#padawan!reader

Cold metal hand, fleeting glares, snide comments. Your bond with Anakin started painfully slow. Maybe it was the grief that lingered in his heart that made him so distant, or maybe it was the anger you could feel rolling off him, the anger at the council he blamed for its wrong doings. You should have seen it sooner, as everyone else should have. But you never see it coming until it hits you right in the face. You’d heard victims of families say they never saw the signs. Didn’t see what the person that did a horrendous act in the future was capable of. Neither do you, or Obi-Wan, Padme or the council. Most of them saw a sad boy lost in emotions that consumed him.

Not you. You saw him. The man who’d been taken from his mother, the one who’d been told was the one to uphold the peace. You saw the way he felt his emotions, the way his hand gripped around the throats of those he loved, possessive, loving but frightened. He was scared. And maybe that’s why he distanced himself from you. He didn’t like the way you looked at him, really looked at him, you shouldn’t off. You were just a kid but still you saw past what most people couldn’t.

Or maybe it was because he’d just lost his padawan. She’d left him. But he didn’t hold any anger against her. He knew why she left, he understood and it’d been her decision. And despite the pain that filled him over it and the way his heart cracked a bit more since his mothers death he didn’t stop her. He didn’t blame her, he just let her go. Maybe there was hope for him yet. Maybe it could have been. Or maybe there never was.

Slowly the metal hand he placed on your shoulder to direct you along towards a meeting turned into his human hand, warm and soft against the fabric of your Jedi robes, gentler. Slowly the glare in his eyes softened into tiny specs of care. Harsh words turned into scoldings of worry. The silence filled with teasing comments, nicknames were made. He’d sit you down and teach you how to repair things. Teach you how to fly… or more so fly as if suicide was on the edge of the ship.

He started to care. He’d spend long nights talking to Padme about it. Nuzzled up to her, hand protectively on her stomach. Padme despite not yet having met you felt as if she had. She’d heard enough to know you reminded her of Ahsoka. To know you reminded Anakin of Ahsoka. She was the one to convince him to give you a chance, maybe with a bit of a side comment from obi-wan too.

You became close. Whether he was like a father, brother or just a very close friend, it didn’t matter what you were, you could trust him and him you. And you knew he cared. He cares so blatantly obvious, he could just as well have written it with blue paint on his forehead.

It was starting to look up, not only for you but for Anakin.

Until you almost died.

You weren’t Ahsoka, you were younger, hadn’t been trained, didn't have her experience, but you’d fought extremely well against dooku for being a freshly new padawan. But it wasn’t enough, or maybe it was, you were still alive after all.

The beeps of the monitors filled the otherwise silent room. Your heart rate normal as Anakin stared at it. He didn’t wanna lose you too, he couldn’t. In ignoring you he’d set you out for a fate worse than death. He hadn’t actually started to train you until about a month ago, you basically knew the basics and not much else, which Dooku himself had once learnt when he’d been on their side.

You weren’t Ahsoka and that was the problem.

Ahsoka had exceeded all expectations, you? You didn’t… yet.

Anakin didn’t feel right when the doctor congratulated him on training his padawan well, Obi-Wan deserved it not him. While he’d distanced himself, his padawan, you, had gone to Obi-Wan, the clones, they’d help you train. Obi-Wan had helped you sift through your emotions, meditate, let go of the pain Anakin caused you. The 501 tended to distract you somehow, whether fives made funny jokes or if they allowed you to paint the piece of armor on your uniform that they insisted you get for protection, blue like theirs. They took you in with open arms cause they themselves knew what it felt like to not be included. Despite them being sad over Ahsoka they greeted you the way Anakin should have done. Rex even went out of line and talked to Anakin about it. Earning his probably first disapproving glare from the Jedi Knight.

Rex had told Cody, who told Obi-Wan who later found you hiding in the barracks behind big crates. He didn’t have to see you to know you were crying. The force bled so strongly of your sadness, like a cloud of smoke was forming around you. He’d held you that day, probably like he should have back then when Anakin was young, but he’d been young too, and despite it all he had done his best with little Anakin. He knew better now. And maybe that hurt Anakin too, how Obi-Wan took better care of you than he had him. It should have been him who hugged you, Obi-Wan would have never found you like that if he’d just let go of the fact that you were not Ahsoka and be okay with that. Obi-Wan had started to train you then, it wasn’t a secret, you’d go to him ask for help and he’d help like Anakin didn’t do.

Anakin was to blame, while Obi-Wan was to praise.

He stared at your resting face. You looked so peaceful as if he didn’t hurt you with his presence. As if your force didn’t bleed every time he was near. As if Dooku hadn’t almost killed you. Anakin knew casualties happened, injuries both physical and mental stuck with you like an irritating thorn in your foot. And it bled out of you like a glowing warning sign in the dark. Despite how you’d both just recently started to form a bond, despite the glares he’d give you having turned into smiles, you were still that kid he’d hurt. He could feel the way your force always shifted around him. Protecting you from him, he didn’t know if you did it on purpose or if the force did it on its own. Either way he woved that day to break it, to make up for the way he’d made cracks in your heart like his very own heart had. And he did if only just for a moment.

Because the thing is, he scared you. After the accident his once warm hand became firmer. He’d hold onto your shoulder as if you were about to disappear. Training became harsher until your knees buckled out and you fell to the ground exhausted. Obi-Wan instead of help for training became a break, a warm comfort from the way Anakin’s force wrapped itself around you, possessive care and protectiveness mixed into a cloud that made headaches form. You felt as if you were drowning around him, and maybe you were. He let the way he failed to protect you consume him until it was the only thing that mattered in his mind. He loved in an obsessive way, possessive but caring nonetheless.

There were good days. Days where Anakin’s force signature didn’t suffocate you. But they were always too short and it never lingered longer than a day. It became rarer and rarer until they were nonexistent. He started to bench you. “You aren’t ready”, “you need more training”, “don’t you remember what happened last time”

It wasn’t unknown to Obi-Wan that he’d find you far more often hyperventilating over Anakin. You were scared and it consumed you from head to toe, and Obi-Wan always tried his best to quench your fears, but there was only so much comfort he could give. He’d noticed it too, he wasn’t dumb, he’d tried to talk to Anakin, but it made no difference.

Anakin’s realization came all too late.

It was one of Anakin’s many downfalls as he tapped into the darkness of the force that lingered in him like a humming angry whisper, that spewed its hateful voice into his ears. Corrupting his heart with poison. As its claws speared ugly holes for the chains of hatred, fear and anger to fester.

You’d scrambled backwards, eyes wide as you collided with something, or rather someone behind you. Still your eyes stayed glued onto Anakin. Fear etched itself into you, like beskar chains hooking into you. His arm was outstretched as his hand slowly closed into a fist, the force choking Dooku, as he clutched at the invisible force on his throat.

“Anakin” you felt a warm hand help you up, the force around the person comforting. Obi-Wan. His eyes stared at Anakin with concern. The force bled with hatred, fear and something closer to possessiveness than anything else, the feelings poured out of Anakin, tugging at your force bond in a cloud of rage. Loud and painful.

“Anakin” both his arms rested on your shoulders keeping you in place while he tried his best to encircle you in the comfort of his own force, it had worked before, at times where you’d let anxiety and worry overtake you when Anakin was in trouble.

However, right now, Anakin wasn’t in trouble, he had full control of the situation and that scared you more than anything. And that was way worse.

“Anakin” His voice hardened, grew louder as Anakin finally turned to him. A flicker of anger filled his eyes that looked almost orange in hue. Red bolts striking to his pupil as his eyes darkened at Obi-Wan. The words that followed Obi-Wan’s lips next going unheard by him. His gaze fell to you. Brows furrowing as he watched you avert your gaze from him. Tugging at your force bond he froze, you were scared. The fear was rooted deep into your force, your barriers shielding you, as you refused to answer Anakin’s tug on the force. His grip on the force that was choking Dooku faltered. You were scared of him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was your master, guardian, he shouldn’t make you scared.

As soon as Dooku fell back to the floor, Anakin reached out to you. He stopped, hesitating. You’d turned, facing away from him. Burying your head into Obi-Wan, who engulfed you in a comforting embrace. His force, trying its best to quell your fears.

The stiffened sounds of your grunts wind up catching his attention. He snaps his line of sight to you, laying in the seat next to him, attempted to have kicked back to try and get some rest. Seems it didn't go very well traveling at high speeds through space in a cramped ship with him and R2, who rests behind you both in a charging port. He can't help but frown, biting at the inside of his cheek.

He'll admit, he doesn't agree with this. Bringing Jedi, Padawans, Younglings, into war, it's not the Jedi way. This further proves his beliefs. These nightmares plaguing you are caused by the gruesome battles you must fight and witness every single day. The kidnapping, the hostages, the bombs, the bodies. Sometimes, it's all he can see, too. The screams and cries overlap in his head, causing his ears to ring.

It seems you can't escape your bad dream, given your frantic squirming and tightened facial expression. He presses a few buttons on the panel in front of him before leaning over to place a hand on your arm to shake you awake. Somehow, you manage to avoid waking up on his first handful of shakes. He grumbles, though it's out of affection, or maybe cuteness aggression? He shakes you again, trying to ignore how... kind of adorable you are when you lunge into him, arms wrapped around his torso, your legs hoisting you up.

You really are the kid he'll end up never being able to raise.

"Y/n?-" he softly mutters, hands floating over your spine, the hug having caught him off guard, "Bad dream?"

You nod, lip quivering.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You take a moment to think, wondering if you actually want to talk about it or not. Even thinking about it is pretty scary. But you decide you want to get your bad dream off your chest in hopes getting it out will allow you to calm down and find yourself asleep once more. Plus, Anakin is nice for a Jedi Master... he'll understand.

"Remember when we got onto one of the ships, with Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka and R2?" you ask, pulling away to allow better comfort for you both. You sit with your hands fidgeting in your lap while he spins his chair around to face you, hands enveloped over his lap. "When we fought Grievous that one time and R3 betrayed us?"

Anakin briefly nods.

"Well, it was the part where me and Ahsoka were fighting him in that storage room when the nightmare started," you explain, "Ahsoka was throwing buckets over his head to temporarily blind him and I was trying to cut his arms off. Well, she missed or something, and I thought she would've landed her throw, so I swung, and he grabbed me."

His brows turn down. He bites the inside of his lip, listening to you recount this clearly horrifying nightmare. With the way your hands fidget and the way you hesitate to speak at some points, he can tell you were very much spooked by this nightmare.

"So, he took me, and he hurt Ahsoka somehow, and then you all tried reuniting to get me back, but he escaped the ship with a pod and took me with him. He held me captive untuk you guys showed up, but when you guys fought him, he was like, crawling on the walls and on the feiling," you shudder, feeling a shiver trail ip your spine, "Like a spider or something."

Anakin bites his tongue. Yeah, he'd be scared of that, too.

"You woke me up when he was like, about to pounce at me, or something."

A visible frown rests on his face. He leans forward, arms open to hug you. You fall into him, sniffling into his shoulder.

"Sorry, Master Skywalker."

He shakes his head, "Don't apologize over a bad dream, young Padawan."

After a brief moment of silence, you poke your head out from his shoulder, "How do you get so strong, Master Skywalker? How do you not get scared?"

He shrugs and shakes his head, "Honestly, I do get scared. But when I do, I remember what I'm fighting for. I'm fighting to keep what scares me away from the innocents, the people I care for. I have nightmares, too, Y/n. Everyone does."

You nervously chew at the inside of your cheek before nodding. He did a great job putting that into perspective for you. With the way he acts and thinks so quickly on the spot, he seemed like a fearless leader to you. You thought you were alone in your fears, possibly too weak to be a Jedi. But he just proved to you that no one will come out of the Clone Wars unscathed.

Obi-wan requested Ashoka but he got her instead. He did take into account that she was very young, even when compared to Anakin’s padawan. It was still considered unconventional to have a 16 year old play soldier, a 10 year old was erroneous. He didn’t want that for her, but he was willing to compromise with the council. He would only allow her to accompany him on diplomatic missions, those with little to no threats involved.

She was serious, poised, and spoke as if she were a wise old woman. It wasn’t natural, and it was clear she had taken after all of the masters and followers at the temple. The teasing from Anakin and Ahsoka never ceased, often calling her his “mini-you”, producing a scowl from his face, causing them to laugh harder, but somehow getting a small smile out of him by the end of the day. 

His own master found her, as a baby.  She was gladly given up by her parents, they thought she would live a better life with the Jedi than with them. A prosperous one, without the struggles of poverty.  He remembered her from when she was barely able to walk, he himself had metaphorically taken his first steps in becoming a master to Anakin. 

He was somewhat delighted to see her more grown up, she was a kind reminder of his master who had passed. Of what he stood for. 

She reminded him of Anakin too. Sometimes. Rounded eyes full of interest, their minds willing to soak up any piece of information available. But, Anakin was too passionate, she was too no doubt, but she was passionate in a quieter way, and he was afraid she would have the same struggle his past student had. The struggles Anakin still has with keeping his relationships out of his duties.

…

“Anakin!” He looked deep into the eyes of the boy he practically raised, teached and loved. They were no longer his own. They were of a frightened child, who couldn’t find their way. This wasn’t Anakin

…

“She’s just like Anakin isn’t she?” Obi-Wan sighed, of course, in exaggeration.  He had a feeling Anakin was influencing her too much lately. His sudden interest in “babysitting” the younglings and his trips to Naboo in his freetime not missed by him. 

There was a certain bond and greater understanding the two had, both being his prodigies. He’d hear her stifled giggles whenever she were invited to sit in meditation along with Obi-Wan, his right eye peeking to find them both snickering about how Master Yoda's ears twitched every so often. The way her eyes widened as Anakin snuck a treat or toy from a distant planet into her sneaky palm hidden by her robe during lessons.  

It was almost as if they were blood related. 

He rubs his chin between his finger and his thumb as he looks onto the courtyard, filled with greenery, trees thick with moss and leaves.  “Quite.”

There was a pause, he watched as his padawan’s foot tapped incessantly against the stone floor, her eyes fluttering between the children playing out in the garden of Bail Organa’s estate in Alderaan. She glances at him, eyes full of questions and a hint of longing.  With a nod she stands on her feet like a spring and approaches them. 

Her timid and reserved demeanor shaves away as they prompt her to move a pebble “with her mind”, their whines rising in pitch as she hesitates. With a lift of her hand, the small stone following with it, they squeal, falling over themselves and pulling her down with them. He purses his lips as they all laugh together, tumbled in the soft grass of the open courtyard. 

“You’ve got your hands full.” 

“Indeed.” 

Bail laughed. Obi-Wan just chuckled in response.  Just that day they were able to evade bounty hunters, of course with the help of Starlight, which Bail so warmly called her.  If it wasn’t for her they most likely would have been dead by now. 

Luckily for her she was able to sense a disturbance before the hunters were able to detonate the bombs in the estate’s meeting room. He had to admit it was impressive the way she stood calm and approached the situation. Her confidence was amusing, especially when her eyes were set in determination. 

Her actions furthered the jest that she was indeed his own daughter. It was starting to not bother him as much as before. 

…

The steam of the lava planet made his skin prickle with heat as he descended the steps of Padme’s ship. A hint of silver flashed on Anakin’s belt, his cloak quickly hiding it again.The hilt was too familiar, so familiar that he didn’t want to think of the implications of it.  He had hope, in his heart, that because he didn’t see her in the remains Anakin left behind, that she might have escaped. 

…

She took her to Mandalore, by mistake. She’s never been that close to a sith before.  He still remembered the threats of Darth Maul. He wanted to do the same to her like he did to him. To leave her feeling as heartbroken as he did when his master died. This time he promised he would take her in as his own student.  

He was close to doing something he might have regretted. He mourns Satine, yes, but she wouldn’t have wanted him to become something he wasn’t. 

It wasn’t often that he would take his padawan on missions after those events. 

…

Anakin tossed the hilt to his feet.  Padme gasped in shock, “Ani, what did you do? Is it true what you did to the padawans?

What an unnecessary question.  They saw the holo recording, they knew he did it, but they also knew it wasn’t the real Anakin. They were looking at an imposter. 

…

Most of her time was spent at the temple, occasionally having visits from masters passing through the temple, looking for a place of calm from the war. She became close friends with the clones, those stationed in Coruscant, and would often find time to converse and learn from their experiences. Most of her visits were of course from her own master. The times called for many lessons spent with her saber and going over battle plans. She cherished all the knowledge she gained from him, and he cherished her insight and naive innocence.

The name Starlight stuck. Especially since Ahsoka, who had a soft spot for nicknames, heard it the first time. He continued calling her his Starlight, using it more as she progressed in her journey to become a Jedi. She reminded him of the days before the war, when he himself was a youngling and looked up to Qui Gon for guidance.  She was like a remnant of what was once of the Jedi Order, and what was of himself. Light untouched, pure and uncorrupted by the dark. Saying she was Starlight was fitting.

…

The smell of Anakin’s burning flesh hasn’t left his mind. The endless repetition of sorrys and pleads devoting space in his mind that what has been done was not true had made him a shell of himself. 

…

“I'm sorry Obi-wan.” Breha Organa spoke to him softly, quietly, as if she herself understood his pain. He just delivered Padme’s child to her. Lately he’s been too busy to think of himself. Breha was one of the only people who knew his little star personally.  She was kind to her, often sitting her down in the common area and bringing her snacks and puzzles as if she were her own. Leia would do well in her care.   

He travelled to Tatooine to deliver the boy. 

Any spot would do. He started digging until it was deep enough for it to not be uncovered by the wind. He buried the saber in the sands of Tatooine for a reason, Anakin hated the sand, hated this planet in general. He wouldn’t find her here.

He was finally alone, the last remnants of the Jedi Order had fallen. He finally has a moment alone and he lets out all of his pain and exhaustion he’s had to deal with since his own master perished. Tears streamed down his face and he couldn’t stop them. Did he even want to?

The suns have set and he was still there, on his knees thinking of what he could have done to have stopped this. He visits the spot every year, often sensing the saber’s crystal somewhere nearby, letting himself let out his frustration, and going through endless possibilities and scenarios in his head. As the years went on he started bringing things he thought she would like, vendors often thinking he was buying gifts for a daughter. Then, as the years rolled by, they would think he was getting a little present for a granddaughter.

He would never forget his padawans and one day their deaths would not have been in vain.

But without a doubt, every single time he visited her sand dune, getting taller and taller, he was sad to see that his Starlight had dimmed even further.

--------------------

I started this series years ago, I want to actually finish it this time, lol. Can be read as a one-shot tbh, I like this. Rest of the series will mostly be Din Djarin x Reader this was more of a background piece.

Starlight Masterlist

This week has been… something. But it was over. Finally. Not that you didn’t enjoy getting to work with the 501st in addition to the 212th. The battalions were not the problem, fighting is just hard work. And fighting means losing something. In this case, many, many brothers. The mission had an appalling casualty rate.

Trudging up the hill to the troop transport, all you could manage was to keep putting one foot in front of the other. It was hard for your eyes to adjust to the light. Somehow, the men around you still laughed and joked with each other, despite the losses. One of them handed you a bottle of water, which you took without hesitation. You curled into a seat in the corner, and Rex sat beside you, still engaged in conversing with his brothers. You pulled your legs up onto the seat near you, and started to address a fairly deep cut on your calf.

First step was to clean it. A damp cloth for the mud and some alcohol for disinfectant did the trick. Then you had to make sure that the bacta patch was actually on the right way. At first you applied it healing-side-up. 

“Got it?” Rex asked, having been watching you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, flipping the patch over. “Just tired.”

The little blue dots finally lit up, indicating the bandage was secure and functional.

“See?” you yawned. “All good…”

As the transport shuddered to life and prepared to lift off, your eyes drifted closed. Your head rested on your knees, which were held up by your arms wrapped around them. Slowly, as the transport moved, and rocked back and forth, you leaned to the side. Your head came to rest on Rex’s shoulder.

He didn’t notice at first. He was very used to one of his brothers, or Ahsoka, or heck sometimes even Anakin taking a quick nap on his arm. The odd thing is that you hadn’t known him for a long time. Through the grapevine of clone gossip, Cody had told Rex that you had trouble with sleep. 

He’d seen it firsthand on this mission. On the first night you didn’t sleep, instead opting to stand watch. In the morning, the droids had launched a large attack, forcing you all to split up and retreat into the tunnels haphazardly. That night, no one got to sleep. You had to keep moving, or else the CIS would catch you.

A day later, your group finally met up with another group, meaning you had enough people to stand watch and let others sleep. It helped that the tunnel narrowed, meaning it was easier to fortify.  A small circle of sleeping bags was set up. About a third of the group could rest at once. It was decided through “random” selection. Rex, having noticed that you hadn’t slept in days, made sure that you were in that third.

You tried to sleep, only to toss and turn, never truly getting an hour of uninterrupted rest. You ended up giving your spot to a trooper having trouble keeping his eyes open.

The rest of the mission, there was simply no time to sleep, for anyone. Mud and exhaustion and violence were not good substitutes for rest. 

Really, it was surprising that more people on this transport weren’t passed out.

Some 212th boys noticed you were asleep, they hushed the whole rest of the group. It was pristinely quiet and peaceful. 

The soldiers from the 212th didn’t let Rex move an inch, even when the transport landed in the larger ship and others began to disembark. Finally, Cody got there to replace him. The process was so well-rehearsed on Cody’s part that you didn’t as much as stir. He carried you to your room, managing to press the ‘open’ button with his elbow without bonking your head against the doorframe. 

He set you down on your little alcove bed, took your saber from your belt– to avoid any accidental midnight amputations– and set it in its drawer. Third from the left. There was no avoiding mud on your sheets, but he could at least remove your boots, which were covered with it. He set them next to your door, right where you liked them. He’d done this before. Job done, he turned to leave.

“Stay,” he heard as the door slid open.

“General?” He questioned.

“Please, I can’t be alone,” you half pushed yourself up on one arm, rubbing your eyes with the other. “The… this mission was too much; I saw too many of our friends die. I don’t think I could handle it without someone else. Without a brother.”

Cody closed the door once more. Sure, there were a lot of post-action documents that needed reviewing, but no vod should have to suffer alone. He took your hand and lowered himself to the ground next to the head of your bed, leaning his back against it. He was prepared to sit there the rest of the night. 

When you woke from bad dreams, he squeezed your hand to remind you he was there. Soon you’d drift off again. He sat, thinking. How young were you when this war began? A young teen at best. War was not something you should have been through. Not now. Not ever. Cody’s resolve strengthened. You would not get hurt on his watch.

Hours later perhaps, the door opened once again.

“There you a-,” Obi Wan says to Cody, only to be shushed. The general settled himself next to Cody as the door shut behind him, plunging the room back into darkness. 

“You know,” the Jedi whispered. “You need sleep, too.”

Cody simply nodded in the darkness.

In the morning you found the two of them leaning on each other. Both sacrificing a comfortable night to ensure you felt safe. 

Edit: taglist (b/c I forgor 💀)

Ghon sat still in the co-pilot’s chair, no longer bouncing with excited energy the way he had only a few months ago. It wouldn’t be long until Ghon was given his own ship to pilot, and it wouldn’t be much longer after that where he would likely receive a mission of his own. The thought made me feel ill. 

“What have you got for me?” I muttered as I cued up the recorded hologram of Master Windu’s face and pressed play.

Only Master Windu’s lips moved, the rest of his face a good representative of the gravity of the message. “Knight Y/L/N. Padawan Laster. Queen Breha has requested aid on Alderaan for the Honoghr refugees. We’ve informed her to expect your arrival.” 

The hologram ended, and in the silence of the ship, I could feel Ghon’s fatigue without even looking at his slumped shoulders. I knew he’d been hoping to go back to the Temple for some respite neither of us had truly gotten since Vokara Che cleared me. 

I looked over at Ghon. “You should get some sleep. It’ll take at least 12 hours to get there.”

Ghon gave a nod and got to his feet, brushing out of the cockpit. I glanced over my shoulder, watching him go instead of immediately setting a course for Alderaan. It seemed with every inch of height he gained, he gained a pound of solemnity. He spoke less often, moved with more intention and confidence. As a result, his swordplay had improved by leaps and bounds; he had surpassed any combat challenge I could provide. 

As much pride as I felt in his growth and his accomplishments, I missed the boy he’d once been. Would I ever get to see his expression so taken over by excitement or even worry again? Or had the war sucked any wonder and fear out of him?

And would it all end before it had sucked everything out of him? 

I settled into the pilot’s chair, staring blankly out the cockpit window. It hadn’t escaped my notice that the Jedi Council sent me on more and more missions lacking combat. Whether that was due to Obi-Wan’s protective influence or simply the events on Neftali, it felt strange to be fighting in a war without actually…fighting. 

Laying my head back on the headrest, I tried to meditate.

Then my blinks grew longer and longer until my eyes hurt whether they were open or closed

So I just let them close, hoping the pain would go away.

And it did. 

-

I blinked blearily around at the cockpit, noting that nothing was different. I was alone, our ship hurtled through hyperspace, and no alarms were going off.

Why had I awoken? If I was still so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open, what had disturbed my rest?

Then it rippled through me, and I knew. 

Him.

Obi-Wan’s light. 

Faint, but not imagined. 

I instantly felt more alert, my posture straightening as I stared out of the cockpit window as if I could actually lay eyes on him. How long had I been asleep? Were we close to Alderaan? Was he on Alderaan? Focusing forward now, stretching beyond hyperspace, I searched for him with an intensity that stopped up my breath. 

And in the answer, a strangled sound somewhere between a sigh and a gasp left my lips. He was there. I was drawing nearer and nearer to him with every second, closer than I’d been to him in months, but not close enough yet. 

I wanted him. I wanted to hear his voice with my ears and my mind. I wanted to touch him, to hold him. To see how long his hair was now and reassure myself of how intact his body was. To know what he'd been doing for these months and to share stories of the pirates on Rodia or how I’d almost gotten caught with his most recent message the last time I went to the Archives.

Tears pricked my eyes, and I held a trembling hand over my mouth. 

I’d never felt this before. This…relief…mixed with such…satisfying pain. Only by feeling him could I know how much I missed him. And I missed him almost as deeply as I cared for him. 

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply and connecting to the Force. The feelings—the pain, the relief—increased tenfold. 

Unmistakably Obi-Wan. 

“You’re excited.”

I almost screamed as Ghon sat in the co-pilot’s chair. I’d been so focused on Obi-Wan that I hadn’t noticed my padawan. 

A denial prepared itself behind my teeth, and I clenched them. The specter of Krell’s teachings haunted my instincts, resurfacing in times of trouble. But he wasn’t here, and I didn’t want to be anything like him, and I didn’t want Ghon to be anything like him either. 

Letting out a breath, I nodded. “Yes.”

“About seeing Master Kenobi.”

“Yes.”

Ghon didn’t say anything more, but his tangible confusion hung in the air. 

“Someday,” I stared at the streaks of the stars whipping past our ship, “I won’t be your master anymore.”

“Yes,” he replied, his confusion not dissipating. 

My heart gave a twist. At this moment, I now understood what Obi-Wan felt on Taris when I hadn’t understood his reluctance about my trials. I couldn’t remember what he’d said to make me understand, and I didn’t have words now. I wanted to lean into Obi-Wan’s light, but it was harder to feel now when I wasn’t focusing so hard.

“You’re sad now,” Ghon said quietly. “Why are you sad?”

“We live at the wisdom of the Council,” I replied with great difficulty. The words were reluctant to come out. “They see the greater picture, and they direct us to where we are most needed. Which means we don’t get to choose.”

Ghon didn’t reply, but I could feel his mind churning as he tried to process what I was saying.

“It’s not easy to spend every day with someone…and then not be with them and only see them once every few months. To not know how they’re doing most days or if they’re even still alive.” I cast my eyes down at my hands. “I miss my old master, just as I will miss you when you pass your trials and become a Jedi Knight.”

A flare of self-doubt replaced the confusion, and I reached out to gently rest my hand on his shoulder. “And I hope that the war ends before that happens, just so I won’t have to worry about you quite so much.”

Ghon’s mouth gave a slight twist halfway to a smile, but his eyes seemed far away. I didn’t say anything more, allowing him his thoughts. Instead, I focused back on Obi-Wan, expecting his Force signature to course through my body once more. 

But it wasn’t as strong as it was before. 

I stretched myself forward again, waiting to feel the light hit me…but no such sensation came. 

Fear stabbed through my heart. Was Obi-Wan…dead? 

No, I immediately thought to myself. I could still feel him, it was just fainter, and there was no pain in his light. 

Then, with a sickening feeling in my stomach, I stretched myself backwards instead, back the way our ship had come, and there it was. The light. 

Our ship had passed right by, the distance between us growing once more. 

No.

All my hopes crumbled, my heart aching as I nearly drowned in the knowledge that Obi-Wan wasn’t on Alderaan and I wouldn’t be seeing him. 

I let out a long breath, slumping back in the pilot’s chair. I half-expected to start crying, but my exhaustion returned in full strength as the galaxy continued to darken. I didn’t have enough energy to cry, even if the brutal shredding of my hopes left me feeling as though I were bleeding out. 

“You should get some sleep,” Ghon said, so tentatively, I knew he sensed the sudden return of my weariness. “I’ll wake you before we get there.”

I nodded and managed to stand on my shaky legs long enough to get out of the cockpit and to the little cot Ghon’d slept on not long before. Crawling onto it, I stared up at the ceiling, unable to decide if I hoped Obi-Wan had felt me for a fleeting moment too or he’d been spared the same crushing disappointment I now fought.

-

Part 9

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@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

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“Grizzer!” Hound jumped up and followed, assuming his massif was up to no good.  He sighed a little when he saw you, feeling relieved.

“Oh good,” Hound said.  “It’s you. Don’t need to get kicked out of here over an upset stranger.”

You gave Grizzer some good scritches and the massiff snuggled up to you, seemingly looking at your sketch. 

“What’s that,” Hound asked.

“Oh, I umm,” you got a little shy, but he had already seen, so you let him have a better look.

“Hey boys,” he waved to the others. “Get over here. Look at this.”

Thorn, Thire, and Fox all came over and looked at your work.

“You managed to capture each of us,” Thorn said quietly.

“We look like brothers but individuals,” Thire added.

“You made me look less tired,” Fox joked and Thorn bumped his arm with a smirk.

“Look at Grizzer,” Hound said. “Look at that perfect face.  Such a wonderful likeness.”

“Can we have a copy,” Thire asked.

You hadn’t even considered it.  It was just a sketch and unbeknownst to them, you sketch them and their brothers quite a lot.

“Sure,” you said, smiling.

“Do you have any others,” Fox asked.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted.