Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters; they all belong to their respective owners. I only own any characters or plotlines that you do not recognize.
22. Hand-in-Hand
Coruscant, Inner Rim
The orange light of sunset spilled across the temple grounds. Everything seemed to glow in brilliant shades of gold that started to tip towards red; and on any other day, it would have been a beautiful sight to behold. The warmth of Coruscanti sunsets were something to behold. They even rivaled the brilliant colors cast across the Tatooine deserts by its double suns. But now the golden tones felt… ominous. Elara, bathed in that same light, sat before the Great Tree in contemplative silence. Harsh shadows were cast along the courtyard ground, seemingly stretching towards her like long, narrow fingers. From under furrowed brows, she watched as the Uneti tree's leaves caught the light. They almost appeared to glow red, and shivered in an almost imperceptible breeze. It felt like a warning. The air was charged, now, heavy with something overbearing and uncomfortable. It sent shivers along her well covered skin.
Something had changed. Shifted. The Force had been shoved horrifically off-kilter and it turned her stomach. The balance of the Force had been tenuous at best as of late––but now it was disorientingly disproportionate. Even sitting before the Great Tree could fix the feeling. It was unlike anything Elara had ever felt before. She'd felt sharp changes in the Force before, yes; but they'd always been quick and short-lived. This was a sustained feeling. It tingled across her skin, along her bones, and settled around everything like it was there to stay.
"The shift in the Force, sense it, you can," hummed Yoda's familiar voice.
From over her shoulder, Elara cast a glance back at the approaching Jedi Master. He moved towards her with slow, steady steps, and the clack of his cane echoed across the courtyard. She nodded and rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. A wince pulled across her face at the ache in her muscles, at the stretching of bruised flesh. Bacta treatments had healed cuts and abrasions, but the bruising would be healing on its own.
"I can," she agreed. "Everything feels… unbalanced, not that it was particularly balanced in the first place. But now it feels more skewed, more… volatile."
With a hum, Yoda came to a stop beside her. He then sat down beside her, grunting quietly as he lowered himself down with his cane. Together, they quietly observed the Great Tree. Its leaves continued to tremble, and the pale bark had taken on a pale red hue in the dying light.
"Begun, the Clone Wars have," Yoda informed solemnly.
Elara nodded silently. "I don't know what I expected the start of war to feel like. I… had expected a progression, perhaps; but war is not graceful, it's not smooth. I have come to realize that it is born out of the great, sudden shattering of peace and expectation. Dooku warned me that this time of unrest was rapidly approaching… I didn't believe him. And here we are, on the eve of it. The start of it."
"Troubling times are ahead, trying times. They will seek to test you in every way possible, test your all of your training," Yoda warned sagely.
"You have taught me well," Elara commended. But she couldn't help the way her fingers tightened over her knees. Because for all of her training, she'd still been thoroughly thrashed by Dooku. He was powerful, more so than anyone she'd ever come up against; so it was no wonder she had been so completely destroyed. But some nagging part of herself was disappointed in her performance. And if that was only a taste of what was to come––what would she be like in the throngs of war?
"Powerful Dooku has become, very powerful… to the ways of the Sith he has turned. The forces of which not many Jedi have had to come to face; and held your own against him, you did. Ashamed you should not be of what transpired on Geonosis. Ready, you are, for what lies ahead," Yoda gently encouraged.
Elara turned her attention down to Yoda, who met her gaze evenly, eyes gently expectant. Words tripped to the tip of her tongue before she could think of what they were; unfiltered thoughts flowed to her lips, her mind begging her to speak them.
"What if I'm not?" she asked. "I can only imagine what forces we'll be made to come up against. If Dooku thrashed me so thoroughly… perhaps I'm not ready."
She watched Yoda press his lips together, the wrinkles on his forehead deepen. His hands folded and dropped to rest atop the cane that sat across his lap. It would never cease to amaze Elara just how enrapturing this Jedi Master could be, even when he said nothing. He radiated wisdom. Knowledge. And in her years of training with him, she had come to find that, sometimes, his silence spoke more than anything he could say. But this was not one of those instances––for he started to speak.
"Humble and able to acknowledge your failures, you are. Well these traits will serve you. But a failure your actions on Geonosis were not. Many good things I have heard of what you did in the arena. Many good things… need many good Jedi Knights, we will, in the times to come. Jedi who we know will protect the galaxy as needed. Who will make decisions, no matter how difficult," he told her. He inclined his head to her then. "Pleased, I am, with your training. Far you have come from the child whom I started to teach." Elara felt her brows begin to furrow again. Yoda was not one to dole out compliments easily, be they direct or veiled. There was something buzzing beneath what he was saying, a gleam in his eyes. "Discuss with the Council, I will, your readiness to take the Trials."
The announcement sent a shock through Elara's body. The feeling was electric, consisting of both surprise and honor. To be quite frank, she hadn't ever thought of when she'd take the trials. Everything about her training had been so long that some part of her figured she'd be a perpetual padawan. That would be the state and title under which she would operate. She had been the oldest youngling there ever was, and now she figured she was also the oldest padawan at thirty standard years of age. The fact that Yoda, who had been so apprehensive of allowing her to train, now believed her ready was an honor. A staggering honor. And, yet––she didn't feel as though she had earned it.
"I… still have so much to learn," Elara said hushedly.
Yoda nodded that slow, sage-like nod. "Yes. You do. But no more from me can you learn. Constitute the end of learning the role of Jedi Knight does not. Continue to learn you will; but through your own guidance and experiences. Needed, you are. Fight the Clone Wars we cannot without Jedi like you."
For a moment, both Master and Padawan were quiet. They maintained eye-contact but said nothing. A well of emotion started to rise up in Elara's stomach. This was the being that, for ten years, had guided her along the path of her new life. They had shared laughter, he'd taught her difficult lessons, and she had listened. Should the Council agree to Yoda's decision, her life would change yet again. She would be expected to shoulder more responsibility. Take point on missions––war missions. This was a turning point, for both herself and the galaxy. Despite the imbalance in the Force, she was perfectly in sync with what was happening around her.
And with that, Elara bowed her head.
"Thank you, Master."
Yoda hummed again, and slowly returned his attention to the Great Tree. "A great Jedi you will be, yes… but forever vigilant you must be, especially when matters of the heart it comes to."
"Yes, Master," she murmured.
It was the second time in only a handful of days that he'd doled out such a warning. And, like, last time, Elara felt her heart seize at it. Because it meant that he knew something. Of course he did, she'd have to be an idiot to assume otherwise. He knew enough to be warning her, yet trusted her enough to still allow her to go forth without his guidance. Yoda was lending her his trust. And yet, the idea of love retained the same intoxicating pull; much in the same way a candy looked tempting when a child's mother said not to take it. It was something forbidden to her––but it's promises were oh-so sweet.
OOOO
Elara sat at the foot of her bed, hands hung limply between her knees. She watched the nightly thrum of traffic beyond her window. Speeder lights glittered and blurred, and the glow of windows died out one-by-one as it got later. Her eyes burned for want of sleep. But it had become something that she feared. Not once before in her life had she ever feared falling asleep. But now it seemed perilous. She didn't know what waited for her when she closed her eyes––stilted, cloudy premonitions? Forewarnings of a pain filled future? Beyond that worry, guilt gnawed at Elara and kept her awake. Guilt that for weeks she had listened to the cries of her mother and her brother. Woke up to the taste of blood in her mouth, a subsiding heartache, and a tight chest. She wondered that, if she had been able to decipher those dreams, could she have saved Shmi? Spared Anakin the pain of watching her die? Questions spiralled and knocked around inside of her head restlessly, constantly. Queries about her mother, the Clone Wars, her impending undertaking of the trials. Anything and everything kept her eyes open and her head spinning.
It was there she sat, at the foot of her bed, caught in a state of limbo––unable to obtain sleep, not wanting it, but desperately craving it, needing it. Her body required it. It ached from how tense her lack of rest had made her muscles. It had been several days since the Battle of Geonosis, and Elara had only obtained some nine hours of sleep. The sleep-deprived bluish bruising under her eyes complimented the blotches of yellow and green skin obtained in battle. She would wake up with a harsh intake of breath, mind and heart racing; half the time she startled herself out of sleep. There were no premonitions or thoughts or memories––just the sharp realization that she was about to drift off. That that evening was no different. No sooner had sleep presented itself as an option, did Elara sit on the edge of her bed and content to watch the nighttime traffic instead.
There was a quiet chime, gentle in its tone and resonance. Someone was at the door. Elara glanced over her shoulder at the door and started at it for a moment. For the life of her, she couldn't pin-point who it could be. The natural first thought would be Anakin––but he had undertaken escorting Padmé back to Naboo, and was still off-planet. With a grunt at the ache in her legs, Elara rose to her feet and shuffled towards the door. Tired fingers pressed a button beside the door, which then hissed open. Light spilled in from the corridor, and had her screwed her eyes shut at the sudden onslaught. But when they blinked open, she found that light broken up by and glowing around the form of Obi-Wan.
"Elara," he greeted with a gentle incline of his head. In her near-delirious state, she couldn't help but think he had no right looking so handsome so late at night. His hair was still perfectly pushed back, tunics and tabards and belts perfectly in place. Eyes still devastatingly blue. With those heart-aching thoughts crashing up against her carefully built walls, Elara nodded to him.
"Hi," she croaked sleepily.
At the sound of her voice, Obi-Wan's handsome brow furrowed, and his lips puckered in what might have been worry. "I hope I didn't wake you," he said. His eyes darted from the darkness of her room to her torso.
And it was then that Elara suddenly remembered her state of dress. A pair of loose linen pants, and her under-tunic. The ties of said shirt had loosened in her restlessness, which caused the fabric to slouch open a little wider, which exposed more of her neck and chest than usual. She reached up to tug the collar a little more closed, and realized that Obi-Wan's eyes seemed to have lingered a little long on her décolletage. His eyes darted up to hers and he seemed to swallow thickly.
"Sleep hasn't found me easily as of late. You have nothing to fear," Elara assured. She delicately vaulted her brows. "What brings you to my door so late?"
Obi-Wan cleared his throat and reached up to smooth a hand over his beard. "I hope this isn't too forward…" he started, and Elara felt a breath catch in her throat, "but I sensed that you could use some company."
It was all that Elara could do to stare at him. He quirked his brows in silent inquiry, and the corner of his mouth lifted just slightly. Just as wordlessly, she stepped aside and gestured for him to enter the room. As he passed through the door, Elara tapped a button to close the door behind him and engage the lights.
"I apologize if my… troubles disturbed you on the other side of the Temple," she grimaced. Her hands found the ties on her tunic and tugged them tighter, drawing the fabric more snugly against her body. Perhaps her exhaustion had caused her carefully formulated barriers to slip. It had been years since such a thing had happened; and that would mean a stroke of heavy embarrassment on her end if that was the case.
But Obi-Wan shook his head, his back to her as he moved to the window. "There was no disturbance, I assure you. Just… a feeling." He turned to look at her from over his shoulder. Their gazes caught on each other, and lingered for a moment too long. There was a weight in that shared look, one yet without a name. He then turned away from the window and seated himself familiarly on the edge of her bed. "You mentioned troubles." He schooled his expression in such a way to convey that he was open to listening.
A moment of genuine hesitation washed over Elara. Obi-Wan was someone she was usually quite open with, but this, what she was burdened with now… it was so deeply personal. The issues were huddled right up against her heart. The roots of them had dug themselves in what felt like every fiber of her being. These were things she would have struggled to even tell Anakin, things she would have likely tried to deal with quietly and by herself. But an ache in her chest, sorrowful and relenting, burst to life––one that told her this was something that she couldn't deal with this alone. Not this time.
"It's as I've said––I haven't been able to sleep," she admitted quietly.
"After what you've endured, I'd have thought it would find you easily."
"You would think. Unfortunately, I can't find a way to find peace." Elara folded her arms over her chest and slowly made her way to the window. A hand rose to rub at her eyes, pinch at the bridge of her nose.
"What's preventing you from finding it? Do you know?" he asked. His tone was gentle but prodding, urging her carefully forward. It must have been clear that this was a subject that she did not know how to breach properly. That she would rather dance around than dive right into. Obi-Wan was trying to help her find the right way in.
To answer his question, Elara nodded. She pushed a hand through her hair, which pulled through her fingers in short, tangled waves. Quiet settled across the room. She waited for Obi-Wan to ask another question, carefully nudge the conversation on. But he didn't. At least, not verbally––his silence was the question. It was multiple questions. One of which being 'do you want to tell me?' With eyes rolling towards the ceiling, Elara smiled at herself ruefully.
"I'm scared," she admitted hushedly. She rubbed at her own arms like she was cold, even though the room was not particularly chilly. The admission made her feel naked. Exposed. Of all the times in her life she had been scared, she'd not admitted it. It was usually for Anakin's benefit; she wanted to seem strong for him. But this was different. It was a kind of fear that threatened to smother.
"What are you scared of?" Obi-Wan asked, voice impossibly soft.
"Everything, it feels like." Elara turned to look at him, arms folded tightly––protectively––around herself. She watched Obi-Wan's eyes crinkle curiously, his head list to the side. "I feel as though I'm about to tip over the edge of a precipice. The life I have grown used to no longer exists. It has been… obliterated in a mere handful of days. The death of my mother, the start of a war, a potential admission into Jedi Knighthood… It's as though I'm tumbling into a dark pit, the bottom of which I cannot see. And it scares me to death."
The admission was followed by a heavy silence. The air itself felt thicker, as though the spoken words had lent it a heaviness. And, for a moment, both Elara and Obi-Wan existed in that quietude. All they shared was a prolonged look, gazes locked with an almost dangerous intimacy. Most of her defenses were down. She'd willingly dropped them for him, to allow him to see her pain and her struggle. Of all the people at the Temple, Obi-Wan was one of the few that had known her since the very beginning. Who had witnessed the whole of her journey; and that had bred an implicit kind of trust. And Elara was letting him see that, now. And his acknowledgement of that came in the look of heartache that washed over Obi-Wan's face.
"The future is vastly uncertain," he agreed. It was then that his brows lifted, which softened his expression into something gentler. "But you have the strength, knowledge, and skillset to navigate that uncertainty."
A smile flashed across Elara's face––appreciative but brief. "I feel as though I'm not ready. For the war, for…" she cut herself off and her mouth twisted into a deprecating grimace.
On the foot of her bed, Obi-Wan straightened. His shoulders squared, his chin lifted, his back lengthened. "You don't believe you're ready to become a Jedi Knight."
Elara hummed a non-committal sound. "I know that I have learned much, and that my intake of such knowledge was more… rapid than typical. I have taken ownership of what I have been taught. I've done good work. I just… never believed I would see the day that I would become more than a padawan."
Understanding seemed to wash over Obi-Wan's face.
"It isn't that you believe that you're not ready––you don't believe that you're deserving."
The moment the words were spoken, Elara let out an exhausted sigh. She sank down to sit on her meditation dias, head dropping into her hands. There was an aching tug in her chest, a plummeting feeling that dropped to her stomach. What Obi-Wan had deciphered was something that even she'd had difficulty putting words to. Sometimes it took an outside eye to see what was really going on.
"I haven't felt deserving of much in my life…" Elara looked up and, after a moment, offered a melancholic smile. "When Qui-Gon swept Ani and I off Tatooine… it was a dream come true for the both of us. We were going to have a purpose. One beyond polishing scrap metal. And then we came here, and we started our training… it felt like I was living in my wildest dream. Have you ever felt that? Felt that you were living in a dream?" It was a genuine inquiry, one that she posed to her companion in the softest of voices. She watched Obi-Wan shake his head. His eyes were trained on her, and he sat silently enraptured as she spoke. "It is the sweetest cruelty when you believe you don't deserve it. There are days when I wake up in this room, in that bed… and I believe there is no better place for me to be than my cramped quarters in Mos Espa. But that isn't true, especially now. It's just… so hard to believe I am deserving of something so grand… me, a slave girl from Tatooine… a Jedi Knight…" Elara shook her head.
"You are deserving," Obi-Wan said. Elara cast him a weathered, tired look and he shot one––firm and stern––back. "You are. You, a woman from Tatooine who was dealt a bad starting hand. You are, perhaps, one of those that is most deserving of this. The tireless work you have put into your training, when everyone believed it was not possible. When even I thought it wasn't possible… you proved us wrong; and I have never been happier to be proved wrong."
He smiled at her then, a kind of smile that Elara wasn't sure she'd ever seen him deliver to anyone. It felt affectionate. It crinkled the corners of his eyes, and though his lips did not part to show his teeth, it was certainly wholehearted. It had enough warmth to pleasantly melt some of the anxiety that had found itself a home in her chest. It left her feeling cared for. It reminded her that there were things in life she didn't have to face alone; and that this was one of them. The corners of her mouth rose to lighten her expression into the most light-hearted look it had taken on in days.
"Me, proving the great Obi-Wan Kenobi wrong?" Elara huffed a little laugh, and Obi-Wan's smile started to widen. "What a rarity. I shall have to savor the moment."
The aforementioned Jedi Knight offered a cheeky look and a chuckle. "As well you should." He then cast a look back at the bed he was sat upon. When he looked back to her, his face had crumpled in contemplative curiosity. "Have you tried meditation?"
The smile that had been played across Elara's face began to wane. They'd arrived back at the root of the issue, and it embittered the short-lived playful turn of conversation.
"Yes. But, as of late, I've found it difficult to clear my mind. Meditating on any one of the issues I've mentioned only dredges up something else. If anything, it's proved to make things worse," she admitted.
It was then that Elara witnessed Obi-Wan do something truly peculiar. Without so much as a word, he rose to his feet, turned to the bed, and started to fix it. The sheets had been rumpled from all her tossing and turning. But with deft fingers, he tugged at them as though it were his own bed he was fixing. Each little pull smoothed them out, dragged them into what they were supposed to look like. With her expression pinched, she just sat there and watched him make her bed. And when he was done, when it looked perfectly presentable, Obi-Wan turned to face her and gestured to it.
"Sit," he instructed pleasantly.
"Pardon?"
"I'd like to help you, but it would be best if you sat here."
Elara blinked at him, dumbly almost, before she stood from the dias. Silently, she moved to the opposite side of the bed and gingerly sat down on the edge of it. When she scooted herself back, she did so with a careful precision. There was almost a self-consciousness to the way she moved. She was very aware that Obi-Wan was stood behind her. It wasn't till that moment that Elara realized how personal it felt to be watched while climbing into bed. She was conscious, now, of the way the sheets twisted under her fingers, or the slight little huff she made when she pushed herself into the middle of the bed. Once she was settled in the center of the bed with her back facing the pillows, she turned an inquiring expression on her companion.
Obi-Wan nodded and climbed onto the bed, much to Elara's genuine surprise. She watched, with wide eyes, as he situated himself directly in front of her. They both sat with their legs folded, so close that their knees touched. The expression on his face was the epitome of serene; there was a calmness in his eyes that was intoxicating. Once again, their gazes were hopelessly locked.
"Give me your hands," Obi-Wan almost whispered.
Without tearing her eyes away, Elara reached out her hands, palms down. They gently glided downwards till her palms kissed his own. Warmth sparked in the non-existent space between their skin. It surged through her body, like it had those two occasions before. And just like last time, Obi-Wan's lips parted in a silent acknowledgement that he had felt it, too. The atmosphere of the room shifted suddenly. It was more intimate. They'd shared the same sleeping pallet before, slept side-by-side while wearing the most basic of under clothing. And yet this felt more intimate than even that. For whatever reason, Elara had never felt so exposed before. But she didn't feel uncomfortable, not in the least. It left her body buzzing with warmth. It had her fingers curling a fraction tighter, just as Obi-Wan's did the same. It was the feeling of an undeniable, intoxicating connection.
Simultaneously, both Elara and Obi-Wan inhaled and allowed their eyes to fall closed. A blissful quiet wrapped around them like a blanket. The only sound that Elara found herself acknowledging with that of Obi-Wan's breathing. On pure instinct, she matched the pattern of his breaths, which slowly slowed the anxious patter of her heart. The warmth between their hands had grown to a point where it felt like it was tingling. They sat there, silently, for what could have been hours. They shared one another's breath and space as they mediated together. Shared meditation was something that Elara had never done before. It had always seemed so personal; when a Jedi meditated, they allowed their barriers to drop, and the Force to flow in. To share that moment with someone conveyed insurmountable trust––and she could feel that flowing between herself and Obi-Wan.
Then, an undisputed feeling of calm washed over Elara in an overwhelming, but relieving, rush. It had felt like it was a wave that had rolled off of Obi-Wan and crashed over her. The feeling, which she had not felt for days, penetrated and eradicated all of her anxiety. Every bit of tension in her body disappeared, and left it slumping in sweet relief. And in the wake of that, exhaustion settled into Elara's every limb. It weighed them down, inspired the feeling of a yawn at the back of her throat; and just as her mouth opened to let it out, she tumbled straight into a deep sleep.
On instinct, Obi-Wan's hands shot forward to take hold of Elara's arms. He opened his eyes to find that she had slumped forward, and he'd just prevented her from falling into his lap. But she'd tipped towards him enough that her head now rested against his chest. All of the tension that he'd seen in her body was gone. There was no more rigidity squaring her shoulders or straining the tendons in her neck. Instead, she now existed in a state of pure relaxation. With the utmost care, Obi-Wan slid one hand up to the back of her head. The touch was feather-light, for fear of waking her up. He leaned forward, legs shifting beneath him, so he could lower Elara to the mattress. Once she was laid down, Obi-Wan carefully snuck his hand out from between her head and a pillow. Her hair, though tangled from sleepless tossing, shifted softly across his skin. He maneuvered himself to sit on the edge of the bed, and allowed himself to stay a moment longer. He wanted to ensure that she would rest easy.
Obi-Wan had been across the Temple when he'd felt it––a pull in his gut that warned that something was wrong. And a tug in his heart that had him moving towards Elara's quarters before the conscious thought had appeared in his head. It had been something akin to the feeling of a Force disturbance; but it felt markedly more personal. Something that didn't resonate through the whole of the Force, but something that had traveled just to him. And when he'd arrived at her door, saw how ragged she appeared, he knew he'd interpreted the feeling right. Elara was in need of company––of assistance––and he would be there to provide it. Because something deeply burrowed in his chest said that, not only did he want to be there for her, he was supposed to be.
Elara had mentioned that it had felt like she was standing at the edge of a precipice, teetering dangerously; and Obi-Wan felt the same. Not only was the galaxy starting its slow descent into wartime, but he was slowly tipping into something equally as dangerous. The warm glow of affection threatened to drown him now, even more so than a few days prior. Something about watching the life nearly drain out of her face had snapped something. Sparked something within him. An impossible need to be near her. Ensure she was alright. It was what had driven him to share a moment of meditation with her. To allow her to use whatever energy he put out into the Force for her benefit, even if she hadn't really known that's what was happening. It had brought Obi-Wan immense relief upon feeling her energy relax. She deserved to rest easy, just as she deserved everything she believed she didn't.
Silently, he rose to his feet, making sure not to jostle the bed as he did so. As he rose, Elara rolled towards him, curling in on herself comfortably. Hair slipped across her face, tickling her nose as it went. Upon pure instinct, Obi-Wan stretched a hand out, but stopped when his fingertips were mere centimeters away from her face. He could feel himself dangerously toeing the edge of that precipice. Not once had he allowed himself to luxuriate in this feeling of affection. It existed only in the simplest touches, and glances, short lived by necessity. But there was a sudden swelling in his chest, a harsh thump of his chest that sent him toppling over the edge.
Obi-Wan let his fingers make contact with Elara's cheek. With the softest of touches, he swept the hair off her face, and tucked it behind her ear. It was there that those same fingers gently caught beneath her thin padawan braid. He drew it over her shoulder with the most caring of touches, knowing what a pain it was to have such a long braid catch on something in one's sleep. With the faintest of up-ticks to the corner of his mouth, Obi-Wan let his hand fall away.
"Rest well, my dear."
Afterword: I apologize for the delay in updating! I've had a… rough couple of weeks, and I couldn't find it in me to do much writing. I was in such a foul spot, I didn't want it to taint the quality of the story. But I finally got myself out of that funk, and was also finally struck with some inspiration for the next chapter or two. Thank you all for being so patient!
This chapter's a little shorter, but the next few might be before we delve into the world of the Clone Wars!
Review Replies!
highwayblues1: I aim to strike a good balance between heart-wrenching and precious; and these are certainly the chapters to be doing that! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
bambam411: I'm glad the last chapter came out when you needed it to! And I'm fairly sure you reviewed when I was having a pretty not-great day, and it brightened it up, so thank you! For as powerful as I believe Elara truly is, I am a firm believer that she, like Ani, still has a lot of room to grow. And learn. So Dooku definitely yeeted her just as he did with Ani. And, y'know… Elara will certainly be bumping into Dooku again… and she'll have had a lot more practical experience. So maybe we'll see some bad-ass take down moves that'll have Dooku shook. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
MsRosePetal: Obi-Wan is a master of keeping his walls up––until something happens to someone that he loves (as we see in canon with Qui-Gon, Satine, and Anakin). So his guard definitely dropped hard when he saw what happened to Elara. And Yoda is making notes… and there's definitely some conversations a-comin'! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Dally'sTUFF: So while I was writing the ending of the last chapter, I noticed that, in a pull-out shot of that final battle scene, you can totally see Padmé go running up to hug Ani. So I was like 'y'know, everyone's gotta be sucked into their own little worlds if they don't notice that.' So we got to have both Skywalkers, stupidly in love, not really noticing the other's situation––comedy at it's finest! Yoda will certainly be giving one (or both) parties a talking to… but he knows how to pick the right time to do so. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Amelia831: Oh, Yoda definitely knows. He's already had a brief chat with Elara about love before… but he seems to handle a lot of big issues with masterful subtlety. He picks and chooses his moments. And with the Clone Wars about to kick into gear, and with Obi-Wan and Elara really coming into their feelings… he's gonna find the right moment to bring it up. I'm still toying how/when Anakin comes to the realization that there's something between his sister and his former master/father-figure. It'd certainly be ammunition any time Obi starts lecturing him about attachments. And, yes, do pray for Elara's soul in the Clone Wars––she, like everyone else, is gonna go through the ringer. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
MotherAiya: Oh, Yoda so totally knows. He's known there's something there since chapter 13. But I feel like he picks and chooses his moments to address things. He knows there's a right time to bring something up, and a wrong time. And, so far, he's only doled out gentle warnings and lessons about love. But there will come a time when shit gets more serious. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
msbeku1: I'm a ho for parallels (as you well know from my JW story). I especially love a parallel when it dredges up important feelings, such as Obi-Wan freaking out when he realizes he might have to watch Elara die just as Qui-Gon did. I do intend to work on writing from Obi's POV more often, so we'll get to find out how much her almost-death sticks with him.
I'm also wanting to touch more on Elara's strength, be it in the Force or otherwise. Because she is very strong with the Force, she just hasn't had many chances to let that strength shine. She's been a padawan for ten years; with the war about to be in full swing, there's gonna be plenty of opportunity for herself, and others, to realize how strong she really is.
The Obi-Lara tension builds exponentially… and the breaking point is going to be… so worth it. And Yoda's gonna be there… watching… taking note… getting ready to spring out and have a word with our favorite pair. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again! Take care out there!
PrettyRecklessLaura: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
DCDGojira: Elara is more than happy to dole out embarrassing stories about Ani to anyone who wants them (that she trusts). Such is the nature of an older sibling! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again! Also, congrats to your cousin and his fiancée!
omy: I'm very, very happy that you've been enjoying the story! I was in the same boat as you before I started this story––I found it hard to find a really good Obi-Wan story (mostly 'cause I think it's just hard to keep him in character for romance stories). So I've dedicated a lot of time for character analysis for the canon characters, to make sure that I keep them in character! Star Wars is very dear to me, so I'd be upset with myself if I didn't take care with the canon characters.
I've had a lot of fun defining Elara and Anakin's relationship, and figuring out how it grows. Because as much as they get along as siblings, they're going to have their differences and contentions (which we'll see more of come the Clone Wars). I've got a lot of stuff planned for them, both fun and painful, so I'm excited that you're excited to see where it goes!
The romance between Obi-Wan and Elara is something that I'm so nit-picky about writing, because I want it to come across as natural. Especially for them, because they're taught that being romantic is a no-no. The conflict of their being in love/in a relationship is going to be a constant, even when it comes to a culmination. They're both so dedicated to their Jedi paths, that it's not something they'll just stop worrying about.
And I'm so happy I'm writing Obi-Wan truthfully! I've just graduated with a degree in theatre performance, so I've spent ages analyzing mannerisms (physical and vocal), and expressions; and it's something that's come in handy quite a bit for this story!
Thank you so much for your lovely review! Don't apologize for length, I love getting to read and respond to longer reviews. Getting to discuss this stuff makes me happy! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Shadow Wolf 15846: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
AllAboutThoseMyths: I'm so happy that you enjoyed the story enough to binge it! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, too; thanks again!
And thank you to those that added this to their follows/favorites; it means a lot!
So, I predict there'll be, maybe… a chapter and a half before we delve into the Clone Wars series. There's just some pre-CW stuff that I need to get established before moving forward. And then… we dive right into the Clone Wars and all the emotional hurt it'll deal us. As always, still open to CW story arc/episode suggestions, 'cause there's so much, and while I have a very organized, color-coded list of what I want to do, there's still more I can put on there. Again, thank you all for being so patient!
~Mary