Yan Dooku

So the heelys bit that’s amazing and I love it, how does Count Dooku react and also grievous that’s is something I have to see because you know Obi Wan is clever enough to incorporate the heelys into his fighting style

Posted on av swmoddy

Leaning back in his chair, Yan pressed his fingers together into a
triangle, elbows resting on the desk as he stared at the video
Sidious had sent him.

He had been sent it to see
if he could make sense of it, as a student of the Force and someone
who researched obscure practices and customs with the Force.

But he couldn’t make
head or tails of Obi-Wan’s gliding action.

‘But, did I really
expect anything different?’ His lips twitched into a small, smug
smile, watching Obi-Wan as the video looped to show the Jedi gliding
through the halls of the Senate, passing shocked, corrupt officials
with a breeze and a smile on his lips.

Pride was blooming inside
of him.

This wonderful, brave,
intelligent and cultured man was the product of Qui-Gon, legacy of
his own padawan and what a testament to greatness Obi-Wan was. The
very definition of Light and modesty along with the wisdom to know
when to retreat and when to attack.

Beautiful.

“Qui-Gon, if only you
could have seen the master your boy has become. You would have been
so proud… though I acknowledge that you wouldn’t be too impressed
by his seat on the council with your own maverick ways.” Yan
chuckled quietly to himself, sniffing slightly at the sight of
Skywalker walking into the frame.

Now there was a blemish on
the line.

What Sidious saw in the
little brat he did not know, power was good yes but only power that
could be utilized.

Skywalker was a brute,
just a thug with a club and he wielded the Force that way.

‘Savage he is.’ He
sniffed before turning the holo off, standing and stretching
slightly. There was nothing for him to do here, he could not tell
what Obi-Wan was doing and that would be the final report to Sidious.

He would of course promise
to keep looking into this gliding effect but he highly doubted that
he’d find anything. If Yan were to take a guess, this was a Force
technique that Obi-Wan himself had developed and utilized to the
fullest.

“Well done Obi-Wan, I
look forward to seeing your skill in person.” He smirked, clapping
his hands together once in applause for the man.

()()()

Sneezing hard, the wheel
in his hand slipping from his grasp at the force behind it., Obi-Wan
blinked before sending an apologetic glance at Anakin as the other
had barely caught the wheel before it hit him. “That came suddenly.
I’m sorry Anakin.”

Waving his hand, his boot
stuck between his knees, Anakin just beamed brightly as he set the
wheel down on the caff table. “That’s fine. Sneezing happens,
maybe someone was talking about you?” He laughed brightly before
getting back to work on his boot.

Smiling faintly, Obi-Wan
sighed. “If that little wife tale was true, then I’d be sneezing
my brain out Anakin. The CIS are certainly talking about us a lot I
imagine.” He half scolded, half sighed.

He got a grimace of
agreement in return. “True. Think you’re coming down with
something?” Anakin paused, sending him a worried glance, blue eyes
trailing over Obi-Wan searchingly.

Waggling his hand in a
dismissive gesture, Obi-Wan sat back in the sofa. “No, I feel
perfectly fine. Really Anakin, I do feel fine.” He tacked on when
he got a disbelieving look from the blond.

Wiggling his multitool at
Obi-Wan, Anakin snorted. “Forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical
master, you have a tendency to underplay your health.” His tone was
dry, knowing of Obi-Wan’s habits.

Huffing faintly, Obi-Wan
ignored the flush rising, trying to suppress it while crossing his
arms over his chest. “Yes, well, in the middle of a mission, it is
best not to be distracted by such trivial nonsen-”

“You passed out in the
middle of desert once, you had come down with heatstroke and it gave
you a fever.” Anakin shot back dryly, smirking faintly to himself
when Obi-Wan squawked in response.

‘I missed this, this
squabbling, the closeness…’ Obi-Wan thought, even as he shot back
at Anakin with how he had been fine and that he just needed some
water. ‘Mending bridges, maybe… maybe I can get Anakin to rely on
me once more…’

Lovely moddy can we have more shut me down, more protective and caring Dokku plus Anakin pretty pleeeeeeseeeee

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Glancing hopefully about the water biome garden, Anakin perked up
when he noticed the silver haired human sitting on one of the stone
benches, shielded by one of the large trees. Quickly, he waved with
both his arms, getting Dooku’s attention and he had to bite down a
grin as he saw the man visibly sigh before he gestured to the north.

A wry expression but fond
expression crossed the man’s face, easing the slight snapping of a
snake in Anakin’s chest despite the man’s initial reaction.

“I’ll see you later
master!” He called over his shoulder as Plo strolled in after,
shooting off in the north direction as the kel dor simply chuckled at
his human padawan’s action, eyes flickering hurriedly over the area
in search of red.

Jogging north for about
ten minutes, Anakin finally saw what he was in search of.

Obi-Wan, laying on his
back in the grass with his arms under his head by one of the lakes of
the water biome, his chest rising and falling in steady motions,
sporting the red tunic Anakin had seen him in that morning before
class.

“OBI-WAN!”  He cried
out with delight, wincing when he saw the other flinch in shock and
sit up hurriedly, clearly startled.

He relaxed however when he
saw who it was, waving in return with a small face crossing his tired
face.

And he did look tired,
large, dark bags underneath his eyes clearly visible when Anakin
crossed the distance to his friend.

Flopping down on his
knees, Anakin stared worriedly at the other before holding his arms
open, smiling happily when Obi-Wan instantly leaned in to rest his
head on the Jedi’s shoulder, his arms snaking around Anakin’s
waist in turn to return a light hug. “Hey… sorry about startling
you.” He whispered.

A muffled hum rumbled into
his shoulder. “Is fine, was almost asleep. Had a bad night.”
Obi-Wan mumbled into his shoulder, his breath warming Anakin’s dark
tunic in the shoulder area.

Rubbing Obi-Wan’s back a
bit, Anakin mentally cursed as this would be the fourth day in a row
Obi-Wan was having sleep issues. “Were you trying to take a nap?”
He winced, guilt welling up in his chest harsh and fast, almost
choking him when Obi-Wan nodded into his shoulder. “Oh, okay, hmm…
okay here, how about you use my lap as your pillow?” Anakin
shifted, sitting down on his arse on the grass, gently pressing
Obi-Wan down.

The other slid easily
down, letting out a soft, tired noise as his head came to rest on the
blond’s lap. “You sure? You feel-” Obi-Wan let out a bone
cracking yawn. “Antsy.” He got out.

Reaching into his pocket,
Anakin pulled out a silver ring that he showed the other. “I am,
but I got this, so I should be okay.” He grinned as he let Obi-Wan
get a closer look as he squinted up at him.

Taking in the silver
details of gears with teeth on each side of the gears inside of the
ring, Obi-Wan’s face furrowed with confusion as he turned his
attention back to Anakin. “What is it?” Obi-Wan blinked up at the
other, blinking tired eyes.

“Master calls it a
stimming tool,” Anakin explained, showing Obi-Wan how he could move
the edges on each side and make the gears move inside of the ring.
“It’s a tool to help me self regulate my behavior when I’m
feeling antsy and energetic and I have to sit still. He has a few
more if this one fails to help but so far it’s been helping me in
classes.” Anakin explained before slipping it on and showing
Obi-Wan how he could use it while wearing it.

It made very little noise
and was just simply there, moving when Anakin touched it, either with
the Force or with his touch.

Master Plo had called it
for kinetic gear ring and so far Anakin was enjoying it, it was
helping, that he knew.

He also had a fidget
spinner, but that one made more noise and if Obi-Wan was already
tired so Anakin wasn’t about to pull it out and his squishy shaped
like a astromech was somewhere in his mess of a room.

For a long minute, Obi-Wan
squinted up at him before humming and letting out small nod, closing
his eyes when Anakin ran his fingers through the red hair and curling
the growing hair around his fingertips.

He could feel Obi-Wan
relaxing into his lap, feel him settling in comfortably as Anakin
massaged his scalp steadily, rubbing down the others nap and back up
in a careful touch, all the while using the Force to work with the
kinetic ring, settling as he peered down at Obi-Wan.

The others breath was slow
and steady, clearly on the verge of falling asleep with the
comforting touch and Anakin’s warmth.

I know you Moddy! Shmi is dead in Feral child, isn’t she? I mean, Anakin needs some fodder for Falling though the angst moment for Obi-Wan if she’s alive could be tempting too for you, but my guess is that she’s dead and you’re just delaying to make sure Anakin is old enough to go banzai.

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“The
likelihood of his mother being alive is very slim, you are aware of
that, yes?”

Obi-Wan
paused at his terminal, staring at the blurred letters before he
slowly raised his head to look at Yan, lips pursed as he stared at
his grandmaster.

Yan
simply took a fresh sip of his cup of tea. “Giving him false hope,
despite his age, would be very cruel.” He murmured in a quietly
chiding voice.

Obi-Wan
noted that both his master and Jocasta was quite obviously focused on
their own things, not wanting to engage in this particular
conversation.

But
by the tenseness of Jocasta’s lips and Qui-Gon’s frown, it was
obvious they agreed.

Quietly,
Obi-Wan closed the lid of his terminal, taking a deep breath as he
allowed himself to close his eyes for a few precious seconds.

Then
he focused right back on Yan. “Yes, Shmi’s Skywalker’s chances
are slim, but they are not impossible. She may still be alive, after
so many years as a slave, she’s routine and knowledgeable enough to
keep going. And she has a son, never underestimate a parents desire
to return to their children.” He murmured seriously, resting his
hands on top of his terminal.

A
pitying look entered Yan’s ice blue eyes for a few seconds before
it disappeared behind that placidly bland wall the other kept up. But
it was there long enough for Obi-Wan to see it even as Yan inclined
his head and go back to his tea and magazine.

‘He
doesn’t think she’s alive. He thinks I’m deluding myself and
giving Anakin false hope because I want to believe she’s alive.’
Obi-Wan looked away, frowning heavily before
standing, setting his terminal down and moving to the window to peer
out at Coruscant’s skyline.

He
could feel the others trade glances behind him, hear Jocasta shift to
sit beside her husband on the black couch and Qui-Gon sitting back
heavily on the brown one as they traded what he knew must be worried
glances but that wasn’t important,

He
had thought the meeting between them all had gone so well, Yan was
obviously on the fence about Anakin but had been reluctantly
impressed by a former slaves knowledge and power and Jocasta… well
she had been spoiling him with sweets and had stuffed his pockets
with it before he left for the creche.

He
had thought it had gone so well, but clearly Yan had thoughts and the
others shared it.

Having
Shmi Skywalker dead wasn’t something he had really considered
before,
he had thought that he would manage to find her and that Anakin would
have to take a choice and
Obi-Wan was sure he was the superior choice or that he could offer
Shmi some kind of incentive to stay in the temple somehow.

But
if she was dead…

‘Would
that really be so bad?’ The snake in his chest hissed, that vicious
thing that had given him fangs and made him the feral one of the
temple, the thing that made Qui-Gon look at him with pride and awe
and
something more that Obi-Wan still wasn’t sure how to term but knew
was soft and good,
the same kind of feeling that filled Yan and Jocasta’s eyes
sometimes when he showed them an advancement he had made or an
accomplishment.
‘If she was dead though…’
The snake trailed off.

But
Obi-Wan could fill in what it hadn’t said.

If
Shmi Skywalker was dead then Anakin would have no other option than
the man who had not only given him freedom but also taken him to the
temple, given him clothes, went to him during the days, offered to
teach him, came
by with gifts…

If
Shmi Skywalker was dead, her
death
would be a tool to further Anakin’s own rage, to
give him the emotions his power needed to become the Sith Obi-Wan
knew he could be, to make him into the brother Obi-Wan knew he could
have.

But
if she was alive…

Her
opinion would honestly not matter to Obi-Wan, he did not know this
woman but Anakin’s opinion…

Anakin
was his and Anakin’s well being, his happiness, his power, his
bright eyes… that all mattered to Obi-Wan because Anakin was part
of him
and nervously, Obi-Wan reached out through the bond to feel Anakin’s
emotions, feel them bounce against his shields, feel the joy, the
uncertainty, the curiosity of a child.

His
child.

His
child that could decide to leave if Shmi Skywalker was alive and she
wanted to take him somewhere else in the galaxy because she was his
mother.

The
thought was unbearable and something fragile in Obi-Wan chest felt
like it was breaking. “No!” He snarled, turning around, eyes
slitting as his eyes landed on the three Sith members sitting around
the caff table. “He’s mine,
you all
are mine.
I
won’t allow
anyone to take you from me!” The words were growled out and Obi-Wan
bared his fangs at all three, watching Jocasta and Yan jump in
surprise.

They
had never been there fore any of Obi-Wan’s outbursts.

Qui-Gon
had though and quietly he stood, moving to Obi-Wan’s side in a slow
glide of black and shimmering blue robes. The large man reached up
and cupped the back of Obi-Wan’s head, leaning down to first press
a kiss to the younger Sith’s forehead before pressing their
foreheads together. “We are my little monster and we will find her,
dead or alive and make an offer she can’t refuse. Or we will
slaughter
her killers and give Anakin the vengeance he needs and you the
kingdom you deserve.” He murmured, his brogue deep and accepting.

Reaching
up, Obi-Wan fisted his hands into deep blue silk, dragging Qui-Gon
closer as he trembled with unchecked emotions. ‘A kingdom?’ He
wondered at that phrase, even as Jocasta and Yan joined them in a
hug, murmuring reassurances too.

It
wasn’t the first time Qui-Gon had said he would have a kingdom.

‘And
why shouldn’t you?’ The snake snarled. ‘It is all
yours.’

Quietly
resting his forehead against Qui-Gon’s, Obi-Wan mulled on that
before quietly agreeing.

Maybe Yan needs to visit his grandson… er… his grand-padawan in daredevil recklessness.

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“No.”
Was the growled answer Yan got when the door finally opened after
two knocks.

Brows
raising, Yan cocked his head at his former padawan and let a bemused
smirk curl his lips. “Why hello to you too Qui-Gon, I see you are
the pinnacle of manners as always.” He stated airily in a lightly
scolding tone. Honestly he knew that he had taught the other better
than this when guests came over, especially well meaning guests.

Eyes
closing, Qui-Gon lifted a large hand to his crooked nose, pinching
the bridge while letting out a heavy breath. “…Hello master Yan,
I’m very happy you’re back but no, you are not seeing Obi-Wa-”
He paused suddenly, peering uncertainly at Yan before sighing.
“Though it would be a distraction…” Qui-Gon mused a bit,
stroking
his chin slowly in thought.

‘A
distraction?’ Brows climbing as high as they could on his face, Yan
stared at Qui-Gon in confusion that he hid behind a bland mask as the
man finally seemed to come to a decision with a heavy sigh.

“Just,
don’t give him any ideas right
now,
please?” The taller man practically pleaded quietly as he stepped
aside. “He doesn’t need any ideas right now.” Qui-Gon tacked on
tiredly as he moved back into the quarters, right to the couch.

Taking
a moment to remove his boots and hang his robe, Yan kept half an eye
on his former padawan, noting how he stopped at the couch to lean
over the back, reaching down with a soft murmur.

‘Is
young
padawan
Kenobi resting? It’s the middle of the day.’ Confusion growing,
Yan finally made his way over.

Coming
around the couch corner, he finally understood the
situation.

Obi-Wan
was sick, covered in purple spots with a red center as he laid on the
couch with a plush he was clenching to his chest with his arms. His
brow was covered in sweat and yet he trembled as if cold with a
blanket tucked around him as he peered blearily at Yan with glazed
eyes. Clearly not a child up to mischief
though he smiled when he saw who their guest was.

“Grandmaster
Yan.” He rasped out, struggling to get up only for Qui-Gon to push
him down and hold him on the couch.

“Hello
Obi-Wan, don’t get up on my account.” Yan murmured softly before
glancing at Qui-Gon with questioning eyes.

How
in all Force name had Obi-Wan managed to get Wild Rim spot fever?

It
was called the Wild
Rim spot fever for a reason.

“His
friends challenged
him to a swoop race down in the slums,” Qui-Gon answered a question
before it was verbalized, still leaning on the back of the couch as
he kept half an eye on his padawan to make sure he wasn’t trying to
get up. “And it seems there is tainted
water from ice down there at the moment, ice that came fro-”

“Wild
space.” Yan cut in with a deep sigh.

Well,
this did complicate his visit.

Obi-Wan
wouldn’t be in shape to do much of anything, Wild Rim spot fever
was infamous for how lackluster it would leave you and for zapping
all energy of those inflicted with it.

“Indeed,”
Qui-Gon nodded. “From there Obi-Wan ended up crashing said swoop,
which he’s lucky he walked away from unscratched honestly,
considering the speed padawan Vos reported,” A muscle in Qui-Gon’s
jaw jumped quite notably. “But
that’s only because he fell in a pool of what was suppose to be
drinkable water, which he of course had to report that he had…”
He huffed loudly.

Obi-Wan
just let out a tired noise and cuddled his plushie some more, closing
his eyes tiredly.

Sitting
down in the available armchair, Yan made an understanding noise as he
observed the two.

Obi-Wan
had landed in what was suppose to be drinkable water, said water had
made Obi-Wan sick, Obi-Wan had in a round about way prevented people
on Coruscant from getting sick.

‘Well,
at least that is a padawan’s duty there.’ Yan felt his lips
twitch into a small smile before he leaned forward, resting his
elbows on his knees as he settled his hands together. “How about I
tell you about your master and mine first mission young Obi-Wan?”
He offered.

Qui-Gon
gained an alarmed look before he relaxed a bit as Obi-Wan gave a
tired cheer, clearly seeing the benefit of having the boy distracted.

And
well, having a sick and distracted padawan was better
than having
a sick and suffering padawan, even
if it meant suffering some humiliation about the past.

Ohh you just did an update of a story with Dooku lineage feels… which I love. Can we get some of that for kybertears? Maybe he plans to kidnap his grandpadawan— to keep him safe? Also looooooove you work. Its amazing how many stories you keep up :D

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Cupping
his chin while watching the recording once more, Yan pressed his lips
together with a low,
thoughtful
noise.

An
actual star child.

His
own padawan had
the
star child, had
been the master of the star child.

He
knew about it of course, he was still a Jedi when the boy was brought
to the temple but he hadn’t been aware of it being Obi-Wan. No one
outside of the council and selective healers along with the rescue
team themselves had been aware of the identity of the star child.

‘Well,
maybe certain creche members, to keep it hidden if he began to cry
would
also be in the loop. Old Dolan potentially…’ He rubbed his chin,
frowning heavily.

He
knew what his master would want.

Sidious
would want this star child caught, contained… would want the tears.

But
that was just it, Star children’s tears couldn’t be corrupted.

Hesitating
a bit, Yan paused the footage and pulled out the key for the mid
drawer on his left side, gently unlocking it to reach for the single
box resting in it.

Clicking
open the box, Yan stared at the softly glowing little kyber crystal
resting in the soft glimmer silk.

He
had tried to corrupt it, had tried to make his once blue saber turn
red but he couldn’t. He had tried his hardest until he realized
that star children tears weren’t corruptible and Yan had instead
gently taken out the crystal to put it aside, unsure why he kept it.

Somehow
he couldn’t bring himself to give it to Sidious and instead got an
artificial red one for
his saber, hiding away the little piece of his past in his desk in a
little box.

Obi-Wan
had cried this little piece as a child.

It
had called for Yan when he was still a Jedi and he had made it into
his saber as a Jedi.

It
had saved his life several times and even now it sang softly with a
quiet sort of mournfulness.

That
didn’t shock him, tears were generally only cried for a few reasons
and he knew that people had issue wielding the ones made with pain
and the happy kyber tears?

He
couldn’t imagine those remaining long, calling for people more
readily than Obi-Wan’s sad tears.

‘The
box was large… he cried so many tears, so many of them screaming of
pain…’ Yan cast his mind back to the lidded box in the lightsaber
equipment room, standing innocently further in the back.

And
yet everyone knew it was there.

‘I
can’t let him have Obi-Wan.’ Yan closed the lid of his kyber
crystal and tucked it back in his drawer, locking it up with a deep
breath.

Obi-Wan
had cried enough tears of tortured pain.

And
if Sidious got his hands on him, he would torment Obi-Wan until his
mind broke, until he had all the kyber he could use, bit by bit, tear
by tear to make an army or make weapons of unfathomable
comprehension.

Standing,
Yan made his way out of his office, cape flaring slightly behind him
as he passed by the waiting Ventress, his loyal assassin falling into
step with him.

Neither
said anything as they walked until Yan finally found the words. “Star
children are not to be abused, should Sidious give you any orders
regarding Kenobi’s potential capture… kill him.” He murmured
quietly.

Asajj
paused for half a second before following still. “I’m sorry?”
She noted quietly.

Keeping
his face blank, Yan continued walking with his face turned forward as
they entered a new hall. “If you capture Kenobi… kill him, do not
hand him over to Sidious or anyone of his people. What Sidious has in
mind for him will break him. Death would be kinder and if Sidious
gets his hands on him…” Yan paused, stopping, Asajj almost
walking into his back.

He
could feel her eyes in his neck as Yan swallowed heavily. “…Why?”
She asked slowly.

Closing
his eyes, Yan let out a deep breath. “…Star Children as he can
not be corrupted, they can only break. They become hollow souls…
death is more merciful than what will happen to Kenobi should Sidious
get his hands on him. If he gives you orders to capture Kenobi, if
you manage to capture him and he does not flee… kill him, for his
own sake.” He finally looked at the pale skinned woman behind him.

She
stared back before nodding slowly, her face grim and her eyes
narrowed thoughtfully.

Turning
back, Yan continued walking forward, intent on getting on his ship
and leaving for a meet up with that croaked toad Nute Gunray.

Oh,
if he could just strangle and snap that karking assholes neck, the
day would be so much better.

‘If
only he didn’t start crying, if only he managed to hold on for a
bit longer… if only Sidious weren’t in charge of both sides. Oh
Obi-Wan, death would be more merciful to you than his grasp.’ Yan
turned out into the courtyard, taking a deep breath of Serenno’s
fresh air.

It
smelled stale to him and the sunlight looked gray.

Much
to his own disgust, Yan could only hope that Skywalker could protect
poor Obi-Wan, the little brat was uncouth and a shame on the line but
hopefully his power could at least go to something useful and keep
Obi-Wan Kenobi out of Sidious hands until the last day, until
operation Knight Fall.

‘Force
be with you Obi-Wan Kenobi… for you will need it.’ Yan mused to
himself as the breeze ruffled at his hair, a small part of his cold
heart sending off an apology to Qui-Gon’s ghost for not being able
to do more for his former padawan.

What about a time skip for Feral child Obi? I mean we gotta move along at some point and it feels like this apprenticeship won’t be as bad as Jedi QuiGon.

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“He’s
grown quite a bit.” Yan noted calmly as he stood at his former
apprentice side, observing
the duel tournament with faux uninterested eyes that flickered around
slowly.

Qui-Gon
said nothing, only kept his eyes on his apprentice, watched every
move and monitored thoughts and emotions through their bond as
the boy slowly circled the besalisk he was up against, prowling like
the vicious Sith he was.

“But
then again, he had a long way to go.” There was a tiny bit of
censorship in Yan’s tone and Qui-Gon bristled despite not looking
away.

He
knew what the other meant, he knew what Yan was saying. He could
never resist to remind Qui-Gon how absolutely vicious Obi-Wan had
been at the start of the apprenticeship, couldn’t resist making
small digs in an attempt to civilize Obi-Wan despite the boy now
putting his best foot forward in any conversation.

Yes,
Obi-Wan was a feral child but…

Qui-Gon
repressed the urge to smirk.

Obi-Wan
had grown,
fierce and lovely and nightmare
of every opponent that faced him even
as he smoke with a honeyed tongue and charmed every master and
politician around him with his words and his smile, his hair always
groomed with not a single hair out of place and his clothes never
wrinkled.

Obi-Wan
could have been a monarch, he moved like a predatory prince, self
assured, no longer an awkward teen but on the cusp of manhood as his
black robe flared around him, showing off the charcoal gray tunics
and leggings he sported under, accented only by his red boots, sash
and belt as he observed the world with analytical eyes.

‘But
he is not tame.’ Qui-Gon cackled internally as Obi-Wan gave his
standard mando’a yell before
engaging,
the boy long ago having learned to emulate the mandorian war spirit
in a fight. When Qui-Gon had inquired into it, Obi-Wan had quietly
confessed that he had encountered several mando’a bounty hunters
and mercenaries.

And
he had admired them.

That
was why, without fault, Obi-Wan had started using the mando’a war
scream, intimidating his opponents before he ever struck a single
blow on them physically.

Battling
with every piece of his body, showing everyone what a mistake it
would be to challenge him as lighting sparkled over his entire body
when the besalisk tried to hit him, the lighting traveling the man’s
arms as Obi-Wan smiled wickedly.

No,
Qui-Gon had done no such thing as
to tame the wild boy he had taken on,
he had taught a feral and wild animal to pretend docility.

Obi-Wan
was no one’s pet or slave even as he played pretend at being a Sith
beholden to Qui-Gon and his rules and word.

‘But
he’s not that docile and one day they will all learn how shallow
that mask really is,’ Qui-Gon eyes glittered with spite as
the besalisk, Pool or Pong or something like that, barely dodged in
time for Obi-Wan’s saber.
‘One day he will be attacked in the temple as
he was as a child,
one day someone will target him… and he will answer in kind.’
Qui-Gon let his smirk break freak.

They’d
see how vicious Obi-Wan still was because Obi-Wan was no longer a
teen and he did not need Qui-Gon to protect him.

‘No…
he is my precious apprentice and I would follow him to the gates of
hell to storm the devils throne, I’d help him conquer anything he
wished for…’ He crossed his arms over his chest, breathing out as
Yan let out a thoughtful noise at Obi-Wan kicking out his opponents
knees.

It
was very simple and yet not.

He
belonged to Obi-Wan and not the other way around as
many would assume.

He
was the master, the teacher, Darth, rank and file above many… but
Obi-Wan was holy to him above even his own freedom.

They
thought he would tame the wild beast Obi-Wan had been.

But
instead the day would come when Obi-Wan rose, would acknowledge his
power and his right to rule and Qui-Gon would be right behind him in
his war.

‘They
better hope that Obi-Wan doesn’t turn against them, that he won’t
turn on the Sith… because I’ll follow him and for all Yan and
Jocasta tease and disapprove… they’ll come right along.’
Qui-Gon smirked wryly to himself.

One
day Darth Carrion would arise from the ashes of the leashes the
council had tried to put on him and Force be with anyone that put
themselves in his path then, he would force them to their knees.

Qui-Gon
couldn’t wait
it, anticipation
thick in his veins as Obi-Wan bared his teeth with a feral smile on
his lips.

#shutmedown- how does dinner with Anakin and Plo go?

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Opening
up the door, Count Dooku stared at them in surprise before visibly
shaking
himself and smiling faintly. “Master Koon, young padawan Skywalker,
to what do I owe the pleasure?” He murmured calmly.

Smiling
faintly in return, Plo inclined his head. “We were hoping to invite
you and young Kenobi for dinner. It
seems the young ones have struck up a friendship and I would be more
than amendable to serving up human food in the oxygen rich kitchen
for you all,
if you don’t already have plans that is?” The Jedi master settled
on calmly while Anakin bounced excitedly on his heels, glancing over
Dooku’s shoulder for Obi-Wan, hopeful.

It
was a standard sized padawan and master quarters from what Anakin
could see and it also seemed to have the standard furniture since
Dooku and Obi-Wan weren’t living there, so the quartermaster had
only filled it with the basic couch, chairs and tables. Much to his
disappointment, he couldn’t see Obi-Wan on the faux black leather
couch in the room but he could be in the kitchenette he guessed.

Pausing,
Dooku frowned faintly before sighing and glancing over his shoulder
too. “I… do not believe we would be up for that today…” He
hesitated before gesturing for them to enter as
he stepped aside.
“Today has been a bad day for Obi-Wan.” He explained, dropping
his volum.

Blinking,
Anakin stepped in quickly and glanced around even as he removed his
boots, not seeing Obi-Wan anywhere. ‘Bad day, so maybe he’s
sleeping?’ He glanced to the closed doors only to look at Count
Dooku when he cleared his throat.

Instead
of verbally answering, he pointed towards the kitchenette’s table
and for a long, uncomprehending moment, Anakin stared.

Until
he glanced lower.

There
he was, Obi-Wan, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest below
the kitchen table with the chair slightly pushed away from it to make
space under. He was sporting a pair of blue and silver headphones and
had a plushie in his arms, his chin leaned on his knees with his eyes
closed.

He
seemed to be sporting nightwear from what Anakin could tell, a very
soft blue set and a pair of fuzzy pink soaks.

A
black
blanket
with
white stars dotting it was
resting on top of the table.

“I
was about to cover the table when you knocked.” Dooku explained,
sighing a bit.

“Cover…”
Plo paused, peering at the former Jedi master for
an explanation.

“He
likes darkness when he’s like this.
Which is why
I brought
his hiding blanket
that
I
throw over the table he hides under for privacy.” The Count
explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “He need’s the quiet
when he has days like this, privacy and peace.” He continued before
shrugging, looking a bit defeated. “And I assume it makes him feel
safe.”

Occupied
with each other, the two didn’t notice Anakin make his way over
quietly, folding the blanket over the table and then sliding in under
along
with the redhead.

Obi-Wan
opened his eyes to thin slits, staring at Anakin before giving him a
grimacing smile, not saying a word.

Not
that he needed to as Anakin settled in beside him, waiting.

After
a moment, Obi-Wan put his head on Anakin’s shoulder instead, eyes
closing again as the blond just sat beside him.

Anakin
could feel the buzz of energy in his veins… but he could also feel
the closeness of Obi-Wan and he focused on that, on the sounds of the
others breathing and his warm
body.
Faintly he could also hear a low noise coming from the headphones and
if he strained himself a bit, he could hear something that sounded
like chimes or maybe bells.

Some
sort of calming music or something.

Maybe
a piano?

He
could ask later he figured as
he heard the two older men figure out that Anakin was gone, feeling
both of their eyes on the table for a long second before Yan offered
to play chess with Plo to pass the time.

Relaxing,
Anakin dared to sneak his arm around his friend, feeling Obi-Wan
settle even more into him with a soft noise.

Anakin
knew what it was like to have bad days and so he just sat, quietly
and calmly with his cheek resting on Obi-Wan’s head, sharing the
little dark space under the table.

#vaderintime- Dooku helps his grand padawan and great-grandpadawan.

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Watching
the other man, Obi-Wan hissed quietly as Dooku cleaned out the cut on
his face. “That… what is
that?” He wheezed out, feeling pathetic and worn out.

At
least he had the Force back and Anakin’s
bond vibrating as it held onto him.

Not
that Obi-Wan was any better, reaching out to his lover in return.

“Cleaning
solution. I did not expect to find you this injured and therefore did
not pack a full medbay,” The Shadow murmured as he continued
cleaning. “They beat you rather badly, my grandpadawan.” He
sighed deeply before setting aside the swab and picking up the bacta,
carefully applying it to Obi-Wan’s injury.

‘For
being someone that wasn’t prepared, he had a lot of bacta.’
Obi-Wan thought a bit wryly, hoping that the other had a nice
painkiller for him too at the end since his face still hurt a bloody
murder, especially after the other had fixed Obi-Wan’s nose.

Having
a reset nose hurt like a bitch.

Arm
resting against his chest in a sling, his broken fingers set in a
splint until they could reach proper medics or healers, Obi-Wan
decided to ignore the pain for a bit with the aid of the Force. “I
know this is a long shot, but you wouldn’t have any clothes I could
potentially borrow… a tunic or overshirt, Master
Dooku?”
He questioned quietly.

Pausing,
Dooku peered at him before dropping his eyes down to Obi-Wan’s
blood stained tunic. “I do have a few tunics, yes. They’ll be
oversized but I suspect you won’t care about that.” He smiled a
bit.

Snorting,
Obi-Wan shook his head. “No, as long as it’s clean, I’ll be
more than happy and grateful.” He huffed softly, reaching
up to touch his bacta bandage covered earlobe, missing the weight of
his earring.

Of
Anakin’s gift.

‘Don’t
think about it… it’s been stolen, it’s gone. I won’t get it
back.’ He reminded himself sternly as he watched Dooku clean away
the items he had used to heal Obi-Wan.

“I’ll
go fetch a tunic then, you can head up to the cockpit if you wish,”
Dooku hummed before pausing. “And… you can call me Yan, young
Obi-Wan.” He murmured, giving Obi-Wan an affectionate smile before
heading to the door, disappearing out before Obi-Wan could summon his
mind.

‘Guess
he doesn’t have painkillers…’ Obi-Wan noted with some
disappointment before smiling shakily to himself, the relief of
having his grandmaster back being a wonderful warmth inside of him.

Carefully,
Obi-Wan slid off the medical bed of the small medbay, stumbling
slowly towards the hall to make his way to the cockpit as Yan had
suggested, sending soothing emotions to Anakin and getting antsy ones
in return.

And
love.

Anakin
was filling their bond with his concern and love for Obi-Wan, causing
Obi-Wan to flush as he made his way to the cockpit and sat heavily
down in the secondary pilot seat, huffing out an exhausted breath as
he stared at the white dots of stars and planets outside the
viewscreen of the ship.

‘That
should not have been as hard as it felt like, those pirates really
did a hard beating.’ Obi-Wan grimaced, cradling his arm to his
chest before letting out a low noise when Yan entered, sitting up
slightly.

The
man set a black tunic down on the other chair and held up a
hypospray, an apologetic smile on his lips. “Apologies Obi-Wan, I
forgot to give you this in the medbay.” He murmured.

Letting
out a huff of breath, Obi-Wan felt a large smile cross his face. “Oh
thank
all the For-” Both paused as an oily sensation suddenly filled the
Force and Obi-Wan’s breath hitched.

He
knew this sensation.

He’d
felt it when facing Maul, he had felt it when Anakin had shown him
how the Dark side worked but never to this extent, never swelling and
covering the entire Force as if it was threatening to swallow them
and while Obi-Wan felt frozen, Yan only looked wary as he looked
around with a deep frown crossing his age weathered face.

It
was between one breath and the other that the Dark struck, Obi-Wan
left unprotected and unprepared as it struck it’s fangs into him
not unlike a serpent, wrapping around him as Obi-Wan screamed in pain
and covered his head.

He
faintly felt Yan hands come down on his shoulders, heard his voice
and Anakin’s screaming in his head but all Obi-Wan could focus on
was the pain
that threatened to consume him as the Dark side, as Sidious
finally struck his claws into Obi-Wan’s mind without the protection
of Anakin’s earring.

As
tears leaked from his eyes, Obi-Wan wondered if this was how he was
going to die.

With
Anakin’s mental, anguished screams in his head and Yan’s hands on
his shoulders, far away from those he loved.

‘I
want to go home… I want Anakin.’
Obi-Wan fracturing mind begged the Force before darkness spread and
consume all in it’s path.

In Feralchild can we get to see Obi go wild and actually bite his opponent in a sparring match? Qui-Gon has to scold him in public, but in private he’s both amused and proud of his little imp.

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Feeling
his eyebrows almost jump off his face with how fast they rose,
Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice as the judge tried to intervene in
the duel that had turned into a brawl though
that was not why she was intervening.

Honestly
what Chun had said to Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon had no idea, but he had never
seen his little apprentice get that angry before and certainly not
provoked into doing what he was currently doing as Obi-Wan tended to
be a bit more refined.

Now
however he was reduced to biting, both apprentice and Initiate having
lost their sabers thanks to Force waves from both of them and instead
of going for his saber, Obi-Wan had yelled a mando’a battle cry for some reason and
tackled Chun, the two rolling on the floor until Obi-Wan managed half
pin Chun with two hands on his left arm.

And
when
Chun had reached up to punch him with his right, Obi-Wan had
bit down on his arm,
fierce, sharp little teeth drawing blood through the pale beige of
the Initiate uniform as Chun yelled and raged only for Obi-Wan to let
out a muffled snarl and dig his teeth in further.

There
must be some unconscious Force use behind that bite because there was
no way Obi-Wan’s bite was this strong on it’s own and Qui-Gon let
out a small hiss as Obi-Wan managed to clearly break Chun’s arm
with his teeth before the judge finally separated them as
biting was not technically allowed during the duel tournament.

Blood
coated around Obi-Wan’s mouth and stained his teeth as he grinned
viciously while
being pulled away to the sideline and the healers were taking Chun
and Qui-Gon absently noted that he had to take Obi-Wan to the healers
to give him a check.

Who
knew what could be transferred through blood and he’d rather not
take a risk with his little ball of angry legacy.

“The
name, feral child, suits him quite a bit Qui-Gon.” Shaak noted in
obvious amusement from beside him as she leaned forward to get a
better look as several masters muttered around them at the display.

Giving
the woman a low hum, Qui-Gon nodded. “Indeed, it’s a rather uncouth behavior and action, especially in a tournament setting but it
worked for now and all is fair in a
fight after all.
I am of course going to continue my effort to tame him…” Qui-Gon
rumbled out, letting his statement hang.

Yan
sniffed from his other side. “Uncivilized, really Qui-Gon, as
amusing as his feral tendencies are, you must simply impress upon him
some manners.” The older Sith drawled.

Letting
out a low rumble, Qui-Gon had to fight to hide his smirk.

Oh
if they only knew just how feral Obi-Wan could be when he wanted to…
but Yan was right, Qui-Gon would have to teach him how to behave…
in public that was.

“Does
he bite when you spar with him?” Jocasta mused curiously from Yan’s
side and Qui-Gon let out a small barking laugh of amusement.

“Well,
I do have a few teeth mark on my left calf, but that was mostly to
distract me so he could try and get his hands on my lightsaber to
beat me.” Qui-Gon chortled.

Honestly,
it may be barbaric but Qui-Gon was proud of his little devil child,
using any and every advantage he had to get the upper hand.

‘My
brutal little feral apprentice.’ Qui-Gon smirked, flashing his
teeth at Obi-Wan when the boy looked his way, wiping his mouth with
with his sleeve, which of course caused Yan to tisk quietly.

Obi-Wan
flashed his blood stained teeth back at Qui-Gon, gleeful at the pride
Qui-Gon was sending through the bond despite the fact that he knew
that the man would soon come over to scold him in front of the other
masters.

If
there was one thing Obi-Wan did, it was to thrive under the attention
of Qui-Gon, especially since what Qui-Gon sometimes said in public
and the impressions Obi-Wan got through their bond and what Qui-Gon
said in their quarters could be highly contradictory.

No,
Qui-Gon was quite happy about his feral little imp.

Can we have more of the daredevil recklessness au with Dooku learning about the crazy shit obiwan has done due to temple gossip? With Dooku making sure Obiwan has proper climbing equipment because Obiwan will probably never stop so might as well making it safer for him? Becaus3 Dooku did the same stupid daredevil shit Obiwan did ergo quigon is getting more gray hair and heart attacks from dooku’s encouragement.

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Hiding
his delight behind a serene smile, Yan took a new sip of his tea as
Qui-Gon stared at him with the promise of death in his eyes.

Kinda.

Well
not really, more like despair as he gripped his hands in his
leggings.

And
meanwhile Obi-Wan was excitedly squeaking and wiggling as he tested
out the gloves Yan had given him.

Climbing
gloves to be precise.

He
had heard from Jocasta how his young grand padawan was quite the
reckless daredevil, something she had cheerfully reminded him that he
had used to do. So Yan had been rather amused by that news and had
picked up a gift for Obi-Wan before showing up to meet his former
padawan at the tea salon in the temple.

Well
one of them, but he preferred the twi’lek inspired one, it smelled
of deep, aromatic herbs and was colored in deep blues and greens with
black furniture.

And
now it had an excitable young boy with a new gift.

“These
are awesome! These are miniature sticky hooks that can aid someone in
climbing up a slippery surface, almost like a spider would without
damaging the wall or surface, which would leave no visible mark if
you were infiltrating.” He squeaked with awe and fascination as he
examined the gloves he was wearing.

“Yes,
they are very good to climb with, you should try them.” Yan hummed
quietly, gesturing at the wall.

Instantly,
Obi-Wan’s eyes lit up and before his master could stop him, was
racing towards the wall, already scaling it like the utter loon the
boy was.

Just
as Yan was as a teen and oh it was so amusing to see the look of
despair and utter conflict on Qui-Gon’s face.

“You
utter asshole.” Qui-Gon whispered with horror, looking white as a
sheet as the two, along with all the other Jedi in the tea salon,
watched Obi-Wan scale the wall with excited little chirps.

“Oh
I know,” Yan stated in satisfaction, switching between watching
Qui-Gon smugly as his disheveled old padawan rubbed at his face and
looking at his grand padawan fondly as the boy rather quickly and
efficiently made his way up the wall, quickly learning his way around
the gloves.

Oh
if he had been twenty or even just ten years younger, he would have
taken this boy on as his padawan, Kenobi was an utter delight and a
pride to any lineage and he was rather happy Qui-Gon had taken him
on.

“Do
take care not to slip out of the gloves my boy when you reach the
ceiling!” He called after Obi-Wan, smirking when Qui-Gon let out an
aghast squeak.

“Yes
master Yan!” Obi-Wan called back and after a few moments called
again. “These gloves should have matching knee pads! It would make
this easier!”

Pausing,
Yan considered that before chuckling and nodding.

“No!”
Qui-Gon hissed, eyes fastened on his padawan as the boy was now
moving onto the ceiling, ‘climbing’ it in a manner with excited
wide eyes as he hung miles up over them. “You will not get him
climbing pads too! He is already reckless enough as is, he tried to
climb the tower of knowledge without support!” Qui-Gon growled,
twisting his hands worriedly together.

Hesitating,
Yan tapped his fingers on the table between them. “…So what
you’re telling me is that I need to add a helmet to the gifts.”
He clarified before smirking at Qui-Gon’s disbelieving and
terrified groan.

‘Spider
boy, spider boy, does whatever a spider does…’ Yan hummed
internally, going back to watching Obi-Wan as the boy crawled along
the ceiling with a combination of the gloves and the Force, sparking
with delight as he peered down at everyone with wide green eyes.

Truly
a little devil.

Yan
liked
his grand padawan very much.