This chapter fought me so hard, guys. Like took me to a back alley and beat me up, repeatedly. I just couldn't get the words out. As a result, it took forever to write and I'm not completely satisfied with it, but I decided I needed to post it and end it before I lost my sanity. I've had this whole 'perfect world' idea forever but man, it really didn't want to come out easily. Anyways, it's done and I survived and have it now for you to hopefully enjoy.
Summary: After weeks of complete silence on Qui-Gon's end about how to help Obi-Wan wake up, Iyla is slowly unraveling in her efforts to be perfect. A foiled plan of hers leads to a breakdown but Qui-Gon returns with a solution. Obi-Wan is finally awake but the hurt feelings and insecurities still need to be addressed.
On to Part 2 of this angst-fest mixed in with comfort in the end because, hello, it's me, lol.
Chapter 23: Perfectly Imperfect
Padme frowned at the open space on the shoe rack. Dinner was nearly ready and she was still missing a key member of her family.
"Leia, darling?" she called out.
"Yes, Mommy?" Leia asked coming into the room with a small droid in her hand.
"Did you comm Iyla like I told you to?"
"Yes, Mommy, right after you asked me to. I even used Lola. We told her dinner will be ready soon and she should head home."
"Hmm, that was nearly a half hour ago. I wonder where she could be," Padme replied, eyebrows creased in concern.
"She's probly training," Luke spoke up trying to look innocent when he was clearly hiding something behind his back.
"Training?" Padme asked.
"Yes, for the Initiate Trials, Mommy. They're coming up in a few weeks," Leia answered tapping a button and letting the circular droid hover in the air next to her.
"Didn't she just do the Trials?"
"That was a different one. There's usually like 3 a year so all the Masters get to see the kids trying to be Padawans," Luke answered as he shuffled from the room awkwardly, making sure his back wasn't to them.
"But Iyla isn't 13 yet. 13 is when an Initiate comes of age for Padawanship, isn't it?" Padme asked keeping a sharp eye on her son.
"Not necessarily," Anakin replied shuffling into the kitchen. "It's not unusual for a Padawan to be taken before they are 13. That's why children as young as 11 are allowed to do the Trials. 13 is simply when an official petition can be issued for an Initiate, since they've nearly outgrown the crèche and have completed their Initiate education."
Padme nodded distractedly, eyes staring at the space where a certain pair of shoes was missing. It wasn't surprising that Iyla wanted to take the Trials multiple times. She was a devoted learner and a hard worker and she'd been anxious for a Master for a while, growing lonely in the crèche without her friends.
"Hey! Dad!" Padme was startled out of her thoughts by Luke's cry of indignation.
"No sneaking food before dinner, son," Anakin teased holding a sweet roll in his hands.
"But I'm hungry," the boy pouted.
"Dinner is pretty much ready, bud. You can eat then. In the meantime, I think I should hold on to this for you," Anakin smirked.
"But you're gonna eat it," Luke protested.
"I'm the one who confiscated it so I'm the one who gets to decide what to do with it," Anakin argued.
Padme rolled her eyes and snatched the roll from his hands. "And I'm the one who made it so it's my decision what happens to it. Which is that it will go back in the basket. Now, if you two are so eager for food, you can set the table."
Both of their mouths fell into an identical frown and Padme gave an exasperated head shake.
"Aren't you glad you had me, Mommy? To have someone so well-behaved instead of those crazy boys?" Leia asked sweetly.
Padme raised an eyebrow and held out her hand. "Give it to me."
Leia faked confusion. "Whatever do you mean, mother?"
Padme smirked and snatched the droid from the air. Leia's eyes grew wide and she reached for it. Padme pushed a button to open a compartment and took out the piece of sweet bread. She turned to her daughter and held it up looking unimpressed.
Leia scowled and crossed her arms. "I'm hungry too. Iyla's taking forever and it's no fair that we have to wait for her," she pouted.
Anakin and Padme's eyes met from across the kitchen. Anakin nodded and set down the glass in his hand.
"I'll go bring her home," he promised with a kiss to her cheek.
Padme smiled and kissed him back before turning to her sneaky children. "Alright, one roll each, but that's it."
Anakin laughed as he entered the hallway, the cheers of the twins following him out.
He took a lift down to the training rooms and sought out the junior room used for training younglings. The room held one occupant only. A panting and frustrated 12-year-old Kenobi was currently using a training saber to whack at the soft projectiles being launched from a hovering droid.
"That's an interesting technique," Anakin commented with a smirk.
Iyla whipped around to him in surprise then sighed and slumped her shoulders. She powered down the training saber then reached out to turn off the droid as well. One remaining rubber pellet bounced off her head and she growled at it as she rubbed the spot where it hit.
"I never learned that form. Did you find it in one of your books from the Archives?" Anakin teased stowing the droid away and grabbing the saber from Iyla's clenched hands.
Iyla huffed and grunted in response before flopping down on the mat and reaching for her boots.
Anakin, sensing her anger and frustration, decided to not comment any further.
"Did you get Leia's comm?"
"Yes," Iyla replied shortly.
"So you know that dinner is ready."
"Yes."
"But you chose to ignore it?"
"…Yes."
"Because…?"
"I don't need to eat. I need to practice."
"Right, right, yes, of course, because training and practicing all day without eating anything is a great way to build up strength and stamina," Anakin replied with a wink and a nudge.
Iyla's fierce scowl told him that his jokes weren't going to work this time.
Anakin sighed and watched her huff and frown at the buckles on her boots that didn't want to cooperate. He silently reached out and buckled them for her then took her hands in his own and rubbed them soothingly.
Iyla wrenched her hands away and folded her arms. "I could've done it myself. 'M not a baby."
"Of course not, kiddo. But you are human and you do need to eat."
"I'm fine. I'm not hungry," she replied just as her stomach gave a protesting groan. Iyla wrapped her arms around it and glared at it as if it betrayed her.
"Hmm, doesn't sound like it to me."
Iyla pouted and looked away from him.
"You wanna talk about why you're ignoring comm calls and skipping meals?" Anakin asked.
Iyla opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off.
"Nari and Shona called me earlier and said you hadn't showed up for lunch like you told them you would."
Iyla muttered 'traitors' under her breath. "I was busy," she defended.
"Training?"
"Maybe."
"Iyla, you're one of the best Initiates in the crèche, there's very little you need to train for that you aren't already good at," Anakin soothed.
"Good isn't good enough," she replied.
"You placed first in all saber forms during the last Trials. I'm not sure what else there is to achieve."
"How about actually getting a Master?"
"You know it's not only based on skills, kiddo. The Force plays a large hand in determining Master and Padawan pairs. There's no question in anyone's mind that you're capable and strong, Iyla."
"Then how come I'm not a Padawan yet?" she asked looking defeated.
"Because you're trying too hard."
Iyla scoffed.
"It's true. You're wearing yourself thin and Masters can sense these things. Though it paints you as a hard worker, it also paints you as one who still has much to learn about balance and emotions."
"Like you're one to talk about balanced emotions," Iyla muttered.
Anakin's eyebrows rose. "Excuse me," he said.
Iyla ducked her head and lowered her eyes. "Sorry. That was rude."
"Yes, it was. But you're tired and hungry so I'll let it slide this time. Now, let's go home and get some food in that stomach," Anakin said standing up and offering her his hand.
"But can't I just have a few more minutes? I nearly perfected my form and deflected every bolt."
"It didn't look like that to me when I walked in," Anakin countered.
Iyla blushed and looked away. "That was a momentary lapse in control. It won't happen again."
"You're right, it won't. Because you're coming home to eat and rest."
"But Uncle Anakin!" Iyla whined.
"Iyla," he said warningly.
"But-"
"Now, Iyla," Anakin said firmly with a stern look.
Iyla groaned in frustration and got to her feet with a snappy "Ugh, fine!"
"Might want to watch the attitude a bit, kiddo. Good thing we have a nice long walk back. Plenty of time for you to cool off and rethink your tone," Anakin said reaching out to guide her toward the door.
Iyla roughly shrugged him off and rolled her eyes. "Can we at least stop by the Archives? I need to check out a holobook on advanced saber forms."
"I think you've had enough saber forms for the day."
"But it's just a book! I'm not going to be doing them. Just reading about them."
"Which you will do instead of sleeping, so, no, you're not going to check out the holobook. You're going to eat then rest."
"Oh, come on! You're being completely unreasonable! I just want to read a book!"
"And I want you to cut the attitude and do what I say," Anakin replied trying to keep his anger in check.
"I don't have to listen to you," Iyla growled. "You're not my father."
Anakin's breath caught in his throat. "What did you say?" he asked.
"I said you're not my father!" Iyla yelled chest heaving and fists clenched. "And you can stop trying to be him because you never will be."
Anakin swallowed heavily and deflated a bit. "Iyla," Anakin said reaching out.
"Just…just leave me alone. Please," she whispered, the last word trailing off in a strangled sob.
"I can't do that, sweetheart," Anakin replied kneeling down to her level.
Iyla, chest still heaving and eyes shining, brought her hands around her middle and curled into herself.
"I'm not going to leave you alone, Iyla. I promised Obi-Wan that I'd take care of you while he can't and I take that promise very seriously."
Iyla sniffled and shifted slightly closer to him.
"And no amount of acting out on your part is going to change that either," he said squeezing her shoulder.
Iyla reached up to wipe her eyes and nodded silently. "Sorry," she whispered. "I just want him back."
"I know, kiddo. I do too."
A hiccup sounded from Iyla as she stepped forward and buried her head in his shoulder.
Anakin's heart broke as he rubbed her back and stroked her head. It was clear to everyone that Iyla was suffering, burying herself in training and her classes. She was headed towards a collapse and Anakin and Padme were trying everything they could to prevent that from happening.
There hadn't been a word or whisper from Qui-Gon in nearly two weeks and Iyla was hanging by a thread that was getting thinner and thinner with each day that passed. As Anakin dried Iyla's tears and gently guided her back home, he prayed to the Force that Qui-Gon would find an answer soon, before the thread snapped completely.
Someone was crying.
Loud, choked, hiccupping, sobs that pierced straight through his heart and woke him up from a deep sleep. He gasped as he untangled from the blankets and pushed himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
"Darling?" he heard a sleepy voice ask from next to him. "Another nightmare?" the concern in the voice had him turning to it.
"Just a small one, love," he said reassuringly. "I need to clear my head a bit. Go for a walk and get some fresh air."
"Want me to come?"
Obi-Wan chuckled. "No, my dear. Go back to sleep. I'll be alright."
"Don't be out too late, Obi," Satine said in a stern yet sleepy voice.
"I won't," he replied leaning over to kiss her cheek and stroke her belly. "Goodnight, my dear ones," he whispered before slipping from the room.
The air outside was cold but soothing to his sweaty brow. The fresh air helped calm him and he focused on the breeze as it swept through the trees, anchoring him and clearing his mind. He closed his eyes, reveling in the Living Force that permeated the space. Even after all these years the Room of a Thousand Fountains never failed to ground him.
Obi-Wan sat in his usual spot under a tall tree near the base of the largest fountain and allowed himself to lean into the Force hoping to find peace for his anxious mind.
Immediately he heard it again. The heart-broken cries and whimpers that shook him to his core. It was a child. A grieving child desperately crying for someone. He sunk further into the Force and reached out hoping to find the source and offer comfort if he could.
He felt a tug in his mind and startled in surprise. He had a connection to this child. He reached out in invitation but was met with no response. The cries continued, this time with hiccupping words being spoken in between sobs.
"Papa, please. P-Please wake up. I…I c-can't do this anymore. I n-need you, Papa. Come back, p-please!"
Papa? Obi-Wan's mind raced and his alarm grew. The shaky whispers continued.
"You can't l-leave me, Papa. I can't live without y-you. Pl-please, P-Papa, please. I n-need you!" The whispers faded into a sob as the desperate cries grew louder and more urgent.
Obi-Wan rose to his feet and looked around in a panic. He knew that voice. It was Iyla. She needed him. Urgently and desperately. She sounded terrified. She was reaching out to him through the Force and he had to help her.
He kept a quick and steady pace back through the temple and up to his quarters, heading straight for the room adjacent to his. He stood outside the door and listened for her cries but heard none. Her distress must be in the Force then which was even more alarming.
Without hesitation Obi-Wan opened the door and rushed to the bed ready to comfort. But all he saw was a peacefully sleeping child, no sign of panic or fear. Not quite convinced that she wasn't still suffering in the Force, he reached out and stroked her cheek.
"Iyla, love?" he said. "It's alright, my darling. I'm here. Papa's here now."
The little girl stirred and blinked at him in confusion.
"P'pa?" she asked. "What're you doin' here?"
"You called out to me. In the Force. You were crying and begging for me. So I came to help you," he explained as he smoothed down her wild curls.
"I wasn't cryin'."
"Perhaps you were through the Force, subconsciously. Did you have a bad dream?"
"No, Papa. I'm fine."
Obi-Wan frowned in confusion. "Are you sure? Shall we meditate to be safe?"
Iyla groaned and flopped over. "Don't wanna meditate. Wanna sleep."
"But darling."
"I'm fine. Besides, I'm a big girl now. Nearly nine. I don't always need my Papa to help me anymore," Iyla protested then turned away.
He stared at the back facing him in shock. Didn't need him? But hadn't she just pleaded for that very thing? Sobbed and begged and cried for him to not leave her?
Iyla's breaths evened and soon she was back asleep, blissful and at peace. Obi-Wan reached out to the bond he'd felt screaming at him before but was met with only silence.
Troubled and confused, he left the room and returned to his bed. As he slipped beneath the blankets and cuddled close to Satine, he could just barely feel a pull on his mind that gave him the feeling that something wasn't quite right. But his brain grew foggy and exhaustion took over before he could linger on it.
The machines beeped in a steady rhythm that was both soothing and irritating. Soothing because it meant her Papa was still alive but irritating because it meant he was still asleep. As he had been for almost a month already.
As much as the grown-ups thought they were being subtle and secretive, Iyla wasn't stupid. She knew things were looking bleak. There was no reason for her Papa to still be asleep and the longer he stayed that way the less of a chance there was of him waking up again.
Even worse was the knowledge that he didn't want to wake up. Because he was in a perfect world with a perfect Iyla and had no reason to come back to a broken and flawed one.
She'd been trying as hard as she could to be as perfect as possible but it wasn't working. She should have known it wouldn't. She'd never been one to live up to expectations. She'd always been a disappointment. It wasn't so easy to change what she was.
Iyla settled down into the chair next to the bed and took out the holobook she'd been reading to her Papa every evening. She pulled up the page she left off on and began to read.
As she read her Papa continued to sleep. No reaction to the plot twist, no comments on the overly used fantastical themes, no lessons interspersed, nothing. Just the sound of the machines and a steady beeping of the heart monitor.
About the time Iyla's eyes grew heavy, she saved her place and shut down the datapad then slipped it in her bag.
"You know, Papa. That detective who uncovered the plot to kill the king wasn't completely wrong about the bounty hunter. The motive behind it was one of a moral dilemma. I know what you're going to say though. 'I guess that is correct, from a certain point of view,'" Iyla said imitating him and flashing him a smile fully expecting a snarky one directed back at her but the smile died on her lips when she was met with silence, closed eyes, and a blank face.
Iyla's gaze fell down to her lap as she twisted her fingers and clutched at the hospital blanket covering her Papa's legs. She moved her hand to take his and held it tight as she stroked her thumb over his knuckles. A comforting gesture for her that she hoped translated to him as well.
"I'm taking the Initiate Trials tomorrow," she spoke up casually. "I know I already took them and you said I did well but I wanted to try again. Maybe I'll actually get a Master this time. And maybe I'll finally perfect my saber forms. Uncle Anakin said I was the best in my age group but I know there's always room to improve. A good student never stops learning, right, Papa? That's what you always say.
"I've been practicing a lot and I think I have them nearly perfect. I've been reading about different theories as well. Master Nu said I've exhausted her inventory on saber techniques but I think there's still a few more for me to read. Or at least I'll just finish the ones I have. That should be enough for now. I'm going to do one more training session tonight and possibly one in the morning too. But don't worry, I'll be fine for the trials," Iyla reassured him.
"Everyone is really worried about you, Papa. And we miss you a lot. I miss you a lot. The grown-ups think they're sneaky but I know things are bad. I know you aren't doing well. But, I think I'm close to figuring out how to fix it. I think I can get you to wake up soon. I have a plan and I think it might work. You're going to be so proud of me, Papa, just you wait and see. You'll be so proud you'll want to come back right away. I promise. Now, I need to go train then rest, and I suppose I should eat so Auntie Padme and Uncle Anakin don't lecture me," she said rolling her eyes.
She placed his hand at his side and tucked his blanket closer around him to ensure he didn't get too cold. Standing up from her chair she stepped closer to him and stared down at his face for a second. She reached out to stroke his hair and beard then leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead.
"I love you, Papa. Please wake up soon," she whispered softly.
Iyla lingered for a moment longer, closing her eyes and praying to the Force that her plan would work.
This was it. Her plan was really going to work. She pulled it off and all of her hard work was going to be worth it. She'd placed first in all saber competitions and exercised great control over herself and her emotions. She was as near perfect as she was going to get and she had a feeling that this time was going to be the time.
Iyla stood calmly and properly as a young Jedi should lined up next to the other Initiates who participated in the trial, each of them eager and apprehensive to see if they'd finally be chosen.
Every time a Master approached the line she held her breath in anticipation. She wasn't the first chosen. Which was fine. She didn't need to be first. She wasn't the second chosen. That was fine too. She wasn't the third either. Totally fine. No need to panic. But, as each Initiate was chosen Iyla grew more and more anxious. She smiled kindly at them as they excitedly walked off with their new Masters and held her head high each time she was passed over. She pushed the tears down as she watched even the younger ones get chosen. There's no shame in being chosen last, a voice in her head told her, sounding suspiciously like her Papa.
But there is shame in not being chosen at all.
Which is exactly what happened. Eventually the line of Masters looking to accept Padawans dwindled and then disappeared completely leaving only a mere four Initiates without someone. One of which was Iyla.
She distantly heard Master Windu thanking everyone for coming and congratulating all participants on a job well done but Iyla disregarded it. There was nothing 'well done' about winning every saber competition and still being left without a Master. Once again she'd failed even when she'd succeeded. She'd been as perfect as she possibly could have been and she still couldn't do it. She was still a disappointment.
Iyla couldn't help hanging her head in shame as her friends and family came to greet her and congratulate her, offering praise and kind words that went in one ear and out the other.
"That was amazing, Iyla," Shona said. "You achieved the best score in nearly a decade! Well done!"
"It doesn't matter," Iyla mumbled.
"Of course it does! You'll get your name in the record books," Flynn said excitedly.
"No one cares about record books, Flynn," Iyla snapped.
"Yes, they do, that's a big deal."
"Record books don't get you a Master, obviously," she growled. "But you wouldn't care about that because you already have one."
"Whoa, chill out. You still have plenty of time to get a Master, Iyla," Flynn said.
"No, I really don't!"
"Sure you do, kiddo. It's not too late," Anakin soothed.
"But it might be, Uncle Anakin!" Iyla replied frantically.
"What do you mean, little one?" Plo asked.
"It was supposed to work. This was supposed to work! I…I thought…but…I-I f-failed and…" Iyla's breathing was notching up and she was gasping in between words.
"Iyla, sweetheart, you didn't fail," Padme said stroking her hair.
"But I did! I couldn't do it. I tried so hard but I couldn't! It didn't w-work! I…I…"
She felt someone grab her hands and place them on their chest and she fought against the hold. She didn't deserve the comfort. She had failed them all. And she had failed him.
"Iyla?" someone called but she wasn't listening, too absorbed in her own fear and panic.
"I just w-wanted him to be proud," she whispered. "But now he's n-never gonnna…he's never…"
"Iyla, listen to me," the same voice pleaded with her. It sounded like her Uncle Anakin.
"I'm s-sorry. I c-couldn't do it. I c-couldn't b-bring him back. I just want h-him b-back," she broke off in a sob, clutching at her hair and sinking to the floor.
She didn't notice the arms pulling her to a warm chest and the shushing sound of the familiar voice trying to get her to calm down before she had a full blown panic attack. All she could think of was that her plan didn't work. She didn't get a Master. She didn't make her Papa proud. And he wasn't ever coming back.
"Iyla, breathe."
Iya shook her head and tried to escape the arms that held her. "No! 'M a failure. Disappointment. Worthless. Broken," she said. "Just wanted to be perfect. Need to be perfect. For Papa. Papa won't come back if I'm not p-perfect. Gotta…gotta be…"
"Oh, sweetheart," Padme whispered.
Suddenly it was all too much. The people around her, the sinking feeling of failure and disappointment swirling in her stomach, the loud and overwhelming pity pressing on her Force signature. It was suffocating. She couldn't…she couldn't breathe. She had to get out.
With a forceful shove at the hands touching her shoulder and stroking her hair she scrambled to her feet. She took one last wild glance around the room at the worried and concerned looks staring back at her. Then she ran.
Obi-Wan nearly staggered to the floor. The pain in his head was overwhelming. Thankfully he was alone in the hallway so as not to concern anyone else. His mind was screaming at him. Well, actually it wasn't his mind, but someone else's. He was pretty sure it was the one who'd called out to him a few days ago. The one who sounded just like Iyla but somehow wasn't Iyla.
That incident had unsettled him and he had to spend a few extra hours in meditation each morning since, which frustratingly yielded no answers or results. In fact, it felt almost as if he couldn't get an answer no matter how hard he tried. Like there was something blocking him. But every time he started to think about that something would always come up to distract him or take his mind off of it.
He frowned and shook his head slightly to dispel his puzzling thoughts. He had a dinner to get to. A celebratory dinner for him and Satine. They found out a few weeks ago that Satine was pregnant and they were overjoyed. A new member of their family being added and a new bond to be formed in his heart and mind forever. They told their friends and family who immediately decided to throw them a congratulations party.
Obi-Wan smiled at the thought. Which was weird because he usually hated parties. Especially when he was the center of attention. But tonight he'd let it all be about Satine and he'd merely tag along. After all, it was her that would be bringing the new little one into the world, not him.
He could hear the laughter, music, and chatter as he got closer to the room and his heart warmed and swelled. He allowed the feelings to overtake him in hopes that his mind would soon follow since he still felt the faint sorrow and desperation he'd been trying to meditate away for days. The warmth worked a bit on dulling the pain although it didn't leave completely. But at least it was better, so he allowed himself to push it away to deal with later. Now, he had a party to attend.
A loud cheer rose up as he entered the room and various friends came to hug him, grasp his shoulders, and playfully punch him (mostly Quinlan, Garen, and Reeft). Someone handed him a drink and food was shoved into his other hand. He was led to a chair by Anakin and directed to "sit down and relax for once."
The women were congregated around Satine gushing and patting her belly while Bo hovered in the background looking torn between staying and appearing to be interested or going to start a drinking contest with the troopers. After a few minutes the call of alcohol won out and she slipped away from the group.
Obi-Wan allowed himself to sit, eat, drink, and observe as his family and friends celebrated around him. Yes, the celebration was for him and Satine, but everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves as well. The Force was full of light, warmth, and joy and he found himself sinking further and further into it with a smile on his face. He spotted Iyla in the corner dancing and laughing with her cousins as they took turns spinning and bouncing around to the music. Soon their trio would be a quartet and he couldn't wait to see how their bond would grow and strengthen to include another.
The music and chatter quieted down when Satine stepped into the middle of the room and said she had an announcement. She pulled a hand out for Obi-Wan to join her and he found himself drawn to her bright smile and glowing presence.
"Thank you all for setting this up," she said. "Obi and I appreciate it and are so grateful for your love and support."
Satine threaded her fingers in his and squeezed their hands together. "We cannot thank you enough for coming alongside us and taking this journey with us. And…" she paused. "We hope that you will continue to walk with us after we welcome our son into the world."
There was a short silence before the room erupted in cheers again and everyone raised their glasses in celebration.
Obi-Wan felt Satine squeeze his fingers again and he turned to look at her in awe. A son? He was going to have a son. His throat thickened and his eyes misted as he shakily put his free hand on her stomach.
"A son," he whispered shakily.
"Yes, my love. A son," Satine whispered back, cupping his face with her other hand and rubbing her thumb along his cheek.
"A son!" he chuckled madly and drew her forehead to his own.
"A son," she repeated smiling widely then moved her lips to his in a passionate kiss.
Whistling rose up from the crowd around them, mostly lead by Anakin and Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan relished in the sheer joy saturating the Force around him.
Satine eventually let him go and he was quickly pulled in by his friends and congratulated again. Quinlan started advocating for the boy to be named Quin while Garen argued that giving him a name like that would only scar him and mark him for constant trouble.
"You're one to talk, Muln," Quinlan quipped and soon their verbal match turned into elbowing and head locks while the troopers egged them on and cheered.
Anakin rolled his eyes and pretended the actions were beneath him even though Obi-Wan knew he'd do the same in Quinlan and Garen's positions. His Padawan threw an arm around his shoulders and led him to a table to pour him a drink.
"You know, I've always been partial to the name Anakin, myself. It's distinguished and has a great reputation," he winked.
"I'm not naming my son after you, Anakin. That would be damning the poor boy before he even has a chance," Obi-Wan teased. "Plus, there's only room for one Anakin in this galaxy, and trust me, that's enough."
Anakin stuck his tongue out at him and shoved him before smiling and pulling him into a side hug again. "Can you believe it, Obi-Wan? You and Satine? With an amazing daughter and a soon-to-be son? I mean, it's almost too good to be true, right? Like a fantasy," he said with a smile.
Obi-Wan was about to return the smile before another pain shot through his head. Fantasy. He'd heard that word before. Spoken by his Master. But yet, not his Master. But it really did look and sound like his Master.
You can't stay in this fantasy forever, his not-Master had said.
But, it's not a fantasy. It's real. Everything here was real.
Obi-Wan winced as a pressure grew in his head. Anakin gave him a concerned look and touched his arm to steady him.
"Obi-Wan? Are you alright?"
Obi-Wan forced a smile and straightened up. "Yes, yes, I'm alright. Sorry. Just a bit too much to drink, probably," he lied.
Anakin didn't look like he bought it either as he side-eyed the nearly full glass in Obi-Wan's hand but thankfully he let it slide and gave his arm a friendly squeeze instead of commenting further.
The party eventually dwindled down and people started filing out of the room, offering the happy couple one last congratulations and a hug before the only people left were Anakin, Padme, Obi-Wan, Satine, and three sleepy kids. Luke and Leia were carefully scooped up and the Skywalker-Amidala family quietly took their leave.
Obi-Wan watched as Satine gently guided a groggy Iyla to her room to get settled for the night. He felt the cool air rush into the room from the open door and made his way out to the balcony. Now that the celebrations had ceased and silence reined, the tug on his mind became more persistent.
The sadness settled into his mind and he felt it deep in his soul. But he shouldn't be sad. He has a wonderful life. An amazing wife, a beautiful daughter, and a precious little son on the way. His heart tried to reason with his melancholy mind but they were currently locked in a duel in which neither had the advantage.
A smooth silky hand threaded into his and startled him out of his thoughts.
"You looked like you actually enjoyed yourself tonight," Satine chuckled. "I thought you weren't one for parties?"
"Mmm, yes. I'm not usually. But it was a very special and wonderful occasion that we were celebrating," he smiled and reached out a hand to touch her belly again.
"Yes, it was wasn't it? A fitting celebration for our soon-to-be son," she replied placing her hand over his. "You know, when I was tucking Iyla in, I couldn't stop thinking about how lucky we are."
"Darling, you know I don't believe in luck," Obi-Wan teased.
"I know, I know, but think about it. Think about the life we have. The life we've built. We have an amazing family, cyar'ika. A wonderful little ad'ika and another one on the way. I mean, it's perfect, don't you think? Sometimes I can scarcely believe it's real," Satine chuckled.
This isn't real. No one here is real. The voice of his not-Master was back.
He brought a hand to his head and massaged his temples. The insistent tugging and deep sorrow was back. Kriff his head hurt. What was going on? Where were these voices coming from?
"Obi?" Satine asked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm-"
"If you say 'fine,' Obi-Wan Kenobi, I swear I'll drag you down to the Halls myself," she answered with a stern look.
Obi-Wan had seen this look many times on his wife and on his daughter. He huffed out a laugh and gave in.
"Ok, ok," he conceded. "I've been having these weird headaches and hearing…voices," he said a bit sheepishly.
Satine cocked her head in confusion. Another trait Iyla shared with her.
"And there's been this…tugging of sorts on my mind. It's been very insistent. Nearly constant. And it's been…sad, desperate, screaming out. It's just very unsettling."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Satine asked looking at him with concern in her eyes.
"I thought I could figure it out on my own. With meditation and following the thread in my mind. But it hasn't been working. Every time I try it's like there's this…wall. Like something doesn't want me to figure it out."
Obi-Wan watched as Satine's eyes clouded over a bit and her jaw clenched. But the moment was gone before he could think on it anymore.
"Perhaps a visit to Master Yoda would help," she suggested. "He's always been able to help you in times like these."
Obi-Wan smiled and kissed her. "That's a wonderful idea. Thank you, my love."
"You're welcome," Satine smiled. "Now, time for bed, my darling. It's been a long and exciting day."
Obi-Wan hummed in response and kissed her neck playfully.
"Ok, hotshot, save it for the bedroom," Satine said rolling her eyes as she led him from the balcony and back into their quarters.
Iyla ran in no particular direction. Pure panic and fear guided her steps through the hallways and down sets of stairs not even noticing the people she passed by. Their bewildered looks didn't matter, nor did their slight disapproval of her hurried state. Nothing mattered anymore. Her Papa wasn't coming back because she wasn't good enough and she had failed him. Again.
Her feet came to an abrupt stop next to an old tree with a twisted trunk and she slid down to sit at the base of it. She was in a garden, that much was clear, but it wasn't the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It was a smaller garden on a different level. One she couldn't remember ever going to before. Thankfully it was empty and she could have some privacy.
Privacy for what, she wasn't sure. But she was grateful for it all the same. A hiccupping gasp fell from her lips and she put a hand to her chest in an effort to still her heart. Choked sobs came pouring out of her with such ferocity that it startled her for a second.
Oh. Oh. This was why the garden being empty was a good thing. She needed the privacy. The privacy to breakdown.
Iyla let out a keening sound and drew her knees to her chest. She buried her head in her knees and clutched at her hair tugging on it tightly. She recognized that she was completely losing it in the middle of this unknown garden all alone without anyone to comfort her but she didn't care.
She didn't deserve comfort. And she didn't want it. Not if it wasn't her Papa comforting her. Which it could never be and would never be again. Because he wasn't coming back. Because of her.
Heart-broken and desperate words started tumbling out and she barely recognized what she was saying, her brain so overwhelmed and exhausted that every thought escaped.
"I-I'm so sorry, Papa! I tr-tried so hard but I just…p-please wake up. I…I c-can't do this anymore. I n-need you. Come back, p-please! You can't l-leave me, Papa!"
Iyla's cries became more urgent and desperate as words started to jumble and harsh panting made it difficult to talk.
"P-P'pa. I…I…s-s-sorry. I c-cn't...c-could't…" she was nearly hyperventilating now, unable to catch her breath and unable to stop her sobs.
She clutched tighter at her hair and buried her face deeper into her knees. She'd probably pass out at this rate, her heart and lungs working much too fast to regulate themselves. That's how Master Che had described it at least when she asked why she always got dizzy and couldn't breathe during her panic attacks. Knowing what exactly happens to her body had comforted her at the time. Like she had an advantage over the situation. Not like now. Now there was no advantage. She could do nothing more than allow her over-strained lungs and heart to wear themselves out as she sat curled up on the grass.
When she felt herself nearly giving in to lightheaded bliss, a warm presence completely enveloped her and held on tight. It didn't feel human as it didn't feel like skin holding her arms and cradling her head. Cautiously she peeked up from her knees and saw only blue.
"Peace, little one," the deep voice spoke.
"G-Gr'pa Qu-Qui?" she whispered.
"It's alright, love. Shhh, you're alright."
Iyla shook her head. She wasn't alright. Nothing was alright.
"B-But," she choked out.
"Breathe, Iyla. You must breathe," her grandpa's quiet yet firm voice replied.
"C-Can't," she panted.
"Yes, you can. And you must, darling. Now, deep breath in," he instructed.
Iyla buried herself deep in his presence and finally found the will to at least try.
She let out a loud gasp and a cough as the air rushed into her lungs. More coughs and deep inhales followed.
"Good, very good, dear. Now, out."
Iyla obeyed and exhaled shakily as the tension in her muscles started to bleed away.
"Good job, little one. A few more. In and out." Qui-Gon's soothing voice flowed over her like a blanket, comforting and warm.
Slowly but surely her breathing settled into a normal rhythm and she unclenched her hands from her hair.
"There you go, good girl," he praised, his arm rubbing her back, touch slightly tingling against her spine. It was a weird sensation, as it always was when her Grandpa Qui touched her, but she leaned into it more and more.
"Why're you here?" Iyla asked as she uncurled herself.
"I heard you calling for me," he stated.
Her face scrunched up in confusion. "Wasn't calling for you."
"Maybe not directly but you were reaching out to someone. Even if you weren't aware. The Force was screaming, dear. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone on this level felt it," Qui-Gon answered.
"Oh," she said lowering her eyes in shame.
"Don't worry. No one else is coming. I made sure of that," he reassured her.
"How?"
"That's not important," he replied with a wink. "What is important is: are you alright?"
"No, Grandpa Qui. I failed," she sniffled.
"Failed? How?"
"I c-couldn't get Papa to wake up," Iyla whispered.
"Iyla, none of us could do that. What makes you think you failed any more than the rest of us?"
"Cuz, cuz I had a plan. And it didn't work. I tried so hard but I couldn't do it."
"Do what?" he asked.
"Be p-perfect," she whimpered nearly starting to sob again.
Qui-Gon went silent at her words and ceased his stroking of her back. Iyla missed the contact and drew her arms around her stomach. She'd probably disappointed him too. That's why he stopped comforting her.
"Oh, dear one," he finally said at last, his voice full of deep sorrow and pain.
"I really tried. 'M sorry," she said.
"No, love. Don't be sorry. It's not your fault, but…Iyla, little one, did you hear the conversation I had with Anakin and Healers Che and Eerin?" he asked gently.
Iyla bit her lip and nodded, eyes focused on the grass. "I was waiting to read to Papa. Like I always do. But I heard voices and…I know it's wrong to listen in on conversations but, no one was telling me anything and I just…sorry. I can't stop disappointing everyone."
Qui-Gon sighed and brought his arms up around her again. "That's not true. And it's not true that you need to be perfect. You don't need to be anything else than exactly how you are."
"But how I am isn't good enough. That's why Papa's not coming back. Because of me," Iyla insisted.
"That is not true, darling," Qui-Gon replied.
"But that's what you said. That Papa has a perfect life with a perfect me and he doesn't want to come back. I heard you say that."
"I did say that but I believe it's not that your Papa doesn't want to return. It's that he can't."
"Can't?" Iyla asked curiously now looking up at her grandpa's blue transparent face.
"I believe that there are other forces at play here that are preventing Obi-Wan from coming back. There's more to it than just a Force illusion," Qui-Gon said.
"Can you fix it?" she asked looking at him with wide and trusting blue eyes, just like her Papa's.
"I will try my best," he smiled at her. "I promise," he said stroking her cheek.
Iyla gave him a half smile and closed her eyes at his touch.
"Now," Qui-Gon said withdrawing his arms and turning to face his granddaughter. "You must find Anakin and contact Healers Che and Eerin, alright? Tell them I will meet them in Obi-Wan's room. Can you do that?"
"Yes, Grandpa Qui," Iyla said seriously.
"Good," he smiled. "Now go, little one. Quickly," he urged.
Iyla shot to her feet and took off. This time with a destination in mind and a spark of hope in her chest.
"A powerful force entity?" Vokara asked arching her eyebrow at Qui-Gon.
"We already know he's under the influence of the Force, Master Qui-Gon," Anakin replies leaning against the small side table by Obi-Wan's bed.
"Yes, that is true Anakin, however, I have reason to believe that there is another entity keeping Obi-Wan in his fantasy. One that will prevent him from coming back even if he wants to," Qui-Gon replied.
"How did you figure this out, Master?" Bant asked.
"I consulted some of my sources in the Force."
"What is there a Force Council or a Force Archives or something?" Anakin teased.
"Or something," Qui-Gon smirked back.
Vokara rolled her eyes. "Ok, so the 'Force Council' told you this might be a separate entity that has a hold of Obi-Wan's mind. Now, what can be done about it?" she asked getting back to business.
"Always keeping us on track, Vokara," Qui-Gon winked which earned him an exasperated sigh from the head healer. "To answer your question, I first need to confirm that it is a separate entity in the first place. Then, once I have confirmed it, I will fight it and bring Obi-Wan back."
"And you're sure you can do this?" Bant asked anxiously.
"I will do everything I can, Bant. I promise," Qui-Gon said gently.
He looked into her eyes and saw the young Padawan that trained under the love of his life and was always a loyal friend to his Padawan as well. How hard this must be for her. He'd do everything he could for her. For both of them. And the precious little one he'd comforted not long ago. He'd bring Obi-Wan home no matter what.
"Alright then," Vokara agreed. "We'll be here monitoring things from this end." Then she looked him straight in the eye and said, "Bring your stubborn Padawan home, Qui-Gon."
Qui-Gon nodded then walked over to Obi-Wan's bed, put a hand to his forehead, and disappeared.
Qui-Gon found Obi-Wan walking down a corridor with urgency in his step. He was clearly determined to get to wherever he was going. Qui-Gon hung back a bit, waiting for the right moment to intercept his Padawan.
Suddenly Obi-Wan stumbled and put a hand to his head and had to steady himself on a wall. Qui-Gon cocked his head curiously. Perhaps the Force was trying to get through to Obi-Wan in an effort to bring him out. This moment of vulnerability gave him the opportunity he needed.
"Obi-Wan?" he asked sliding out from behind a pillar.
"Master!" Obi-Wan replied turning to face him. "I didn't sense your presence."
"I'm sure it was difficult to do when you're in pain. Are you alright?"
Obi-Wan's face colored at being caught in such a weak moment. "I'm alright, Master," he said with a tight smile.
"You really aren't," Qui-Gon replied. "Were you on your way to the Halls?"
"Force no," Obi-Wan replied making a face.
Qui-Gon laughed and put a hand on his shoulder.
"I was headed to Master Yoda, actually," Obi-Wan explained.
"You're willingly going to Master Yoda? Whatever it is must really be bad. He's going to make you drink his tea, you know."
Obi-Wan shuddered at the thought. "Unfortunately, I think I might have to endure it. This is a matter of importance, I'm afraid."
"What is it, Obi-Wan?"
"Well, I've been hearing voices and getting these headaches. I haven't been able to find any relief through the Force, so Satine suggested I consult Master Yoda on the matter."
Qui-Gon kept his face creased with interest and concern when inside his mind was racing. So the Force was trying to reach out to him and Obi-Wan was trying to respond but he couldn't. He definitely needed to come to this meeting with Master Yoda. Lucky for him, Obi-Wan didn't seem to be able to distinguish him from the dream Qui-Gon in his fantasy so, as long as dream-Qui-Gon didn't show up, he was safe for now. Knowing himself, he was probably meditating in the garden, he thought in amusement.
"I'd like to come with you if you'll allow it. Perhaps I can lend some assistance as well," he suggested innocently.
"Oh, Master, I can't ask you to do that. I know how much you value your mediation time in the garden," Obi-Wan replied.
Qui-Gon smirked. He was correct. He reached his hand out to cup Obi-Wan's face and looked him in the eye. "I value you, much much more, my Padawan," he said.
Obi-Wan smiled shyly at him. "Alright, if you insist," he joked.
"I do," Qui-Gon replied.
The pair walked down the hall together in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. They arrived at Yoda's quarters quickly and immediately Qui-Gon noticed a shift in the Force and darkness started to creep into his Force signature. Oh yes, there was definitely something wrong here. Obi-Wan didn't seem to notice the change and appeared none the wiser about the darkness nearly seeping from the door in front of them.
Qui-Gon went on alert as Obi-Wan touched the door chime. There was no telling what would be on the other side of that door but there's no doubt that it wasn't friendly and it wasn't going to help Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon would have to do that.
An accented "enter, you may," sounded from the other side and the door slid open. Both men entered to find Master Yoda sitting on a cushion sipping from a tea cup. Upon inspection of the miniature Master, Qui-Gon didn't see anything especially dark or off about him but he could still feel the repressive feeling in the Force so he didn't let his guard down.
"Obi-Wan," Yoda greeted with a smile. "Qui-Gon," he nodded but didn't smile, in fact his eyes seemed to narrow dangerously.
Qui-Gon stared back resolutely and nodded politely at him.
"We're sorry to disturb you, Master but I am in need of some assistance. I'm afraid I've tried everything I can and need some extra help, if you're able to of course," Obi-Wan explained.
"Yes, yes, hearing voices you are and getting headaches you have been," Yoda nodded sagely.
Obi-Wan looked slightly shocked that the small Master knew his reason for coming and looked to be about to question it when a haze seemed to take over his eyes and he simply smiled, content to write it off as one of Yoda's many eccentricities.
Yoda motioned with his head toward Obi-Wan. "Take a seat," he said. The invitation wasn't extended to Qui-Gon and he seemed to pay him no mind at all.
Despite not being invited to, Qui-Gon sat down as well, keeping a keen eye on the unusual Master. He knew this wasn't really Yoda, of course. It was the dream-Yoda of Obi-Wan's conjuring. But just because Obi-Wan conjured him did not mean that there were not ill intentions filling the old Master. In fact, he was almost completely convinced that this dream-Yoda was the source of the dark entity holding Obi-Wan's mind hostage. But Obi-Wan seemed to trust this Yoda so Qui-Gon knew he had to tread lightly.
"Now, tell be about these voices, you will, hmm," Yoda spoke up interrupting Qui-Gon's musings.
"Yes, Master. The voices have been…unsettling. And confusing. And sometimes they aren't voices at all, just overwhelming feelings of things being wrong or an oppressive sorrow and desperation. I can't…I can't get them to leave. I have been trying meditation and reaching out to them but so far I haven't had any results."
"Talk to you, do they?"
"Yes. But I am unable to talk back."
"Hmm, and what do they say?"
"Well, the one that's been troubling me the most is a voice that sounds like Iyla. She's…crying and begging, telling me to 'come back' and to 'wake up' and she just starts sobbing, Master. Heart-wrenching and desperate saying that she needs me, and I…it's been so painful and so real. Like she's speaking right to my soul. I've tried to reach back and offer comfort but I am unable to. It's very distressing."
Qui-Gon's eyes widened. There was his confirmation that the Force was working to get Obi-Wan back, using Iyla to get him to wake up.
"Spoken with Iyla, have you?" Yoda asked with an unreadable expression.
"I have. She doesn't seem to know what I am talking about. The same with my Master," Obi-Wan said motioning toward Qui-Gon. "I recall a conversation we had on Naboo one night, in the estate gardens. He told me that this all was a fantasy and none of it was real and he said the same thing. That I need to 'come back' but I don't know where I'm meant to go back to."
"And recall this conversation, did your Master?" Yoda asked still not looking at Qui-Gon.
"No. He also didn't seem to know what I meant. And there's been other times when I've heard his voice or felt Iyla's sorrow and I feel like the Force is trying to speak to me but I cannot get through. That's why I was hoping for your help, Master. Perhaps if we all meditate together, we can get some answers," Obi-Wan suggested.
"Hmm, meditate with you I will. But your Master, stay he cannot."
Obi-Wan looked puzzled. "Why not?"
"Needed, he is not."
"But Master Yoda, surely having another Master here will be beneficial. And Qui-Gon is very attuned to the Living Force. I'm sure his abilities will prove valuable."
Yoda's eyes flashed dangerously and he fixed Qui-Gon with a feral look. "Leave now, you will, Qui-Gon," he said venomously.
"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Master," Qui-Gon replied firmly.
Obi-Wan stared on in confusion. "It really is fine with me if Qui-Gon stays, Master Yoda. In fact, I'd like him to."
"Stay he will not!"
"Master, I don't understand," Obi-Wan started to say before an intense pain sent him keeling over. He cried out and grabbed his head nearly screaming in agony.
"Stop this at once," Qui-Gon commanded of the dark entity. "Release him! Now!"
"Leave, Jedi!" The dark entity screamed, no longer looking like Yoda and no longer trying to hide.
Qui-Gon now knew that the entity recognized him as a part of the Force and not the Qui-Gon created for the fantasy. Clearly it wasn't happy he was here and saw him as a threat.
Obi-Wan cried out again as the entity focused its attention to the younger man. "You will no longer listen to the voices, Jedi. They are wrong. Your wife was wise to send you to me. Her control over you was slipping. All of their control was slipping. I am the only one who can make it right."
Qui-Gon watched in horror as the entity drew closer to his Padawan and touched his head. "This is real. There is no fantasy. And nowhere to go back to. You belong here, Obi-Wan. And here you will stay," it growled and hissed.
Obi-Wan's head was turned to look at the looming figure and a dullness was slowly seeping into his eyes as he started to give in to the voice and the words. The Force around them was oppressive and heavy and Qui-Gon could feel the murky darkness filling the room. The Light was being pushed out and Qui-Gon needed to get it back.
Without thinking about his own abilities and whether or not they extended to Force fantasies, he rushed toward the figure with his hand outstretched, forcing it away and keeping it at bay.
Obi-Wan gasped in relief at the loosening of the dark hold on him. He watched in awe as his Master fought against the dark figure that had once been Master Yoda. He could feel the light coming from Qui-Gon and being infused into his very being. For the first time in a very long time, the Force was opening up to him. He was thinking clearly. Questioning what he'd seen and experienced since he'd arrived in this place. Things that never seemed to feel right or make sense but that he wasn't able to pursue further.
The voices plaguing his head became louder but instead of intense pain, he felt clarity and determination. He had to get back. He wasn't sure where he'd gone in the first place but he had to get back. His little one was calling for him. She was desperate for him. How could he have left her alone? How could he have let her suffer?
Obi-Wan locked eyes with Qui-Gon and the older man communicated something through the Force even as he fought to against the dark entity. Go. He said. Wake up, Obi-Wan.
"But I don't know how, Master," he said. His blue eyes met Qui-Gon's and suddenly he looked like the scared and uncertain child he'd brought back to the temple all those years ago. Doubting, unsure, terrified.
"I'll hold the darkness. You go back," Qui-Gon grunted.
" But how? And…what about you?"
Qui-Gon's eyes softened a bit. "Do not worry for me, little one. I am already part of the Force. But you are not yet. You must go back. You must wake up, my Padawan."
Obi-Wan looked ready to protest again but Qui-Gon reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. "I will help you, Obi-Wan," he said. His hand moved to Obi-Wan's forehead and his eyes closed.
Obi-Wan felt a tugging on his mind and the feeling of being pulled away. In fact, he was being pulled away. The scene of Qui-Gon battling the entity grew smaller and smaller as Obi-Wan floated back to wherever he had come from before. Back to a hurting and aching little girl who needed him.
A blaring alarm and a heaving gasp startled the three occupants of the small healing room. Anakin winced but jumped into action in an effort to calm Obi-Wan down and bring his panic to a manageable level. Vokara and Bant were hurrying around to the various machines making adjustments and frantically pushing buttons. Obi-Wan's eyes were wide and he was pushing against Anakin's hands frantically. Just when they were ready to sedate him to keep him from hurting himself and others, he suddenly went limp and sank back into the bed.
Anakin was panting but didn't move to take his hands off Obi-Wan's shoulders should he decide to start fighting against him again. He watched the blue eyes regain their calm and the panic recede from his limbs. Slowly he was coming back to himself.
Obi-Wan turned his exhausted eyes to Anakin and stared at him lazily before breaking into a smile. "Hello there," he grinned.
"Took you long enough, Master," Anakin quipped and chuckled.
Obi-Wan huffed out a laugh then immediately closed his eyes and slumped back against the pillow. Anakin couldn't help the fear the crept into him at the sight of his Master once again being asleep.
"Don't worry, Skywalker. It's a normal sleep cycle this time. Whatever had a hold of him seems to have let go. After sufficient rest he will wake up, I promise," Vokara said guiding the younger man off of the bed to sit down in a chair.
Anakin nodded wordlessly and settled heavily into the firm cushion of the chair. His relief at seeing Obi-Wan awake stole his focus away from an important thought that crossed his mind.
Where was Master Qui-Gon?
For some unknown reason, Iyla found herself nervous as she stood outside her Papa's healing room. Anakin had contacted Padme once Obi-Wan woke up the second time and Iyla had nearly dropped her dinner in her haste to get down to the Halls. Now though, she stood frozen in front of the door strangely apprehensive about facing him. He'd just come back from his perfect world and his perfect daughter and now he'd be forced to settle for her. What if he didn't want her back? Iyla fiddled with her hands and twisted her fingers in her shirt anxiously.
Calm down, she chided herself. Her Papa could probably feel her fear. Already she was disappointing him with her unstable emotions. No doubt the Iyla in his perfect world wasn't this weak.
Before she could fall further into her self-doubt, the door swished open and Vokara Che came out shaking her head and muttering something about a 'stubborn bantha-head.' The Twi'lek healer stopped short when she nearly ran into Iyla.
"Oh, apologies, young one. I didn't see you there," she said then cocked her head slightly taking in the wide eyes and fretting hands. "You must have been the unsettled presence we felt. Is everything alright?"
"Y-Yes, Master. I'm just here to see Papa. If…if he wants to see me that is," she replied uncertainly.
Vokara looked surprised. "Of course he does. He hasn't stopped asking for you since he woke up. Been driving myself and Skywalker up a wall," she smirked.
"Really? He's been asking for…me?"
Vokara studied the girl for a moment before resting a hand on her shoulder. "Go on, little one. It will be ok," she said gently.
Iyla nodded and gave her a tiny smile before turning to face the door. She took a deep breath and went to push the button but the doors opened before she had the chance.
"There you are, kiddo. We've been waiting for you," Anakin said popping his head out of the door. "Obi-Wan kept saying he sensed you but you weren't coming in so we thought maybe it was his Force connection acting up again. It's been a bit wacky since he woke up. Anyways, come on in."
Iyla felt herself being led into the healing room and had to force herself to be calm and collected. The last thing her Papa would want to see is a panicking daughter after he'd just left a perfect one behind.
"Darling!" Her Papa's happy voice greeted her as she walked over to the bed.
She thought she'd be excited and happy to see her Papa sitting up and actually awake. She thought she'd run to him with a huge smile and throw her arms around him. She thought hearing his voice again would be the best sound she'd ever heard in her life.
She didn't once think that she'd start sobbing and shaking.
She should have figured though. She'd been doing that a lot lately. Breaking down. Being weak. Disappointing everyone.
She felt herself being guided into a chair and a warm hand coming to rest on her back. She heard her Papa's concerned questions and her Uncle's frazzled replies. Iyla was trying so hard to calm down and get herself under control but the strain of the past month had finally caught up with her.
The hand on her back started rubbing circles and her hands were taken in larger calloused one, a thumb gently gliding over her knuckles. Those were her Papa's hands. She'd know them anywhere.
"Alright, darling. It's ok," his soothing voice said.
She felt her Force signature being flooded with feelings of peace, calm, light, and safety and she let it fill her up, desperately grasping for it and drinking it in hungrily. She had to pull it together. Her Papa won't want her if she couldn't pull herself together. Finally her sobs turned to sniffles and her wheezing turned to shaky breaths.
The hand on her back pulled away and moved to stroke her head instead. "There you go, kiddo," Anakin said from behind her, his fingers tangling in her waves. Iyla closed her eyes and leaned into the touch, one she'd become used to over the past month when her Papa wasn't around to comfort her or talk her down from her panic attacks, which, unfortunately had become common.
Iyla opened her eyes but refused to look up at her Papa's face. She didn't want the first thing she saw in them be disappointment and annoyance.
Anakin and Obi-Wan had a silent conversation over her head and Anakin nodded silently. He leaned down to press a kiss to Iyla's head then excused himself from the room.
The pair sat there in silence as Obi-Wan continued to rub her knuckles and send her peace through the Force. There was no pressure to talk which was good because she wasn't sure if she'd even be able to in the first place. It was Obi-Wan who broke the silence instead.
"I missed you," he said quietly.
Iyla hiccupped and shook her head. "N-No, you didn't," she whispered.
Obi-Wan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Iyla, dear one, of course I did," he reassured her.
"You d-didn't come back," Iyla said.
"I tried to come back, love, but you know there were other forces involved," Obi-Wan replied.
Iyla scowled and pulled her hands from his grasp. "I'm 12 not stupid. I know why you didn't want to come back. And it wasn't because of some forces," she said spitting out the last word.
"Iyla, I…" Obi-Wan trailed off.
"You don't have to lie to me, Papa. I'm not a baby. I know that Grandpa Qui tried to get you to leave but you didn't want to. You wanted to stay in your perfect life with your perfect family and your perfect…me."
Obi-Wan looked away in guilt.
"If you really missed me you would'a tried to come back sooner. You would'a went with Grandpa Qui when he asked. But you didn't!" Iyla said raising her voice. She knew she was getting irrationally upset but she couldn't stop it.
"Iyla, I'm sorry…"
"Why didn't you want to come back?" Iyla's voice cracked, anger and tension bleeding away. "Why didn't you w-want m-me?"
"Darling, it's not like that," Obi-Wan tried to explain.
"I g-guess it does make sense. You'd rather have a p-perfect daughter instead of me."
"That's not true."
"Your Iyla probly doesn't get nightmares or p-panic attacks and she's probly best in her saber classes and got a Master right away and she p-probly always makes you proud and isn't a d-disappointment and and y-your Iyla-"
"My Iyla is sitting right in front of me," Obi-Wan interrupted her.
"No, Papa, your perfect Iyla. She's-"
"She's not real," Obi-Wan replied. "A perfect Iyla isn't real."
"I know! And it's my fault! There's never gonna be a perfect Iyla even though I tried super hard, Papa, I really did but I couldn't and you had'ta leave a better Iyla and now have to have me instead and I'm s-sorry, Papa," Iyla rambled as tears trailed down her cheeks.
Obi-Wan reached for her hand again and suddenly found himself with a lap full of preteen, face pressed against his chest and fingers clutching at his blankets. He wrapped his arms around her shaking form and held her tight, pressing kisses to her hair and resting his cheek on her head. His heart ached as each frantic and choked out "s-sorry," tumbled from her mouth.
"Oh, my little light," Obi-Wan said. "There is nothing to be sorry for. You have done nothing wrong, dear one."
Iyla didn't reply, only sniffled and wrapped her arm around him to bury herself closer to his chest.
"Can I speak honestly with you, love?"
Iyla peeked up at him curiously.
"Since you're grown up now, Papa can start talking to you like an adult, yes?"
Iyla nodded and moved her face to look at him better.
"Good, that's my big girl. Now, I'm going to tell you the truth, Iyla, alright?"
"Yes, Papa."
"When your Grandpa Qui first came to me, it is true that I…I didn't want to leave. I had your mother, I had your grandpa, I had everything I ever wanted."
"Including a better me," Iyla said quietly looking toward the blanket and playing with the hem.
"No, dear. Not a better you. A different you. A you who hadn't gone through all the terrible things you've gone through. A you who got to see your mother and be loved and raised by her. A you who didn't have to deal with trauma and pain and fear. Who wasn't-"
"Broken?" Iyla said.
"Burdened," Obi-Wan finished.
"I'm a burden?" Iyla asked biting her lip.
"No, darling. You are not a burden. But the things you have experienced and the hard times you've been through have been a burden to you and all I've ever wanted was to take that away and give you a life free from the pain. That is what I had in my Force fantasy. You were free from all of that and I didn't want to leave that because it's everything you deserve and more, my love," Obi-Wan tried to explain desperately. "Am I making sense?"
Iyla's face fell into a small frown. "So you liked that Iyla better because she didn't have bad things happen to her and she wasn't always scared and sad and nervous?"
"I didn't like her better. In fact, I'm not sure I even liked her at all."
He chuckled as he saw identical blue eyes to his own stare up at him in confusion.
"Sure, I loved her, she was my daughter…sort of. But it's the fact that she wasn't burdened that I didn't like," he explained.
"But you just said all you ever wanted was for me to not have pain and sadness. I…I'm getting kinda confused, Papa. Maybe we should make the talk less grown-up like," Iyla suggested.
Obi-Wan laughed and pulled her close. "Alright, well, I'll tell you this then. I got very sad when that Iyla didn't want to do dishes with me and wanted a droid to do it instead."
"Why?"
"Because I love doing dishes with you."
"You're weird, Papa," Iyla said. "Who likes cleaning dishes?"
"It's not the cleaning dishes part I like, darling. It's that I get to do it with you," Obi-Wan replied. "Those are some of my favorite times of day."
"It is pretty fun. 'Specially when I clean more than you and you owe me a milkshake from Dex," Iyla smiled.
"You mean when I let you win?" he smirked.
"Whatever," she said rolling her eyes. "So, you didn't like that Iyla because she wouldn't do the dishes with you and I do?"
"Yes. And, the reason we wash dishes together is because…"
"Because I don't like droids and Mrs. Huber made me think I always have to clean. But I'm better now, Papa. I'm not like that anymore."
"I know, dear. But, we continue to clean together and I would never want it any other way. You see, Iyla, our daily tradition, which came from the pain you experienced, has become something I look forward to the most. Those moments that we have together have made us closer and it's because of your burdens that they happen in the first place."
Iyla's head was tilted in interest and her eyes squinted a bit as she hung on his every word.
"That Iyla wasn't real. She wasn't my Iyla and I was foolish to think that she was. Because my Iyla is light and pure despite what she's faced. My Iyla is strong and fierce like her mother because of all she's been through. Her pain and her fear have made her who she is and she doesn't let it stop her. Because my Iyla is exactly who she needs to be and all I ever need her to be."
"Which is?"
"Perfectly imperfect," he said with a smile.
"So, I'm perfect at being not-perfect?" Iyla asked with a raised eyebrow.
"The most perfectly imperfect-est," he nodded.
"That's not even a word," Iyla laughed.
"Is so," he smiled. "I just made it up."
Iyla rolled her eyes at him and grinned. "I missed you, Papa. It was really hard without you."
"I missed you too, my little one. My real little one," he said tweaking her nose.
Iyla batted his hand away playfully then looked contemplative. "Is Grandpa Qui gonna be ok? Uncle Anakin said he didn't come back with you," she asked looking concerned.
"Don't worry, love. He'll be back. He just needs some time in the Force to recover a bit. But he'll come visit again soon and you two can go back to giving your poor Papa a hard time."
"Grandpa Qui says it's payback from when you were always causing problems as a kid."
"Grandpa Qui needs to look in a mirror," Obi-Wan grumbled.
Iyla chuckled and settled herself comfortably against his side on the bed laying her head on his shoulder and playing with the sleeve of his hospital robe. He began to hum as he ran his fingers through her hair and her eyes started to droop.
"Papa?" Iyla asked sleepily.
"Yes, darling?"
"I'm glad you came back."
"Me too."
"Even if I'm not perfect."
"I wouldn't ever want it any other way. My perfectly imperfect, little light," he replied.
"L've you, P'pa," Iyla slurred sleepily.
"I love you more, my Iyla Satine," he whispered before pulling her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and closing his eyes.
I hope you all enjoyed my angsty cheese fest and weren't too disappointed in the ending. I could have added more but it would have been way too long and prob not very good. Anyways, I have a few ideas for future chapters that hopefully won't fight me as much as this one did. I'm hoping to be able to get more written now that I have freedom so watch this space for more soon! As always, thanks for everything. I know I say it a lot, but you all really are the best!
