finally got back into digital art with this messy brain dead sketch. I hope you enjoy it I didn’t crouch in the floor like a gremlin at 2 am drawing this for nothing. Fr though I was half asleep so forgive the messy sketches. I really do wanna get back into digital art more often so here we are.
I don’t know if anyone needs to hear this but “we all respond to trauma in different ways, not just pretty palatable ways” and “we are accountable for our own actions, even actions born from trauma” are not contradictory statements
I don’t know why, but I suddenly have this image of Padme coming home to her apartment, pulling of her robe/coat and moving into her apartment only for a voice to suddenly echo out. “Tell me you didn’t.”
Padme reaches for her blaster, only for it ot be yanked out of her hands and a lamp by the couch turns on, revealing a tired and dishevled looking Obi-Wan. “Tell me you didn’t marry my padawan while he was still a padawan, Senator Amidala. Tell me you didn’t marry what was technically underage sentient due to the laws of the Order? Someone who was beholden to you as you are a senator of the Republic, tell me you didn’t, Padme Amidala.”
My brain trying to make the entire situation worse despite Anakin being nineteen lol.
Okay, so, technically speaking, Anakin Skywalker is an adult when the clone wars kicks of, as he is nineteen. However, he is also a padawan, and we can compare that to being an apprentice for something simliar honestly.
In an apprenticeship, the apprentice was often beholden to their teacher/master and couldn’t just nilly willy do things. Making them in essecense a ‘minor’ as the teacher often had to add their signature to offical documents in a lot of places.
Add on the fact that Padme and Anakin married under fake names, their marriage does fall apart honestly, at least by Naboo’s standards as they apparently require signatures and witnesses from what we see of their ‘wedding’.
As some also pointed out, Anakin was beholden to Padme as her bodyguard, putting her in another position of power above him and there is a four, almost five, year age gap between the two, which at that age can actually be a pretty big deal.
At 16-19, humans are developing pretty much still and its why age gaps in relationship then can be difficult as the younger party often haven’t settled in their ways.
Not to mention that Anakin himself is pretty immature in a lot of ways, until he becomes Vader even. So yeah, bad mojo.
Then there is the issue of a Senator of the Republic marrying a Jedi, considering all the Shit slinging PR Palpatine has done, I feel like that could really blow up not only in the Jedi face but also Naboo.
But yeah, I feel like that while Obi-Wan and the order was aware of the relationship (I mean, sex is totally allowed and it seems like relationships is also alright as long as you can separate yourself, seeing Ka-Adi’s 7 wives and also all his kids), I don’t think they were aware of the marriage.
And I feel like they’d have a lot to say about it.
Especially Obi-Wan, as his mentor and brother, who felt like he was to protect Anakin.
Stepping into camp, Obi-Wan watched the faint dot of Slave 1 making its way into the atmosphere, calmly stroking Cotton’s head as he pursed his lips thoughtfully, the breeze ruffling his hair and the trees around the camp creaking almost ominously.
Talking with Jango had been… interesting.
Draining if Obi-Wan was honest, but hopefully his play at the galaxy’s fate would work.
The seeds were now sown and all Obi-Wan would have to do was to wait. Jango Fett was the child of farmers and the child of a Mand’alor, vengeance and rage had been sown into him by the Kyr’stad with the help of the Jedi, his farmer parents had nurtured his kindness that had almost died and Jaster Mereel had nurtured his honor and his battle prowess.
Life had tempered everything else.
All Obi-Wan would have to do now was wait for that mix to come to a conclusion now that he had watered those withered galek sprouts that would become mighty trees.
‘…Ugh, when did I become poetic?’ Obi-Wan grimaced a tad and continued moving into camp, waving as a few troopers stopped to greet him. They had obviously noticed him leaving but respected him enough to not follow him.
It was something he was grateful for if he was actually honest once in a while, having worked with too many assholes and imbeciles throughout his years.
Not all Jedi understood it when the need for secrecy was great and he certainly had no trust in Jinn or Skywalker to be secretive. Hell, if Jango Fett had been known to them, Jinn at least would flap his mouth at the rest of the council while Skywalker…
‘Its like having a damn mole in the temple, always opening his mouth to the Chancellor, as if he is required to know the internal workings of our temple.’ Obi-Wan’s lips twisted with disgust, glancing to where Skywalker and Tano were now laying in the grass, the older laughing at his padawan.
Obi-Wan froze a tad, watching as he gently patted Tano on the head, the girl grinning brightly back at him while flapping her hands playfully.
‘…Did I ever smile like that at Jinn?’ The redhead couldn’t help but wonder as Cotton chittered softly at him, rubbing her cheek to his, recognizing her human’s mood even as his face remain impassive.
He couldn’t remember being that free and happy looking around Jinn, not really.
There was always something holding him back, even as he played jokes and laughed at his master.
Always this aura of never being enough.
No, he didn’t think he had ever been that comfortable with Jinn, not like how Tano was with her master clearly. It almost made him envious.
Almost.
Turning on his heel, Obi-Wan made his way to the mess tent instead of towards his own tent.
He needed something to do and the troopers in the kitchen were always happy for a pair of extra hands, it would serve as moving meditation. And the aura of the troopers around him always served to relax Obi-Wan.
He knew that Dogma and Zuru would be informed of where he was, so no need to tell them.
They would show up, likely with a cup of tea for him and their own hands to help the kitchen. ‘And some wonder why I like the vode so much… hardworking, loyal and warm in the Force, how can I be anything but happy to see them in return, when you always know what they want from you… and won’t abuse your trust.’
Pushing the tent flap out of the way, Obi-Wan let a small smile cross his lips as Wooley from 212th called out to him in greeting, the 212th apparently on kitchen duty for the day. ‘How can I do anything but trust these men, who deserve freedom.’ He lifted his own hand in greeting and padded between rows of tables and benches, heading into the kitchen to help.
The instant the soft conversation washed over him as he accepted a knife to start peeling vegetables and cutting them, Obi-Wan felt his shoulders lower as he started relaxing. There was nowhere he would like to be than right here, surrounded by vode.
‘After the war… maybe I could go with them, wherever they go?’ Obi-Wan mused as he got to work on a rutabega, smiling as he heard Zuru and Dogma scuttle in and get delegated to their own stations around him. ‘I’d like that…’
“So you basically want them to rail you against a flat surface, that’s what you’re actually saying.” Quinlan drawled, leaning away with a snigger as a bright red Obi-Wan reached out to try and cover his mouth.
“Shhhh! Not so loud you jerk.” He hissed, looking around the diner wildly.
Thankfully, no one seemed to be paying them any attention with the chatter of people and the sound of dishware being used. It also helped that both Obi-Wan and Quinlan were dressed as ordinary spacers instead of anything potentially interesting. Spacers in this diner were a dime a dozen it looked like as they floated in and out before disappearing back out with their ship into the stars.
Honestly, it was Obi-Wan’s luck that Quinlan needed a layover before he returned to the temple, the two being able to meet up and head into town.
It was some much needed privacy Obi-Wan needed to air what had been going on between him and the troopers and his desperate need for information, something Quinlan could get him since he was going back to the temple.
Obi-Wan on the other hand was not, he was likely stuck out in the mid-rims for at least another two months and he would go crazy if he didn’t have any information before that. Just anything to make sense of his situation.
Obi-Wan had attractions before, hell, he had been attracted to Satine Kryze for one, a few of his classmates and even some random people throughout his missions with his master.
But never like this, not like how he felt physically and almost spiritually drawn to his troopers and they in turn seemed drawn to him equally hungry.
There was something going on and Obi-Wan didn’t know what and that troubled him enough to effect his stress levels even more than what the war simply was doing.
Picking up a few root fries from his plate and dipping them in his shakes, Quinlan face went serious. “Though, I already got a few guesses to why things are going as they are.” He admitted, chewing on his foot.
Pulling his own milkshake closer, Obi-Wan raised his brows at that. “You do?” He questioned a tad doubtfully.
“Look, I’m not saying I know,” Quinlan waved the greasy fries at him before sighing deeply. “But you’re my friend, you have been since we were Initiates and I paid attention when there came any rumors regarding you.” He stated seriously.
Pausing, Obi-Wan set his milkshake down. “Rumors… about me?” He questioned, eyes narrowed in concern.
Glancing around the diner, Quinaln pursed his lips then leaned in, the windows glare glittering on his brown skin. “Look, be very careful about who you tell that you’re from Stewjon, okay?” He whispered. “The rumors might be true and if they are, then being from Stewjon makes you a target for full blooded mandalorians. I heard that there’s a rise of Death Watch in their sector and if they find you…” He grimaced.
Frowning heavily, Obi-Wan blinked. “…You think that’s why I react to them? Because they’re of Jango Fett’s blood?” He whispered.
Quinlan nodded slowly before sitting back, huffing slightly. “Look, I’ll look into it when I get back home, but based on the rumors I heard, apparently it was common for mandalorians to go to Stewjon and hunt themselves a ‘prize’.” He made quotation marks with his fingers at the mention of prize, giving Obi-Wan a meaningful look.
It sent a chill down Obi-Wan’s back, the phrasing not lost on him. “…Why?” He couldn’t help but whisper, feeling tense and uncomfortable.
Swirling his straw in the half drunk milkshake, Quinlan let out a deep breath then shrugged. “Look, I’m not sure this is true, I’ll do the research when I get home but… supposedly it had to do with fertility and the fact that Stewjon had equal warrior spirits to those from Mandalore. But I’m not certain,” Quinlan reminded him. “I’ll figure it out when I get home, alright, send you a message. In the meantime, you need to be careful Obi-Wan.” The shadow operative stated seriously.
Frowning, Obi-Wan nodded, looking down at his half eaten plate of fries and burger, he really didn’t feel all that hungry anymore and the idea that the only reason Cody and the others were looking at him like that was because of genetic was… discouraging.
‘No, no, I’m a Jedi, I can’t… damn it,’ Obi-Wan bit his lip brutally, bowing his head under Quinlan’s watchful eyes as he fought against tears. ‘Damn it all to Sithhells.’
SWpromptsandask 