I think this was supposed to be ... funnier. Spoilers for Jude Watson's novels, Secrets of the Jedi and Jedi Quest: Special Edition.
Summary: Siri went a little nuts after Ferus left the Order. Rated PG.
Life, After
Siri went a little nuts after Ferus left the Order.
It didn't happen right away, of course. Indubitably, something was different, but the Jedi had peace and justice to uphold, sometimes at the cost of heart-to-hearts and Padawans with gold streaks or ribbons in their hair. It was, in fact, quite possible for the changes to be less subtle than they appeared to the Council or the handful of members who knew Siri Tachi best, and still go largely unnoticed.
But they were there, in any case, and nobody was entirely sure how long the grieving period was supposed to be for an ex-space pirate whose Padawan had abandoned her (these sorts of things weren't always covered in the Jedi handbook and/or Master Yoda's infinite wisdom, naturally), so mostly, everybody politely kept their distance.
"Master Siri's at the Outlander a lot." Anakin's mouth was full of breakfast cereal - the healthy stuff that Obi-Wan insisted upon, and then doused in several packets of sweetener that Anakin had filched from Dex's diner - and he chewed rapidly and swallowed when his Master frowned at him. He was nineteen, and a lot of the things he did and said now were vaguely disgusting: Eating, questioning everything, forgetting his lightsaber.
Obi-Wan's response was to scrub at a collection of dirty dishes (mostly Anakin's) with more vigor than necessary. "What does she do there?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.
"Drinks a lot." Anakin paused to slurp liquid off of his utensil. "She's a good dancer, too."
Obi-Wan shut off the water and stared at his wet hands.
He'd hesitated to call it a "suicide watch", but inevitably, that was what they were doing. Quinlan stuck around for the two weeks that Obi-Wan was away on a small, diplomatic mission, making sure Siri wore underwear when she went to the Orange District, and double-checking that she got home safely afterwards and stayed there.
Mostly, Garen traded shifts with Obi-Wan. They were laughably transparent in their intentions, and Siri called them on it right away. "Now, now, Miss Zora," Garen had just chided, and rubbed her back while Obi-Wan stood in the doorway awkwardly.
Sometimes, it was just the two of them. Obi-Wan would always sit at a respectable distance and just watch. Sometimes, they played cards or watched holovids; sometimes, Siri stared into the close distance and did nothing for hours. He never brought alcohol and she stopped asking him for it, but she always seemed to be able to acquire more between visits.
The day Anakin decided he would stop getting black-out drunk was when he woke up with half of his head sloppily coated in conditioner. A well-squeezed tube of hair bleach and its packaging littered the 'fresher, and Anakin tried to remember how he'd acquired it. When he washed himself off, an entire patch of his hair was streaked blonde.
"Why did you do that?" Obi-Wan asked later, wrinkling his nose. Anakin shrugged. Then he forgot his lightsaber and remembered when he was halfway to class and had to turn around and come back.
Obi-Wan had made them food, but Siri didn't seem very interested in it. After a minute or two, Obi-Wan realized that he wasn't either.
He always made a point not to touch Siri if at all possible; it brought up feelings he had always found difficult to suppress, and so he shoved them down deep instead and pretended they didn't exist. Today, though, Siri sat between his legs on the worn rug, letting out a small acquiescing noise when Obi-Wan's fingers twined with hers.
"I feel like Zora a lot," she tells him. Obi-Wan wants to write it off as intoxication, but knows that it's much worse than that - Siri is perfectly lucid. "He was always uncomfortable when I talked about her. I think he hated her."
"Jedi don't hate."
"I think he wanted to know how I could just turn off all emotion for three years," Siri says, lost in her own thoughts. She smoothes Obi-Wan's palm over her upper thigh and holds it there. "But I didn't. There wasn't one day where I didn't think about him every single minute."
Obi-Wan tries to think of something comforting to say, but Siri hates his platitudes more than Anakin. He rubs her knee, and she nudges his foot with her own. Then a tear slides down her cheek. "He's not a Jedi," Siri whispers, and her voice breaks on the last syllable.
The Council warmly approves Siri accompanying them to meet with Taly Fry again. There's a history there, and nobody has to emphasize to any of them how important the mission is.
Obi-Wan watches her from a safe distance. She's thinner, he notes; her eyes are still piercing, but there's a vulnerability to them, now. She's not Zora anymore. She can't be Zora again, no matter how much she wants to.
"It's not a suicide watch," he tells himself, but something about the set of Siri's jaw, the way she glances at him until he looks away guiltily makes him think otherwise. He hopes Ferus is happy, wherever he is.