Chapter Text
The Initiate attacked first, lightsaber held high and ready, while dashing forward, not caring for his defence. His opponent simply sidestepped the attack, but so that he was still within radius of the young boy, who swung his blade behind him. Red met green. The young Initiate became more focused every time, their two blades collided. Ben was going VERY easy on the young one, then again, the Jedi in training was just warming up too.
Coren quickly changed to more airily manoeuvres, usually a good tactic against a taller opponent, but he was not trained enough for them. There were a lot of openings, everyone in the hall older than fifteen saw that, but the Sith did not act on them. He continued to ‘play’, for that is what Obi-Wan called it. His brother was playing, not toying, but playing with the young one. It was heart warming to see.
Almost unnoticed by everyone, a second Initiate joined the battle ground. The female Mirialan slowly made her way over to the fighting pair, with her own blue blade activated and held ready. Nobody made a move to stop her, not even the Sith, who had briefly looked in her direction, before focusing on Coren again. Short before long, the female Jedi with the green skin, had joined her Initiate colleague and the two young ones were fighting the Sith together. They were eagerly moving around, a blur for the untrained eye and the two were soon joined by more Jedi in training.
Amused did Obi-Wan watch, how his brother actually had to activate his second lightsaber in order to defend himself against the unbelievable number of Jedi Initiates and even some young Padawans. It was not their skill, but their number that had the Sith working in earnest now. Gone was the cocky smile he had undoubtedly sported – Obi-Wan knew about the smirk, only due to their bond – and it was replaced with concentration and focus.
“Having problems, brother?” Obi-Wan could not help but ask over the slightly opened mental link they shared. It was probably only open, because the Sith was concentrating on other things right now.
A huff travelled over the connection. “Whatever makes you think that, brother?” Obi-Wan was not sure if he should laugh or not.
“Oh, I don’t know. Call it a feeling,” he joked, Ben only sent him the picture of a VERY rude gesture over the bond. “Need help?”
“No... I planned to go down anyway. Let the kids have their fun,” the Sith answered and he sounded earnest and as if he too was enjoying this playful match.
“For their sake... make it theatrical.”
Ben laughed mentally. “I think I can manage that.” And why did Obi-Wan not doubt THAT for one second?
True to his words, the older Kenobi pulled out his best acting skills. He danced and played some more with the children, until he could feel their exhaustion in the Force. He himself, had barely broken in sweat – only because his clothes were too warm for such activities – but he pretended to be reaching his limit too. Small mistakes found their way in his defence, he wanted to let the children WORK for their victory, he did not just want to give it to them so freely. They would not learn anything by it otherwise. And truly, some of the older Initiates and Padawans soon discovered the mistakes he was making consciously and were starting to tell each other about it. It did not take long for everybody to aim for the openings Ben allowed, and the Sith in question had to work hard not to let his instincts take over. He wanted THEM to win after all.
The braided man made a show whenever a training saber hit him. They were on a very low setting and could not even cut through butter, but they were still very warm to the touch. Nevertheless the Sith pretended as if the training sabers were real lightsabers and whenever he was ‘hit’ by one, a pained yelp, grunt or cry escaped him. He would tumble back, barely defending against the next attack and sometimes clutching the area that was hit. And despite the marks that would have been on his body, were it a real fight, the Initiates and Padawan had yet to hit a vital spot. That is, until a certain raven haired Initiate got closer. Somehow Obi-Wan HAD expected his brother, to allow the cheeky Initiate to deliver the final blow, and really, he did.
A scream – and it sounded scarily real – echoed through the hall. Immediately everyone fell silent, despite the knowledge, that no real harm was done. The ‘wounded’ Sith stumbled backwards, his lightsaber clattering deactivated to the ground and he sunk to his knees. A shaky hand reached out to grab Coren, but the boy dodged the attempt easily and then the masked male collapsed sideways on the ground, not moving. Granted, he was still breathing, but the victorious Initiates decided to ignore the fact and broke out in loud cheer and whooping. Arms and lightsabers were raised high above their heads, hugs were exchanged and the young Coren Bane was carried by four other Initiates, who decided to present the ‘Sith Killer’ to all spectators. As soon as the joy swept over them, Masters and Knights alike, stood up and applauded. The whole spectacle was so surreal and comical. Anakin could not even believe it was real. Here were the most serious and strict Jedi in the Order, cheering at their future generation for having won a fake fight against their enemy. Yet, even though he could not quite understand it, he found himself clapping as well. What in the Force had gotten into them all? Or was it the happiness of the children?
The only person, who looked not amused, was Mace Windu and Obi-Wan impulsively decided to take actions against this. There was no way that he was going to deal with a sulking Korun Master the next few days, absolutely NO WAY, which is why he stood up and made his way towards the dark skinned Master. He leaned down and whispered something in Mace’s ear, so that nobody else was able to pick it up. Brown eyes glanced sceptical into blue-green ones, but Obi-Wan ushered him onwards.
With a suffering sigh, Mace Windu succumbed to his fate and stood up as well. He made his way onto the training ground, where the Initiates were still celebrating their victory.
He cleared his throat and immediately everyone’s attention was on him, “Jedi Knights of the Order,” he said in his best Councillor voice, “today you have shown great bravery and you have done the Order a great service in slaying the Sith.”
Obi-Wan felt Ben’s amusement through the bond and he could not help but sent some back. He just hoped they were not opening the bond too much, he did not want to share possible painful and emotional memories in the middle of a crowd.
“Your names shall be written in the archives and as a reward,” Mace paused and sent the ginger haired Jedi Master a meaningful glare, “you all shall have free treats in the cantina.” And everybody knew what THAT meant.
Obi-Wan chuckled at the enthusiasm the young generation showed while darting out of the hall, undoubtedly with a single goal in their mind. Mace would need to be quick to contact the cantina.
The food distribution followed a strict plan that was supposed to give the Jedi, especially the younger generation, everything they needed. From vitamins, over proteins to minerals and everything else a healthy body needed. Rare were the times when sweets were given out, mostly only during festivities or special occasions. And if Mace had not won the hearts of those Initiates and Padawans with his little speech, then Obi-Wan did not know what else they could do.
Now that the spectacle was over, most Knights and Masters exited the training halls as well. Only a few remained, mostly Council members and of course Anakin and Ahsoka. The young Skywalker followed his former Master on the way down to Ben, who had yet to move.
“I think it is safe to move know,” Obi-Wan spoke.
“Can’t, I’m dead.”
Anakin huffed in a mixture of disbelief and amusement, though he would never admit having felt the latter.
“What do you propose that we should do with you then?” the ginger haired Jedi Master wanted to know.
“Carry me.”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and he motioned for Anakin to grab his brother’s left leg, while he himself took the right one. Together they dragged the unmoving Sith over the floor, who had the audacity to look comfortable and satisfied.
“Not quite what I had in mind, but it serves its purpose,” the eyes behind the mask glowed. The Jedi chose not to answer that...