A/N: Hello, there... shout out to all my reviewers/followers/readers that liked this wild ride of a crossover. Because of you, I actually wrote a second chapter (and a third is partially formed). I can't reply to everyone, but I'm replying to those with reviews that particularly inspired me.

To DovahStark - I appreciate that wights can only be killed by dragon glass or fire, but as Obi-Wan essentially has a plasma sword, that kills them in my interpretation of this crossover world. Hopefully you'll allow me some artistic interpretation!

To Bella-swan11 - I don't plan for Obi-Wan to reunite with the rest of the Star Wars verse, but I never say never. Either way, Obi-Wan has arrived for a reason.

To 1nt3rD1ct0r - I appreciate your in-depth Star Wars knowledge! If I ever rewrite this I'll definitely take that into account. Also, thanks for your encouragement :)

CHAPTER TWO

To Winterfell

Horseback was possibly the worst form of transport anyone had ever invented. Obi-Wan actually thought he might prefer to ride a bantha, or a starship with Anakin at the helm, than ride a horse for any length of time. He kept his complaints internal, but his travelling companion would have to be a fool not to notice Obi-Wan's discomfort.

"For knight, you don't have much experience with horses, do you?"

Obi-Wan grimaced.

"Very little. I prefer a more civilised form of transport." He was clutching at Lannister's waist in order to prevent himself from falling off the damn thing. "And technically I'm a general, not a knight. I suppose it hardly matters, now that I'm on this backwards planet."

The horse trotted on, each step it took jarring Obi-Wan to the bone.

"A general? Of what army?"

"The Republic."

"I can't say I've heard of it. What land do you hail from?"

Obi-Wan swallowed a sigh.

"A galaxy very far away. Coruscant, if you must know."

"A good name. I am pleased to have met you, Obi-Wan of Coruscant, even if we are on our way to certain death."

"I kriffing hope not," Obi-Wan muttered. Lannister shifted in front of him as the horse stumbled. It was fully dark now, with only the moon and the stars lighting up the sky.

"Do you think you can manage to hold the reigns? If not, we shall have to make camp. I'm too weary to continue on."

After careful consideration, Obi-Wan concluded that they'd likely both fall off if he was steering the horse and said as much.

"Horses aren't steered… I sense this is a fruitless discussion," Lannister said. He pulled the horse to stop. Obi-Wan slid off, shaking out his aching muscles. "It never properly gets light in these lands. When the sky brightens, wake me, or if you need to sleep. One of us will have to stand guard."

"I can hold vigil."

Lannister took his time settling. He brushed down his horse and curled up under his cloak, sword clasped in his hands. Obi-Wan leaned against a tree trunk, arms folded, contemplating the world he'd found himself in.

Dead men come to life, antiquated infrastructure and technology, and an impending sense of doom. Perhaps the Sith had placed Obi-Wan in a nightmare. Or perhaps he'd been displaced in time. It was a dark day indeed when the idea he'd been grounded on a planet so far on the Outer Rim it hadn't had any contact with the wider galaxy was a positive alternative. He fiddled with his coms, however, Anakin had always been the dab hand at electrical mechanics, not he.

Time passed and the forest fell quiet. Obi-Wan didn't sense any of the hollowness in the Force that he'd felt when the dead had approached them before, but he remained wary. Finally, the horizon began to grow lighter. Several hours had passed and Obi-Wan was beginning to feel weary himself. He ate a protein bar from his belt and shook Lannister awake.

"Not far to go now," Lannister muttered. "Just a few hours on horseback."

Obi-Wan bit back a groan. "Joy of joys."

Lannister flashed him a grin, unusual, compared to how solemn he'd been so far. It took fifteen years off his age.

"Come on, you can't say you're not having fun."

"I'm not having fun," Obi-Wan said, but he cracked a smile at Lannister's smirk. "So, who are you, then? I got the feeling from your introduction that I was missing part of the picture, somehow."

For a moment, Lannister's smile dimmed, but then it grew wider, insincere.

"Prince Jaime Lannister, at your service, ser knight."

Somehow, Obi-Wan got the sense that this society was far more feudalistic than Naboo's had been.

"I should have known that I was in the presence of royalty. Only someone of royal blood could enjoy riding this lump of a creature."

"Oh, hush. Palmio might take offence."

Obi-Wan glared at the horse and pulled himself up behind Lannister. "If you say so," he replied dubiously.

"I do," Lannister retorted. "Now, let me get you up to speed, my fair traveller, as you seem to have very little understanding of the world that you're living in…"

By the time they'd arrived at Winterfell, Obi-Wan had a much fuller understanding of Westeros and its surrounding continents. The idea that there existed beasts like krayt dragons, only more formidable and more intelligent, was nearly as disturbing as the idea that a malevolent being was intent on murdering every living thing on the planet and the only people that wanted to stop him were making a stand from inside a stone castle.

"Trebuchets," Obi-Wan murmured, shaking his head. "How I wish for blaster cannons. Still, they are at least superior to catapults."

He fell silent when Lannister nudged him and followed where the man gazed.

Winterfell was a majestic castle of dark stone and jagged battlements, topping the hill as they approached. Obi-Wan had seen bigger and more modern, but there was something awe-inspiring about the structure when he remembered that it would have been built by hand.

"This is where we separate, I think," Obi-Wan decided. Before Lannister could object, Obi-Wan jumped clear of the horse, grateful to be on solid ground once more.

"Where will you go?" Lannister asked, clearly baffled.

"I wish to scout ahead and see this threat for myself. Don't worry about me, now—I've already proved I can handle myself, haven't I?"

"You have… against four of them, not four thousand, or four hundred thousand!"

"That many? Really? How dreadful. I shall have to put a dent in their numbers."

Lannister looked gobsmacked.

"If you don't come to Winterfell, you'll surely be killed."

Obi-Wan reached inside himself for the Force and was certain that he was on the right route.

"Perhaps," he agreed. There was always a chance he would have to give his life in service of the light. "But then again, perhaps not. Keep yourself safe, Your Highness. I suspect that I'll see you again soon enough."

Lannister tilted his head to one side, eyes narrowed. "Call me Jaime. You've earned it, I suppose."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Until the next time, Jaime."

Jaime kicked his horse into action and they trotted away. Obi-Wan raised a single hand in a solitary farewell. Jaime didn't look back, for which Obi-Wan was glad. To be full of regret was to be full of fear, something neither of them could afford if what lay ahead was truly as Jaime had said.

Obi-Wan began to jog North, following the outskirts of a forest on the edge of the camp at Winterfell. A few men saw and hailed him, but as they could see that he was living, they did not seem to mind what he was doing.

If an army of the dead walked South, Obi-Wan was going to do everything in his power to prevent them from reaching further. He thought of the Battle of Naboo, and how the droids had all collapsed when the Droid Station had been destroyed. If he could kill one of the infamous White Walkers, would then all the wights it had enchanted die too?