Plucking at his sleeve as he sat down on his squashed couch, Obi-Wan
uncertainly glanced around at the other masters with a bit of
confusion.

Now,
it wasn’t unusual that he got visitors these days.

Since
his and Anakin’s torture and then return, Obi-Wan had been getting
friendly visits from people checking in on him once he was ready for
visitors and they had time. But this didn’t feel like a friendly
visit and more like a matter of concern.

Especially
with the way Mace face was carefully blank but he kept tapping at his
knee with his index finger, a nervous tick and Depa kept switching
between uncertainly smiling or staring into the cup of tea Obi-Wan
had made.

But
more than that, it was Plo that told Obi-Wan that something was up.

The
way the kel dor had sat down beside him on the couch, the careful way
his hands were resting in his lap and the way his eyes were focused
on Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan
knew his fellow council members enough to read their body language,
or lack of it in Plo’s case and he could read many things from all
three of them.

Things
that screamed of discomfort and unease.

Plo
was Anakin’s confidant, the person he went to speak to and was
getting help from to try and ease his own Fallen state.

If Plo
was here, carefully blank and put together, that meant that it was
something Obi-Wan needed to know and a sinking stone in Obi-Wan’s
stomach told him he wouldn’t like the information.

And it
would relate to Anakin.

“I
would offer you something if I could Plo but I haven’t restocked
the tea you usually drink.” He tried for a lighter tone, picking up
his own cup while focusing on the man.

Plo
raised one of his hands, his mask quirking around the mouth, proving
he was smiling. “That is alright Obi-Wan, while tea would have been
nice, dorel tea is rare and hard to get if you are not a Kel Dor.”
He murmured calmly.

‘Very
hard, he’s right in that.’ Obi-Wan sipped at his red tea. Dorel
tea was sold only by Kel Dor vendors since they could only be grown
on the homeworld of the Kel Dor’s, due to the dorin gas richness of
it. That also meant that if you were not a Kel Dor yourself, you got
an additional tax as it was originally only reserved for Kel Dors.

Made
sense, it was the preferred tea for them after all.

Not
that they couldn’t drink other teas but still.

“And
I’m sorry to say that this is not a social visit.” Plo continued,
confirming Obi-Wan’s dread that this was not just a friendly thing.

Shifting
forward, Obi-Wan placed his tea on the glass table before focusing
fully on Plo instead of the two other master’s sitting on the
squishy leather recliners. “I suspected but… what is going on
Plo?” Obi-Wan questioned quietly, lacing his hands on his lap and
ignoring the way Depa had clearly seen the compression sleeve he wore
on his right arm.

It had
been Anakin’s suggestion, having noticed how uneasy Obi-Wan was at
times and kept picking at his sleeve over the letter scars.

While
he had a cream to reduce the scars, that would take time and so
Anakin had bought a wrist to elbow compression sleeve in black,
stitching a blue Jedi symbol onto it on his own. It was wonky but…
the intent behind it had touched Obi-Wan, given him relief, a
barrier.

It
helped his confidence.

Plo
let out a deep breath, bringing Obi-Wan’s mind away from the
sleeve. “You are aware that Anakin has handed me his comm and
lightsaber, you were there after all, since he was going to isolate
himself for meditation and did not want distractions.” Plo stated
calmly.

Slowly
nodding, Obi-Wan felt a brow raise in curiosity only for his stomach
to turn to ice at Plo’s next words.

“In
the last five days the Chancellor has called no less than eighty
times and sent over five hundred messages since I came in possession
of Anakin’s comm,” The kel dor master leveled a long stare at the
human on the couch with him. “Obi-Wan, this is a worrying pattern
and I need to ask you if you know how long this communication has
been going on?”

Frozen,
Obi-Wan opened his mouth only for nothing to come out, eyes wide and
his entire being feeling nauseous.

Behind
his ear, the black wing he shared with Anakin burned with the racing
pulse of his heart.