Chapter Text
Obi-Wan Kenobi groans as he comes to, head pounding and chained to a wall, a thin enchanted collar around his neck, and he squints into the dim darkness around him. The last thing he remembers is the smell of smoke in the air, interrupting his lessons with Master Qui-Gon. The Court Warlock had just rushed from their rooms, ordering his apprentice to head towards the infirmary to help the healers, and he had gone to follow the order when a sharp pain had exploded across the back of his skull. Now - he has no idea how long it’s been - he’s laying on the damp, packed earth of a small cell, surrounded by wet stone walls, and there’s shackles around his wrists inlaid with glowing red runes that stink of corrupted Dark Magicks, they rattle when he tugs on them, the wall giving resistance and stopping him from moving too far. There’s a constant, irritating drip of water that echoes around the cell, and it makes his already aching head feel like someone was taking a hammer to it, drilling behind his eyes and scrambling his thoughts.
There’s a shift, the sound of limbs dragging across dirt and stone, and Obi-Wan’s ears twitch as he raises his head. He can make out another body in the shadows, and he’s confused for all of a moment before glowing golden eyes blink open, and Obi-Wan’s breath stutters.
Cody.
They have Cody too.
Gold meets gray, and the young elf’s heart pounds in beat with the younger boy’s, his soul singing at the sight of its other half. He had been twelve the first time he had seen his soulmate, still tending to healing wounds left over from his brief stint into slavery, and freshly apprenticed to a Master. When he had heard his Heartsong, Obi-Wan hadn’t known what to do when faced with the one that complimented his soul best - the Crown Prince of Mandalore, a child two years his junior and the Heir to his father’s throne. Obi-Wan had known immediately that he’d have to settle for a platonic relationship with his Heartsong, because Kote Mereel would doubtlessly be expected to marry for politics, and even at twelve Obi-Wan had known that if he fell in love with the other boy, he’d only break his own heart. Unfortunately for him, as the years had passed and he’d built a solid friendship with his soulmate, it was all too easy to fall in love with the young man who had become his dearest friend.
He’s eighteen now, freshly of-age, and Cody is sixteen - likely to be betrothed soon. Cody would become King, he would marry for his Kingdom, and soon Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship under Qui-Gon would be over and he’d be heading back to the Academy, to face his trials and be sent off to his new assignment should he pass. They’d never see each other again, and it’s easier not to start anything Obi-Wan wouldn’t be able to keep. He loves too easily, and as a future Court Warlock, Obi-Wan can’t get attached.
The young man shakes himself, ignoring the pain of his throbbing head, and forces himself to slide his eyes away from the Prince’s, “Are you alright, Cody?”
Cody curses, hands flying up to the heavy collar around his neck that keeps him chained and restrained, “Bic ni skana'din.” The Prince growls, tone animalistic and consonants harsh. “Any idea where we are?”
“Somewhere underground.” The elf says blandly, and Cody huffs, rolling his eyes.
“I hadn’t noticed.” The Mandalorian snarks, making Obi-Wan chuckle, absently tugging on the chains around his wrists, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness around him. Cody’s eyes follow the movement, wolf-like in their intensity, and another growl - this one deeper and more feral - rumbles in his chest. “Are you hurt, Obi-Wan?” The young man’s song darkens with a bestial fury and pain that makes Obi-Wan’s heart rate quicken with alarm as the Prince twitches.
“Cody -” he tugs on his chains again, to test their limit, but it’s not enough to reach for him, “ - Cody, what’s wrong?” The younger boy groans in pain, doubling over, and Obi-Wan forces himself to his feet as the Prince shakes, chain rattling loudly.
“I -” Cody wheezes, golden eyes wide and pupils dilated, “ - I don’t - this isn’t right.” Before Obi-Wan’s eyes, the collar around the teenager’s neck begins to glow, molten and red, and the dark-haired Prince lets out a cry of pain.
Despite being distracted by Cody’s muffled, agonized noises, the red haired Storm Elf can still pick up the noise of armoured footsteps approaching their cell, and it’s hard to miss the sudden light flooding the area as the sconces light up. The Warlock throws himself forward to put himself forward to put himself between the Prince and whoever was coming down the hall. His magic may be blocked by the thin band of silver around his neck, but Obi-Wan is willing to fight tooth and nail if it means he’d protect Cody. Deceptively loose and ready to fight, he falters when a group of armoured warriors comes to a stop in front of the iron gate of their cell - the design is familiar.
These are Mandalorian warriors, and yet they make no move to help their Crown Prince as he writhes on the dirt floor - instead, Obi-Wan can feel their amusement radiating off of them. He can sense their dark, sadistic enjoyment of the sights and sounds of the Heir’s agony.
Behind him, Cody snarls.
“Well, well, well, welcome back to the land of the living, your highness.” The Mando’ad in the lead says mockingly, and Obi-Wan glowers at him.
“Vizsla.” Cody growls, voice rough and distorted - nearly feral. His Song is thrumming with pure hatred, “Aruetyc hut’uun!”
“Excuse me if I don’t bow.” Vizsla laughs, “But Kyr’tsad doesn’t recognize your line of Jehaat’alor as Mand’alor’e.”
“Tarre Vizsla lost.”
Vizsla just laughs, a dark, ugly thing that makes Obi-Wan shiver in disgust, “And yet here we are: the great House Mereel, cursed, and their perfect little Heir chained at my mercy. The perfect justice for my forefathers.” Then the buy’ce tilts, and Obi-Wan twitches when the enchanted crystal visor peers at him instead. “Where are my manners, we haven't greeted our guests yet - you must be Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
Behind him, chains clatter loudly, and Cody’s animalistic snarl pierces the air, his Song a rapid, protective stattico. “I don’t believe we’ve been acquainted.” Obi-Wan replies slowly, and Vizsla chuckles like he had just said something funny.
“No, we haven’t.” Vizsla says in amusement, “If I’m honest, I couldn’t care less about some pretty little elfling unless I would be getting something a little more - pleasurable - out of the experience -”
“Don’t touch him, Vizsla -”
“K’uur verdika.” Vizsla says mockingly, brushing aside Cody’s furious threats as if he were nothing more than a pest. “We don’t have time to play with children right now.” Cody curses, before letting out another strangled, canine yelp of pain that has Obi-Wan flinching, wishing he could access his magic to fix this. “Besides, I won’t be the one to touch him - that honour has been claimed by my Court Warlock.” The group of Mando’ade behind Vizsla - the Kyr’tsad - chuckle darkly, and a shiver of horror lances down his spine as Vizsla speaks next, “You remember Xanatos, don’t you elfling? He remembers you.”
Obi-Wan’s ears quiver, and his breath stutters, the chains around his wrists clattering as he reaches up to the slim ring of silver around his throat. He’s in the Bandomeer Mountains again, a magical explosive locked around his neck, the Songs of pain and suffering heavy in the air. He can’t breath and if he doesn’t get Master Jinn out, every single being who calls the mountain range their home will die.
“Bring him.” The voice is far away, but the sharp uptake of terror in Cody’s Heartsong violently pulls the young elf from his memories as the door to their cell creaks open and the Kyr’tsad guards step in and towards Obi-Wan.
“Gev!” Cody’s voice takes on a tone that Obi-Wan had never heard from him before - he’s pleading with Vizsla, begging him to stop, and Obi-Wan looks over his shoulder to meet the Prince’s wide golden eyes. “Gedet’ye Vizsla.” Glowing eyes shift to Vizsla, and Obi-Wan’s breath catches as Cody dips his head, bowing to the best of his ability with the heavy collar around his neck. The Prince shifts onto his knees as well as he can with the undercurrent of agony in his Song.
“Cody, what are you doing?” Obi-Wan hisses, ignoring the tug on his wrists as the chains are disconnected from the wall. The sixteen year old glances at him out of the corner of his eyes, expression pleading, and Obi-Wan bristles.
Vizsla raises a hand, and the Kyr’tsad guards pause - Obi-Wan can tell that the man is studying them, his emotions curious. “Tell me, Kote Mereel,” The traitor says slowly, “What is this Jetii to you? Why beg me to spare him?”
“Please, let him go.” Cody says instead, “It’s me you want; do what you will to me, but don’t hurt him.”
“Cody - don’t.” Obi-Wan chokes out, heart in his throat, and golden eyes slide to his once more. His soulmate’s Heartsong is scared, but is, as always, a dependable rhythm that sings of loyalty and determination and love that steals his breath away and makes his heart flutter.
“Ner ka’runi.” The Prince breathes, and for the barest moments it’s just the two of them. They’re no longer chained in a cell, there’s no pain, and Obi-Wan wants to go to them, to drop down beside him and hold him close as their Heartsongs sing as one.
Mine, his heart sings.
Yours, Cody’s responds.
“Well,” Vizsla’s voice rings out, darkly amused, “This is definitely a surprise.” He says, and they’re back in the Kyr’tsad prison, and the barest of flinches shakes Cody’s shoulders before pain flashes across his face and he curls in on himself with a ragged gasp. The runes on the collar were beginning to spread across the younger boy’s body, glowing against the earthen brown of his skin like flames. “You know, Tarre Vizsla’s blood curse was supposed to leave the Mereel line dar’runi.” Vizsla’s Song is sickly and fascinated. He strides past Obi-Wan to crouch in front of the groaning Prince, reaching out to grasp his dark curls hard enough to hurt, and with a jerk of his hand, he forces Cody’s head up to study his face. “Fascinating.” The man says, and Cody’s eyes flash dangerously as he bares his teeth, fangs glinting in the firelight - and they’re much longer and sharper than they usually are. “We’ll have to test the limit of the bond - tell me, have you completed it?”
“No.” Cody snarls, eyes sliding away from Vizsla’s visor to meet Obi-Wan’s once more, and there’s a different kind of pain in his Song - a longing that Obi-Wan had been trying to ignore for the last six years.
“A shame.” Vizsla says mockingly, then raises a hand to signal to his soldiers.
Within seconds, Obi-Wan finds himself hauled forwards by the chains around his wrists, and he’s forced to stagger after the Kyr’tsad knights to keep his balance and avoid falling on his face. He hears Cody let out a wordless howl and the rattling of chains, and his last sight of his soulmate is of the Prince crumbling to the ground, the skin of his face torn open and blood pooling in the dirt.