Chapter Text
“He’s clearly unstable, master-“
A dull tone in the back of his head. The rolling tide of a ship, an aquatic one, equal parts lulling and nauseating.
“-the dark side-“
The dark side? He should be worried about that, shouldn’t he? It was hard to think with all this cotton padding his brain. It was as if he’d drank too much the night before – or perhaps the last thousand nights. But this was so much worse than the knee-knocking world-sway of drunkenness. He had the feeling he couldn’t solve his current predicament by vomiting into the nearest latrine and asking for another double.
“Patience, you should have. More pressing matters at hand, there are.”
Yoda’s speech almost sounded as if it was the right way round. Wait, was Yoda there? What had happened? The last thing he remembered was-
“Ughhh.”
The groan fell from his lips with no prompting from his body. He didn’t want to wake up and open his eyes – they felt as if someone had glued them together. He had no desire to try and move his head for fear that he tip over, the gravity of wherever he was clearly working against him. He was content, anyway. Not too hot, or too cold. Just right.
He wanted to stay in this fragile cocoon of sleep.
“Obi-wan. Obi-wan Kenobi. Wake up.”
XXXXX
“What’s the last thing that you can remember?”
They had given him some time. When he first came round he could only make some pathetic gurgling sounds and haunting moans. Master Che had herded the Jedi out of the room as soon as she saw the state Obi-wan was in, instead calmly urging him to raise this hand, blink, try to say your name…
At least the room wasn’t currently hurtling across the galaxy like it was the first time the masters had tried to talk to him. Obi-wan very much hoped that they hadn’t found him sprawled out across some lower level bar top before they dragged him back to the temple. However, their gazes portrayed a higher level of concern than they did disdain. That was a feat, especially for some of the older masters.
“It’s… hard to say.” Obi-wan replied, rubbing his temple. “I can’t remember much. My head still…”
He scrunched his eyes shut. The throbbing ache had been ebbing and flowing in waves, much like the storm of nausea that had almost overtaken him earlier. This was more tolerable, but it did make tasks such as simple recall a pain in his ass.
“I was with Master Jinn, I know that. If you ask him, maybe you’ll have an easier time,” Obi-wan replied, rubbing his eyes in a vain attempt to quell the pain.
The silence in the room was deafening. The Force pulled taunt in a way that made Obi-wan’s sensitive stomach twist unexpectedly, his brow scrunched in pain as he leaned forward to get a look at the masters in front of him – the masters that were now looking at each other with open concern, the younger one on the left with open shock.
“What?” Obi-wan asked, even as ice infiltrated his veins.
“For ten years, dead, Master Jinn has been.” Master Yoda replied, matter of fact. The words felt like a knife in his ribs, twisting hard in his still sensitive nervous system.
Obi-wan retched, unable to even process the emotions that overtook him. The pain in his head exploded into slivers of white light as he gagged, back curled in on itself like an old master and not the padawan he was. The distorted tilt of the room mixed with the agonizing pain – both physical and emotional – that threatened to rip him in half. He made to scream, but instead of noise, bile spewed from his lips as he sobbed.
XXXXX
The third time the masters saw him, Obi-wan was composed.
Master Che had given him painkillers. They dulled the throbbing in his brain that she had chastised him for omitting in his report to her earlier. But they did nothing to dull the aching hole in his chest.
His master was dead. Had been, apparently.
He was alone.
He was alone, but most of all, he was confused. Was that young Nautolan on the Council before Obi-wan awoke in his healing room? And since when did Master Windu wear armor? Was he trapped in some dream – or nightmare, or Force vision, meant to test his resolve?
The masters filed in as Obi-wan tried to wrack his mind. While the medicines assisted with the prevention of pain, they couldn’t dissipate the fog that fell over his memory. He could only make out vague flashes – Master Jinn on a ship, some rogue diplomat of some sort, a crash landing – it was all a scrambled mess. Much like Obi-wan’s heart, when he thought of his master.
There has to be an explanation for this. Obi-wan had to get to the bottom of it.
“Masters,” he greeted, cool and collected as he sat with his legs crossed, seated on the edge of his cot this time. He wouldn’t be leaning back, helpless and injured this time. He had questions.
“Obi-wan,” Mace Windu greeted, his nod cordial and his shoulders relaxing as soon as he noted the younger man’s posture. “Feeling better?”
“As much as a padawan can be, when he’s learned his master is dead,” Obi-wan replied flippantly, his gaze never leaving the masters.
Their eyes flickered amongst the various Jedi gathered there, the Force tightened with apprehension. Something was wrong with his reply, Obi-wan was certain of that. Master Yoda only solidified it when he sighed and shook his head, rapping the floor with his staff before stepping forward.
“Obi-wan Kenobi. Ten years, it has been, since you lost your master. Ten years, it has been, since you were called padawan. A member of the Jedi Council, you are.”
Obi-wan stilled. He blinked, his expression mindful, if a bit confused.
And then he barked a sarcastic laugh, his padawan braid bouncing as he shook his head.
“A master? Me?” He pointed at his own chest, tugged on the braid for good measure. “Is this some Jedi tradition I’m not privy to? Padawan’s first major injury after age twenty or something, you all play this ridiculous prank?”
Obi-wan’s smile soon soured as the other masters – even the Nautolan, who seemed the most reactive – only shuffled their feet and gazed at one another with concern ever-present in their stares. This was starting to get ridiculous.
“It isn’t a joke, Kenobi. Until this week, you were a thirty six year old Jedi master, who had trained his own padawan to knighthood. Now, it seems, you’ve reverted back to yourself from a decade ago. Braid and all,” Windu gestured to him with some disdain, perhaps even exasperation. Obi-wan’s eyes narrowed in turn.
“That’s bantha fodder,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Master Jinn threatened to keep me under his wing until I was thirty. And that’s all besides the point – what happened to me? And where is my kriffing master?”
“Swearing is quite unnecessary, master Kenobi,” Master Mundi chastised him. And Obi-wan might have bowed his head in supplication if the title of “master” hadn’t sent his head spinning. Master Ki-Adi Mundi, calling him master?
“Is it?” Obi-wan blurted out, unable to stop himself? “I feel as if I’ve fallen into some sort of horrible nightmare. I believe some cursing is absolutely necessary.”
Master Yoda had the nerve to huff out a chuckle before addressing Obi-wan once more, this time with more care.
“What happened, you ask? Wondering that, we all are. On a mission with your former padawan, you were. Encountered a Sith artifact, you did. Lose your memory, hm? And your beard!” Master Yoda noted with just a little bit of humor, before his face fell once more. “Much has changed, former padawan. In so little time, so very much. A war, we are fighting. Your master, we have lost. Your knowledge, we have lost. A great blow, this is, to the Order.”
The other masters hung their heads in reverence for something lost that Obi-wan couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
“So… this isn’t some elaborate joke?”
“No.” Mace Windu replied, with such a straight face that it actually scared him.
“I was – and Master Jinn, he –“
“I know this is a lot, master- Obi-wan,” the Nautolan whose name Obi-wan couldn’t quite remember assured him. “You will understand. In time. Rest. The artifact has taken a toll on you. The Council will decide your place. Rest now.”
Despite seeming like the youngest one there, the other members of the Council conceded to the Nautolan’s perspective, stepping back even as Obi-wan, frustrated, called out.
“Now, wait a-“
The door closed behind them with a firm click.
He was alone.
Truly alone.