robinasnyder

For safetydelayed. It seems like Obi-wan is really on the road of healing. Or like maybe the story was starting to wrap up. Is there a way to get a conclusion or a continuation? Maybe Qui-Gon feeling super proud and Obi-wan feeling proud of himself and really assured of something he accomplished? Especially a jedi thing?

Posted on av swmoddy

Packing
up his bag, Obi-Wan paused to stare into it, taking note of his spare
tunic, leggings, underwear, toiletries, his
medication
and
his carving blade
along with his password
protected mission
pad and his own
none essential but something to speed up time in transit and so on
pad.

Then
he slowly looked around his room, taking in the ship mobile Qui-Gon
had gifted him with, the  little ship lighting up as they swung
slowly around and his messy desk full of homework that was half
finished.

Nothing
he needed to hurry on, all of it was things he had ample time to
finish.

Because
he was leaving the Jedi temple.

Excitement
and nervousness trampled through him at that thought and he looked
back down at his bag before reaching over to his pillow and pulling
over the little soft lothcat Qui-Gon had give him not that long ago.

It
wasn’t bigger than a fist, made of gray striped fur with white paws
and amber eyes but… it was soft.

It
was so soft and hugging it made Obi-Wan feel better when he was upset
and Qui-Gon wasn’t there to help him in the moment because maybe he
was with the council or he was with someone else.

Qui-Gon
couldn’t be there all
the time.

So
he had gotten him someone who could, Buddy, his little plushie tooka.

Hugging
it, Obi-Wan took a deep breath and smiled as the toy still smelled of
Qui-Gon before carefully tucking it into his bag too.

For
the first time since Olliander Shkma was taken in over a year and a
half ago, Obi-Wan was going to go on a mission with his master, with
Qui-Gon out into the stars and he was nervous but also excited and
uncertain and just…

So
many emotions.

Valentine
said that was okay, to feel all these things but he had to work on
not letting them consume him.

Feeling
was healthy, expressing emotion was healthy but it was less healthy
to let them eat him up and make him stop moving forward or let them
freeze him in his tracks at important moments. Bottling them up was
also unhealthy.

Obi-Wan
would like to say he’s come a long way, being able to talk with
Valentine and Qui-Gon about all the things that happened to him,
finding outlets for his emotions like drawing and Qui-Gon had also
gotten him into wood carving of all things.

The
first feeble attempt Obi-Wan had done of a tooka had ended up looking
more like a deformed
malastrian
bear and
yet Qui-Gon had looked so proud of it and had it displayed on the
main shelf in the living room, proudly showing it off to any master
or knight that came to their quarters.

It
was embarrassing… but also nice.

“Are
you ready Obi-Wan?”

‘Talk
about the sun and he appears.’ Obi-Wan thought in amusement before
turning and smiling at the proud looking master standing in the
doorway with his bag slung over one shoulder and a warm smile on his
weathered face and his eyes wrinkled up with his smile.

So
many surgeries, so much treatment, so many mistakes and mishaps and
therapy hours and finally
Obi-Wan could see the light at the end of the tunnel, that he could
finally be a Jedi. Could see the wounds Shkma left finally heal and
scar over.

Still
painful, still there and stiff but finally, finally
healing enough for him to move forward.

Nodding,
Obi-Wan picked up his bag and slung it over his back, ignoring how
that prickled at some of his deeper scars. “I’m ready Master.”
Obi-Wan moved out of his room to stand beside the other.

Smile
growing, Qui-Gon gently brushed the back of his knuckles over
Obi-Wan’s slightly scruffy cheek. “You’ve come so far Obi-Wan,”
He whispered in a softly fond tone that had Obi-Wan flushing even as
he smiled up at the tall man. “Come along my boy, lets us see what
our mission brings.” Qui-Gon settled his arm around Obi-Wan’s
shoulder, both of them heading for the door to put on their boots and
greet their life as a proper Jedi master and apprentice pair.

I really missed Knight Moddy and Snow. Can we get something with them? Either like a mission or like something mild and fun?

Posted on av swmoddy

Grumbling
faintly, the short haired woman twitched before hissing slightly in
pain. “I’m going to hit you if you-ow!” The Jedi yelled out
while
twitching away from the man behind her,
causing several to drop their blasters in surprise as they turned
towards their General and Commander. “When
I asked for help, that wasn’t permission for you to torture me!”
She huffed, the crate under her wobbling a bit.

Snow
grunted in reply, a
tunic resting over his lap as
he sat on his own crate in lieu of a chair.
“This is your own damn fault General, you’re the one who went
jumping into a cactus field.” The man replied, nonplussed and very
unimpressed as he dropped another needle into the tray beside him,
the tweezers held tightly in his ungloved
hand.

Moddy
sulked a bit, before nodding and leaning forward again, elbows on her
knees as she sat in leggings and purple bra in front of all her men with
very little care. Anyone else and she might have cared that they
could see her but in this moment she was to busy being picked apart
by her commander as he removed cactus needles from her back and
chest, looking very much like a needle pillow instead of a Jedi.

Her
pale skin did show off the pinpricks of blood quite well honestly.

She
whined about five minutes later when Snow finally set the tweezers
down and ran his bare
fingertips along her skin. “Snoooow.” Moddy whimpered quietly,
shivering a bit with goosebumps breaking out over her pale skin.

“Shush,
I’m looking for needles and then I need to disinfect the punctures.
You can get cuddles after.” The man replied sternly though
his lips twitched with fond
amusement.

Around
them the other troopers had finally started to relax, the 28th
all to used to their commander and their general’s form of
communication and flirting as it was.

“You’re
cruel.” Moddy sulked before relaxing when he didn’t seem to find
any other needles stuck beneath her skin and to be fair, she knew it
was the best idea to remove them else they’d become infected and
that was the last thing she wanted.

Finally
Snow nodded to himself with a satisfied grunt, picking up the cotton
swabs and pouring disinfection onto it. “Next time you do this,
I’ll just leave you to Browbeat if you think I’m that cruel.”
He teased gently, snorting softly when she whined at him.

“Wicked
maaaaa-ow! That hurt!” She gasped, trying not to move though
twitching a bit at the touch of antiseptic against her punctured
skin. It
was cold blast it!

“That’s
because you managed to get the cacti needles into your skin,
puncturing it to the point of bleeding,” Snow paused enough to give
her a fairly light headslap before continuing slowly swabbing down
her back and sides since they already did her front. “And that
should be it, I cleaned away the blood too so you can put on your
tunic if you want.”

Instantly
Moddy snatched her tunic back from him and pulled it on with a grateful whine
before tucking her hands inside and pulling her bra out after a
moment.

No
one even gave her a second look as Snow continued putting away the
antiseptic and the cotton swab to dispose off afterward along with
the cacti needles with bloody tips. “Huh, these went fairly deep, I
wonder if they could be made into makeshift weapons in the future if
needed.” Snow mused before grunting when his lap was filled with a
blond haired Jedi who was making both her eyes look as big as
possible, the scar making it harder on her unseeing side, while pressing her cheek to his shoulder.

Under
them the crate wobbled a bit but managed to hold both of their weight
without tipping over.

Staring
match was engaged, the two barely blinking until Snow finally rolled
his eyes and started to gently run his still uncovered fingertips
along her back while wrapping his other arm around her waist.
“Cuddlebug, I swear, are you a Jedi or tooka?” He teased gently
as she relaxed into him.

She
mock meowed. “If I say I’m a lap tooka, can I stay?” Moddy
teased back before relaxing utterly with a content sigh, closing her
eyes.

“Well,
guess you’re my lap tooka then.” Snow snorted, pressing a fond
kiss to her temple.

For the munchkin kitty one. I’m reminded of the old bestrix potter roly poly pudding. I’d love for padawan obi to be kidnapped, wrapped in dough and just so grumpy about all of it.

Posted on av swmoddy

Huffing
out a deep breath through his snout as his tail flickered irritably
and he felt a the vague sense of needing to throw up, Obi-Wan
wondered if this was really how his life was going to end?

By
him being jumped on by rats during his investigation, abducted,
brought to a closed
for the night
bakery of all things and then wrapped in dough with the rats crowing
about delicious meat wrap.

Oh
this was really not funny.

It
might seem funny to someone outside of the situation to find a dough
wrapped and grouchy cat but to Obi-Wan it was so not funny, it was
honestly depressing as he was a Jedi cat!

And
at this point, Obi-Wan was really in a bind, all wrapped up inside
the dough except for his head and tail as he glared at the lead rat,
a fat, gray thing who walked on two instead of all four and was
directing all the others.

Really
at this point they were discussing if they should chop Obi-Wan’s
head and tail off or not with some saying the fur would shield the
meat from being charred and others complaining. Obi-Wan’s sharp
teeth itched with the urge to sink into their neck and make their
comments stop because he was not a kitten!

Honestly.

Grumbling
and contemplating peeing inside the wrap to delay it or at least make
things uncomfortable for them as not even rats would enjoy urine
coated dough and meat, Obi-Wan jerked to a bit in surprise when the
door slammed open, Master Plo standing there with his saber in his
hand and a hissing Qui-Gon on his shoulder.

‘And
now I’m being rescued from rats, oh great, Master
Qui-Gon
is never going to let me live it down.’ The
padawan thought in despair as the large feline bounced off the kel
dor shoulder only to pounce one of the largest, squealing rats as the
rest ran for it as fast as they could though Plo swiping hand sent
quite a few of them flying even as the man hurried to Obi-Wan side
and knelt down, letting Qui-Gon enact his gruesome predatory behavior
when he sunk his teeth into the back of the neck of the rodent.

“Obi-Wan,
thank the Force, we were worried when you did not return.” Plo
rumbled, tucking his saber to his belt and carefully using his claws
to open up the dough to let Obi-Wan out of his prison only to pause
when he saw that inside the dough, Obi-Wan was also wrapped in
several long string lengths which was hogtying the poor kit.

He
pulled a small viroblade, a fruit knife really Obi-Wan thought, and
carefully cut the string.

Instantly
Obi-Wan rolled away from the rest of the dough shaking first his paws and then he shook his sticky,
clingy fur twice before grumpily starting to groom his paws,
desperately trying to get some of the sticky dough and butter out of
his fur.

He
had made a little leeway when Qui-Gon abandoned the dead rat and made
his way over to him instead, gently nose bumping before starting to
groom Obi-Wan without a word, rumbling faintly as Plo looked about
the bakery.

Now
that the danger was gone though…

Obi-Wan
could feel the other two’s amusement and he hissed unhappily to
himself even as he submitted to the grooming since he was dirty
and needed to get all the stickiness out of his fur and he would like
to avoid a bath if possible.

Water
was nice but a cleaning bath was always on his list of least favorite
things.

“… You
got abducted by rats who were going to eat you.” Qui-Gon chortled,
pausing in grooming his munchkin and Plo barely managed to cover his
laugh with a cough as Obi-Wan sulked at both.

“…I’m
going to leave unpleasantness in your boots and litter box
respectively.” He grumbled out and that just had both adults
laughing at him.

For the munchkin kitty one. I’m reminded of the old bestrix potter roly poly pudding. I’d love for padawan obi to be kidnapped, wrapped in dough and just so grumpy about all of it.

Posted on av swmoddy

Huffing
out a deep breath through his snout as his tail flickered irritably
and he felt a the vague sense of needing to throw up, Obi-Wan
wondered if this was really how his life was going to end?

By
him being jumped on by rats during his investigation, abducted,
brought to a closed
for the night
bakery of all things and then wrapped in dough with the rats crowing
about delicious meat wrap.

Oh
this was really not funny.

It
might seem funny to someone outside of the situation to find a dough
wrapped and grouchy cat but to Obi-Wan it was so not funny, it was
honestly depressing as he was a Jedi cat!

And
at this point, Obi-Wan was really in a bind, all wrapped up inside
the dough except for his head and tail as he glared at the lead rat,
a fat, gray thing who walked on two instead of all four and was
directing all the others.

Really
at this point they were discussing if they should chop Obi-Wan’s
head and tail off or not with some saying the fur would shield the
meat from being charred and others complaining. Obi-Wan’s sharp
teeth itched with the urge to sink into their neck and make their
comments stop because he was not a kitten!

Honestly.

Grumbling
and contemplating peeing inside the wrap to delay it or at least make
things uncomfortable for them as not even rats would enjoy urine
coated dough and meat, Obi-Wan jerked to a bit in surprise when the
door slammed open, Master Plo standing there with his saber in his
hand and a hissing Qui-Gon on his shoulder.

‘And
now I’m being rescued from rats, oh great, Master
Qui-Gon
is never going to let me live it down.’ The
padawan thought in despair as the large feline bounced off the kel
dor shoulder only to pounce one of the largest, squealing rats as the
rest ran for it as fast as they could though Plo swiping hand sent
quite a few of them flying even as the man hurried to Obi-Wan side
and knelt down, letting Qui-Gon enact his gruesome predatory behavior
when he sunk his teeth into the back of the neck of the rodent.

“Obi-Wan,
thank the Force, we were worried when you did not return.” Plo
rumbled, tucking his saber to his belt and carefully using his claws
to open up the dough to let Obi-Wan out of his prison only to pause
when he saw that inside the dough, Obi-Wan was also wrapped in
several long string lengths which was hogtying the poor kit.

He
pulled a small viroblade, a fruit knife really Obi-Wan thought, and
carefully cut the string.

Instantly
Obi-Wan rolled away from the rest of the dough shaking first his paws and then he shook his sticky,
clingy fur twice before grumpily starting to groom his paws,
desperately trying to get some of the sticky dough and butter out of
his fur.

He
had made a little leeway when Qui-Gon abandoned the dead rat and made
his way over to him instead, gently nose bumping before starting to
groom Obi-Wan without a word, rumbling faintly as Plo looked about
the bakery.

Now
that the danger was gone though…

Obi-Wan
could feel the other two’s amusement and he hissed unhappily to
himself even as he submitted to the grooming since he was dirty
and needed to get all the stickiness out of his fur and he would like
to avoid a bath if possible.

Water
was nice but a cleaning bath was always on his list of least favorite
things.

“… You
got abducted by rats who were going to eat you.” Qui-Gon chortled,
pausing in grooming his munchkin and Plo barely managed to cover his
laugh with a cough as Obi-Wan sulked at both.

“…I’m
going to leave unpleasantness in your boots and litter box
respectively.” He grumbled out and that just had both adults
laughing at him.

Dearly departed is so cool! I really loved what you did with Qui-Gon! Can we get more? Maybe some Obi-wan perspective?

Posted on av swmoddy

His
last memory is the avalanche.

The
rock and dirt coming towards him so fast it looks like a wave of
ocean as he uses the Force to shove the five year old rodian into
Quinlan’s arms to avoid a young life lost.

Those
are his last memories before darkness and pain and then nothing until
new darkness and strange air that smells of decay and a clay like
dirt smell.

For
a moment Obi-Wan has no idea what to make of anything, only that he
can feel Qui-Gon in the distance and that the air is choking him in the pitch darkness.

And
then he feels that he is in a box, there is a heavy layer over him
and panic sets in as he touches the wood above him with wide eyes in
the darkness.

The
panic consumes him as he desperately punches his way into the wet
dirt over him, his mind faintly recognizing that he had been buried
as he starts to desperately claw his way up, to try to get out, to
find air and light.

Pain
gets buried beneath the panic and the adrenaline releasing in his
system, automatically holding his breath as he has been trained to as
a Jedi when there is no air as he desperately claws through the heavy
ground, going up, up, up.

And
then he’s blinded, the light too
bright as he desperately tries to pull himself out, arms coming
around him to pull him up at the same time and he knows this smell,
this scent is familiar even as its mixed with that strange decay
smell and fresh air because this smell is Qui-Gon.

His
soap, his cologne and that natural smell of sapir tea that gets
trapped in the man’s tunic because it’s so fragrant.

“Qui.”
He whispers pitifully, as if Obi-Wan has been screaming for hours in
torture and his throat has become raw and maybe he’s swallowed
clay?

Maybe
that’s why?

The
avalanche came very quickly but… wait, Qui-Gon didn’t come on
this mission.

Still
blinded by the light, Obi-Wan pressed his face to the others chest,
whimpering faintly as he felt someone else drop down, their hands
pressing to Obi-Wan’s back.

Anakin.

That
Force presence is unmistakable but the size is…

Obi-Wan
doesn’t know what to make of it.

Something
is wrong with everything, with him, with Qui, with Anakin but he
can’t quite put his finger on it and instead sobs as the panic
remains but the adrenaline
leaves, pain and stiffness of joints lingering.

()()()

“We
need to get him to a medic center,” Anakin
murmured, his hands resting on Obi-Wan’s back as the dirty redhead,
who was suppose to be dead,
sobbed into Qui-Gon’s chest with a faint voice. Turning his eyes to
the other Jedi when Qui-Gon didn’t respond, Anakin felt his heart
break at the tears in the older man’s eyes and down his cheeks that
disappeared in the man’s beard. “Qui-Gon, we need to get him
medical help.” He said more insistently even as he knew how
traumatized and shocked Qui-Gon must be at that moment.

That
finally seemed to get the white haired Jedi to look up, lost and
quiet before he nodded. “…I don’t know if I can carry him
Anakin.” He got out.

Breathing
out, Anakin nodded. “I’ll carry him, you can hold onto a hand.”
He didn’t think it be good for either to lose full contact with
each other.

He
wasn’t sure what this… revival, would do to the old heart bond
the two had shared.

And
Force,
how were they suppose to explain that a dead Jedi suddenly came back
to life?

Obi-Wan
clearly had nothing to do with it, the man himself traumatized and
shocked from coming out of his own grave.

And
Qui-Gon?

Qui-Gon
looked lost and heartbroken as he held the sobbing man that Anakin
was slowly shifting around to try and lift bridal style as Qui-Gon
sought out the hand closest to him while pulling his cane off his
belt, his tears showing no signs of
stopping.

Qui-Gon
who had grieved himself white haired, Qui-Gon whose heart bond had
turned his Force sense, Qui-Gon who maybe had a shot at healing if
Obi-Wan could be tended to.

‘But
how traumatized is Obi-Wan?’ Anakin wondered as he slowly stood
with Obi-Wan crying out and hiding his face in Anakin’s chest now,
the light clearly bothering him.

In
this equation, Anakin forgot himself, his own trauma at his lineage
brothers death.

Anakin
whose heart was pounding in his chest from witnessing the redhead
bursting from the earth like some kind of terrifying sith undead
legend.

Compartmentalize
and deal with later.

That
was what Anakin did because he had two sobbing Jedi on his hands and
Jedi weren’t suppose to break so fully.

Deal
with it later.

Break
later.

Dearly departed is so cool! I really loved what you did with Qui-Gon! Can we get more? Maybe some Obi-wan perspective?

Posted on av swmoddy

His
last memory is the avalanche.

The
rock and dirt coming towards him so fast it looks like a wave of
ocean as he uses the Force to shove the five year old rodian into
Quinlan’s arms to avoid a young life lost.

Those
are his last memories before darkness and pain and then nothing until
new darkness and strange air that smells of decay and a clay like
dirt smell.

For
a moment Obi-Wan has no idea what to make of anything, only that he
can feel Qui-Gon in the distance and that the air is choking him in the pitch darkness.

And
then he feels that he is in a box, there is a heavy layer over him
and panic sets in as he touches the wood above him with wide eyes in
the darkness.

The
panic consumes him as he desperately punches his way into the wet
dirt over him, his mind faintly recognizing that he had been buried
as he starts to desperately claw his way up, to try to get out, to
find air and light.

Pain
gets buried beneath the panic and the adrenaline releasing in his
system, automatically holding his breath as he has been trained to as
a Jedi when there is no air as he desperately claws through the heavy
ground, going up, up, up.

And
then he’s blinded, the light too
bright as he desperately tries to pull himself out, arms coming
around him to pull him up at the same time and he knows this smell,
this scent is familiar even as its mixed with that strange decay
smell and fresh air because this smell is Qui-Gon.

His
soap, his cologne and that natural smell of sapir tea that gets
trapped in the man’s tunic because it’s so fragrant.

“Qui.”
He whispers pitifully, as if Obi-Wan has been screaming for hours in
torture and his throat has become raw and maybe he’s swallowed
clay?

Maybe
that’s why?

The
avalanche came very quickly but… wait, Qui-Gon didn’t come on
this mission.

Still
blinded by the light, Obi-Wan pressed his face to the others chest,
whimpering faintly as he felt someone else drop down, their hands
pressing to Obi-Wan’s back.

Anakin.

That
Force presence is unmistakable but the size is…

Obi-Wan
doesn’t know what to make of it.

Something
is wrong with everything, with him, with Qui, with Anakin but he
can’t quite put his finger on it and instead sobs as the panic
remains but the adrenaline
leaves, pain and stiffness of joints lingering.

()()()

“We
need to get him to a medic center,” Anakin
murmured, his hands resting on Obi-Wan’s back as the dirty redhead,
who was suppose to be dead,
sobbed into Qui-Gon’s chest with a faint voice. Turning his eyes to
the other Jedi when Qui-Gon didn’t respond, Anakin felt his heart
break at the tears in the older man’s eyes and down his cheeks that
disappeared in the man’s beard. “Qui-Gon, we need to get him
medical help.” He said more insistently even as he knew how
traumatized and shocked Qui-Gon must be at that moment.

That
finally seemed to get the white haired Jedi to look up, lost and
quiet before he nodded. “…I don’t know if I can carry him
Anakin.” He got out.

Breathing
out, Anakin nodded. “I’ll carry him, you can hold onto a hand.”
He didn’t think it be good for either to lose full contact with
each other.

He
wasn’t sure what this… revival, would do to the old heart bond
the two had shared.

And
Force,
how were they suppose to explain that a dead Jedi suddenly came back
to life?

Obi-Wan
clearly had nothing to do with it, the man himself traumatized and
shocked from coming out of his own grave.

And
Qui-Gon?

Qui-Gon
looked lost and heartbroken as he held the sobbing man that Anakin
was slowly shifting around to try and lift bridal style as Qui-Gon
sought out the hand closest to him while pulling his cane off his
belt, his tears showing no signs of
stopping.

Qui-Gon
who had grieved himself white haired, Qui-Gon whose heart bond had
turned his Force sense, Qui-Gon who maybe had a shot at healing if
Obi-Wan could be tended to.

‘But
how traumatized is Obi-Wan?’ Anakin wondered as he slowly stood
with Obi-Wan crying out and hiding his face in Anakin’s chest now,
the light clearly bothering him.

In
this equation, Anakin forgot himself, his own trauma at his lineage
brothers death.

Anakin
whose heart was pounding in his chest from witnessing the redhead
bursting from the earth like some kind of terrifying sith undead
legend.

Compartmentalize
and deal with later.

That
was what Anakin did because he had two sobbing Jedi on his hands and
Jedi weren’t suppose to break so fully.

Deal
with it later.

Break
later.

For little broken ben, what happens when Ben wakes up a little more permanently? Will they have sedated him or something?

Posted on av swmoddy

Shaking
as he woke up, Ben stared at the all to familiar ceiling with wide
eyes.

He
knew this ceiling.

Or
rather he recognized that mark up in the ceiling because it wasn’t
the first time he had been in this room though it was still five
years if history lined up as Ben remembered until he needed this
particular room.

It
was an
isolation
room
in the temple, used
for those who either needed the peace or because they were infectious
to the rest of the temple.

The
Jedi temple.

Why
was…

Ben
struggled to swallow, feeling like his skin was buzzing and after a
moment he noticed why when he managed to turn his head, catching
sight of a portable Force muter.

He
stared at it.

Healers
used those for at risk patients.

He
had never needed one himself though and Ben wondered what it meant
that he needed it now.

Slowly
memories came back to him, the memories of calling for help,
memories of the fever…

‘Oh…I
got sick.’ Ben thought muzzily, still staring at the muter as
the anxieties about the situation he was in bubbled beneath his skin.

“Awake
you are?” A familiar, croaky voice questioned and Ben swallowed
heavily, turning his head to look at the green creature sitting on
the chair at the end of the bed.

‘I…
how did I miss Yoda of all people?’ Ben questioned himself only to
roll his eyes at himself. He’s laying in a Hall bed, the room is
one of the sterile, white rooms, there’s a Force muter in the room,
he’s wearing only a Hall gown, he’s covered in sweat so
thick it could be jello,
his mouth is weird, his brain is fuzzy and that
is the only thing he can think of?

Yoda
almost seems amused, reading something off Ben’s face as his ears
twitched. “Waiting I have been, ready to speak you are, Ben
Kenobi?” He chuckled a bit.

Licking
his lips, Ben huffed a bit. “…Water?” He croaked out and smiled
when Yoda chuckled more, the old man slipping off the chair to pour
him water.

()()()

Sitting
upright thanks to the medical bed, Ben watched Yoda as the old gnome
absorbed what Ben had been willing to tell him as the old Jedi sat at
the redhead’s bedside instead of down by the end.

In
the humans hands an empty glass rested as Ben had been quick to
consume all the water Yoda had so carefully poured for him.

“Difficult
to believe it is.” Yoda finally said, sighing deeply.

Ben
smiled bleakly at him before shrugging. “It is none the less what
happened though I know I’ve left out a lot of details. The Sith
marched on the temple and a new Sith empire took over the Republic as
the Jedi fled out into the stars or were destroyed, from youngest to
oldest unless they betrayed the order.” He murmured tiredly,
looking down at the glass and then at Yoda again. “I didn’t want
to come back here.” Ben said in a more serious tone.

Yoda’s
ears twitched a bit as a he turned a disapproving expression on him.
“Fleeing from trauma worse will make you, help here you would have
gotten, aid for pain, for hunger, for health. Friends here you would
have found.” He settled on and Ben was the one who looked away.

He
knew the other was right but…

The
very concept of seeing everything back in working order when the last
time he had been in these halls they had been covered in bodies…

The
very thought chilled his fevered body to the bones.

For
a few moments the two sat in the silence of his room before Ben
looked at Yoda once more, sighing tiredly. “Qui-Gon brought me
here, didn’t he?” He finally questioned, sighing again when Yoda
nodded.

He
couldn’t really blame the man, if he had someone ill, he may have
brought them to the temple too, for the best care possible and he
knew that Qui-Gon cared about him. That kind of hurt too and Ben
wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the others care.

He
flinched when a gentle hand settled on his knee, looking at Yoda with
wide eyes as the other stared at him with sad eyes in return.

“…Friends
here you have already. Care for you we would,” He squeezed gently.
“If stay you do.”

Yoda
gave Ben a choice.

How
long was it since Ben really had a choice…

For little broken ben, what happens when Ben wakes up a little more permanently? Will they have sedated him or something?

Posted on av swmoddy

Shaking
as he woke up, Ben stared at the all to familiar ceiling with wide
eyes.

He
knew this ceiling.

Or
rather he recognized that mark up in the ceiling because it wasn’t
the first time he had been in this room though it was still five
years if history lined up as Ben remembered until he needed this
particular room.

It
was an
isolation
room
in the temple, used
for those who either needed the peace or because they were infectious
to the rest of the temple.

The
Jedi temple.

Why
was…

Ben
struggled to swallow, feeling like his skin was buzzing and after a
moment he noticed why when he managed to turn his head, catching
sight of a portable Force muter.

He
stared at it.

Healers
used those for at risk patients.

He
had never needed one himself though and Ben wondered what it meant
that he needed it now.

Slowly
memories came back to him, the memories of calling for help,
memories of the fever…

‘Oh…I
got sick.’ Ben thought muzzily, still staring at the muter as
the anxieties about the situation he was in bubbled beneath his skin.

“Awake
you are?” A familiar, croaky voice questioned and Ben swallowed
heavily, turning his head to look at the green creature sitting on
the chair at the end of the bed.

‘I…
how did I miss Yoda of all people?’ Ben questioned himself only to
roll his eyes at himself. He’s laying in a Hall bed, the room is
one of the sterile, white rooms, there’s a Force muter in the room,
he’s wearing only a Hall gown, he’s covered in sweat so
thick it could be jello,
his mouth is weird, his brain is fuzzy and that
is the only thing he can think of?

Yoda
almost seems amused, reading something off Ben’s face as his ears
twitched. “Waiting I have been, ready to speak you are, Ben
Kenobi?” He chuckled a bit.

Licking
his lips, Ben huffed a bit. “…Water?” He croaked out and smiled
when Yoda chuckled more, the old man slipping off the chair to pour
him water.

()()()

Sitting
upright thanks to the medical bed, Ben watched Yoda as the old gnome
absorbed what Ben had been willing to tell him as the old Jedi sat at
the redhead’s bedside instead of down by the end.

In
the humans hands an empty glass rested as Ben had been quick to
consume all the water Yoda had so carefully poured for him.

“Difficult
to believe it is.” Yoda finally said, sighing deeply.

Ben
smiled bleakly at him before shrugging. “It is none the less what
happened though I know I’ve left out a lot of details. The Sith
marched on the temple and a new Sith empire took over the Republic as
the Jedi fled out into the stars or were destroyed, from youngest to
oldest unless they betrayed the order.” He murmured tiredly,
looking down at the glass and then at Yoda again. “I didn’t want
to come back here.” Ben said in a more serious tone.

Yoda’s
ears twitched a bit as a he turned a disapproving expression on him.
“Fleeing from trauma worse will make you, help here you would have
gotten, aid for pain, for hunger, for health. Friends here you would
have found.” He settled on and Ben was the one who looked away.

He
knew the other was right but…

The
very concept of seeing everything back in working order when the last
time he had been in these halls they had been covered in bodies…

The
very thought chilled his fevered body to the bones.

For
a few moments the two sat in the silence of his room before Ben
looked at Yoda once more, sighing tiredly. “Qui-Gon brought me
here, didn’t he?” He finally questioned, sighing again when Yoda
nodded.

He
couldn’t really blame the man, if he had someone ill, he may have
brought them to the temple too, for the best care possible and he
knew that Qui-Gon cared about him. That kind of hurt too and Ben
wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the others care.

He
flinched when a gentle hand settled on his knee, looking at Yoda with
wide eyes as the other stared at him with sad eyes in return.

“…Friends
here you have already. Care for you we would,” He squeezed gently.
“If stay you do.”

Yoda
gave Ben a choice.

How
long was it since Ben really had a choice…

Obi-wan crawls out of his grave. Qui-Gon and Anakin are there to witness this. Bonus points for angst and hugs.

Posted on av swmoddy

Ambling
forward on his long legs, Qui-Gon frowned as the Force continued to
hurriedly prod him along the path, as
if he doesn’t have time to linger or let anyone catch up to him.

The
last four years had not been kind to the man who
had once breathed and lived the Living Force and the Moment as he so
often spoke about,
the decaying heart bond to his former, (no, never former, always
belong to Obi-Wan, dearest Obi-Wan), had twisted Qui-Gon Jinn’s
sense of the Force where he was now more prone to the Force
precognition and visions.

The
mind healers had worried about it for a while until Qui-Gon, to the
relief of those who knew him, adapted to it and showed that he as not
going to just lay over and let the visions consume him without
at least trying to handle them.

His
grief and
the stress
had taken the last of his youth too, his hair now a stark white along
with his beard and brows though he had finally started to laugh once
more to the relief of those who knew him.

A
cane always hung on his belt or was in use as now Qui-Gon’s knees
suffered more for his age and
height
regardless how long lived his people were.

But
grief had taken it’s due and that was clearly visible on the man.

Rushing
after the white haired Jedi, a freshly knighted blond followed with a
deep frown on his own
face.

Anakin
was a young knight, a knight of great renown but he was also a knight
who still followed his master.

Half
of it was by own desire and half of it was by a quiet request of the
council, who still feared that Qui-Gon would lay his life down in a
meaningless battle.

Especially
now.

Because
their mission had brought them to Tol-Ann and if the council could
send anyone
else they would have but Qui-Gon Jinn had been needed.

Because
this was the world and region Obi-Wan had died in.

Qui-Gon
knew that Anakin had carried a stone in his stomach since they were
given the news of their mission, knew that the young man must have
argued with the council behind closed doors but Qui-Gon’s delicate,
and sometimes not so delicate, skills at negotiation had been
required.

And
now they were suppose to leave but…

The
Force was dragging, yelping, whining in Qui-Gon’s ear and he would
listen even if visions and precognition was something that had become
his with Obi-Wan’s death.

‘And
Obi-Wan always handled them didn’t he?’ Qui-Gon questioned
himself as he walked the gravel path between the rows of graves, the
planet’s tradition of burying their people in wooden boxes and
leaving markers quite beautiful.

Some
of the markers were made of colored glass, some were stone, some had
memory moths trapped inside in sheer glass, some were filled with
light…

But
Qui-Gon’s sense of the Force was leading him down towards one
grave.

Black
stone, almost unmarked, sans a date that Qui-Gon’s eyes couldn’t
quite make out until he got closer.

But
also the bulging of the earth, as if something was pressing up.

His
heart was speeding up, he could hear Anakin call out behind him as
Qui-Gon used his longs legs and broke into a run just as a hand burst
through the dirt of
the grave, something flaring into the Force with life.

Even
before the copper color of the hair broke out through the surface
Qui-Gon knew
because the Force was blubbering in his ears as he dropped to his
damaged knees on the blue grass and helped the other out of the
grave, hands desperately digging around and then wrapping around the
others all too familiar body to pull.

It
had been four years, two months, three weeks, two days and fifteen
hours since Qui-Gon had last held his heart bonded.

And
as Anakin finally closed the distance to stare in disbelief, Qui-Gon
held his dirty, traumatized and shaking heart bonded as Obi-Wan
Kenobi once more drew oxygen into his lungs while spitting dirt out
of his mouth, his bleeding and earth covered hands fisting into
Qui-Gon’s beige tunic, covering the older Jedi in all the earth had
to offer.

And
if it meant never being clean again to have this than Qui-Gon was
more than happy to be covered in dirt as he desperately stroked
Obi-Wan’s hair and face, his ears numb for anything but Obi-Wan’s
hitched desperate breaths.

The
other smells of earth and decay, his clothes are falling part and
Qui-Gon can’t find it in him to care
as he buries his face in Obi-Wan’s hair and sobs as a confused,
broken but
oh so beloved and missed voice
whimpers at him. “Qui?”