Chapter Text
Episode One Despite being engulfed by a stifling heat during daylight hours, Tatooine’s night brought with it a crisp wind which pinched at your nose and pricked your cheeks. You grumbled, pulling your robes tighter against your body as you watched the dying embers of the fire throb and ebb, dueling against the breeze for dominance. You knew the flames thrashes were futile but you could not deny the tug of hope in the back of your mind that it might, just for a small time more, survive against the tyrannous wind and bring some form of comfort for you in this night.
To your dismay, a small puff extinguished the glow and you echoed it with a sigh.
“Stupid, kriffing council,” you mumbled, bringing yourself to a squat. You passed a quick glance to the Jedi Knight and his padawan sleeping across from you. Anakin was sprawled rather… undignified upon the floor and you had to suppress the urge to chuckle. The fourteen year old had just hit a growth spurt, now far too dangerously close to being taller than you. Smiling, you warmed your palms with an exhale and rubbed them together as you recalled meeting him for the first time those many moons ago. The small and soft nine year with mischievous blue eyes had now been stretched out into the lanky and sharp teenager spread across the ground. Every now and then he would twitch, sputter something incoherent and shift his position on the floor, lopping his limbs this way and that with a gentle thump. In the oppressing darkness, it almost appeared that he had more than two arms and with his current position - backside arched up - he resembled a spine spider. A smile spread across your face, he certainly had the attitude of one anyway. Or a Loth-Wolf.
You let your gaze fall upon Obi-Wan. It still blew your mind that your old creche-mate was in charge of another living being, especially as you had grown up witnessing his reckless nature put him, and yourself occasionally, in situations that were interesting, or hearing tales such as those from Pijal where he drove a kriffing ship through a Czerka Corporation building. Shaking your head in admiration you took in his sharp features. It had been years since you had last seen him and since then his hair had grown out from that awful spikey trim he adorned as a padawan into longer locks which he was constantly sweeping aside. You remembered the journey to Tatooine, joking that if you did a shot of whiskey every time he ran his hands through the golden silk strands that you would end up obliterated. He just shot you that Obi-Wan Kenobi shit-eating-grin that for some reason made your stomach lurch. Golden stubble had begun to spread across his cheeks, hiding his youthful features and making him appear more like a man. Warmth pooled through you as you took him in, making the chill in your bones subside for a moment. He had grown far more handsome since your last encounter on Naboo five years ago, more than you could have imagined.
Like his young padawan, the Knight was sleeping on the floor. It became evident to you that the last five years of being Anakin’s master had made Obi-Wan age, with laughter lines imprinting themselves on the edge of his eyes, though now they were softened in his slumber. Regret tugged at your heart that you hadn’t been around enough to witness all of the events that etched the crevices in his face, but duty must come first to a Jedi. His top lip was shadowed by the beginning of a mustache, but it was parted from the bottom as he breathed softly. With his head propped up on what you knew was a firm bicep and knees bent so he was curled inwards, the man almost looked vulnerable. You knew that wasn’t the case - you were eying up the first Jedi to kill a sith in years and subsequently he was anointed a Knight without having to face the Trials. You rolled your eyes at that, typical Kenobi, having to go and do the impossible.
Giving up on trying to find the floor comfortable you rose to your feet. Jedis were expected to be used to disagreeable surroundings due to the whole ‘no belongings’ teaching, but you had developed a habit of purchasing throws and pillows for your bed back at the Temple and on the hangar of your ship and on your quarters back at Naboo… so this meant the dusty, cracked and cold ground of Tatooine would not cut it. Rummaging through your backpack, you hummed in content as your fingers curled around your treasure and you clutched the bottle against your chest, plopping back down onto the ground. Although the drink looked dull in the darkness, you knew that the liquid amber that swirled within the glass was one of the most beautiful liquors you had ever witnessed. Popping the cork you took a brief swig, feeling the spirit tumble down your throat and leave in its wake flames that extinguished the cold that had seeped throughout your body.
Gods that was needed.
Licking your lips to ensure every drop of the rather expensive fire-water reached its desired destination, you raised the neck to your lips again about to take another gulp - when Obi-Wan whined.
Your head snapped towards him.
His brows were furrowed, casting branch-like shadows across his face. His breaths became harsher, more jaggedly and interrupted with soft pleas that you couldn’t quite make out. Obi-wan’s fingers curled, crumpling the earth beneath them as they plugged into the ground and a shout ripped its way out of his throat.
“Master!”
Images of Qui-Gon Jinn shot through your mind at supersonic speed. His comforting voice, his deep, earthy chuckle, harsh chidings delivered to you and Obi-Wan, countless cups of tea, odd objects and holograms scattered around his room and his open deviance towards the Council. Then the shattering memories of the broken ex-padawan now Master slashed through your thoughts. Obi-Wan on his knees, clutching a dead Qui-Gon as sobs rocked through his body. Obi-wan refusing to allow anyone to touch his Master, struggling under the deceased man’s higher stature as he dragged him away. Him, in your quarters that night, still sand and tear-streaked not saying a word as you cried, feebly clutching his hand in yours, entangling your fingers. You gently nudging his robes off, striping him down and leading him to the refresher with no other intentions than making him clean himself. You knew he didn’t care about his own state and that meant you had to. Your best-friend’s world had just caved in - screw whatever the code said about forming attachments, Qui-Gon had eventually become Obi-Wan’s father. You cried as you scrubbed the boy, no man because that was the day his boyhood was robbed from him, butchered and impaled upon a red lightsaber. The heartache you felt then as you watched him box up his emotions pathetically, like sellotaping shattered glass back together, when he accepted the burden of training Anakin before he was ready thundered through your body again now at his outcry.
The bottle fell from your hand and met the floor with a thud as you doubled over, a stabbing wave of mental anguish earning a gasp. Trembling, you crawled unsteadily to Obi-Wan, hands burrowing themselves into his robes as Qui-Gon’s name tumbled from his lips and tears stained his cheeks.
“Obi,” Gods your voice was so weak, barely above a whisper as you shook the man gently, “Obi-Wan please!”
He mumbled and began to jerk under your grip, eyes shunting back and forwards behind clenched lids. Tears rolled from your cheeks rapidly, exploded upon his chin, forehead, lips as you looked down upon him, watching as his memory or nightmare - or both erupted across his face. His thoughts were projecting into your own, you knew that's why the pain was so visceral and brutal and you needed him to wake up… no wanted him to wake up because no one deserved to feel this shattered.
Gathering more of his robes this time you shook harder and added more force behind your voice as you reached out to sooth the Knight’s signature. It was dark and pulsing like an infested wound and you felt yourself initially flinch repulsively but pushed past the disgust and fear, attempting to sooth him. Cerulean blue punctuated the darkness of the night as his dirt stained hands grabbed your forearms when Obi-Wan woke with a start. You inhaled deeply, allowing the cool air to fill your lungs as you gazed into the man’s eyes, pushing reassuring waves across the force. A cry bubbled out of his throat and you felt your heart shatter.
Looks like tonight you would need to sellotape up broken glass.
Gently you pulled him up into a tight embrace, hands snaking their way into his soft hair as he burrowed his head into your neck. You stole a glance at Anakin, aware that yours and his master’s current interaction could be misconstrued but the boy was still asleep. Thank the Maker. His hair was thicker than it looked, you realized as you ran your fingers through it, whispering words of comfort as he whimpered into your skin crying scorching tears.
Some time passed before he managed, “I am so sorry my dear”, his voice was nothing more than a hoarse croak, “It’s hard being here… this is my first time here since Qui-Gon’s dea-”
“Shhh Obi, I know”, you pulled back, allowing your eyes to meet as your hands moved from his hair to cup his face, thumbs circling his cheeks as you offered him a weak smile, “Is there anything I can do for you my friend?”
He returned your smile with one of his own, though not as shit-eating as usual, replying with a shadow of his normal cockiness, “No my old friend”, he cupped your hands with his and held them in his lap, giving them a gentle squeeze, “I am worried though that my dashing good looks have been compromised by crying”.
Rolling your eyes, you smacked him playfully, “Yes well you did look like a Hutt,” you retorted, sticking your tongue out at him.
Obi-wan chuckled before acting hurt, “You wound me Y/N, I would have taken a Kowakian monkey-lizard or Rancor but an actual Hutt! What did I ever do to you!”
You both laughed and fell into a comfortable silence, sat across from one another. You stole another glance at Anakin and Obi-Wan followed your gaze.
“He could sleep through an earthquake.”
You smirked, pushing yourself to your feet as you retrieved your bottle, “Like Quinlan then?” you hummed.
“In more ways than one. I… I am not sure if that is a good thing or not,” Obi-Wan brought a hand to his chin, stroking it once… twice, before he asked with a raised eyebrow, “What is this my dear?”
You settled back down beside him, popping the cork before replying, “Glad to see you haven’t changed Kenobi, still an alcoholic it seems.”
This earned you a playful nudge of an elbow as the older man snorted. “Please, with you gone I only had Quinlan left and well,” he waved his hand in the air nonchalantly, “you must remember his predilection for fire-water.”
Casting your mind back, it didn’t take you long before copious memories of the notorious Quinlan Vos and his intoxicated adventures brought a grin to your face. You hummed in agreement and took a swig from the bottle, almost moaning as the warmth spread throughout you.
“Well? What is it?”
“Oh,” you laughed, “Sorry, trapped in my thoughts. This, my friend, is something very expensive and borderline toxic.”
Obi-Wan arched his eyebrow again and with an out-stretched hand took the bottle and a deep gulp. You watched as his eyes shot open, he had not anticipated just how warm the spirit would be as it burned its way through his body, expelling any chill he had previously experienced. His tongue darted out, brushing any droplets that may have gotten caught in his moustache and you felt a different warmth throb within you, deep down. You growled softly, re-obtaining the bottle and drinking deeply.
Curse you Kenobi.
You passed the bottle to the Knight again, watching his Adam's apple bounce as he took another sip, “Obi…” you began, moving ever so slightly closer so that you were pressed shoulder to shoulder. He looked down at you, bottle held to his lips, sparkling blue eyes sheltered by long eyelashes. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you felt your cheeks blush under his gaze, feeling examined by this beautiful specimen of a man.
Clearing your throat, you tried again, “Obi you know you can talk to me right? I know I haven’t been there a lot, like on Coruscant and I am - I’m so, so sorry but -”
“Y/N-”
You shook your head, fumbling with your fingers as he lowered the bottle, “No shut up, let me talk. I just, I am sorry I wasn’t there after Master Jinn’s… death. If I could have I would -”
“- I know -”
“But, like obviously, and obviously it would anyway, but it still haunts you and I want you to know you can talk to me. I’ll be at the temple more now that the Naboo situation has relaxed, you can genuinely chew my ear off because I’d rather that than have you experience this again. I - yeah, I just want you to know that.”
Saying nothing and discarding the bottle, Obi-Wan draped a cloaked arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling his firm and hard figure holding you up as you settled against him. This was the relationship you had shared ever since your youth. You could communicate emotions through touch, and this was him telling you that he accepted your apology (although he thought it unnecessary because you had done nothing wrong) and that he knew, as he always had, that you would have his back until the end. The Jedi Knight gave you a slight squeeze which made your heart stutter.
This reaction was new, but that was a thought for another day. Right now you wanted to enjoy nothing more than the comfort of your life-long friend under the clear night sky. The whiskey had started to work its magic, and combined with the soft warmth provided by the firm body behind and beside you, you felt securely protected against the cold as you nuzzled your head against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. The heavy tug of fatigue danced upon your eyelids, making them droop. Inhaling your friend's scent, spicy-mint mixed with old books, you reached for his other hand as you gave it one last reassuring squeeze before allowing slumber to claim you.