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From the moment they met as toddlers, Quinlan always seemed to be worrying about Obi-Wan. He didn’t mind, though. Someone had to keep his self-sacrificing, too-compassionate best friend out of trouble, or at least the kind of trouble that would get him killed. Quinlan far preferred getting them both into the sort of trouble that caused eyes to roll and heads to shake as they passed in the Temples. He knew Obi disliked it sometimes, but he always managed to get his friend to forget about that with another outrageous suggestion.
There was something more going on now, though. Something that had to do with Obi’s soulmate situation, as Quinlan liked to put it. Obi had sent back the confirmation code in the middle of Quinlan’s last mission, but nothing else. When Quinlan tried to poke him about it through the bond they’d built up since childhood, Obi had been closed off. With so much distance between them, all they could communicate was feelings, and given his mission parameters and the trouble he and his master had been hip deep in by that point, Quinlan hadn’t been able to comm to see what was wrong.
When Quinlan got back to the Temple, he settled the clingy, traumatized human boy he’d barely rescued from being killed by a Hutt along with his slave mother into the crèche and then headed straight for Obi’s quarters. He allowed his awareness of the Force to spread out as he approached the rooms, checking to see if Obi was even there and if he was alone. This was probably not the type of conversation to have around Master Jinn, who always got that pinched look whenever the topic of soulmates came up.
Quinlan buzzed the announcer and waited with outward perfect Jedi patience, although he pushed concern over his bond to Obi along with a hurry-it-up jolt. The door swished open, revealing that Quinlan’s worries had been well-founded. Obi looked like death warmed over, dark circles under his eyes, sallow skin that made his freckles stand out, and days' worth of fine growth on his chin he hadn’t bothered to shave. Quinlan wondered if he’d managed to get any sleep in the three weeks since he sent his last message.
Obi grabbed him by the sleeve with a gloved hand. That startled him. Obi had given up on the glove tradition for unbonded soulmates more than two years prior, saying that it was up to the Will of the Force now, a mocking twinkle in his eye for his master’s favorite phrase. Yet here he was, covered from neck to feet in cloth or leather.
Without a word, Obi pulled him inside. He dragged Quinlan over to the low cream couch that dominated the communal living space before letting go. Then he dropped down onto the age-softened cushions, elbows propped on his knees, face in his hands.
Quinlan carefully sat down next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. This went beyond anything he had expected. Obi radiated misery and confusion. That wasn’t exactly the typical reaction to finding the location of one’s soulmate.
“I may never forgive you for prodding me to search,” Obi finally said, voice thick with what Quinlan hoped wasn’t tears.
His heart lurched. A reaction this bad could only be from a few things. Since Obi had bothered to cover up, his soulmate wasn’t dead. Not like Quinlan’s. The other options were far worse, though.
“Are they Sith?” he asked quietly, no judgement in his voice and pushing enough care-compassion-soothing through their bond to smother Obi in it if it were tangible.
“No, not that.” Obi’s voice took on a shadow of the relief Quinlan felt and pushed toward him.
It wasn’t a reflection on someone if their soulmate was a Sith. All Jedi knew that. Anyone could Fall, and those Force-sensitives born in or near the Sith Empire had almost no chance not to unless they were fortunate enough to be smuggled out.
But Obi’s lineage had particularly bad luck when it came to soulmates, especially his Fallen Padawan-brother. Quinlan knew that was one of the reasons he’d put off his search. He would feel awful if his prodding had resulted in Obi drawn further into internal conflict because of a Sith soulmate.
Obi drew on deep breaths and finally raised his head from his heads. Yes, those were tears clinging to his dark eyelashes.
“They-they’re Mandalorian !” he choked out.
Quinlan collapsed into the back of the couch, stunned. While not as bad as a Sith, that was…that was bad. Even if Obi ever met his soulmate, chances were good it would be on the battlefield. Would either of them even realize? Would the only chance to activate it come from being a prisoner?
“What are you going to do?” Quinlan asked, projecting deep sympathy down their bond.
Obi waved his covered hands as if that was the only explanation needed. Quinlan supposed it was. It hurt him to see his friend wrecked like this. He couldn’t help but feel it was all his fault.
“I’ll have to stay away from Mandalorian space as best I can. What else is there?” Obi finally offered, chin tucked against his chest as he slumped backwards.
Quinlan hesitated then suggested, “You could go look for them. We’re allowed, even somewhere like the Mandalorian Empire.” When Obi lifted incredulous blue eyes to stare at him, he continued, “Maybe they would be willing to come back here.”
Obi let out a derisive snort, the kind he reserved for Quinlan’s craziest plans.
“There hasn’t been a Mandalorian defector in centuries. People go there and never come back. Even if I could get in and out without getting caught, I doubt even a soulmate would be enough to convince them.”
What Obi didn’t say but Quinlan knew he meant was that he didn’t think he, in particular, would be enough to convince his soulmate to come back to the Republic with him. Not because of the strong loyalty the Empire seemed to inspire or anything like that. Just that even his soulmate wouldn’t find him worthy of it.
Quinlan silently cursed the Force and then felt a little bad about it. Still, this newest turn of events would probably solidify not only Obi’s belief that his lineage was cursed in regards to soulmates—and they did seem to be on a horrible streak—but also his ridiculously low self worth. Unfortunately, Quinlan didn’t think there was anything he hadn’t already tried to combat both. Trying to find his soulmate was supposed to help Obi, not turn into this disaster.
So Quinlan decided to do what he was best at and redirect.
“Well, looks like it’ll be you and me against the galaxy together for a long time, then!” he tried to say cheerfully, knocking a fist into Obi’s shoulder.
Obi rolled his head and glared over at his manic grin for a moment before sighing and nodding.
“Why don’t we go out for some drinks. I just…I want to forget for a while.”
Quinlan’s grin softened. “Sure, Obes. Let’s go do that.”