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21. Dooku

When Elara leapt off the transport, her lightsaber was already ignited. On either side of her, Obi-Wan and Anakin followed suit. There was nary a stumble as their feet hit the tarmac. They were running the minute they touched down, knowing that their target was within reach. That there was a possibility that this could all end now. And as they ran, as they disappeared into the mouth of the cliff face, there was an explosion––their transport was gone, decimated in an eruption of flame and shrapnel. The sound was a reminder that had they been on there for a second longer, they, like the clone troopers on board, would be dead. They'd be dead like all their Jedi brethren who'd been killed in the arena. And it was those deaths they sought to right; and all they needed to do was subdue Dooku. But that was no small task.

The hangar they entered was small, and there was only one ship; but that ship was Dooku's means of escape. It was being prepared for take off, ready to sweep the man far from their reach. The moment the footsteps of the Jedi started to echo through the cavernous room, Dooku calmly turned towards them.

"You're gonna pay for all the Jedi you killed today, Dooku," Anakin warned.

"We'll take him together," Obi-Wan murmured tactfully. Elara gave a slight bob of her head, in order to agree. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her lightsaber, eyes not once straying from the man they were to face. "Anakin, you go in slowly on the left––"

"I'm taking him now!" With that proclamation, Anakin sprinted forward, arms pumping at his sides.

Simultaneously, Elara and Obi-Wan called out to him.

"No, Anakin, no!" Obi-Wan called.

"Anakin, stop!" Elara cried.

And Dooku, completely unperturbed, thrust a hand forward and towards the charging padawan. From his fingertips sparked lightning. It arked and crackled through the air before, in the blink of an eye, wrapping around Anakin's body. Elara gaped in quiet horror as her brother's body seized up, as he cried out in pain. She watched as he was casually lifted off the ground and almost casually tossed aside. He hit the stony, craggy wall, and fell to the ground, robes smoking. Two kinds of instinct warred within Elara––the instinct of a sister and the instinct of a Jedi. As a sister, she wanted to rush towards him, check him over, ensure his safety; as a Jedi, she knew it was imprudent to do so, as it put her directly in the line of fire.

The culmination of the clash of instincts was Elara brandishing her lightsaber. Both hands clasped the hilt, a clear indication she was ready to fight. Because if there was one thing that Elara Skywalker was, it was fiercely protective of her family. From the corner of her eye, she could see Anakin shifting; he writhed in discomfort, in pain. But he was moving––he was in pain, but he was alive. The heat of anger started to boil in the pit of her stomach, but she couldn't allow it to grow. For if it did, it would surely become all consuming. She would do what Anakin had already done once before––succumb to the anger and allow it to guide her movements. To guide her misjudgements. And none of that could be allowed to pass. Because there would be no defeating Dooku if her thoughts became clouded. There would be no way of protecting Anakin if she lost herself in anger.

Beside her, Obi-Wan raised his own saber, inciting a silent challenge. Dooku began to casually circle towards them, his steps slow and lithe. Almost perfectly in sync, both Elara and Obi-Wan counteracted his movements, squaring off with their adversary.

"As you see my Jedi powers are far beyond yours," Dooku pronounced. His hand had slipped to his hip, spindly fingers gracefully draped over the hilt of a lightsaber. "Now––back down."

He raised his other hand, fingers evenly spread, and pointed it at the space between the two Jedi. He was not going to give away his next move, who he was going to zap next. There wasn't even an indication in his eyes as to who his target would be. All there was was a simple quirk of his wrist, a slight change in angle that sent lightning crackling towards Obi-Wan. There was a crackle as the lightning met the blade of his lightsaber, which he quickly raised to absorb the hit. There was the sound of cracking and popping as electricity met pure energy. Then it disappeared with an echoing crackling sound, and left the only sound to be the humming of Elara and Obi-Wan's sabers.

"I don't think so," Obi-Wan challenged smoothly.

They watched as Dooku, with a flourish, unholstered his saber hilt. It was sleek and slightly curved, the likes of which Elara had never seen before. Its shape made sense as it activated; Dooku fought in a style all his own. Whereas most, if not all, Jedi fought with a double-handed grasp, he predominantly fought with one. There was a lower, more dissonant hum as the saber was activated. Its vivid red light was a stark contrast to the gentle blues of the Jedi blades. Obi-Wan rushed forward, arking his saber towards the more experienced man. They exchanged blows, saber blades zapping together. Elara kept her distance, but also kept her eye on the fight. She waited for her opening.

Dooku brought his blade down against Obi-Wan's, and as the Jedi Knight pushed away, panting. There was equal distance between all three combatants. All stood at the ready––but Dooku was the only one smirking.

"Master Kenobi, you disappoint me. Yoda holds you in such high esteem!" he chided teasingly. And with his attention focused on Obi-Wan, Elara found her opening. It was even opened by Dooku, who turned and quirked a brow. "Surely you can do better!"

She rushed forward, keeping light on her toes, and swung her lightsaber without any flourishing. It was a straight, hard strike, meant to shake his stance, push him back. But all it succeeded in doing was have Dooku smoothly sweep a step aside, blade rising to block. Their eyes locked between where their sabers crossed, Elara's intense gaze meeting Dooku's impartial one. There was then a flurry of movement as both of their weapons moved simultaneously. Hers would swing to the left as his swung right, meeting with a clash. Streaks of red and blue cut through the air vividly. Dooku was quite a number of years older than Elara, but he was strong. His strikes were fast and brutal. Each hit was lithe and carefully calculated, laden with years of experience that she didn't have. He advanced on her with each clash, pushed her a step backwards with each one he took forward. There was a moment, a fleeting moment where Elara thought she'd gained an upper-hand; she'd pushed her blade against Dooku's with all her strength, and he'd skid back a few steps. But then, with a casual throw of his arm, a concentrated burst of the Force slammed into her chest.

The invisible impact sent Elara sailing backwards. Her feet lifted off the ground, but she wasn't launched as high as Anakin had been. Where he had gained height, she was gaining distance. And when her heels struck the ground, she went hurtling to the concrete, body tumbling over itself. Then, suddenly––she wasn't rolling across concrete; she was falling. Dooku had shoved her off of a landing platform, which dropped into the abyss of a cavern. With a yelp, Elara released her hold on her saber hilt, and that hand swung around to grab the edge of the platform. Her head whipped down to watch the hilt plummet into the darkness below. It threatened to swallow her, too, if she let go. Out of sight, combat continued to rage. The sounds of clashing sabers filled the air, echoing over her head teasingly. It teased her with the knowledge that, so long as she was dangling there, she could do nothing.

With a grunt, Elara swung her other arm upwards and grasped the platform ledge. Her fingertips screamed at the effort of keeping her hanging. A grimace curled across her face, and the muscles in her arms tensed. She started to pull herself upwards, till she could inch her elbow up onto the platform ledge. From there, she leaned her weight atop it, slapped her other hand onto the ledge, and hauled her torso upwards. Elara then swung a leg upwards, and sighed in relief when she was able to get her knee up and over the ledge. With a great amount of effort, she pulled herself up onto the platform, and rolled away from the edge. She then rolled up into a crouch, surveying the field of combat.

Obi-Wan had fallen. He lay sprawled across the floor, clutching one of his legs.

Anakin was facing off with Dooku, lightsabers twirling in a fantastic display of motor skill. They almost looked evenly matched. Neither one of them was advancing or retreating; they moved around one another as though this was a fight they'd had before. And then quite suddenly, Dooku gained an upper hand. He twirled around, broke Anakin's defensive hold on his saber, and swiped his own upwards. The red blade passed through the middle of Anakin's bicep, effectively rending his arm. There was no cry of pain––there was no chance for one. For the moment that his dismembered arm hit the floor, Dooku Force shoved Anakin back towards his master.

Elara was moving before she'd even registered the thought of doing so. She was on her feet, sprinting headlong towards Dooku. But there was no cry of rage or anger. The horror of what she had just seen spurred her forward; but the duty to protect her fallen comrades is what drove her. She thrust her hand forward as she ran, probing into the Force as she did so. There was a twinge, and the hilt of the lightsaber that had been in Anakin's hand came rocketing towards her. The minute that it met her palm, it hummed to life. She skid to a stop between Dooku and her fallen family. She brandished the glowing green blade in a silent 'try me' way.

"How touching," he drawled. With a flourished flick of his wrist, Dooku raised his saber arm with a lithe grace. "Loyalty can be fatal, my dear."

Elara quirked an eyebrow, though the rest of her face remained sharply stoic. "Then that's one less cause of death you have to worry about."

There was a warble as she swept her lightsaber towards Dooku, level with his neck. He smoothly ducked out of the way, and upon straightening up, he slashed at her legs. Elara leapt upwards, letting the blade sweep beneath her feet. Once she was back on the ground, their blades met with a crash. She and the Count started to circle one another, blades crossed. It was a tense stare-off, their faces illuminated half in blue, and half in red. Dooku was the first to withdraw his blade, only to twirl it around and swipe it back towards her. Elara blocked it, then immediately moved to block another. The barrage of hits that he dealt towards her was intense and relentless. It had her utilizing every strategy and form that she'd ever been taught. It was nothing like any of the sparring matches she'd ever had; it was wickedly quick, and it reminded her that it was the first time she'd ever truly fought someone also skilled with a lightsaber.

There was a natural break in the battle, where they both put distance between them. Elara was breathing hard, and her limbs were starting to feel weary. A full day of battle was truly fatigue inspiring, and the starts of that were starting to ache in her muscles. But she knew she had to power through it. She was well aware that this was not a fight she could win; she didn't have the experience to do so. What she was doing was stalling. Stalling Dooku until help arrived.

"I heard there was quite an uproar when you were allowed to be trained as a Jedi," Dooku posed. "So far, I see nothing particularly inspiring." It was a goad. An attempt to garner a reaction out of her, which she did not allow to happen. Because what he said was true, it wasn't outlandish or rude. What Elara did do, however, was begin to advance to start her next attack.

As she did so, Dooku raised a hand. His outstretched fingers curled, and there was a sudden, intense pressure around Elara's throat. Her airway was being artificially constricted. Air left her mouth in a choked sound as she stumbled to a stop. Instinctively, a hand flew to her neck, grabbing at the restricting feeling. But there was nothing to pull at, nothing to relieve the discomfort. Because it was the Force that was choking her at Dooku's bidding. With one of her own hands grasping at her own throat, her expression morphed from one of confusion to one of intense determination. With stifled sounds scraping out of her throat, Elara lifted her lightsaber and staggered a forward a few steps. It was hard to do. Everything in her body was panicking, going haywire as it started to realize it had no oxygen source. But she continued to advance on her adversary, craning her head around uncomfortably.

Dooku's impassive retaliation was to curl his fingers a hair more. The pressure increased around her throat sharply, and this time, her knees buckled. It was no longer the lack of air that was the issue––it was the pain. Elara could feel her esophagus being crushed. Feel the vertebrae in her neck being squeezed. Her eyes scrunched shut and her lips snarled in both pain and panic. The lightsaber toppled from her hand, which shot up to cup her neck alongside the other. Both knees cracked down against the cement. The corners of her vision started to go fuzzy, and black spots danced across her vision.

"I was intrigued to discover who Master Yoda's newest apprentice would behave, and I have been dealt my answer." Dooku approached her with unhurried, stalking steps. A choked cough forced its way out of her throat, and pitched her forward. Elara caught herself on one hand, and shakily tipped her head back, eyes rolling slightly as they tried to meet Dooku's. "Disappointingly."

Elara was unable to tell if, with that word, the pressure had increased, or if it had just become too much. But her elbow buckled and she hit the cement hard. Her whole body started to stiffen and arch. Her heartbeat pounded erratically. Her mouth gasped for air it couldn't take in. Both of her eyes had rolled back into her head, and her eyelids remained scrunched shut. A pressure had started to build in her head, heavy and uncomfortable. Her face had grown unbearably hot. And then, suddenly––everything went slack, and consciousness slipped away.

OOOO

The last time that Obi-Wan's heart had been wracked with horror, Qui-Gon had died in his arms. He'd watched every tiny muscle in his Master's face go slack. Watched the lively mirth in his eyes disappear. Felt the lingering heat of his skin as it started to cool. Those were memories he tried his damndest to forget; he'd allocated them to the dark corners of his brain, where they hibernated indefinitely. But they'd very suddenly surged forth. The emotions he'd felt then––horror, pain, fear––threatened to tear him apart from the inside. Because he felt like he'd witnessed Qui-Gon's death again––only this time, Elara had taken his place.

Her face had been so red.

The sounds that choked out of her mouth made his skin crawl.

He'd watched her try to power through it, watched her try to fight it to no avail. She'd dropped to the ground, clutching at her own throat. Her feet scrabbled against the floor helplessly. And just as her whole body went taut, all of it went limp. The switch was so quick, it was almost more concerning than everything else leading up to it. Because it was in that moment that Obi-Wan feared that he'd just watched her die; and he'd just laid there and let it happen. The potential guilt of that was already eating him alive. So much so that during the ensuing battle between Dooku and Yoda, his eyes didn't stray from her crumpled body.

When it was all over, there was a faint air of defeat inside the hangar. Dooku had escaped, Anakin was missing a limb, and Elara was a motionless heap on the floor. So as the clone troopers flooded into the room, Obi-Wan's first objective was to get to her. The slashed, already cauterized wounds on his arm and leg were nothing compared to what had just happened to her. So he hobbled his way over to Elara, wincing at the stinging ache each step caused. He dropped down beside her, and it was then that he noticed she was still breathing. That observation, however, still wasn't enough to fill him with relief.

"Elara," he tried gently. When there was no registration of his voice, he gently placed a hand on her cheek. He started to sweep his thumb across her cheekbone, hoping it would be enough to rouse her. "Elara." This time his voice was a little louder, a little more firm.

He watched as, slowly, her eyebrows started to twitch. They slowly furrowed, and a raspy, groaned sound rumbled in her throat. Her eyes slowly cracked open, lids fluttering as her gaze lazily rolled around. It was then, as he saw the blue of her irises, that relief swept through him. His eyes momentarily fell shut, shoulders slumping as tension left them. But when his eyes opened again, he was faced with Elara's pinched expression. The guilt of being unable to help her still burned hot in his chest, and it was fanned by the way she shifted uncomfortably. Because as Elara came to, a rattling cough ripped from her chest. One of her hands shot to her throat, cradling it protectively.

"Kark…" she squeaked out hoarsely. The next breath she took was long and audible. It rattled and squeaked, and it ended in a quiet wheeze, one that almost became another cough.

"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan asked. His hand still cupped her cheek, thumb swiping soothingly. It was all he could think to do, all he could bring himself to do. He still felt helpless to do much of anything besides try and comfort her.

Elara's bleary gaze swept to meet his from under furrowed brows.

"I… think so…" Her fingers gently massaged the sides of her neck, as though trying to wipe away what had happened. Then, suddenly, her eyes widened. Her hand flew from her throat to Obi-Wan's wrist; she squeezed it tightly, urgently. "Anakin––is he…?"

With a look shot over his shoulder, Obi-Wan spotted Anakin; he had his left arm draped over the shoulders of a clone trooper, who was helping him hobble away. When he returned his eyes to Elara, he arched his brows. "He's alright."

The hold she had on his wrist let up before it tightened again. Her head rolled slightly, leaning its weight into his palm. In immediate response, his thumb swept along her cheek again. "Your leg." That single sentence bore a concern for him––that he was knelt beside her, despite his injury. The wound itself ached, but in his concern, he hadn't bothered to linger on it.

Obi-Wan smiled down at her reassuringly.

"It's alright. Come. Let's sit you up." The hand that had been resting against her cheek slipped back to the nape of her neck. He cradled the back of her head as she pushed herself up. Supported it in case there she'd been inflicted any physical injury. Every twitch of her lips, scrunch of her nose, or low hum was something he registered. Everything about Elara was rumpled––her tabard was slipping off one shoulder, her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was a mess. Some of it slouched into her face, and his fingers twitched with the instinct to brush it away. Instead, he let his hand drop to her shoulder. "Any pain?"

Elara rolled her head in a slow circle; she placed a hand flush to the side of her neck and grimaced. "No. Not really." Her voice was quiet and hoarse, still. It made her sound intensely vulnerable, and that caused Obi-Wan to frown. She took stock of the room around them, then, tension squaring her shoulders. "Where's Dooku?"

"Escaped, Dooku has," said Yoda. He approached the pair with slow, steady steps. Elara started to straighten out her appearance, brushing hair out of her face, tugging at the folds of her runic. Obi-Wan helpfully tugged the shoulder of her tabard back up. When he turned his attention to Yoda, he found the Jedi's gaze focused intently on him, eyes slightly narrowed. Averting his eyes like a naughty child, Obi-Wan placed his hand back in his lap, fingers curling. Yoda stopped beside them and brought his cane down with a pointed click. His eyes moved between the two silently for a moment. "But for the best, it happened; the lives of Master Kenobi and his padawan we would have lost."

Obi-Wan's eyes rose on their own accord and met Elara's. She was staring at him with softly parted lips and eyes that shone with worry. Again his hand twitched, desiring to reach out somehow. But, again, he curbed the instinct. He turned his attention to Yoda and inclined his head. His exchange with Elara had been brief, but undoubtedly noticed.

"And for that we owe you our lives, Master Yoda," he said.

Yoda hummed and shook his head. "Owe me, you do not." His attention shifted to Elara, whom he nodded to. "Glad I am, to see you safe, my padawan."

"Thank you, Master." Elara bowed her head in deference, her voice still soft and baring the brunt of the attack made on her.

"Back to Coruscant we must go. Much to discuss there is; troubling times are ahead, very troubling times…" Yoda shook his head, wrinkles becoming more prominent as he frowned. With a sigh, he started to hobble off, head slowly swinging from side-to-side in a thoughtful shake.

The Jedi Master's parting words were heavy. A reminder that what had just happened, what they'd just endured would occur again. It would become common place to face-off with adversaries as powerful as Dooku. War was no longer on their doorstep––its foot was wedged between the door and the frame. Obi-Wan quietly registered the weight of that realization, his shoulders tensing and sagging beneath it. It was only when a hand appeared in front of his face that he snapped himself out of his thoughts. Elara must have ambled to her feet while he was distracted, because it was she who'd proffered her hand.

"Here, let me help," she offered.

With a thankful nod, Obi-Wan clasped her hand. She provided a steady anchor as he struggled to his feet, wincing at the pain in his leg. And once he was upright again, he immediately favored his right leg to his left. Elara then, without being asked to, gently maneuvered his injured arm over her shoulder. Her side pressed up against his, and she looped an arm firmly around his waist. Simultaneously, Obi-Wan looked down at her as she looked up at him. Their eyes met and locked with an intensity that hadn't happened before. Something stirred inside his chest upon seeing her tucked under his arm. Feeling the heat of her body pressed against him. On their own accord, his lips parted, just slightly.

"Thank you," he eventually murmured.

Elara nodded, and reached up to clasp his injured hand. Her expression was so gentle that it pulled on his heart strings. "Don't mention it."

And it was then, as her lips tipped into the most lovely of smiles, that Obi-Wan knew that he was in trouble.

Afterword: Originally planned to write more for this chapter, but I wanted to get something out to y'all; so here's the ultimate conclusion of the Battle of Geonosis! We'll pick up back on Coruscant in the next chapter, and then after that… the Clone Wars era begins!

Review Replies!

MsRosePetal: I'm glad you've been enjoying the recent chapters! Thanks again!

julyp: I can say that, from here on out, shit's gonna pick up between Obi-Wan and Elara. We're gonna get some real good, quality Obi-Lara moments (I'm so here for the one in the next chapter), and there is a confession building. I adore writing the slow-burn tension between the two, because I think that as two people who uphold the Code so well, they're just… petrified of how to proceed with any of it. I'm glad you've been enjoying the story! Thanks again; I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

bambam411: I took the arena battle as an opportunity to show what Elara's working with combat-wise. 'Cause we're about to enter a war… she's gonna need to stretch those fighting skills as much as she can! And I am, indeed, gonna do a Luke x OC! It's gonna directly tie to this story, so there'll be plenty of references to events that take place in this one. I've got a fun concept someone requested of me ages ago, and I've been simultaneously developing it alongside this story! I've got a trilogy of stories planned, all interconnected. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Dally'sTUFF: Ahh, I'm glad that the last chapter was exciting enough, and that the tension between Obi-Wan and Elara is reading well! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

bigfootsmall: Thank you so much! I hope that you enjoyed this little stint with Dooku!

msbeku1: I struggled with trying to find something for Elara to fight and then I suddenly went 'wait. We don't get enough gundark content.' So I tossed one in there so that our favorite trio can complain about them all through the Clone Wars. Anakin and Elara have the most close-knit sibling relationship; both of them having lost Shmi was devastating, so they're gonna do whatever they can to protect what remains of their family.

And I've got a very defined idea of how Elara fights with certain characters. Obi-Wan and Elara certainly have a symbiotic fighting relationship, and it's only gonna develop more as the Clone Wars progress. And while we haven't seen Elara and Anakin fight, we will, and that's gonna be a whole different style.

I love giving characters obstacles to work around. So Elara going blind felt like a perfect device to use during the fight. Because we don't get enough blind Jedi fighting in my opinion. They literally train to fight blind; and then look at Chirrut from Rogue One! So I thought it would be fun to play into an aspect not often explored.

A lot of Obi-Wan's shifting emotions are being displayed subtly––such as with him assisting her while she was blinded, and holding her hand while asking if she could continue. He's a man of remarkable poise and subtlety; and that gives me so much to play with.

Elara and Dooku will cross paths again––and she's gonna show him just what a 'disappointment' can do.

And, yes, the Luke/OC story! I'm very excited for it. It was requested an age and a half ago (oops), but the concept is pretty fun, and I've been developing it for years. I'm hyped that you're excited for it!
I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, and that you're doing well! Thanks again!

MotherAiya: I think that Jedi fighting blind is an under-used device, so I had fun writing that scene in the last chapter! And Obi-Wan and Elara's fight-flow is also a joy to write; and we'll get more of it as the Clone Wars happen. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Duchess of Lantern Waste: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

LoveFiction2020: Thank you; I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Shadow Wolf 15846: Anytime! I had a blast answering your question, so if you ever have another one, shoot it my way! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

talowe: I'm really excited that the Clone Wars era will commence in the next chapter. I've got a list of episodes I'd like to write, and I'm so ready to dive right in; I've got so many ideas. I've yet to finish it, but I just know my whole heart is gonna break. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

DCDGojira: Thank you so much! With the Clone Wars will come the scolding––to and from everyone. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Shiranai Atsune: I hope that you enjoyed the new update! Thanks again!

MalirBly: I'm really happy that you've been enjoying the story, and that you love Elara! She's a joy to write and develop, so I'm glad that you've been enjoying reading her journey. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

PrettyRecklessLaura: I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

And thank you to those that added this to their follows/favorites; thanks again!

Next chapter––the Clone Wars era begins! It may be a chapter or two-ish before we really dive into the Clone Wars series. There's some set-up for it all that needs to be established. But then we'll get right into it! I've got a LOAD of episodes from the early days of the Clone Wars (so, through seasons 2 and 3), but am low on later seasons. Again, if there's any suggestions, hit me up and let me know what you'd like to see!

Thanks again, everyone! Y'all rock!

~Mary