A/N: Hello my dears... I am back. And I am so, so sorry for that long silence. It is really not easy to be a family doctor in France right now - the medias, the vaccines, the fears, the schedules one has to keep modifying, and of course the general context... I have felt far, far away from fanfiction, these past weeks, but not at all from Obi-Wan and the GAR, because honestly... sometimes I just wish the Force was there to help us release our sense of helplessness and our fears. *But* my patients are still adorable and my family is supportive, so even though I confess these past weeks were rough, and that those coming are probably as well, I am back :).

I'm fully determined to catch up with those lovely reviews you left me. Please know that they really mean the world to me, and that I love this fandom and all the people within it - you help me dream and try to turn feelings into words, which is my way to "release them in the Force". Hope you'll like this one, see you below, Meysun.


Sparks of Hope (A Star-Wars Advent Calendar)

By Meysun


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23. Outvoiced (Ahsoka)

19 BBY

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Obi-Wan's temples were turning grey.

And somehow, Ahsoka struggled to wrap her mind around it. Strived even to believe that she stood there once more, facing him and Anakin like before. Her former Grandmaster and her beloved Master.

She could sense Bo-Katan's tension next to her, and Anakin's – Skyguy's – eagerness. But nothing from Obi-Wan. Nothing but carefully drawn shields – clear eyes concealing every thought, stance alert yet body cloaked by his robe, hands disappearing in his sleeves.

Her Grandmaster had disappointed her so much.

But now Obi-Wan's temples were turning grey, thin lines were cornering his eyes, and there was something missing in his signature, something making Ahsoka's heart clench, stilling sharp words on her tongue once more.

He looked so tired. So wary.

And so, Ahsoka only talked to explain Mandalore's situation – that unique chance to capture Maul, to try and trace the Sith Lord through him once more. She let Bo-Katan be the one firing bolts at her Grandmaster – her Grandmaster who had not lifted a finger nor said a word to help her. Who had sat in the Republic Court so thin and silent and wary – the fabled Negotiator reduced to a mere figure in the shadows, a pawn in a world of politics and war.

So small.

Obi-Wan had seemed so small to her, and she had felt anger and contempt and disappointment and fear, until there was nothing left in the Force but the absolute clarity that she had to leave.

She let Bo-Katan fire away at him and did not say a word – she allowed Bo-Katan to spit out the words she had meant to tell her Grandmaster, and watched the thin lines around his eyes deepen in hurt.

"I thought she meant something to you."

I thought I meant something to you.

"She did."

Obi-Wan's voice was so soft.

"And still does."

He had crossed his arms as well, in that silent, defiant gesture she knew so well – but now Ahsoka saw a world of sadness behind it. Arms barring the way to his heart, because Obi-Wan had loved Duchess Satine, and loved her still, in that unique, discreet and unbinding way they had found together.

As you do, dearest.

It felt like a punch to the gut, the thought brushing her shields so very gently, like his hand on her shoulder so long ago on Geonosis, when she had run to him, falling to her knees by his side, terrified to see him leaning against those crates.

Leaning when he should have been standing.

"But I cannot allow my feelings to cloud my judgment. The Council will decide what our course of action will be."

Ahsoka barely heard him. She simply watched him turn, lost in that simple brown cloak he was not leaving anymore – and she did not listen to Bo-Katan's disappointment anymore, could scarcely understand her words.

As you do, dearest.

She remembered the ration bars she kept finding in her backpack, somehow always flavoured the way she liked. Those mornings when she had crashed in Obi-Wan's quarters on the Negotiator because it was the only place remotely tidy – the only place where the Force seemed to calm down, appeasing her. On those dawns, Ahsoka would always find her boots clean and polished to a fault, waiting for her in the morning.

She remembered the days where she was indisposed and unwilling to say so, in a world full of men she loved but who had not the remotest idea what it was to be a girl, once in a month. Those days, whenever Obi-Wan was there, her Grandmaster made sure to give her space, to ease her from heavy duty. And those nights, she always found a small heating pack ready in her bedroll.

She would come to him, whenever it all felt too much, especially on those days, and especially after Geonosis. After she had been trapped under those rocks with Barriss, she had joined Obi-Wan on the medical station. He had been there when she had woken and had held her tight as she had cried, quietly, helping her to release her fear and exhaustion into the Force.

With Skyguy and the Men, Ahsoka had always felt like a little sister. It was a bit different with Rex, who was more protective and who was one of the few Ahsoka could still call friends.

But Obi-Wan… Obi-Wan had never felt like a teasing brother, or a friend. He had felt like a parent – at least, as close to a parent as she would ever get.

And if Ahsoka took the trouble to really think about those days on the run, those horrible hours in prison and these terrible moments in the Republic Court – if she tried to skim through the fear, and anger, and betrayal, and confusion… through Skyguy's frantic determination, Master Plo's steady resolve and Padmé's devotion… through Ventress' unexpected alliance and Barriss' betrayal…

If she really tried to think back about the way all her bonds had felt, during those terrible times…

Then there was a voice Ahsoka had ignored, all those moments. Words that had echoed through her Grandmaster's bond – so quiet and unobtrusive and loving that it had been easy to push them back.

My dear please do not run, come back to us, please wait for me, wait for me, wait for me. I am not there, I am not there yet but I am on my way, please do not run, please stay safe…

He had not been there, when Skyguy and her had been asked to investigate. The Jedi Council had sent him the Force knew where – only to call him back short before her trial, and Obi-Wan's words had been lost in the storm.

Dearest, be safe. It is dangerous down there. If you are with Ventress, then… maybe you are safer. I hope so. I am almost there…

Ahsoka recalled the Chamber of Judgment, as she had done so many times before, but this time she did not focus on Master Mundi's terrible words, stripping her of everything she held dear. This time, she recalled what Master Yoda had said, and tried to picture Obi-Wan before her.

"Not in total agreement, are we."

Yoda's voice had been sad. And her Grandmaster's hands had been clenched in his lap, knuckles white with a pain he knew better than to show, or share.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

Obi-Wan's thoughts had melted with hers, in that moment and in Court. It had been so easy to lose his voice among her own, raging one.

And he had not tried to shout above hers.

Her Grandmaster had simply been powerless. Tuned out. Reduced to silence.

Outvoiced, but not voiceless.

Ahsoka's heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her montrals. She wanted to run after him, to shout at him, to shake him and fight him and hug him and cry in his arms.

Instead, she remembered that Skyguy was there as well – that there were so many threads to knit back together, so much expectation from her former Master, who wanted her back, not realising that Ahsoka could only come back if there was no war anymore, no Chancellor reducing the Jedi to mere puppets, preventing them to act as the peacekeepers they were supposed to be…

The Republic, as it was right now, was swallowing her Grandmaster and her Master alive – and Ahsoka feared what would be left of them, once the war would spit them back out.

It made the blow sting even harder, when it became clear that Skyguy and Obi-Wan would have to leave, to rescue the Chancellor who had been captured by Dooku, leaving Ahsoka and Bo-Katan alone to fight for Mandalore.

It made Ahsoka spit out words that had burned her throat long enough – but it still hurt.

"Once more, you are playing politics."

She was almost out of breath, facing her former Grandmaster – determined to fight for him, since he could not see for himself just how little was left of him.

"That is not fair."

The raw honesty in Obi-Wan's words took her aback. She had not expected that – sadness and love and hurt seeping through his shields, a fragment of his very soul bared for her to see.

Because Obi-Wan thought she was worth it.

Because her Grandmaster finally let down his guard, standing vulnerable and truthful and aging before her. Breaking her heart once more, this time with his very honesty.

"It was not meant to be."

They stared at each other. Even when they negotiated Ahsoka's return to the GAR, with Rex as her new Commander, and blue-and-orange troop who would follow her to death, if needed.

They just looked at each other.

And Ahsoka did not know what Obi-Wan saw, in her. But she caught a glimpse, when she asked for what was nothing but a blessing from him, and when he gave it to her, without a moment of hesitation.

Unending love. Pride. Respect. Tolerance. Admiration.

She saw a man she had placed on a pedestal, like children did with those they called parents. A Jedi she had thought to be invincible, with shields of iron and a tongue of silver – a Master who could negotiate everything.

But Obi-Wan was so much more than that. He was a man who had lost so much, who tried so hard, but was always part of something bigger than him: the Temple, the Council, the GAR, the Republic… He was a Jedi who struggled as they all did, beneath shields that had the fault to look invincible, but who could break as they all did.

He was mortal, vulnerable, and flawed, as they all were.

And Ahsoka only loved him more for it – with a love finally stripped of the flourishes of idealisation and childish expectations.

He turned away from her, with a final advice for her fight against Maul. And she was left with Anakin, for a few moments and words that were beyond precious for her.

But before they all left, she managed to run, finding Obi-Wan exactly where she expected him to be, giving final instructions to Rex.

Rex bowed when he saw her, and Obi-Wan turned around.

It only lasted seconds, a minute maybe. And Ahsoka did not run, she simply walked up to him, watching his eyes widen slightly and his stance soften – because it was her and Obi-Wan would always let her.

She walked up to him, and in that short minute, she embraced her Grandmaster with everything she had, leaning her forehead in the crook between his neck and his shoulder, feeling his arms wrap themselves around him.

He was thinner than she remembered. Colder, as well, exhaustion permeating his signature where Satine was missing, but where Ahsoka was knitted back.

They did not talk, they just stood there, for a whole, blessed minute.

Weaving themselves back together.

And in a world that was turning to chaos, where they were all tossed and turned about like pawns - in that small, sacred minute, the Force shrouded them.

Weaving them back together.


A/N: Oh Force... This one was waiting for whole *weeks* to be written. And I was so nervous, because hey, this is *Ahsoka* speaking - the one so many out there love so well, and it's not even about her and Anakin, it's about her and Obi-Wan. This chapter was written especially for DreamKind on A03 who asked for it. I hope it turned out okay. Of course, I was the one crying her eyes out during those final episodes - but I also tried to write a few added scenes allowing hope to spark :). Two more chapters to go, this time a weekly chapter should be doable. Please stay safe, take care and... don't think I forget you. Cause I don't. Much love, Meysun.