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The rock broke, shattering in his hand, and Obi-Wan cursed, throwing it away with a hiss.
“Couldn’t have left me with a sword, could she?” He cursed again, because he was angry and tired and desperate but it was easier to curse then it was to give in to the fear. “A dagger, even.”
He grimaced as he looked at the cut on his palm. Nothing severe, but it was still an open wound and if it got infected he was in trouble.
He looked around the small camp he’d built for himself. It was shoddy. Pathetic, really. But it was the best he could do after Satine and her people had left him behind. He’d need to build another fire to bring the water a boil, cut off a bit more of the cloak he’d been using as a blanket, and then boil the fabric to use as a bandage.
For now he wiped off the blood. The fabric of his tunic was dirty enough he couldn’t even really tell that there was blood there. But that didn’t make it any less there.
Anyone with the violence in their heart to turn on their family could never be trusted. Or so Satine had told him from safely on board the small boat taking her to her ship while he’d been stranded on the coarse sand that made up the beach.
Turn on his family. He let out another bitter sound, as he took the bowl-shaped structure he’d made to the small stream to fill it with water. His grandfather, King Dooku, had been murdering innocents, taking young men and women from all their subordinate lands—Naboo, Mandalore, Melidaan, and more—throwing them into the maze for Grievous to prey on, a man who’d been cursed by the gods themselves.
Sometimes Obi-Wan could still hear the distinct sound of the creature’s hacking laughs after he’d dismembered another of his victims.
Obi-Wan had been searching for years for a way to end the threat, all the while knowing that it would surely lead to his Grandfather killing him as well.
So yes, he’d ‘turned against his family’, and he felt justified in having done so.
But of course, turning against his family was a sign of violence in his heart. No matter if he’d done it to save lives.
If he’d saved Satine’s life.
Well, he supposed his expectations had almost been right. Grandfather Dooku would not be the one to kill him, but the act of turning against his family would still be what did it, in the end.
He turned back to his camp, water in hand, and froze.
There was a man sitting at his camp, a fire already blazing despite the fact that Obi-Wan hadn’t yet started a fire.
“Hello there,” he said carefully, working to stay polite despite the strangeness of the situation. “I thought this island was abandoned.”
The man certainly didn’t look like he was abandoned, where Obi-Wan’s clothes amounted to dirty tunics that he had no hope of keeping clean, the man sitting at his camp was dressed in simple but clean clothes, white—and there was no way a tunic could be kept that white while stuck on this island—and patterned with golden embroidery.
“Up until now, I thought the same,” the man said easily. He had a nice voice, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think. Soft and steady fused with an innate confidence that Obi-Wan was used to hearing from men like his grandfather or his brother—a confidence Obi-Wan’s own voice had once held, before he’d started losing faith in his family, in himself. “I was fairly certain it was why my brother dumped me here.”
Obi-Wan blinked at that, completely thrown. “Your brother dumped you here?”
The man’s lips quirked up in a fond smile. “He’s got a strange sense of humor, but he’ll be back. Eventually.”
Obi-Wan tried to take that in. He and his brother had any number of fights, both in earnest and in fun, but he couldn’t quite imagine abandoning Anakin on an abandoned island.
“Well.” Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Until then, you are of course welcome to whatever hospitality I can grant you." He waved his hand to the camp, with it’s poorly put together lean-to and small storage of food—fruit he’d gathered and the last of the fish he was carefully rationing until he could catch more.
The man let his gaze drift around the camp. “Thank you.” He turned back to Obi-Wan, gaze heavy. “I wouldn’t ask that of you.”
Obi-Wan shrugged. “It’s no hardship.”
It was clear that the man didn’t believe him in the slightest.
Which was fair, because it wasn’t the slightest bit true.
Obi-Wan didn’t know what more there was to say though, so he continued what he’d been doing, placing the water next to the fire so it could heat up, stripping a bit of his cloak for his future bandage.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” the man asked after a short time.
Obi-Wan shook his head. “You’re welcome to share my food and shelter.” He gave the man a wry smile. “For a given value of ‘shelter’. But I’d ask that you prepare your own bedding.”
He glanced up at the sky, noting the sun’s place in the sky. The man should have plenty of time to put together some sort of sleeping situation. It bothered Obi-Wan, just a little bit, to not offer to help with that. But there was still so much to do. Eventually he hoped he’d be able to build some sort of stability, but he was still in the phase where he was just trying to stay alive.
“Of course,” the man said quickly. He stood, the movement smooth and controlled in the way Obi-Wan associated with the guards and warriors at home. It was not too unlike the way Obi-Wan moved—or at least when Obi-Wan was not half-starved and exhausted. “I apologize for simply making myself at home in your camp.”
Obi-Wan shrugged again. “It’s no bother.” It had perhaps not been polite, but it was also not completely unreasonable in such a situation.
The man worked in silence for a time, moving out into the trees to gather leaves and sticks, weaving together a bed. He moved with an easy certainty and Obi-Wan found his own gaze slipping to watch him work even as he finished cleaning and sanitizing the bandage, hanging it to let it dry as he let the water cool enough for him to rinse the dirt and blood from his hand.
He jerked in surprise when his abandoned guest suddenly stood beside him. “Let me?”
Obi-Wan faltered, surprised. “Pardon?”
The man was already ripping part of his own tunic, catching Obi-Wan’s hand and bringing it close as he dried his hand, fingers pressing gently at the edges of the cut as he determined just how severe the injury was. “You should be more careful.”
There was a part of Obi-Wan that wanted to bristle at the words, but there was no condescension in the man’s tone. No, there was a strangely sincere care behind the words.
“I do try,” he managed wryly. “It’s certainly not planned.”
The man looked up at him, and from so close Obi-Wan couldn’t help but notice the specks of amber hidden in the man’s warm brown eyes. “I should hope not.”
The man reached for the bandage Obi-Wan had prepared, gently wrapping it around Obi-Wan’s hand, fingers brushing against his skin in a way that made Obi-Wan shiver, despite the heavy weight of the sun beating down on him.
“I never asked your name.”
“Kote.” The man—Kote—gave him an expectant look.
“Obi-Wan.” Kote had finished wrapping Obi-Wan’s hand, but he’d yet to let go and Obi-Wan couldn’t quite bring himself to be the one that drew away. “Originally from Serenno.”
“Well met, Obi-Wan from Serenno. I never asked, how did you end up here on what should have been an abandoned island?”
Involuntarily, his lips twisted into an unhappy grimace. “I had to flee home when I… ruined a family tradition and helped a woman escape an unlucky fate.” That was a somewhat inaccurate way of describing his grandfather’s ritual sacrifice, but he certainly wasn’t going to go into details that would bring far more questions than he wanted to answer. “The woman I helped had offered to bring me home with her, to marry me.”
He let out a quiet, bitter laugh. He had not asked her to marry him, and he did not know why she had suggested it if she had never planned to follow through. Perhaps she had worried he would falter at the last moment and wanted to give him incentive to stay true to his promise.
He swallowed, before quickly finishing the story. “She changed her mind, but granting me a quick death was apparently too violent for her, and simply retracting her promise and sending me on my way too dangerous a prospect that I might ruin her reputation.”
Kote’s eyes had darkened the more he’d outlined his story. “She shouldn’t have done that to you.”
Obi-Wan gave another helpless shrug. “She had to do what she thought was best for her.” It wasn’t that he wasn’t bitter. He was. But what was there to do about it?
Kote’ hand tightened it’s hold on his hand. “On Vhett’s sword I swear, I won’t leave you here.”
Obi-Wan let out a light laugh, a twist of warmth in his chest. It wasn’t truly a surprise. No decent person would leave a man abandoned if it was as simple as letting them onto a boat. But it was still nice—after having been abandoned by someone he had thought was decent—to receive a promise of help. “I don’t need an oath on the gods. Your word is well enough.”
That made Kote tilt his head. “You don’t trust the gods.”
“Should I?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, unable to help the way his lips pursed. “Easier to stay out of their sight and attention and let them play games with someone else’s lives.”
Kote frowned, looking away at that, his fingers brushing over Obi-Wan’s palm again. “I don’t think you could even if you tried.” He sounded almost apologetic about it.
Obi-Wan furrowed his brows, confused. What was it he couldn’t do even if he tried? “Pardon?”
“Stay out of the sight of the gods.” Kote’s lip twitched up in a small, wry smile. “I can’t imagine them looking away from you.”
Obi-Wan found his mouth falling open, surprise and some other emotion he didn’t have a name for. “Oh.”
Kote stood, finally letting go of Obi-Wan’s hand. Obi-Wan rather wished he hadn’t, but then pushed the thought aside. Attractive as he might be, Kote was a stranger.
A very kind, very helpful stranger, as he spent the rest of the day helping Obi-Wan around camp, gathering food and helping Obi-Wan fix up his shelter.
They spent the night laid out a few feet away from each other and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but listen to the steady rhythm of the man’s breathing. For the first time since he’d been abandoned here he found himself falling asleep easily and when he woke up it was to the sound of someone moving around camp.
“Here.” Kote moved closer as he sat up, a bowl made of sturdy fronds containing fruit in his hand.
Obi-Wan took the proffered food, surprised and warmed. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Kote had his own bowl of fruit and he sat only a few feet away as he ate, his eyes on Obi-Wan.
They spent the day once again working on the camp, though Kote pulled him to go fishing later in the day.
Obi-Wan would like to think he was capable—perhaps even competent—but he’d been trained to be a prince, a soldier, a general. He had not been trained to survive entirely on his own.
Kote seemed entirely experienced, hands warm against Obi-Wan’s arms as he showed Obi-Wan easier ways to spear the fish, chest warm against Obi-Wan’s back as he moved closer than was probably necessary.
Obi-Wan didn’t exactly mind, leaning back against that firm body, letting Kote’s hands brush over him.
He ate better that night then he had since he’d been left here, and the company was admittedly better than he’d had in years. There was something a little intoxicating about eating fish next to the fire, easy conversation flowing between them, with Kote’s gaze warm and soft and kind where he met Obi-Wan’s own gaze.
Their bed mats seemed to have moved closer, though neither of them commented on it, and once again Obi-Wan fell asleep easily.
The following days passed much the same and Obi-Wan slowly felt some of his tension disappearing. Kote’s brother would return eventually, and the intense fear that he would die here—starved and lonely—was fading with Kote’s promises and the improvement in his living situation now that he and Kote were working together.
And each night their bed mats seemed just a little bit closer than the night before.
He almost thought that he might even be happier here and now then he had back on Serenno as his grandfather’s heir. There had been so little freedom there, so many expectations, so few true friends and confidantes, and the constant fear that he would not be able to save those people his grandfather so casually sacrificed.
It felt almost inevitable that the next time Kote moved too close, laughing as he teased Obi-Wan for his fishing abilities, that Obi-Wan turned in his arms and kissed him.
It was electrifying. Kote seemed momentarily shocked, before his hands tightened on Obi-Wan’s waist, pulling Obi-Wan close as he kissed Obi-Wan as though their lives depended on it.
They stumbled out of the water, neither moving farther from the other than was necessary to keep moving. They ended up tripping and crashing to the sand, but only took enough of a break to ensure the other wasn’t hurt before they were kissing again.
There was something about kissing Kote that was unlike anything Obi-Wan had ever experienced, like being touched by lightning, like drinking the ambrosia of the gods, like being taken apart and put together by too careful hands.
They made it back to camp and down to Obi-Wan’s bed mat before Kote suddenly stopped, pulling away. “No. Wait. We need to talk.”
Obi-Wan let out an unhappy groan, wanting to pull Kote back down into another kiss, but he didn’t. Instead, he carefully pulled away, sitting up. Kote had barely moved away and they were still nearly on top of each other.
“Right. We should do that.”
For the first time since he’d met Kote, Kote seemed almost uncertain. “I haven’t been… completely honest with you.”
That was not an encouraging start to this conversation. But then, he hadn’t necessarily told Kote everything about himself either. It hadn’t felt all that important when they were merely strangers surviving abandonment together.
“All right.”
“Do you know Vhett?”
Obi-Wan blinked, brows furrowing. “The god of War?”
“Yes.” Kote nodded, and Obi-Wan wondered what this could possibly have to do with anything. “Do you know how Vhett works?”
Obi-Wan had studied a great deal of the gods, but mortals were only ever told so much. “That he has many faces, for war has no one face, but the face of death and grief and hope and purpose.”
Kote nodded. “Right, yes. That’s… accurate. Vhett isn’t just one god, he’s more than just those elements, though those are the most commonly mentioned. When they say he has many faces it’d be more accurate to say he has many sons.” He made a helpless gesture. “Though we all do seem to share his face.”
Obi-Wan just stared at him, mind stuttering over the words and their implications. “Pardon?” His voice had gotten a little higher than normal.
“Kote Vhett. One of the gods of war.” Kote twitched a little as though he was unused to having to introduce himself. “Most specifically god of duty.”
There was a part of Obi-Wan that wanted to pull away, because this… this he had no answers for. Had no way to conceptualize.
“Suddenly saying I’m the grandson of a king feels like a much smaller omission of facts then it did before.”
Kote looked even more uncomfortable. “I knew that already. I knew who you were before I even ended up here.”
Obi-Wan nodded, yes, he supposed a god would know. “So you’re not really abandoned here.”
Kote shook his head, eyes suddenly adamant. “I would have gotten you off this island immediately. Would have taken you anywhere you wanted to go. My brothers plotted against me, they’re… limiting my powers for the moment. I’m just barely above a demi-god at the moment, no—“ he waved his fingers, meaningfully.
Obi-Wan furrowed his brow, thinking through that. It made him feel better to know that at least hadn’t been a lie. That in truth Kote hadn’t lied to him at all. Yes, Kote hadn’t told him he was a god, but then, a person’s identity was a truth that he didn’t feel he was allowed to demand. He hadn’t told Kote the truth about himself either.
“Why?”
Kote looked strangely embarrassed. “I’ve been… enchanted by you for years. Rex, he’s the god of strategy, knew. He’d been encouraging me to find a way to meet you.” Kote shrugged. “He finally took matters into his own hand.”
There was a lot to ask about that, but Obi-Wan was still caught up on the first part. “Enchanted by me?”
Kote shrugged, and he was still a picture of grace even in this. “You’ve never shied from duty. Not your duty to your family, to your people, and then there at the end your duty to your own morals.” He gave Obi-Wan a teasing smile. “It doesn’t hurt that I first noticed you when you lead the battle in Naboo against the Sith invaders. You were… breathtaking.”
“Oh.” He felt a blush rise over his cheeks, and had no doubt that Kote could see it.
Kote’s fingers brushed over the skin of his palm, soft and tingling. He was still so warm and Obi-Wan found that despite everything he’d just learned he still wanted to kiss Kote again.
“Anything else I should know?”
Kote paused. “I don’t think so.”
Obi-wan nodded, letting out a quiet breath. Kote’s brothers had sent Kote here, playing the games the gods always played, but there was nothing for it. He knew the attention of the gods was a fickle, fickle thing and the attention could be as much a blessing as a curse.
But for now, he could imagine little better than having the attention of this god. Even if he knew it wasn’t to last.
“Then may I kiss you again?”
Kote answered the question by kissing Obi-Wan first.
It was like electricity, like ambrosia, like being touched by a god.
But then, that was exactly what was happening.
By the time they pulled back—and he had no idea how long they’d been kissing, how long Kote had been touching him, soft and sure—Kote was glowing. It should have looked unnatural, but it didn’t. It was like the light that always seemed to be in Kote’s countenance had simply taken a more visible form.
Kote let out a soft laugh. “Looks like my brothers are finally satisfied.” He kissed Obi-Wan again and it was everything. “Where do you want me to take you?”
Obi-Wan felt a small twist of regret. But he had already prepared himself with the knowledge that a god’s attention was a fickle thing, and he could not blame the gods for being the gods.
He had not planned for what he would do once he got off this island, but with the question suddenly in front of him he found he knew. That in his heart he had likely always known. “I need to go home.”
Kote’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”
Obi-Wan nodded. “My brother needs me.”
Kote stood, pulling Obi-Wan up with him, until Obi-Wan was held tight in Kote’s arms. “Your wish is my command,” he said, and his voice was as teasing as it was serious.
In the blink of the eye the island faded away to be replaced by Obi-Wan’s old room back in his grandfather’s home. He was still in Kote’s arms, which was good, because for as seamless as the movement had been he still found himself feeling just the slightest bit dizzy.
“Oh, that’s much easier than a ship.”
Kote laughed, eyes dancing with something warm. “I’ve always thought so.” He leaned forward to press another kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips. “I need to go and remind my brothers not to mess with me.”
Obi-Wan nodded, reminding himself that he’d known this was only just for a moment. A beautiful, wonderful moment. But nothing more than that. “Once you’ve done that, you should thank them for me.” They had, in the little games that the gods always played, saved Obi-Wan’s life.
Kote snorted. “They don’t deserve that satisfaction, but I suppose I can share the message.” He stepped back. “Be careful, your grandfather’s still unhappy.”
Obi-Wan had suspected nothing less. “Thank you, Kote. You saved my life.”
Kote’s smile was soft, warm. “Always. Anytime.”
Obi-Wan didn’t say anything to that, because he knew the truth.
Kote kissed him one last time and then within a blink of the eye he was gone.
Obi-Wan swallowed down the tumult of emotions that hit him at the sudden departure. Still, there was no time to waste grieving a single moment in time that had passed.
He still had duty. And this time it was the duty to his people. They did not deserve to stay trapped beneath his grandfather’s oppressive reign.
He moved to his wardrobe to prepare for returning to society and froze when he realized that somehow he’d been cleaned, his clothes repaired—more than that, improved—and that he looked every inch the prince he was supposed to be.
Well, that had been very kind of Kote.
There was some tumult in the castle when Obi-Wan left his room to essentially reappear. Anakin practically threw himself at him. “Obi-Wan! You’re alive! Grandfather said you’d been killed.”
Obi-Wan felt a twinge of guilt at that. He should have told Anakin his plans, but he’d known his brother would not have been willing to accept Obi-Wan’s choices. “I may have made myself scarce after having ruined some of grandfather’s plans.”
Anakin’s eyes widened. “You were the one who got rid of Grievous?”
Obi-Wan gave Anakin his most innocent look. “Only someone with a death wish would do something like that.”
The look on Anakin’s face was the picture of disgruntlement. “Which describes you perfectly.”
Obi-Wan couldn’t help the small smile that escaped at that. “I don’t know if I’d say perfectly.”
“I would.” Anakin’s expression turned grim. “Grandfather won’t be happy.”
“He never is.” Obi-Wan rested a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “That doesn’t matter, though. I’m going to be speaking to him soon, he has no doubt heard that I’ve returned.”
Anakin snorted. “Given that Quinlan’s yell when he saw you could be heard from a kilometer away, I’d say yes.”
“Quinlan has never been one for subtlety.” Obi-Wan had seen on Quinlan’s face the absolute relief at seeing Obi-Wan, alive and present. It was no real surprise that grandfather had declared him dead, but it was unfortunate that so many had been hurt by it.
Worse that he had raised their hopes when there was the inevitability that he would give them a reason to grieve once again far too soon.
He spent the rest of the day with Anakin. His brother was exceptionally clingy at the moment, and Obi-Wan could admit to being a little needy himself. He called Anakin back as Anakin finally made move to leave—no doubt he was going to go find Padme, their relationship a secret still, with the knowledge that their grandfather would disapprove.
“You’re a good man, Anakin.” Obi-Wan rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m lucky to have you. So is all of Serenno.”
Anakin looked almost embarrassed, ducking his head and glancing at Obi-Wan from beneath his lashes. “You think so?”
“I know it,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “I’m very proud of you.”
Anakin had a pleased smile on his face as he left and Obi-Wan watched him go. Anakin was, perhaps, still a bit rash. But he would be okay. And he would no doubt marry Padme as soon as King Dooku was out of the picture, hopefully she would temper him.
When he made it to the throne room, his grandfather was already waiting for him, standing by the window and looking out onto the city.
“It’s bold of you to return. Grievous was a favorite of mine.”
“You mean senseless slaughter in the attempts to show your strength was a favorite pastime of yours. Grievous was never more than a tool for you.”
His grandfather gave a graceful shrug. “Perhaps. You’ve always been fond of your semantics.”
“I’ve always been fond of truth.”
He could feel his grandfather’s derision at that. “So you say.”
“The truth is,” Obi-Wan continued, “that I can not continue to stand back as you continue your reign of tyranny.”
His grandfather turned, his cape fluttering behind him. “Oh, you are bold. For all your skill, Obi-Wan, you’ll never match me.” His smile was cruel. “You know I’ve been blessed by the gods. The god of power, Sidious himself, has blessed me with the promise of defeating my enemies.”
He withdrew his sword, feeling the heft of it in his hand. “Then I shall die having done all that I can.”
His grandfather blinked in surprise. But then, it had been a long time since anyone had challenged his grandfather’s reign. After he’d killed the twelfth contender most had resigned themselves to the situation. “Well then.” His grandfather pulled his own sword. “Despite everything, I hope you know I’ll be sorry to lose you. You had such promise. It’s quite fortunate I have a second heir, is it not?”
Obi-Wan tilted his head in agreement. “Anakin will do a fine job, once we’re both gone. Serenno will be lucky to have him.”
Dooku moved first, and Obi-Wan caught the blade against his own.
He knew his grandfather would win, knew that he himself would die. But it didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps it was having taken that first step in turning against his grandfather by destroying Grievous. Or perhaps it was the way Kote had kissed him, whispering of how Obi-Wan’s determination to fulfill his duty had been what had caught his attention.
Or perhaps it was simply a matter that at some point he merely had to say enough.
Their blades crashed together again, and there was an almost impossible amount of strength behind his grandfather’s blows—a blessing from the god of power—and Obi-Wan could feel the vibrations along his arms.
He cried out, stumbling away as his grandfather managed a blow to his arm. The pain was staggering. “Concede, Obi-Wan. There’s no need for you to die.”
Obi-Wan shifted the blade in his hand. “Yet there is every need for you to do so.”
There was perhaps the slightest hint of regret in his grandfather’s eyes as he surged forward again, his blows reigning down on Obi-Wan, forcing him into a steady retreat. His arm was significantly weakened, and despite the two-handed grip he had on his weapon he could feel the way his strength was fading the same way he could feel the blood trickle down his arm.
He stepped back, crashing into a pillar. He cursed, trying to maneuver away, but it was a fatal mistake; the momentary distraction forced him to lose his grip enough for his grandfather to knock the blade from his hand.
He ducked the next blow even as his hand moved on instinct for his dagger.
He cried out as he felt blade cut past the leather of his armor and deep into his side. His grandfather pulled back again, sword coming up and Obi-Wan didn’t even think, hand coming up to catch the blade on its downward swing.
Both he and his grandfather jerked in surprise as the blow held. There was a strange vibration in his hand and it occurred to him in a strange daze that it was the hand that Kote had wrapped when he’d been injured. Though it was clear now, that perhaps he had done something more.
The hesitation and surprise was all he needed and he pushed back on the blade, sending his grandfather stumbling. He surged forward, plunging the dagger down into his grandfather’s chest.
His grandfather’s face was a picture of shock, eyes wide as he stumbled and then fell backwards.
Obi-Wan fell with him, hitting his knees.
There was a painful heat radiating from his side, and he pressed against it. It was a fatal blow, just as he’d known it would be.
His grandfather was shuddering faintly, choking on blood. “You… you killed me.” His voice was weak with pain and shock. “Impossible. The blessing—”
Obi-Wan shook his head, and he was barely holding himself up now. “No,” Obi-Wan corrected. “You were blessed that your opponents would all die at your hand.” He gave up on holding himself up, collapsing onto the floor. “There was never a guarantee that you’d survive the fight as well.”
A choked laugh escaped his grandfather. “You’ve always loved your semantics.” He was fading quickly, eyes falling shut.
“Truth,” Obi-Wan corrected, breathing shallow and painful. “I have always loved the truth.”
His grandfather didn’t answer, but his lip was twisted into a grimace of a smile.
He would be dead soon, they both would. Obi-Wan stared up at the ceiling. “Long live King Anakin,” he whispered.
The last thing he was aware of was the sound of someone yelling his name as the world faded away.
When his eyes opened again he was standing at the shore of a river, a strange hobbled man standing before him at the head of a small boat, leaning heavily on a knobbled walking stick. “Money you need,” the man croaked out. “For the crossing into the beyond.”
Obi-Wan blinked, taking in the space around him, the world was bleak blues and grays. His grandfather was not there, despite having died only moments before Obi-Wan himself had. He didn’t question it, who was to say that time here passed in the same way. “You must be Master Yoda, the god who stands between the force of the living and the unification of death.”
The short man let out a small chortle. “My name that is, Obi-Wan of Serenno.”
Obi-Wan gave him a small bow, and he reached into the pouch on his belt, not bothering to ponder on the strangeness of death, that he was dressed once again in the simple tunics that he’d always favored. “It is my honor to meet you.”
“An honor, is it?” He got another chortle as the god led him to the boat. “Strange ideas you have, about what honor is.”
“Perhaps.” He had heard such things before, though with a more understandable sentence structure. “But what good would it do me to rail at the inevitability of your role? It seems far better to appreciate what experiences even death might give me.”
The man huffed at that, letting his walking stick dip into the river and setting the boat across the water. “Strange you are. Like you, I think I do.”
Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure what to think of that. “Thank you.”
The trip passed quickly, Master Yoda chortling to himself every now and then whenever he looked back at Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan considered asking him what the god found quite so entertaining, but in the end he decided to leave the god to his entertainment.
They bumped into the shore and Obi-Wan stood, giving the god a small bow. “Thank you.”
He got another chortle for that. “Visit again you should, good company you made.” The old man shook his head. “An honor, he says. An honor.”
Obi-Wan blinked. “I was unaware that the dead could ever return here once passing judgment.”
The old god looked gleeful. “Correct you are. Do this, the dead cannot.”
Before Obi-Wan could say anything, the strange god was on the boat again, drifting back across the river.
“Well then,” Obi-Wan muttered, shaking his head bemusedly. “I suppose even gods get lonely sometimes.” And senile, it seemed.
He could see a steep path leading him to a grand arch, where he could see spirits milling about in lines. There didn’t seem much point in delaying the process, so he began the hike. It was nice, he supposed, that given his incorporeal state he didn’t so much as lose his breath as the path steepened, but then there was no need to breathe at all.
“Obi-Wan?”
The voice was vaguely familiar and he found himself looking around.
A beautiful woman, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders pushed past the crowd to meet him.
“Satine?” He frowned. “You’re dead?”
She frowned. “While I was on Serenno there was a rebellion from those who felt that our stance of peace was foolish, I was killed almost immediately upon returning home.”
It seemed, Obi-Wan mused, that Obi-Wan would have died no matter what path he had taken. He found he couldn’t regret that he had died the way he had. Better to die in the course of duty than trapped upon an island or at the hands of strangers.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Satine sighed. “You gave me a few weeks longer to live, and my sacrifice was not in vain. At least now my people will no longer be sent to die at King Dooku and his monster Grievous’ hand.” She reached out to him. “And perhaps the afterlife will not be so terrible, if we have died together.”
Obi-Wan pursed his lips. He would not say that they had died together. Not when she had abandoned him to die.
“I don’t know if—“
“Obi-Wan!” He turned at the sound of his name and found himself gaping in surprise at what he saw.
Kote was there, dragging behind him yet another god. “Kote?”
And then Kote was in front of him. “I take my eyes off of you for less than a day and you die?” Kote shook his head. “If I wasn’t immortal, you’d be the death of me.”
“Kote?” he found himself repeating, unable to help the bewildered confusion that lined his voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting you out, of course.”
The god behind him let out an exasperated sigh. “This would have been much easier, Vhett, if you had given him immortality before he died. The paperwork involved in releasing a departed soul is a nightmare.”
Kote gave the god a vaguely apologetic look. “I would have, Mace, but I wanted to court him in the proper mortal fashion.”
Obi-Wan just stared at the two gods. “Give me immortality? Court me?”
Kote turned immediately back to him. “Yes, I wanted to court you.” His smile faded a little. “You didn’t realize?”
Obi-Wan was lucky he was dead, because he suddenly couldn’t breathe at all the implications. “No.”
Behind him Satine made a small sound, and she seemed more confused than even he was. “Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan ignored her for the moment. “I thought… I thought what happened… I thought it was just another of the games the gods play.”
Kote shook his head adamantly. “No. No, never, Obi-Wan. Never. I… I wanted to court you, and then perhaps ask you to join me as a god yourself.” He looked hesitant, and it seemed so out of place on a god’s face. “That is, if you’re amenable to that.”
“If I’m amenable to that,” Obi-Wan repeated, he was still reeling, trying to make sense of this new information.
Was he amenable to that? He supposed he didn’t truly want to be dead, no matter how at peace he was with the decision. But he rather suspected that becoming a god was as permanent as being dead was. Or well, as being dead was supposed to be.
Kote was watching him with wide, hopeful eyes. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think of those short weeks he’d been on that island with Kote. How despite the admittedly bleak circumstances, Kote had made it some of the happiest days of his life.
But was such a short amount of time truly enough to make such a permanent decision?
It was ridiculous, absurd, absolutely nonsensical. Yet Obi-Wan found himself thinking of the kindness, the competence, the compassion, the care, the determination, all those beautiful attributes and behaviors he had seen in the way Kote had treated him… he wanted to say yes.
“This… this isn’t a game?” Obi-Wan asked, and if his heart was still beating he rather expected it would be echoing loudly in his ears.
“Never,” Kote swore. “I do not play the games that many of the gods do. Your life, all the lives of the mortals, they’re not there for my amusement.” He gave Obi-Wan a crooked smile. “I’m the god of duty, Obi-Wan. And I take my duty seriously.”
“Yes.” The answer tripped off his tongue almost without his say so. “Yes, I’ll… I’ll come with you. Though I can’t imagine what sort of god I might be.”
Behind Kote, Mace sighed. “So much paperwork.” But there was a soft smile on his face. “But I suppose it might be worth it.”
“You’re making him a god?” Satine sounded incredulous, reminding Obi-Wan of her presence behind him.
He made to turn, to address her though he had no idea what he might say, but then Kote was kissing him and Obi-Wan could feel his spirit forming back into a body, the sensation of electricity and power running through him the way he imagined blood once did.
Obi-Wan sighed into the kiss, pulling away only far enough to give Kote a small smile. “I must say, I never expected this.”
Obi-Wan had already thought Kote the most handsome man he’d ever seen, but there was a happiness radiating from him that put even that earlier beauty to shame. “It’s all I’ve wanted since I first saw you.”
He took Obi-Wan’s hand, leading him away from the spirits.
“Thank you, Mace!” Kote called behind them and Obi-Wan turned as well as he could with Kote pulling him along to give the god his own nod of gratitude.
Kote wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan. “Let me take you home?”
Obi-Wan leaned into his hold, feeling a mix of terrified, exhilarated, hopeful. “Please.”
For the second time Kote brought him home—though it was not the home he’d known his whole life, but the one Kote had asked to share with him—the world suddenly bright around him, the colors more vibrant and the air fresher than Obi-Wan could ever recall his mortal life being.
It felt right, and while it was already far too late to change his mind, Obi-Wan felt the last of his fear slip away.
“You still haven’t told me what sort of god I might make,” Obi-Wan commented, leaning deeper into Kote’s hold, not quite ready to leave.
“The god of protection,” Kote murmured quietly. “The seeds of that divinity have been in you since I first saw you.”
Protection.
It seemed too high a calling, a gift and a duty far beyond his capability. Yet… he found he wanted it. That it was a calling he wanted to fulfill.
“Duty and protection,” Obi-Wan murmured.
“We’re more than just that. We’re you and me. Kote and Obi-Wan.” Kote shifted so he could kiss him again. “And we’ll make even the god of joy jealous of what we’ll have together.”