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The first thing Ahsoka registered was the singing.
Humming, really. The song twisted just out of reach, a soft and haunting melody that pulled at her.
She ripped her eyes open. The singing faded to a distant memory, and a small room came into view all around her.
Then she noticed she was chained to the wall.
She scanned the room on instinct, but it seemed to be empty. Her memories were trickling back, standing in the back of the ship as the Son wrapped his arms around her and she fell—
Ahsoka shoved away the rising panic. Just another enemy. Nevermind that the enemy was some sort of living incarnation of the Dark Side itself. Taking a deep breath, she refocused onto the chains. She tugged against them tentatively, then with increasing strength as they did not budge. The room was cold, and she knew that the bone-deep chill she felt did not only come from the temperature. The Son was close, and it made her wary to reach into the Force, but what choice did she have?
Ahsoka steeled herself, eyes slipping shut as she gingerly lowered herself into the Force. Or tried to, anyway. It slipped like sand through her fingers, and she growled in frustration.
“Why are you here, child?”
She jolted, whipping her gaze from her shackles to focus on the speaker—some sort of rodent, hovering by a seemingly smooth gray wall. So there was a door, then.
“Who are you?” Ahsoka demanded. “Are you a prisoner here, too?”
The creature chuckled bitterly, creeping closer to the wall she was chained against. “I have been here for many years, child. Trapped, always trapped. Just like you.” The thing was at her feet, now, and then it was climbing the wall, much too close. Ahsoka leaned her head away as much as the situation would allow. “Hey!”
It ignored her, crossing over to one of her wrists and hacking at the shackle until it came apart. It made quick work of the rest, until Ahsoka’s feet were standing on solid ground and she was rubbing at her chafing wrists. “Thanks. Those weren’t exactly comfortable,” she said, trying for levity.
The thing chuckled, but its laughter was suddenly cold. Ahsoka’s gaze shot down to where it was only a moment ago, but it wasn’t there. “Oh, child. Chains are the easy part.”
Faster than she could react, razor-sharp teeth bit into her bracer, cutting clean through to the skin of her wrist beneath. “Ouch! Hey, you little–” She lunged for the creature, but tripped over air and toppled to the ground. Her wrist was stinging, stinging, and the creature was laughing as it grew into...
“What a prize.” The soft silk of the Son’s voice belied the cold cruelty she saw in his eyes.
“You…” she said weakly, trying in vain to crawl away. The pain in her wrist was fading, and the room was getting hazy. She could hear the singing again, and it was getting clearer with every moment that passed. It sang to her of rage and pain wouldn’t it be so easy, to let it out? Let it out, let it out, let them see what you truly are. What they made you.
The singing dragged her down into the deep despite her cries. On the backs of her eyelids she saw clones dying in droves, Masters and Padawans alike crashing into the unforgiving earth. She saw Anakin with eyes that looked wrong , Obi-Wan’s blue eyes blown wide as he slowly sunk to the ground. She saw Anakin screaming and Rex with an expression of numb resignation as he sank into a chair, head in his hands. She kicked against it to no avail, searching for the light in this endless darkness—
But there was only pain.
And she fell.
The courtyard was dark when Anakin and Obi-Wan entered.
Trees with branches extended towards the night sky were ashy and gnarled, their leaves gone or crumbling. Eighteen, in total. In the morning, they’d be pristine once more.
Obi-Wan truly hoped they’d be gone by morning.
“Ahsoka?” He turned toward Anakin as his former Padawan called out, and followed his gaze to a lone figure standing near the largest tree in the space, back turned. Ahsoka.
“Come on, Ahsoka, we have to go!” Anakin tried. She didn’t turn, and ice began to creep into Obi-Wan’s bones.
“Ahsoka,” he said, sharper than Anakin. Her head tilted.
“Are you proud of me, Master?” Obi-Wan stopped dead in his tracks at the sickly-sweet tone to her voice. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
“...Yeah, of course I am, Ahsoka, but can we leave?” Confusion and concern ribboned through Anakin’s words. Ahsoka only laughed, high and cold, before finally turning around.
No.
Her eyes, once a bright and piercing blue, were a terrible yellow. Dark colored veins criss-crossed her body, in stark contrast to now-dull orange skin.
Ahsoka could not have Fallen. She was too good, and kind, and though she perhaps struggled with attachment just like her Master, she would never betray the people she loved. This was the Force twisted beyond anything Obi-Wan had ever witnessed before, some foul game played by their hosts that he was all too certain would end in ruin.
Anakin was staring open-mouthed at his Padawan, and the look in his eyes was fear. “Snips?”
“Don’t call me that,” Ahsoka hissed, and the sickly-sweet tone was suddenly replaced with something low and hateful. “I hate it when you call me that!”
Anakin took a step back, held out his hands placatingly. “I’m sorry, Ahsoka, it’s just a nickname!”
“Snips this, Snips that ,” Ahsoka mocked. “Always the annoyance. The tag-along that you never wanted. I’m free of that, now. I’m free of you.”
At Anakin’s stricken expression, Ahsoka switched her focus to Obi-Wan. “What’s the matter, Master? Lost another one of your lineage?” She smiled at him. “The Son has shown me so many things. First Qui-Gon, then me…” Her smile morphed into something gruesome. “He”—she tilted her head to Anakin—“will be next.”
Even the thought of such a thing was enough to instill a sense of panic in Obi-Wan. Lies, he told himself. These were lies of the Sith, and he would not allow them to pierce him. Still, Ahsoka continued.
“Oh, Obi-Wan,” she said softly, full of false and aching sympathy. “You would only hold on to let go. We’ll all be gone soon enough.” She tapped her chin, as if considering. “Unless that’s what you always wanted. Maybe you never even cared about Anakin, or me. Just a dying man’s wish, for you to ‘train the boy, Obi-Wan.’”
Obi-Wan staggered backward at that. “What did you just say?”
There was a glint of triumph in Ahsoka’s eyes as she continued. “I wonder, would you have taken Anakin on if Qui-Gon hadn’t asked you to? I don’t think so. You worried he was too old, too attached to his mother.” She laughed again. “I’m sure it was quite convenient when she ended up dead. No need to worry about Anakin getting distracted.”
Obi-Wan whipped his head around to look at Anakin, disregarding Ahsoka entirely. A foolish move, but Anakin had to know that none of it was true—
“My mother.” The words were a whisper, one that cracked into Obi-Wan’s already-broken heart.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said softly, grabbing his wrist. “You are my Padawan, my brother. I would choose you a thousand times over. And-” his voice broke, and he tried again. “I should have believed you, about your mother. She paid the price for my ignorance, and I regret it everyday.” Ahsoka was watching their exchange with that same sick smile on her face, thankfully remaining a ways away as it played out.
Anakin ripped his wrist away, and a part of Obi-Wan went with it. “I–” he choked, bowing his head. “I was too late to save her. They killed her.” His hands clenched into fists. “And none of it would have happened if you’d believed in me!” He looked up at Obi-Wan after his hoarse shout. “Is it true? That you didn’t want to train me? That you only did because it was Qui-Gon’s dying wish?” There was a desperate light in Anakin’s eyes even as his expression darkened. The Force was howling, and Obi-Wan felt it even through the thickest mental shields he’d ever created.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, trying and failing for calm. “I would have trained you even if Qui-Gon had not asked me to. You know that.”
“LIAR!” A silky laugh echoed on the wind, and Obi-Wan went rigid.
“Anakin,” he tried again. “The Son is manipulating you, pulling on your anger. Fight it!”
“Don’t fight it, Anakin,” Ahsoka crooned, stepping down from her place in the shadows. Obi-Wan had nearly forgotten about her, and the guilt hit like a blow to the chest. “Can’t you see? He never cared for you. You were only a burden to him. Even now, he only tries to save himself.” She continued forward, closer to Anakin. Obi-Wan threw out a hand in front of his Padawan. “The Jedi never cared for you. “You don’t have to fight for them. Join us,” she said. They said, because that tone was not Ahsoka, even this cruel and twisted replica of her.
Anakin moaned, grabbing his head. Obi-Wan glanced back at him for a split second, and that was his mistake. A faint whirr sounded behind him, and then a pair of lightsabers nearly cut off his head before he could parry. Ahsoka hissed as blue met green and yellow, twisting out of the saber lock and going for the legs. Obi-Wan flipped backward to buy himself time to analyze her movements. The trademark speed and dexterity were still there, but there was a strength and brutality to Ahsoka’s movements that were unfamiliar.
“Ahsoka!” Obi-Wan shouted between blows. “This isn’t you. I know that you’re fighting. Keep going.”
Their sabers locked once more, and Ahsoka gave a huff of frustration. “Afraid, Master Kenobi? Your sweet Padawan is far beyond your reach.” Ahsoka and The Son pushed, sending Obi-Wan sailing backwards into the wall of The Son’s citadel. He hit the ground hard, groaning in pain.
“Come join us, Anakin,” Ahsoka persuaded. “Let him go, let the Jedi burn. They deserve it. You can be free.”
Anakin was silent, and Obi-Wan managed to lift his head up to see the both of them.
“Let. Ahsoka. Go.” The quiet, burning anger in his voice sent a thrill of unease through Obi-Wan, but he lacked the strength to get up.
More than a hint of hysteria leaked into Ahsoka’s high-pitched laughter. “Let me go? I’m more free than I’ve ever been.” She twirled around, reaching her arms towards the bruising purple sky. “Don’t you just want to let it out? Let out your pain, your rage.” She ended in a whisper. “The Son has only shown me the way.”
“Let her GO!” Anakin roared to a spot behind Ahsoka. Her eyes narrowed.
“Fine,” she said, eyes slitted. “Perhaps you need a bit more motivation.”
Faster than any normal being, faster than either Anakin or Obi-Wan could react, Ahsoka was beside Obi-Wan. Get up. He pushed himself into a kneeling position, limbs screaming with pain. He might have broken every bone in his body.
Ahsoka clucked her tongue. “This wasn’t how we thought it would go. But it doesn’t matter. All things die, after all. Even you, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
“No!” Anakin lunged forward too late.
Obi-Wan saw bright yellow speared through his chest before the pain hit, and he sank to the cold earth.
She was screaming, screaming inside this shell of herself that had just murdered—
He was wrong, he was corrupt, he never believed in you.
Her thoughts weren’t her own. She was trapped, shackled in this mind that no longer belonged to her—
Chains are the easy part. She understood, now.
She stared through eyes that no longer belonged to her at the lifeless form of Obi-Wan Kenobi, at the figure of Anakin Skywalker so full of the rage and pain she could not escape from. She could only watch as the Son came up beside her and Anakin turned towards them with eyes that were burning. Wait. Wait. She looked at Anakin—Master, father, brother—and tried to convey her endless sorrow, because she knew what was coming next through that iron thread binding her to the Son.
There is no death, only the Force. She repeated the mantra to herself. No death. The Force. She would be one with the Force, she would be with Obi-Wan again.
The tether loosened enough for her to whisper, “I’m sorry.”
Then the Son placed a finger on her forehead, the tether snapped, her mind came rushing back just in time to witness the tearing of a soul-deep bond inside her head. Anakin’s eyes widened in horror as he lunged for her. “AHSOKA!”
And she fell.
Obi-Wan had just enough strength left in him to witness his Grandpadawan collapse to the ground beside the Son. Just enough to feel the tear of the bond they weren’t supposed to have in the first place. But just for a fleeting moment, he felt the brave and reckless fourteen-year-old that descended the shuttle ramp on Christophsis, new to war and command and loss. Then the still-fourteen-year-old, less brightness in her eyes and less naivete to her name after witnessing death and suffering for months on end. The fifteen-year-old that began mastering jar’kai, bringing to fruition what was once a dream of Obi-Wan’s, too. His Padawan just as she was Anakin’s, though he’d never spoken the words aloud. He wished he had, now. He wished he’d said too many things, to Anakin and Ahsoka and Cody and every other person who had seen him even when he’d tried to hide from himself.
His Padawans were too young to know such pain. Anakin would live, and leave Mortis, if only because a third piece of his heart still lived inside the halls of the Senate. Obi-Wan knew he’d become one with the Cosmic Force, but...perhaps there was still room, there, to see the people he loved again. Creation of The Son or not, some amount of Qui-Gon had greeted him in that cave. He could greet him and Ahsoka, too, in whatever came after. Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to tell her that she held no blame in all of this, but he would.
We’ll be alright, as long as we stay together. He had no plans of leaving them. Ahsoka was waiting for him, and they’d watch over Anakin however they could.
When Obi-Wan felt the Force curl around him one last time, he let go.