Work Text:
Jocasta set the last thing down, ready to record the conversation.
It was late enough for the diurnal jedi to be all in bed and yet too early for the nocturnal ones to be awake. In other words, they were alone.
To be sure of that, she chose to use her own office and not one of the usual rooms.
After all, you don’t see Yan Dooku cuddling a youngling every day, and since she wanted to indulge him she made sure they would not to be interrupted. The man was known as a stern Master who was allergic to anyone younger than twelve standard, and yet she could not even mock him for it.
Obi-Wan Kenobi’s smile was literally too sweet to remain indifferent. The youngling had the horrible habit of wandering outside the Creche and a lot of masters and knights got completely charmed by him over the time it took to bring him back to Crechemaster Alrisha. Both Yan and herself were part of those numbers.
Jocasta was ready to bet real credits that Obi-Wan was going to be his next padawan.
She hadn’t done it yet only because everyone in the Temple thought the same, just from the number of times Dooku found him wandering compared to others. If they could see what was happening now…
Her office had a little window that looked over Coruscant’s higher levels, but the city’s lights weren’t powerful enough to reach in. They had been in front of it for the last half an hour, in silence.
Yan was still wearing his usual clothes, meaning that he had been still in the holocron halls when the Crechemaster called him. He looked like he always did, perfectly groomed and without a wrinkle on his garments.
Unlike little Obi-Wan.
The child was in his sleeping tunic, old and ruined from too many washing, his copper hair completely disheveled and falling on his face, unable to actually hide his red puffy eyes. When Yan got to the Creche Obi-Wan ha been wailing and even if now he was calmer, his occasional sobs were still heart-wrenching.
The Master was cradling Obi-Wan, letting the child hide his face against his neck, as he murmured words she couldn’t understand.
Jocasta checked all the cables one last time, then sighed.
She could not stall more. It was to be done.
“Yan…”
He didn’t answer but he came closer to the table. At her gesture he sat on the only chair present, settling Obi-wan in his lap. The child let him do it without moving his face.
Jocasta started the recording.
“Melona the 5th, 7923 CRC.” she said with a neutral tone “Recording of a vision of the future by Obi-Wan Kenobi, age 3.”
The child whimpered, clenching his hand on Yan’s collar.
“Obi-Wan, I need you to tell me what you saw.”
“…No.”
It was said so soft that she barely heard it.
Yan started massaging his back, drawing soothing circles with his palm “We need to know it, so when the time comes we’ll be able to avoid whatever scared you so badly.”
“Mmmh.”
“Obi-Wan.” the man spoke a little more firm, but still gently “I know you are brave enough to tell it out loud. It’s not here yet, nothing can hurt you inside the Temple, little one.”
The boy grumped - a sound all the youngling learned from Master Yoda - but in the end he sat properly against Yan’s chest, showing the video his face without letting his grasp go.
Dooku smiled at him and Obi-Wan chose to look somewhere near Yan's liver.
“There were a lot of men, they wore the same white thing but with different color on. They all looked the same but they felt different. Like Tiplee and Tiplar.”
Jocasta tried to recall the names, maybe some book characters or a story or…
“The mikkian twins in your clan?”
“Yes.”
Oh, ok. So a lot of twin-like men. She mentally noted to tease him about knowing Obi-Wan’s crechemates’ names later…
He probably felt her thought because he glared at her over the child’s head before resuming his massage “Go on, little one.”
“They felt safe. And warm. Like Master Alrisha does. Like if they’re my friends.” Obi-Wan’s face got distorted with fear “But then they stopped and they were empty and cold and angry at me. The white and orange one said something and I started falling and then the Force was screaming very hard and crying and it really hurts and it was all black and cold and then Quinlan woke me.”
“Quinlan is your bond-mate, right?”
Obi-Wan pressed his face against Yan’s chest again, scared and tired from the vision and the retelling, but still nodded “Yes. He said he felt me dreaming.”
“The last question, I promise.” Jocasta held a flimsi in front of the cam, showing the drawing Obi-Wan did as soon as he was awake enough - a common technic to calm down children after a vision.
It was good for his age: twenty-three identical faces looked in front of them, and while the ones in the back were only faces the five in the first row were more detailed; they wore some kind of helmet and the same armour like thing but each had a different colour on it. The first had both arms and head in grey; the second was almost all in red with a black stick in his hand; the third had his shoulder painted in a yellow-orange tone with an horizontal line in the same colour over his eyes and a three vertical ones on his chest; the fourth was in the same yellow-orange, but only on his shoulders ; the last one had blue arms and a blue triangle on his chest.
Jocasta waited a few seconds, so in future the drawing will be clear enough to be studied, before showing it to Obi Wan “These are the men you saw, right?”
The child barely looked at it before nodding “He’s the one who spoke.” said pointing at the one with the orange line over his eyes “He was the most warm too.”
“Thank you, Obi-Wan. You did very good and you were very brave.” Jocasta put the flimsi down and smile at him ”I’ll tell Master Alrisha to give you a bit more of honey melon tomorrow. As a prize. You deserve it.”
He made a weak giggle, but it was better than anything. His eyelids were already dropping.
Poor thing must be exhausted.
Yan got up, slowly, and started to gently rocking Obi-Wan.
She stopped the recording, saving it in the database. The Council did not gave too much importance to visions because ‘always moving the future is’ but the habit of recording and conserving every single vision was an old one and she had promised herself to keep it alive at all cost.
“Tell me the truth, you are going to bring Obi-Wan to your quarters, aren’t you?”
Yan snorted soundlessly “A little too late to go to the Creche, don’t you think?”
“Oh, please, at least be honest with yourself. You like this child.”
“I don’t…”
“And he likes you. Or Alrisha wouldn’t have called you.”
“She called me because Sifo-Dyas is away on a mission and Yoda is still on Kashyyyk for the Life Day Festival.”
“And do you really think this is a good excuse?”
“It’s not an excuse. I am used to calm down Sifo after an intense vision, so I am one of the masters they call to handle people recovering from one.”
She hummed without actually reply.
If he was so settled on denial she would let him in it for another while. Obi-Wan was way too little to be worried about finding a master anyway.
For a few moments Obi-wan’s little snores were the only sound in the room. Force, even while snoring he was adorable.
“Fine. I’m going to put this away and then I’ll retire. Good night, Yan.”
“Good night, Jo… and thanks.”
She knew what he was referring to, so she waved him off “Don’t worry about it. And remember that I promised him honey melon, you better get him some for breakfast.”
“You made the promise and I am the one who has to keep it?”
“I will check, don’t try me.”
Yan didn’t even answer her, opening the door with a bit of Force to be sure it would not disturb Obi-Wan’s sleep “Night, Master Nu.”
Oh, I win then.
“Night, Master Dooku.”
-------------
“Obi-Wan, did Master Dooku got you some honey melon?”
“Yes, Master Nu! I got almost three whole bowl of it.”
“Good. You deserved it.”
His smile was so blinding that she wondered if she was truly too old to take another padawan on.
