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.
51. Caged Hearts
Coruscant, Core Worlds
Dex's Diner, located in the middle of a bustling street in CoCo Town, had become something of a hotspot for clone troopers. Many of them cited there was no better place to grab a quick, filling meal before heading out on a mission. It was where they came to get what could very well be their last good meal for weeks, or perhaps their last good meal ever. When they had the time, troopers would pile into booths and guffaw over jokes and stories with their brothers. It was a place to celebrate triumphs, relax after weeks off world, and to let go of the militaristic standards they were so strictly held to. But it also wasn't uncommon to see troopers trudge in with drawn expressions. To watch them slump over to the counter, order some caf, and sit and stare at it as it cooled. For while the diner had become a place of bright celebration, it had also become a place of somber mourning. A spot for exhausted troopers to catch a quiet moment in the morning, a place to rebuild their energy after it had been sapped away whilst deployed. All in all, Dex's welcoming atmosphere had caused the diner to become a refuge for many who sought it.
And one such person who happened to seek it was none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi.
He cut a tragically elegant picture, back-lit by Coruscant's afternoon sun, all gently hunched lines and delicately poised limbs. Obi-Wan sat half-slouched over the table of the middle booth, an elbow propped up atop it. His hand was clasped over his forehead and right eye, a gesture that, while distressed, also came off as shockingly dignified. The other hand rested limply beside a mug of caf. It was rare that he ever drank it; he much preferred tea. Caf was saved for endless, sleepless nights on battlefields, where they only had access to the bland, instant stuff in their ration packs. But, still, the caf sat before him, and had been sitting there so long that only a few wafts of steam still rose off its surface. Hair had slouched to hang over his forehead and his hand, and it glowed gold in the warmth of the sunlight. It was plainly obvious that the Jedi Master was not at all feeling well. And that was enough for most everyone in the diner to leave him well enough alone.
And for that, Obi-Wan was appreciative. Once FLO, the WA-7 waitress droid, had slid him his caf––with a 'there ya go, dear' that somehow sounded pitying––no one had come to bother him. Not to refresh his lukewarm beverage. Not to ask if everything was okay. Not even the clone troopers who'd come in had proffered a greeting of 'General.' The truth of the matter was that Obi-Wan was feeling rather awful. Sleep hadn't been coming to him easily. In fact, it seemed to be purposefully avoiding him. No matter what he did to exhaust himself––be it reading mission reports, assisting in youngling training, or practicing his Soresu form until his limbs ached––it slipped from his grasp. Stars was it frustrating. He couldn't count the times in the past week that he'd been just on the verge of sleep, balanced on that blissful precipice, waiting for the comforting fall––only to be rudely awoken by his thoughts. Intrusive, unignorable thoughts of things both troubling and beautiful. They had him staying up till all hours thinking himself into a tizzy. Had him drifting off in strategy meetings, caught up in his own head and his own exhaustion. It left him needing the boost of caf over the calming aspects of tea. And it was those thoughts that currently plagued him, that had him clutching at his own head in the hopes to stave them off.
Alas, the press of his hand did nothing to block the throng thoughts.
Those thoughts were all centered around one person: Elara Skywalker. How could they not? Obi-Wan had hoped that in rejecting the mission to Gleann, it would allow him a chance––a calm chance––to think over all that had happened. To think over what Yoda had told him, to ponder old lessons Qui-Gon had given. He wouldn't have to cautiously take corners in the Temple for fear of running right into her. There was no possibility of accidentally catching her line of sight in strategy or Council meetings. No chance of there being any sort of igniting spark of any kind, good or bad. Everything should have been fine, but it wasn't. Obi-Wan could have sworn that he had felt the minute Elara had left Coruscant's atmosphere; and in that moment, everything became different. It felt like the ground beneath his feet was uneven. Like the air was a little colder. A hollow, almost nauseating, empty pit had formed deep in his stomach, where that damning pull usually originated from. All-in-all, it felt like something important was missing… and that important thing was her.
Which left Obi-Wan in his hours both waking and restful, thinking about everything all at once. He'd think of the kiss on Ryloth––how, despite the heightened emotion of it all, how pleasant it was. The memory of the soft warmth of her lips against his positively burned across his mouth, like it had happened only moments ago. He'd shiver at remembering how her hands had clutched and pulled at the front of his tunic, and how some part of him had wanted her to pull at them harder, twist the fabric around her fingers. But, at the same time, Obi-Wan would wince at what had happened in the hangar, and how unpleasant it had been. His heart would throb weakly at the look of heartbreak that ripped its way across Elara's face. At how cold her expression had become before she left; how the word 'exemplary' had been spat back in his face as though it were an insult…
He was unsure if he'd ever use the word again.
And on top of all that, Obi-Wan had his discussion with Yoda to endlessly ponder, too. This he usually relegated to thinking of during his waking hours. It was what turned through his head as he strolled to the courtyard for morning meditation, or turned over and over and over as he took tea in his room. For there was something in what Yoda had said that offered a potential solution. But, as it always was with him, it was disguised in––almost infuriating––subtlety and phrasing that border-lined on riddle-hood. Obi-Wan felt as though it lied in the matra of 'emotion, yet peace.' But even such a simple phrase required him to dig deep to find its true meaning. It wasn't as easy as one might think it would be. For both emotion and peace were terribly complex; and to have to untangle those complexities on your own was a headache in itself.
It was also impossible not to recall the ancient Master's warning: And if lose her, you do, irreparable, you will be. You, too, will be lost. And Obi-Wan' couldn't help but wonder… is this what 'lost' felt like? To simultaneously feel directionless and pulled every which way? Because if it was, then it meant the worst had happened; it meant that he'd lost her. That the ramifications had sent him spiralling as though struck by a rushing speeder. He sincerely hoped that this wasn't the case. Obi-Wan hoped that this wasn't what 'lost' felt like, and that this was just him trying to grapple with the attempt to reframe his thinking. For while he pondered Yoda's all but cryptic advice, he'd also begun to meditate on old lessons Qui-Gon had taught him. Tried to dredge up memories where his late Master would calmly bicker with the Council over matters of attachment and emotion, things that, as a young Padawan, he had rolled his eyes at. Things that he'd sighed impatiently at and questioned 'why didn't Qui-Gon just listen to the Council?' Now, more than ever, perhaps… Obi-Wan wished that he was still here. He wished that he could still speak with him, ask him truly in-depth questions that weren't smothered by inexperience and gall.
Because it felt as though Qui-Gon had known something in those last days of his life. For in his ruminations about his Master, Obi-Wan recalled the sly looks and the tilting smiles every time it was mentioned that the Padawan had leant Elara his robe for warmth. Or every time he caught them alone with one another. It was almost as though he could predict where they'd be eleven years from that moment… and it made Obi-Wan all the more melancholy that Qui-Gon was not there to speak to.
Life had not been particularly kind to Obi-Wan Kenobi as of late––and, apparently, it must have shown.
"You, my friend, look like you've got the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders!" proclaimed the deep, boisterous voice of none other than Dex Jettster.
Obi-Wan's eyes flicked open, and immediately fell on the empty seat across from him. He had become so used to it being filled. By Cody, by Anakin… by Elara… But today it was empty. Sunlight spilled across the red duravinyl covered bench, its lack of occupant a haunting tease. With a particular hard, lonely throb of his heart, Obi-Wan lifted his head from his hand and turned to look at his old friend. Dex, a large, boisterous Besalisk man, stood at the end of the table with all four of his arms braced on his hips or waist. His mouth had curved into a half-smile, both friendly and cautious. Obi-Wan tried for a smile, but it was small and tentative at best.
"Hello, Dex," there was a lightness to his tone, but it lacked the typical brightness that usually lived in such a greeting. He tried to widen his smile a little, but it refused to be moved. "It's good to see you."
Dex chuckled gruffly, shoulders bouncing. He shuffled forward and sideways, wedging himself into the booth opposite his Jedi friend. With the slight fwump-ing sound of poofing duravinyl, Dex plopped down onto the seat with a noisy exhale. "I'd say the same, but I don't know if I like the look on your grumpy face!" The chuckle that followed was good natured and friendly; and Obi-wan again tried to smile, but again couldn't manage to widen it much. Dex's small eyes narrowed a little in contemplation, and a significantly more somber look overcame his face. He reached out and grabbed the cup of cooling caf in his massive hand, and pushed it towards the edge of the table. He waved down a human woman with well-styled blonde hair. She was the diner's second––and only human––waitress. "Hermione, let's get a fresh cup of caf for our Jedi friend."
Hermione nodded, scooped up the cup, and placed it on a tray braced against her hip. "'Course, Dex. Be right back with it." As she stepped away, a quick, side-long, pitying glance was thrown Obi-Wan's way.
The look at his shoulders slumping all the more, and both his hands rose to press against his face. The baggier sleeves of his outer tunic slouched down to his elbows, which in turn revealed the darker, tighter-fitting sleeves of his under tunic.
"Mission gone wrong?" Dex hypothesized.
His hands moved, one dropping to the table, and the other first sweeping through his hair before smoothing over his beard. "Thankfully no."
"Then what's got your face all wrinkled? Not often that you come in here looking like a bantha spit in your tea."
A tired sigh pulled from Obi-Wan's mouth, and he shook his head.
"I fear, my old friend, it is far too complicated to explain over a cup of caf," he said. As though summoned by the word, Hermione swept back by the table and deposited a new, steaming cup of the stuff in front of him. He inclined his head to her softly. "Thank you."
Hermione smiled at him and continued on her way, and Dex slapped his lower right hand on the table, and then gestured to the counter with his upper right hand.
"Well, it's a good thing we've got lots of caf brewin'!" Dex then braced his lower forearm on the table, and jerked his head towards the front door. "Are any of your friends joinin'? Should I get stuff ready for 'em? Last time that kid Anakin was in, he drank a whole pot of caf, and his little friend, the Togruta girl, didn't even touch it."
With a shake of his head, Obi-Wan dismissed the idea. "I'm afraid he won't be joining me today."
"How about his sister? I can get some tea brewing for her; 's'not the best stuff, but she's always insisted that it's perfect. Real nice lady."
There was a harsh throb of Obi-Wan's heart. He quickly cut his eyes away from Dex, and they landed on the empty spot on the seat beside him, the spot bathed in sunlight. It was there that Elara usually sat when they came. On early mornings she would sit there with a mug hugged between her palms, head tilted back, eyes closed as she basked in the warmth of the sunlight. When it was just the two of them, Obi-Wan would avail himself of the moment and allow himself to admire her. How at peace she seemed, how the sunlight brightened the color of her hair. She'd talk like that sometimes, too, with her eyes closed and her voice pleasantly raspy with sleep. But it had been weeks––months––since they'd shared such a peaceful moment. Elara had long since been absent from that spot, and the memory of her being there haunted him in that moment.
"No," Obi-Wan said after clearing his throat. "She won't be joining me today, either." He lifted the cup of caf to his lips and took a sip. The liquid scalded the corner of his mouth, which then twisted in a flinched response.
Briefly, there was quiet. And then––rather unexpectedly––Dex laughed. Obi-Wan stared at him, eyes wide, with the cup of caf still held to his lips. Dex looked oddly delighted, which was perplexing, seeing as they were discussing Obi-Wan's obvious bad mood. He'd known the former prospector to be a little gruff at times; but never before had he laughed at anyone's misfortunes. The diner proprietor slapped a hand down on the table, which trembled at the heavy impact, and leaned over it. His lips pulled into a wide, toothy grin.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi, you sly nexu. You've got lady problems!" Dex had the good graces to say this in a thrilled, hushed tone, so no one else could hear them.
Despite this, Obi-Wan could feel himself tense sharply. Fingers curled around the handle of his mug so tightly a knuckle popped, shoulders squared, his chin lifted. And though he could not see his own face, he was sure that it was furiously bright pink; for heat had flooded it immediately, and his eyes started to dart around the diner to ensure that no one had caught ear of his friend's proclamation. He placed the cup back down on the table and shuffled closer to the edge of it.
"Dex…" he stressed from between grit teeth.
But, again, Dex laughed, and this time he shook his head in bouncy delight.
"I didn't think you had it in you," he said. And though the comment shouldn't have made something inside Obi-Wan smart, it did. His brows immediately furrowed and his lips pursed, almost as though offended. Dex raised a few of his hands in defense. "You being a Jedi and all. But, who could blame ya? She's a real pretty lady, and most importantly, very sweet. That's a combination we call irresistible."
Obi-Wan's heart climbed up into his throat, where it proceeded to beat erratically, uncomfortably. Because yes, it was an irresistible combination, and he well knew it. And it led him to once more think about Elara sitting opposite him, instinctively stirring in just the right amount of sugar and cream into both of their cups of caf or tea, talking excitedly about one thing or another. The fact that she knew how he took both his caf and his tea had always warmed something within him. It was such a small, inconsequential thing for someone to know… yet she knew it. And she took pride in knowing it, and went out of the way to prepare it even when he very well could. A quiet, almost pained, sound grumbled at the back of Obi-Wan's throat. A hand rose to rub his thumb and second finger over his eyes. He couldn't even drink tea or caf without thinking of her. Of what had happened. What he'd done.
"Dex, you must understand that this situation is impossibly complicated," Obi-Wan sighed. 'Complicated' seemed too simple a word. He wished there was something that better conveyed the complexity of the situation. Some long, rambling word that took half a minute to say, but by the end of it, you'd understand just how mind-boggling everything truly was. Obi-Wan dropped his hand away from his eyes and looked at the former prospector, a drawn look pulled across his face. He swallowed thickly as his throat started to tighten around the throbbing of his heart. "It is not something easily spoken of, given, as you said, that I am a Jedi."
Dex eyed him for a moment, one large hand scratching at his grease and condiment stained white work shirt. With a little huff, he sat forward, lower arms braced atop the tabletop, upper arms braced atop those. When he spoke, it was in a low, hushed tone. So hushed, in fact, it was almost lost in the clattering of dishes from the kitchen.
"Now, I don't pretend to know the rules of the Jedi very well… but I know you all aren't supposed to have…" he waggled his head from side-to-side before a roguish smile briefly flickered across his face, "relations of any sort…"
Immediately, Obi-Wan waved a hand through the air with a sharp dismissiveness.
"A misconception. Jedi are allowed to have… 'relations,' as you say. It happens more often than the public may think, but not as often as some may fantasize. Many Jedi tend to avoid it outright, for it may lead to what is truly forbidden amongst our Order…" the next word sat heavily on his tongue, "attachments." Obi-Wan cleared up.
Dex threw his shoulders into a shrug. "So you've grown attached to her?"
Obi-Wan's lips remained tightly pursed, and the air around him took on an aspect of tension. It felt as though it tightened around him, suppressed any possible words that might wish to come forth. It was almost a threatening sort of sensation. A shallow, smarting sting told him to keep all thoughts about this matter locked up tight. To seal them in his mouth behind lips locked up tight. To banish the thoughts and the ideas associated with it, and replace them with logical responses. Logical excuses. For this was not something that should be spoken of so forthrightly. He couldn't be so brazenly open about these matters; for if he was, it would be devastating. It would tear him asunder, he just knew it. It would absolutely destroy him. It would also be shameful, as a Jedi, to admit any of it. So it was best to keep quiet on the whole thing. Or, at least… that was what that knee-jerk, initial shock told him.
But beneath that surface feeling was something deeper. A longing pull. One that deeply desired to speak of what had happened, because there was no one else––aside from, perhaps, Elara, but that was a situation precarious in its own right––that he could truly speak to about it. There was something in his heart that yearned to pull open and allow all its contents to spill forth. For Obi-Wan had taught himself to bottle these thoughts and emotions away. To sit on them quietly until he could try and meditate them away. Or to shove them down gracelessly, desperately pressing and pushing until they were small enough to ignore. But neither of those practices had worked in this situation. And there was something instinctive telling him that not talking about this, not dealing with it properly, was going to be more devastating than keeping it to himself. That he would find a much needed relief in saying something about it to someone who was not directly involved in the kerfuffle. And yet––if Obi-Wan even thought to say a word about it––as he did in that moment––it choked up in his throat as muscle and tendon moved and tightened around them, halting them in place.
It would seem that a years long habit was impossible to break in a single moment.
"Right," Dex half sighed. Obi-Wan had come to stare at him wide-eyed as he swallowed around the chunk of words bobbing in this throat. Dex's expression had become markedly more serious, though there was still a twinkle in his eyes. "I can see this is a matter of delicacy; lucky for you, I can be delicate, though many might think otherwise!" Here, he chuckled and shook his head at his own words. "You can talk to ol' Dexter, I'm sure not gonna be running off to tell on ya. We can keep things simple. You've got lady problems—you're not supposed to, but you have them. What happened?"
Obi-Wan blinked at him as, again, his throat tightened. As words were constricted and crushed, destroyed and choked back before they could even touch his lips. He considered his old friend, this large Besalisk man who had been nothing but kind and helpful to him over the years. Dex was no Jedi. He was not affiliated with the Order or the Council. He wasn't a politician. He was an unbiased party who would have no reason to tell anyone about anything he might say. Out of everyone on Coruscant, Dex was most certainly the best––if not only––option for this kind of talk. Yet, as his mouth opened, as the sudden, rushed desire to speak rushed towards his mouth––it stopped hard and short at his lips, once more halting against that invisible wall he'd created over the years. He couldn't. He couldn't. Not in the way that he wished to, not in the way that would lift a major burden from his shoulders. But, perhaps, there might be a way to go about it anyways.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat and shuffled in his seat a little, wobbling from side-to-side as he tried to find a comfortable way to sit. Had he been sitting uncomfortably before? Or was this just the situation itching and crawling its way under his skin and through his system? He reached out and turned his mug until he could hug it comfortably between his palms, the handle of it now facing Dex. These were truly meaningless gestures. Obi-Wan was sure he had been sitting comfortably before. The mug didn't need to be between his hands. But all the while, his mouth pressed and pulled and twitched, silently moving around a plethora of different words and phrases. Of ways to initiate a conversation, a way to set the tone of how it should go, of how personal or impersonal they had to be. And eventually, after chewing everything over, he settled on something. He would handle this as though it were a diplomatic situation. Obi-Wan could do diplomacy, that was a comfort zone; and he needed some kind of comfort. Dex did not need to know all the details. Subtlety was the path to tread, the one that would guide him through this conversation.
"It is well known that these sorts of things are not permitted amongst Jedi. Anything more than a tryst is frowned upon, especially if emotion becomes involved. I… became privy to what was happening and I took the logical route. What would be asked of me had I made it known to my colleagues. I made an attempt to prevent anything else from developing. I was frightfully candid with her, Logically… I did what I thought was right. I was frightfully candid with her, one might even say that I was cold… that I was acting selfishly. But I believe that what I did, what I said, may garner the desired effect. But I now fear that it was the wrong approach. That instead of making things better… I have made them irreparable," Obi-Wan said.
He'd spoken measuredly, and it was quite clear that he was picking his words carefully. He spoke with the manner in which someone defusing a bomb might act. With deliberate, careful, intent-laden movements. Each word was meant to disguise and protect the true nature of what had happened. Of how deeply this issue ran, how much it affected him. How this wasn't just 'lady troubles.' It was much, much more. This was conflicted. A war was being waged inside one man, and he was destroying himself over trying to pick which side should win out. It was, as Obi-Wan had warned, complicated; and incredibly difficult to speak about.
Dex's mouth pulled into a long, flat line. With a shake of his head and an accompanying grunt… he almost looked disappointed.
"Matters of the heart aren't logical, Obi-Wan; they're anything but. And trying to deal with them analytically, well… that's gonna lead you down the wrong path entirely. It's gonna take you to a place you don't wanna be, take my word for it," Dex warned.
To say that something inside Obi-Wan's chest withered was an understatement. It felt like his heart had been squeezed. As though it was being wrung out by something trying to see if there was anything left in it. The part of him that had been screaming at him to make amends, to handle the situation with less logic shook its ever loosening bars once more. It thrust its arms between those bars and presented evidence in outstretched palms. Forced Obi-Wan to confront that every time he'd opted for logic in this situation, it had taken a worser turn. That every time he'd given in to the urge to act out of kindness or affection, things had been better. It presented the fact that hearts did not beat and throb and pulse with logic. They swelled with love, ached with sorrow, and fluttered in true happiness. With a strained sigh flowing through flared nostrils, Obi-Wan lifted an elegant hand to his eyes, and pressed his fingers against them.
"I believe I am already there, old friend. On that path. At the end of it, perhaps…"
The admission was hushed, almost brokenly so. Spoken on a rush of breath, almost lost in the noise of clattering dishware and a rise of laughter from a corner booth. His hand dropped away and pulled his gaze back down to his cup of caf. Like his previous cup, it had cooled steadily, and he had only taken a sip. For as much as he needed it to erase his exhaustion, his appetite was, at the moment, nonexistent.
"If you don't want it to be the end of it, it doesn't have to be. But that's up to you, friend. I can't do it for you, no matter how much I'd like to. It's your heart. Listen to it."
A stiff, shaking sigh fled Obi-Wan's nose again. That ever stubborn lock of hair flopped into his eyes, which rose to meet Dex's with a stony aspect to them. "It's been silenced so long, I don't know if I'd recognize the sound of it."
The diner door opened, then, with a quiet chime activated by a motion sensor. The sound drew Dex's attention instinctively, which Obi-Wan didn't take offense to. He may be a friend, but he was also a proprietor, and this was his business. It was very kind of him to have taken a moment to sit with him and pick his brain––and try and pry open his heart––but Obi-Wan would never want to take him away from his work. The Besalisk raised a hand to greet whoever had walked in.
"Afternoon, boys," he greeted. Clone troopers, then.
"Afternoon, Dex, good to see ya." The cadence of this particular trooper's voice was familiar. There was a lightness to it, but one that was held so steadily it could easily be mistaken as being monotonous. A hint of levity and kindness hidden behind a front of professionalism.
It was Ack-Ack.
Before Obi-Wan could twist his head around, three troopers came to a stop at the end of the table. As suspected, all of their armor bore the green markings of the 442nd. The members of the battalion present were Ack-Ack, Fang, and Gunney. Their arrival meant one very obvious thing––the 442nd detachment was back. Which meant that the 501st detachment had returned, too. Obi-Wan, on an exhale, reached out into the Force. He probed around and waded through all the ambient Force signatures in search of two familiar ones. After a moment, he felt them faintly. The first signature was Elara's, smooth and elegant around the edges like the border of a starburst around a bright star in the night sky. The second, Anakin's, was a little more dramatic, staggered at the edges like the outlying burst of a supernova. They had returned, too, then.
Obi-Wan did a once-over of each trooper present, looking for wounds or newly garnered scratches on their armor. Peered at their expressions to see if they were particularly drawn. What Obi-Wan searched for was evidence that something had gone wrong. The reports that had come back from Gleann had been largely positive; but that didn't mean that something hadn't happened last minute, or on their way back to Coruscant.
But the troopers looked completely unscathed––rested, even. A common accessory amongst clone troopers were dark circles under their eyes, evidence of long, sleepless nights and equally stressful days. On these three troopers, those had all but disappeared. They appeared in good health, and even appeared to have returned with new accoutrements. Peeking out from under the edge of Ack-Ack's breastplate, and loosely wrapped around his neck, was what looked to be an ornately woven scarf. Fang's breastplate was now decorated with thin, black lines, painted in traditional Gleannish style; if Obi-Wan wasn't mistaken, they were the marks that traditionally denoted a healer. Gunney's armor had remained untouched, and he didn't appear to be bearing any souvenirs, but the furrow between his eyebrows wasn't as pronounced. All of this led to a singular conclusion: everything had gone well. Everyone was fine.
There was a quietly pleasant look on Ack-Ack's face, lingering from his greeting Dex. A softness to his eyes and a barely perceptible curve to his lips. But that look shifted as his attention swiveled towards Obi-Wan. The line of his mouth straightened, the look in his eyes hardened. He stared the Jedi down along the length of his nose, something in his gaze simultaneously scathingly hot and chillingly cold. It caused an almost electric sensation to crackle across Obi-Wan's skin. Because this was not the way he had looked at Dex. This was not the restful expression that he'd been wearing upon entering the diner. This look was specially reserved for him. There was a jerky jolt of Ack-Ack's chin as he quickly ticked it in a nod. The gesture could barely be called a nod, but it definitely wasn't the deferring incline that the soldier was known to give to superiors.
"General," Ack-Ack greeted tersely. If the nature of his expression hadn't given away that something was wrong, his tone of voice certainly did. It was gruff, almost.
Obi-Wan was quiet a moment and blinked up at him. Something was, quite obviously, wrong. The snapping crackle of displeasure popped around Ack-Ack's form. It was subdued but bubbling, which made it obvious that he was intentionally suppressing it. Obi-Wan could feel feel that displeasure being beamed directly at him. It was him that Ack-Ack was upset with, which he found mildly perplexing. For things between the Jedi Master and the trooper Captain had always been amiable. things between the Jedi Master and the trooper Captain had always been amiable.
The Jedi tried to right himself a little, well aware of how out of sorts he must look. He squared his shoulders, pushed the hair out of his eyes, and inclined his head to the troopers.
"Captain. I'm pleased to see that you've returned. I take it your time on Gleann was pleasant?" Obi-Wan asked. There was a lightness to his voice, the kind he used when extending pleasantries. But it was strained. On top of the exhaustion and the ache in his head, being stared down so intensely was not aiding in his ability to cling to composure.
Again, Ack-Ack nodded sharply. His nostrils had flared and he sucked his cheeks in a little, as though biting them on the inside. "Gleann was most hospitable, yes." A short answer, clipped on the consonants.
"No trouble?" he ventured.
"No trouble," came the confirmation.
The intensity of Ack-Ack's gaze had ensured that Obi-Wan could not tear his own away. There was an intimidating gleam in the soldier's eyes, one that could very well be the resting expression beneath his helmet while in battle. It was hard and tense, but it wasn't unfeeling. It was incredibly feeling; Obi-Wan got the sense that Ack-Ack wanted him to know that he had taken offense to him, to something he had said or done. The Jedi's eyes narrowed slightly, and not unkindly, as he tried to search Ack-Ack's expression and his energy for any hints at what might be wrong.
"You boys want some caf? We've got a couple new pots brewing," Dex offered, breaking the tense quiet that had befallen the table.
"I sure won't turn it down," Fang said. He knocked a hand into Gunney's arm, garnered his attention, and nodded towards a booth. "C'mon, Guns, let's grab a seat."
Both Gunney and Fang moved towards the far corner booth, lifting hands and exchanging greetings to other troopers at the end of the counter. Ack-Ack stared Obi-Wan down for a moment longer before, this time almost expectantly. Like he was waiting for him to say something or do something. And then, begrudgingly it seemed, he turned his attention back to Dex.
"That'd be great, thank you, Dex." His tone was light, but expression still tense. He started to walk away, only to stop and turn back around on his heels, a finger raised. Eyes fully narrowed, now, he leveled that finger at Obi-Wan. "Don't you wanna know?"
Obi-Wan's eyebrows furrowed. "Beg pardon?"
Ack-Ack's nostrils flared again. "General Skywalker," he said as though it explained everything. Obi-Wan's expression visibly dropped. "You always ask after her when we return from a solo away mission. You seem to have forgotten to this time, only inquired after the mandate, so I've done you the liberty of jogging your memory." The muscles in Ack-Ack's face were pulled so taut there might be a fear they'd all snap. "D'you wanna know how she's doing?"
With a plunging feeling in his gut, Obi-Wan realized just why there had been so much animosity boiling in the air. Ack-Ack, to some degree, must know that something had transpired between Elara and Obi-Wan. The Captain was fiercely protective of his General. There was no doubt that man would come to blows with anyone who so much as breathed a slanderous breath in her direction. That heavy dropping sensation, which had formed a pit in Obi-Wan's stomach, gave way to a hot, smarting sensation. It left him feeling offended. Affronted by the insinuation that he would at all be uncaring towards Elara. That he would have forgotten about her and her well being when it was all that he had been able to focus on the entire time that they'd been off planet. The ire bubbling unbidden in his gut caused his expression to twist. Eyebrows furrowed, lips pulled into a sharp frown, and wrinkles crinkled across the bridge of his nose.
"Of course I want to know," Obi-Wan snipped back, voice clipped but calm. A dangerous calm, like that before a storm, forewarning that something might soon break.
Ack-Ack, expression unchanged, braced a hand on the back of the seat Dex sat on and leaned forward. His other hand came to grasp the edge of the table. Plastoid alloy clacked hollowly as the pieces shifted when the Captain bent forward to meet Obi-Wan's eyes levelly. His gaze narrowed and his lips twisted down at the corners. And the words that left Ack-Ack's mouth were spoken lowly and sharply, snapping through the air like a blaster bolt shot from the hip.
"She's perfectly alright."
The words cut through Obi-Wan like they were serrated. It was a relief, truly, to have a positive confirmation of her well-being. That, given the state he had last seen her in, she was alright. But they also snapped around his heart like a snare. It had that caged part of him crying out, sliding to the ground against the bars; because this could mean the worst case scenario. It could mean that in her time away, Elara might have found a way to fulfil her trembling promise. The one that she'd spoken to him moments before leaving him behind––she might have found a way to forever compartmentalize and overcome what had grown between them. And that… that struck fear into the very heart of him.
OOOO
Anakin sat perched on the corner of Padmé's desk, silently admiring the cityscape her office in the Senate Building allowed. Well, he would be silently admiring it if he were at all paying attention to the ebb and flow of traffic, or the way the late afternoon sun glinted off the windows like flash bangs. He focused on none of these things. He wasn't even focused on the fragile glass ornament he was tossing between his hands; it was shaped like an egg, and yellow-orange in color. A gift to Padmé from some foreign dignitary. It would shatter to bits if it hit the ground, but if Anakin ever let it overshoot one of his hands, he'd casually pull it back into his palm by way of the Force. And even when he did that he wasn't focused on it––he did it absentmindedly, almost like it were a sigh, fingers barely twitching as they manipulated the Force in the room. In fact, Anakin wasn't focused on much of anything. Lost to his own thoughts, all he had been doing for the past––hour, maybe?––was sit there on that desk, tossing that ornament around.
There was a quiet whir as the door to the office opened.
"Anakin?" questioned Padmé's lovely, gentle voice.
There was a muffled thwump as the glass egg met the gloved palm of his flesh hand. He looked over to the door to find his beautiful wife stopped just inside of it, staring in pleased surprise. A bright smile split across her face, which in turn inspired one to pull across his own. But it wasn't as large, wasn't as enthused as it would normally be. Troubled thoughts had made for a more subdued demeanor, but he was very happy to see her again. Anakin slipped off the corner of the desk, set the glass ornament down, and rounded the piece of furniture. He opened his arms in want––in need––of an embrace. Padmé, whose expression had fallen slightly in question, met him halfway across the room and reached up to wrap her arms around his shoulders. The press of her body against him, the warmth of her bleeding into him had Anakin sighing in relief. He never truly felt as though he'd returned home until Padmé was in his arms again. And though Gleann had been an easy, uneventful mission, the emotional toll of it had been surprisingly high; so it was a great comfort to be back on Coruscant again. To be back with her again.
With eyes squeezed shut, Anakin folded his arms around her slender form and lifted her off her feet. A little laugh tittered from Padmé's mouth as he started to turn her in a slow circle, his face pressed into the crook of her neck. The dress she wore, rich blue intricately beaded, had a small train, which wound around both their legs as they turned. The whisper of the weighty fabric dragging across the floor was all that interrupted the slow, tender moment. Once Anakin set Padmé back on her feet, her hands came to grasp his arms. Though still smiling and eyes still bright, she angled a questioning look up at him.
"Is everything alright?" she asked.
He nodded and lifted a hand, smoothing his thumb over the furrow between her eyebrows, hoping to iron it away. That hand then came to rest gently on her cheek. "Yes, everything's fine," he promised.
The sweetness of Padmé's expression waned into something gently stern. Her head cocked to the side slightly, and a delicate brow lifted. Her hand rose and clasped his cheek, directly mirroring his previous gesture. Her thumb slipped over the downward twist of his mouth.
"Then why don't you look like it is? Did something happen on your mission?"
With a sigh, Anakin's eyes fell shut. His head dropped forward until his forehead came to rest against hers. Gently, his thumb swept across the curve of Padmé's cheekbone, memorizing the way it gradually sloped. There were very few people that he couldn't hide anything from––she was one of them. She always seemed to know when something was wrong. Because something was wrong. Or maybe not wrong, it was more difficult than wrong. It was a subject difficult to broach because it was a conversation that they'd had before, and the outcome was almost always the same. But this time, Anakin needed to barter for a different result. Because if he didn't, things would become infinitely more difficult for both him and his sister. With eyebrows furrowing, he let out a shaky exhale. And then, after a moment of quiet, he spoke.
"We need to tell Elara," he croaked out.
The pause that followed his statement felt as though it dragged on for an eternity. Anakin pried his eyes open and found Padmé staring up at him with gently parted lips. She tilted her head back and he lifted his own.
"Tell her," was all she said.
"Yes, tell her."
With a sigh, Padmé's shoulders drooped and her hand fell to rest on Anakin's shoulder. There was no need to elaborate on what they should––or should not––be telling Elara. This was, after all, a conversation they'd had a decent few times before. The conclusion they'd always arrived at was the same. And that conclusion always was––
"We can't." Padmé's expression had become drawn, pained almost, as they proceeded to dive head first into the conversation. She shook her head and squeezed his shoulder tightly, lovingly. "I wish that we could, but we can't."
With a heavy half-sigh, half-groan, Anakin turned away with his expression crumpling. He wobbled a little as his feet got tangled in the fabric wound around his ankles, but proceeded to shake them free with a grimace. Both his hands rose to press the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. His lips twisted downwards at the corners.
"Padmé, please, we have to," he all but pleaded, his voice almost taking on a petulant whine.
"I know that you want to––and I do too! It kills me that we have to lie to her, that I have to lie to her; she's my best friend, Ani. But we agreed that it was for the best that she didn't know," she recalled.
The first time they'd discussed this subject, shortly after they'd married, that was the conclusion they'd come to. It wasn't because they didn't trust Elara––they did, with their lives, in fact. They didn't fear that her reaction to the news would be ballistic; there would be a shock, sure, but for as dedicated a Jedi as she was, tattling on her brother wasn't something she was wont to do. What they hadn't wanted to do was place the burden of shouldering their secret for them. They didn't want to foist this responsibility on her. For bearing the weight of such a secret was overwhelming. It restricted one's life in frustrating ways. And though they didn't fear that Elara would run to the Council and expose them, they did fear how she would react. This could very well be seen as a betrayal of trust. Elara was a very trusting person, and the thought of losing it because they had hidden such a momentous thing from her was terrifying. It wasn't something that they had been willing to risk.
On top of all of that, there was a hot, restless guilt burning in Anakin's stomach. Because the reasons that Elara had given him for not telling him about the mistaken betrothal––they were almost identical to the ones they gave for not telling her about their very real marriage. In that moment, he'd instantly gone from offended that she hadn't told him, to realizing the hypocrisy of that anger. The guilt had been gnawing away at him ever since that first night on Gleann, and it was becoming unignorable. It had his heel tapping on the ground whenever he was sitting down; or had his thumb at his mouth to chew at the skin around his nail in a desperate bid to alleviate the stress. Keeping the marriage a secret had been killing him anyways. Add guilt on top of that, and it was starting to feel like he was going insane.
Anakin whipped his hands down from his face and, with a huff, spun back around on his heels. His eyes were wide and pleading, and his hands were held out before him in much the same manner. Halfway across the room, Padmé was staring at him with doleful eyes, silently begging him to leave the matter lie. This was not a good conversation to have elevate into a full-on argument; especially not here, not in the Senate Building. But it was something that they'd have to chance, Anakin figured. If anyone poked their head in because of raised voices, he'd willingly say that Senator Amidala was putting him in his place over a reckless decision made on a mission.
It wouldn't have been the first time.
"Padmé, you have to listen to me. This is no longer about if I––we––should tell her; we have to tell her," he reiterated for the third time.
"Why do we have to tell her?" Padmé asked. There was a tightness to her voice now, one that often entered it as she was about to engage in diplomat-mode. She moved towards her desk, shoulders squared, expression carefully schooled. Once she was close enough, Padmé snatched up the glass egg he'd been playing with and scooted it back into place.
Anakin was quick to follow her around the desk, and quickly inserted himself in the space between her and the chair, which prevented her from sitting. She shot him a look as he gently took her by the arms.
"Because I think Elara is in love with Obi-Wan."
The news, which had hit him as though it were a bomb, seemed to do absolutely nothing to Padmé. All she did was blink at him wordlessly. And then, with an arched eyebrow, she asked, "You're just figuring that out now?"
Anakin gaped at her. "What do you mean 'I'm just figuring this out now?' Did she tell you?"
"No, but you have seen the way she looks at him, don't you?" she questioned. Anakin's mouth twisted into a brotherly grimace, as he did not want to analyze all of the flirtatious looks that the two had shot back and forth over the years. Especially now that he knew that, on Elara's end, they meant something. Suddenly, Padmé's face went slack and her eyes went wide. She grabbed hold of Anakin's elbows excitedly and spun him around. He toppled backwards into the desk chair, and found himself now staring wide-eyed up at his wife. Padmé hovered over him, still grasping onto his arms. "Did she tell you?"
"Kinda, yeah!" Anakin's voice had taken on a defensive tone, now thrown off-guard at having been excitedly manhandled into a chair.
Padmé, with her lips twitching into a disbelieving smile, let go of him and leaned back against her desk. "What did she say?"
"Well… she didn't really say that she loved him, not in so many words at least. It was… implied." He paused, shifted in the chair a little, and sighed. With a frown overcoming his face, he said, "She told me he broke her heart. And that's what I felt that night; I felt her heart… shatter like it was made of glass. I think she might've… admitted something to him, and I think he was very Obi-Wan about it…" here, he grimaced heavily, "and shot her down." Anakin slouched backwards into the chair and turned a guilt ridden look onto the corner of the desk. "There's so much I wanted to say to her to try and help. Because I can help her! I can! I know what it's like to be so in love and have to hide it from everyone. To feel so lonely, but so overwhelmed by love… but I couldn't say anything… I can't say anything… not without betraying you, and I can't do that. And it's tearing me apart. It hurts so bad; because I'm watching her try and salvage what remains of her heart, and I can't help her. All I can do is stand by, overwhelmed by guilt, and watch…"
Tears, hot and frustrated, had brimmed up in Anakin's eyes. With a huffed sigh, he reached up and scrubbed them away, nose crinkling and mouth twisting. He hated this––he hated feeling useless. It frustrated him to no end, especially when it had something to do with someone he loved. It caused a dangerous swell of anger to build up in his stomach. Because when he told Elara that he would do anything for her, he meant it. But he'd also do anything for Padmé, and he couldn't have betrayed her trust in blabbing their biggest secret without her agreeing to it. Lately, Anakin felt so at war in having to choose between those that he loved, that he wished he could just sleep and wake up when it was all sorted. With a heavy sniff, Anakin dropped his hands and continued to glower at the corner of the desk tearily.
Warmth enveloped his hands as Padmé scooped them up in hers. She squeezed them tightly, and the pressure was such a comfort that Anakin's eyes fell shut again. His eyebrows trembled as they pulled together, more tears threatening to rush to his eyes. The steady sweep of her thumbs against his skin was slow and thoughtful. The frantic, frustrated beating of his heart started to calm, and the anger in his stomach started to fizzle out. Padmé's energy was innately calming. Being around her relaxed him immensely. A long breath pulled from his mouth and the would-be furrow between his eyebrows disappeared.
"Tell her."
Anakin's eyes shot open whilst, simultaneously, he rocked forward in the chair. His eyes immediately found Padmé's, blown wide in shock. He clung to her hands as tightly as he could, heart pounding inside his chest, against his breathless lungs.
"What?" he breathed.
The corners of Padmé's mouth lifted softly, and a fondness gleamed in her eyes. But there was still a tentativeness to her expression. "We can't very well hide this from her for the rest of our lives," she said. "We never discussed when we would absolutely have to tell her… but I think we always knew we would end up doing so. Just…" she pressed her lips together for a moment and squeezed his hands, "tell me when you do it; or when you're going to."
"I will! Of course I will!" Anakin launched to his feet, a wave of giddy relief washing over him. He pried his hands out of Padmé's just so he could clasp her face between them and kiss her. He kissed her a second and a third time, heedless of her half-laughed warning of his name. They'd made a deal not to share this kind of physical affection in her office––it was too risky. But Anakin was known to take risks, and like doing them. And he was just so elated at the moment that he couldn't help himself. With a fourth and final kiss, he grinned against her mouth. "Thank you…"
This would change everything, and hopefully for the better. There would be no more secrets between them, just as it should be, as it had always been. Elara––after the initial shock––would surely be thrilled to realize that her best friend was also now her sister-in-law. They could be a family. As much as they could be whilst having to keep it all a secret, but a family nonetheless. And that made Anakin happy, so incredibly happy; he wasn't sure he'd felt so overjoyed since the day he and Padmé had gotten married. And in finally admitting this, he could help Elara as she had so often helped him. He could make things better. He could do good.
Padmé smiled at him softly, reached up, and tucked his ever lengthening hair behind his ear. "I love you."
Anakin grinned toothily, looking impossibly, helplessly in love. "I love you, too."
Afterword: This chapter was much angstier than intended, but, heyyyy, it ended on a happier note! We'll get lots of good beautifully awkward Obi-Lara stuff next chapter! I got carried away with this one and had to bump it. Also, sorry for the slight delay in posting, I helped a friend make an emergency move, so we were busy all weekend. Next chapter should also usher in the start of the 'Bounty Hunters' episode!
Review Replies!
DCDGojira: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
MsRosePetal: There's that POV you wanted! Catching up with how he's been feelin' while Elara's been gone. Short answer––really not good, the poor dude xD And Ani definitely knows that Elara has feelings for Obi-Wan… but it's completely audacious in his mind that Obi-Wan feels the same way xD Boy is he in for an eventual surprise… And the 442nd would do literally anything for Elara; and as we saw in this chapter… Ack-Ack's got Obi-Wan on his shit list atm! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Duchess of Lantern Waste: Every possible avenue the 442nd could travel in ROTS is just painful. Whether they turn against her, don't turn against her… there's gonna be pain. One thing's for sure––it's going to be one hell of a bad day for Elara in the end, no matter what happens. Hope you enjoyed Obi-Wan's POV! It took a bit to get back into the groove of it, especially since he's so stressy-depressy. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
person2309: Anakin is always going to be awkward over the idea that Elara likes Obi-Wan xD He's always going to be very, very weirded out, and there's going to be a lot of eye-rolling and fake gagging xD Hope that you enjoyed Obi's POV in this chapter; he's a stressed out lad, but he's slowly meandering towards getting better. We got protective clones in this chapter… he'll be seeing Anakin again in the next one. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
SoulCut: Ahh, I'm so glad you like the story so much! It's been fun to figure out how to balance Elara's kind heartedness as being both a strength and a weakness. Because it's definitely a benefit, but it also gets her in trouble. And Obi-Wan definitely isn't having a great time at the moment. His trying to sever their budding relationship has definitely put him in a place. They're climbing their way up from rock bottom, but it's still gonna be a wee bit rocky. I'm so glad that you've been enjoying Elara and her story! She's probably my favorite OC that I've ever written, I adore her so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
bambam411: The past two chapters were definitely supposed to be a big ol' hug for Elara! She's had a rough go of it as of late, and going to Gleann was much needed. And don't you worry, the Obi sass will be back soon. 'Cause these two fools in love have gotta start making up some time… which means the gradual reintroduction of banter! GET HYPED FOR PIRATES, HONDO'S ABOUT TO BE BACK! And I very much appreciate all the time that you put into reading and reviewing the story! :) I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
northernfiction: I've been waiting to get that Ack-Ack and Elara scene into the story for ages! It's so integral for the way that their relationship is going to progress. I adore the lads of the 442nd, and I'm glad that you've come to love them too! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
weasleylover10: Ahh, thank you! I've been waiting to weave Gleann and Wyle back into the story for ages now, so I'm glad they blended into the overarching plot well! It'd definitely be fun if Ack-Ack ever found out about Obi-Wan and Elara getting together; because he would have to fend off… so many people. Anakin. Cody. Rex. BLINKER. Having to not let anything slip to Blinker would be so, so difficult! We should get some Obi-Wan and Anakin interaction in the next chapter, which should be reaaaaaaal fun xD I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
BirkenstockBilly: I'm so glad that you enjoy the 442nd so much! I was really unsure with how well they'd fit into the story when I started to write them in, but I've come to love them so, so much! Writing Acks and Blinker is always a particular joy! Of all the lads in the 442nd/Contigo Squadron, the only one who I'm still working on building up personality wise is Strafer. I love them all so, so much, and I'm glad you do, too! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
MalirBly: Ahh, thank you so much! I loved returning and writing Gleann again; I hope you enjoyed the chapter––thanks again!
lolistarkiller: The 442nd are gonna be on a keen look out for Wyle now that they're all privy to it. They're gonna memorize his face, keep a picture of him in their file, and they're gonna be eyeing every stranger that they see on the streets of Coruscant, and any other planet they're on! They'll protect their Genny to the very end; they'd really do anything for her xD I'm glad that you enjoyed all the clone content last chapter! I've been dying to get those talks in with Acks and Blinker for so, so long! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Aryabloodlust: Ahh, that means so much to me! I was so worried about making the lads of the 442nd mesh well into the world of the CWs, because all clones have such distinctive personalities, and play such distinctive roles. I'm overjoyed to hear that they're meshing well! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
LadyBasara: The boys of the 442nd deserve so much! They deserve to see the end of the war, and to have happy lives beyond it… god, I love them so much. And ohohohoh, yes, Wile is going to come to regret putting that bounty on Elara's head––'cause not only does she have a whole squad of protective lads and friends that want to keep her safe… but she is SO not about being exploited for a bounty. So she's coming for him xD I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
thenerdnextdoor: Acks has grown to hold a very special place in my heart; he's definitely one of my fave supporting OCs that I've written! He and the lads of Contigo are definitely the most in-depth supporting OCs I have ever written. I love them all so, so much! Once the thought of Anakin and Elara huddled up on a stone wall like they did as kids entered my brain, I had to use it. I just had to! And it was such an important moment, too; because he is truly the first person she's confided in—no matter how subtly—about the situation. And when I originally planned out this chunk of the story, I initially had it planned that Elara would become very 'Jedi-y' and closed off towards Obi-Wan… but it just doesn't fit. She's very much a 'kill them with kindness' kind of person… unless someone messes with the people she loves. I'm glad that you loved the Wyle reveal! I had been struggling to figure out how she'd find out it was him, till one day the idea of Noth mentioning it hit me as I walked up my long-ass driveway to get my mail. Whenever she and Wyle finally meet again… boy howdy it's gonna be a time! xD I am very excited for all the Wyle stuff. I loved writing the Blinker moment, because it's a good look into who he is beyond the jokes and the spreadsheets and bold personality. All he wants is to settle down in a nice house and so something. I adore him so much! And, ahh, yes Season 5 and 6 really set you up for 7, which is just the CW version of ROTS, which… hurts so good… and so bad. Godspeed! And, YES! That moment with Acks was HUGE for him! To be hugged and to hug back, AND to call her by her name––growth! He really sees her as someone more than just a superior officer, more than just someone he fights beside. She's family. She's a friend, and that means a whole lot in Acks' book! It took a while to get there, but… it was well worth it. And this was definitely time that Elara needed away from Obi-Wan. She needed to separate herself from all the dramatics of it, and realize that for as much as she's always leaned on Obi-Wan, and he's supported her, there are others who do that, too. And that she can do that for herself as well. Also, I'm glad the transition back to the office seemed to go pretty well! :) And I hope you're ready for Hondo… 'cause he's sauntering right back into the story in a chapter or two! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; and, as always, wonderful to speak with you! Thanks again!
RemiSparklez: I've been gearing up for that Acks talk for a while, now, and it was so, so lovely to finally get to! I have held so much delight in building their friendship up to this point, because they've been close, they've trusted one another… but now they're closer than ever before (ugh, the HUG). And Blinker is always, and always will be, a treat! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Nerdette92: One might say that Elara may be taking the high ground in the situation with Obi-Wan ;) He's definitely going to be thrown for a loop when he realizes the path she's taking; because he likely expects her to go all stone-faced on him, to do exactly as he asked. To be the exemplary Jedi she said she'd be. I'm so excited to write them seeing one another again in the next chapter! The road to fluff town starts here and now! Get ready for the climb! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
zikashigaku: Obi-Wan is going to have his hands full with the 442nd (Contigo Squadron, at least), sending him side-long glances. Because none of the lads other than Ack-Ack may know the seriousness and the context (ish) of the situation… but they have most definitely noticed that things between Obi-Wan and Elara have changed recently. So it's gonna be all side-long glances and short comments. Also, another betting pool? More likely than you may think xD Flirtatious Hondo is ON HIS WAY, and he's REALLY gonna go for it this time xD He better get ready to dodge some fists because neither Anakin or Obi-Wan are gonna be terribly pleased! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
monkeybaby: Writing Elara and the lads of the 442nd makes me happy, too! They've got such great dynamics going that it's always a joy to pick one up and just run with it! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Zabuzas Girl: OOF, Krell better watch out, 'cause Elara does not like him already. Everyone knows that Krell's got terrifically awful battle tactics, and she is not at all happy with how easily he just throws his men out there. So when they have to work together? Good luck to him xD I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
camelotprincess1: Elara definitely is still coming into her own in a lot of ways; and I think that her identifying her kindness as her strength is a big step for her. Because she's been told for years that it is likely a weakness (and in a way, it probably is, but not how the Order views it)––and to accept it as what sets her apart from everyone else, and to use it as her strength? It's a huge step for her. And Obi-Wan is going to eat his words, and maybe that'll give him the nudge he needs to start making reparations. And Wyle lurks. He's a lurker. He's even super lurking 'cause he's sending bounty hunters after her so he doesn't have to step out of the shadows just yet. I'm very excited to keep the Wyle stuff going, it's been fun to pepper it in as the story progresses! Blinker deserves to live a calm, happy life after the war doing art and living in a cozy little house. What a lovely lad––I just wanna give him a hug. And Acks, too! And you are absolutely correct; he is definitely going to be giving Obi-Wan the cold shoulder… and some scathing side-eyes. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Elizabeth: Once things smooth out and Anakin's a little less weirded out by Elara's feelings for Obi-Wan, he's going to bring it up all the time. And he will definitely just drop his knowledge of it on Obi-Wan and just walk away, leaving him speechless xD He's gonna have fun with that. Elara and Anakin both definitely needed to have that chat. To be able to get things of their chests––be it the vague admission of feelings or admitting to feeling conflicted about the situation as a whole. In planning this part of the story out, I wanted to make sure I stayed faithful to Anakin's loyalty to and love of Obi-Wan. He would pick Elara's side any day of the week, protect her with all he's got… but Obi-Wan means a lot to him, too. So he can't just discard those loyalties at the drop of a hat. It's gonna be a real conflict for him. And, yes! Elara is definitely one to try and maintain her meaningful relationships as best she can. Letting go of Obi-Wan just… isn't an option for her. So if she has to make adjustments, no matter how much they hurt her… she'll make them. But she'll still stay true to herself. And yesss, the stuff with Wyle is heating up––and the Council is FULLY aware of everything, now, so traction will be gained! I'm very excited to write more Wyle content, especially once we finally see him again! I'm so glad that you're enjoying all of the clone lads! I've had such fun in developing them as characters, to figure out who they are as individuals, as well as who they are as soldiers, and how both those aspects affect each other. So it was loads of fun to dive into Blinker's quieter, more earnest side in the last chapter. The clones are most certainly a central part of this story, so I've tried to make sure I give them ample time and ample opportunities to tell their own stories :) And I think both Acks and Elara are quite similar in a lot of ways; so both of them reacting to his question the exact same way was a blast to write. Because both of them like to make sure the line of professionalism is defined… so when it was trod on, she knew that what he was saying was serious and earnest. Elara is very professional… until she knows she doesn't have to be, and then she's all smiles and hugs and laughter. I also totally agree––she and Qui-Gon would have been great friends. She also totally and absolutely goes into the Jedi Archives to read what she can about him––old mission reports and the like, and has gotten Obi-Wan to tell her all about him. And for much as it sucks, Obi-Wan not having the support system that Elara does is kind of… necessary? The trouble on his end of the situation comes from how he's taught himself to handle these kinds of situations, so he has to kind of learn how to undo it himself. For Elara, she needs to be reminded that she's not alone in this kind of situation, because it's made her feel so, so isolated. It's been fun to play with how they get through this rough patch. And, yes, I do know of 'Master & Apprentice!' It's currently sitting on my bedside table, actually; I listened to the first chapter on audiobook, but I have to start over with the physical book. When I drive, it's usually my thinking time, so I blanked on a lot of what happened. I'm really excited to get into it, I've heard nothing but good things! Anyways, thank you so much for your lovely review! Hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
And thank you to those that added this to their follows/favorites! It means a lot!
Next up, Obi-Wan and Elara see each other for the first time since their tiff! Get ready for some really lovely awkwardness. We should also be getting Obi-Wan and Anakin seeing one another again… and the lead in/start of 'Bounty Hunters!' Hondo, here we come! Thanks again, everyone, for your patience! Y'all rock!
~Mary