Chapter Text
“Seriously, I’m fine!” Leia shrugs off your concern, repeatedly assuring you that she is fine. Obi-Wan saved her just in the nick of time, so you don’t have to constantly fuss about her, but even so, your mind can’t stop replaying the sight of her– the sight of your daughter falling, limbs flailing in the air and her frightened eyes forever haunting you.
You couldn’t save Anakin and you cannot even do the same for your daughter. You failed him. Again.
“What is it?” Leia’s inquiring tone echoes aloud in the quiet buzz of the cargo ship. “Are you okay?” She presses once more, unaware of the inner turmoil gnawing at Obi-Wan’s flesh.
You are still disoriented from the events that transpired mere moments ago. But Obi-Wan’s quiet wheeze of his name drenches your bones in freezing cold water.
“Anakin.”
Something happened back there. Something of utter importance to him – a piece of information that warranted a profound emotion swirling in his sad blue eyes. The last time you saw him like this was when he confessed to killing Anakin–
Anakin.Anakin.Anakin.
Obi-Wan throws his hands around you, a pillar to ground him back in reality. The cold seeps into the crevices of your bones as the intimate pull of dread sets deep in your body, shuddering against your lover’s despairing embrace.
“Is he okay?” Leia whispers, crumpling the burgundy trousers in her small fists. The rim of her round brown eyes trembling. She is upset that her naivety led you straight in the arms of the Inquisitors, potentially setting a heavy bounty on the Jedi’s head and without a doubt, yours as well. Not to mention, there is still the matter of the Third Sister’s vindictive streak over Obi-Wan.
Her battle cry resounds in your ear, resembling that of a wailing child. Obi-Wan stolen under her thumb just before she had the pleasure of obtaining him to eradicate the last vestiges of the Jedi Order. To offer Obi-Wan to Darth Vader, the Emperor’s most loyal dog.
You flash her a tired smile. “He’ll be fine, Princess. Please rest. We have a long way ahead of us.” She nods, eyes droopy, setting off to make the floor as comfortable as she can. Obi-Wan’s fervent utterance of his dead Master’s name is loud in your ears.
“Master. Master Qui-Gon, are you there?”
Princess Leia rolls to face you, her cheeks a shade of pink, “I can’t sleep,” She confides. Obi-Wan softens under your touch.
“My mother used to sing me a song to get me to fall to sleep. Do you wish to hear it?”
She bobs her head, snuggling in the comfort provided by the blanket. Leia might not be aware of her parentage, the connection you both share – you’re not only a friend of her adoptive parents – you are her biological mother. This is as close as you can get to spending time with her and you will be damned if you’ll let a vindictive Inquisitor steal the life of your child away.
Perhaps she may remember the song – it’s all you used to sing to them back when they were in your womb. In different circumstances, in a not-so-distant time and place. Back when Anakin is still alive, when Obi-Wan is not yet plagued by the blood of his Padawan, his brother on his hands, back when the Republic is thriving and the Jedi Order standing proudly in the middle of Coruscant, maintaining order and peace in the galaxy.
“...How wonderful life is while you’re in the world.”
It doesn’t take long for her to succumb to sleep, especially with the whole ordeal of her kidnapping and suddenly having to trust an unknown man with his equally unruly companion and falling – yet still, your daughter is able to stand up on her feet as if nothing major has happened to her.
She is too much of Anakin and it hurts you.
Once her breathing evens out, you force all of your attention to Obi-Wan who is putty in your arms, you evoke a low-sounding whine from his throat as you pull away from the embrace. Your fingers smooth over his frown, and the steel blue of his eyes trembles in distress.
“What happened, Obi-Wan?”
He blinks, glancing at the endless void of darkness as the Cargo Ship transports your small group to a planet safe enough without ever having to worry about the enemies you both have made in your quest to rescue your daughter.
“He–” Obi-Wan pauses, licking his dried lips, “He’s alive.”
Surely, he doesn’t mean…?
“Anakin.”
You detach yourself from his arms as if scalded by the hot magma of Mustafar. A look of hurt crosses Obi-Wan’s features at the obvious signs of your defensive stance. Like he is your enemy. (Perhaps he was, for it was he who had slain Anakin and left him burning to his death)
“What do you mean he’s alive?”
“I– I felt it, Y/N!”
“It’s the Inquisitor, isn’t it?” You ruminate, pacing quietly before his helpless being, “She’s misleading you, Obi-Wan! It’s a trick to frighten you, to frighten us! You watched him burn in Mustafar!”
He flinches at your rawness in your voice– at your vehement denial of his claim. You mourned for Anakin, of the man he used to be . He was a loving husband and a doting father. Obi-Wan spent the first few years with you on Tatooine trying to live your lives as if you hadn’t lost Anakin. Like you never failed to save him, both terrorized by the tangible dreams of his death and memories of his starry eyes gazing upon the life in your stomach with such pure devotion.
It is as if all your pain has been for naught. Anakin is alive and he has fully devoted himself to the Dark Side.
“I felt him through the force,” He confides weakly, seeing Anakin’s red eyes staring right through him. “The Force never lies.”
“That can’t be, Obi-Wan. That’s not true,” Obi-Wan rises sharply, closing in on you cautiously. The clattering of his force-suppressing cuffs causes Leia to turn in her sleep but that does not deter Obi-Wan from pulling you in his tight embrace, “Ani… I am so sorry, my love. Forgive me,” You choke, nails digging and bruising Obi-Wan’s arms.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”
You choke a sob, buckling under Obi-Wan’s embrace, “Anakin, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me… Please.”