Chapter Text
|| New Cover for the 2nd Book of The Chosen Series
my edit. pls credit if shared. links dev tumblr ||
It’s quiet.
So quiet that it feels like the whole world stopped breathing.
The air is still and heavy with the unmistakable sting of burnt from blaster fire and plasma. Even the ashen smoke is frozen in the air, the dawn’s cold blue light petrifying it, laid over the entirety of the temple’s stone like a white veil covering the dead.
The stillness is unnatural, forbidden in the temple’s walls for it never ceased to breathe with life, with light, with living Force. The jedi temple, the beacon of the Jedi’s light in the galaxy was made to always give hope and strength even in the most despairing times. Nothing and no one could succumb it to stillness for the Force is always pulsing with life through the ancient stone.
And yet, the air is dead now and the Force has forsaken the sacred home.
Unmoving shapes, big and small, casted on the ground and burrowed in the shadows, the darkness entangled tightly around them like dead roots, thirsty for life. The smell of burnt even thicker, hovering over it.
Lightsaber wounds.
The awareness comes so violently, like a collision with a rogue wave of water, cold and unforgiving, it strikes him awake and Obi-Wan gasps. Ashen air attacks his lungs and his throat and eyes are burning, rejecting it and he’s chocking. His body trembles from the exertion and fighting to breathe again, his feet give up under him and he falls on his knees. Hands drop flat on the stone, to support himself, unwillingly touching something. His eyes slide to see and the next gasp makes his whole body shivering, not from lack of air, but shock.
A padawan. Dead. With a black hole, where his heart should be.
His right hand flies to his mouth to stop a nausea coming, or to muffle a scream, is not clear, and only one single thought flashes through his mind, raw and cruel, and he can’t help the breath of relief escaping him at it.
Not his Padawan.
Not his Anakin.
Where is Anakin?
He stands abruptly, staggering and all the shadows he saw earlier are revealed to his shivering eyes, dozens and dozens of it, his mind multiplying it as dread tears through him.
“Anakin!”, he screams, voice breaking, eyes blurring with barely sustained tears, as he throws himself and starts to grope and turn every body over, big and small, so he could see.
And he sees hundreds of bodies.
“Anakin!”
“Anakin!”
“Anakin!”
“Please, answer me. Where are you? Anakin!”
He trips over bodies, searching despairingly and blindly for soft blond curls and familiar, warm hands, yet at the same time willing to search forever, to never find Anakin among all the dead bodies before him. He stumbles through torn limbs more often than not and tries hard to recall the exact shape of his Padawan’s fingers, its length, the exact shade of the boy’s skin or the precise spot of a mole and Obi-Wan is losing his mind.
“Anakin. Please.” And he’s not sure what he begs for.
Please let me find you. Please don’t let me. Please be alive. Please don’t be dead…
After unbearable long time, his mind finally registers that all the rest of the bodies are the wrong height and his Padawan is not among them. With a deep breath that does nothing to sooth his inner turmoil, he makes himself to move and leave the main hall. He can’t think clearly and has no destination in mind, he’s roaming through the dead silent temple and crying Anakin’s name over and over again.
Somehow he ends up before the high council’s room and he quickly opens it, calling for Anakin, voice rasping from the strain on his chords.
“Anakin.”, he turns from side to side and upon finding nothing, steps to leave, however a quiet sob stops him dead.
It’s the first sound he has ever heard since he woke up in this hell and the possibility of it being Anakin brings him joy and alarm both.
He walks slowly to a seat, the closest to that sound and prays with all his might for it to be Anakin.
“Master.”
Obi-Wan rushes to the small curled body of his Padawan, trembling so hard he thinks his own eyesight is shaking too much. He falls on his knees and hugs him tightly, giving him his warmth and stroking gently his hair, to calm the younger's distress.
“I’m scared, Master. I’m so scared.”
“It’s alright. Dear one, I’m here. All is fine now.”, he tries to reassure the boy with a soothing voice, caressing the younger’s cheeks and wiping his tears away. Blue eyes filled with unease look back at him, seeking for protection, for safety and he takes small cold hands in his, rubbing it gently.
He must take Anakin away from here. He lifts a knee to stand up, while turning to check the door. All of the sudden, the room got instantly darker and he is too late to realize that a long shadow fell over them, locking him in darkness. A fraction of second and the sound of plasma humming and tearing, freezes him in dread, as he turns to Anakin.
Too late.
“NO!”
A split of second too late.
Gasp. Quiet and helpless.
Blue plasma emerges from the small chest, that jerks in tremors before it stills.
No, no, no, no, no…
“ANAKIN!”
Obi-Wan surges to embrace the smaller body, pressing him close, like he's chasing for the plasma to pierce him as well. And it does, because Obi-Wan feels a growing hole in his chest, and pain, so much pain, his mind is wiped out in pure agony, his whole body crumbling to pieces and burning completely. He feels it. He feels he’s dying.
Only he’s breathing still and then he tears himself inches away from Anakin’s unmoving body, he sees no plasma binding them and only one black hole. He’s disoriented and his mind is ringing, there’s a fire where his heart is and for a long moment he doesn’t understand.
Why?
Why is he still breathing, when Anakin died? He feels already dead.
A trembling hand moves a lock away from Anakin’s closed eyes and his Padawan looks like he’s sleeping. Yes, he’s just sleeping.
“Anakin, open your eyes. Please, hm? I beg you…”, he repeats the chain of words, like a pray and waits, when he’ll stop breathing. For he will eventually. It’s just taking him longer. That’s all.
Obi-Wan smiles as if the thought gave him immense comfort, though tears still roll down his eyes unleashed. He kisses closed eyes, urging it to open for he wants to see the clear blue behind it. His greatest, single, last wish before his death. The boy feels colder and colder in his hands and he hugs him tighter, so tight, his heart may spring out of his chest and into the hole to spark life there again. Obi-Wan crunches, his forehead hitting the ground and he weeps.
Hopeless. Devastated. Broken.
“Why?”
Why is he still alive? Why is Anakin not? Why couldn’t he save him?
There’s a shift and Obi-Wan remembers that the killer, Anakin’s killer, is in front of them.
He wants to tear them to pieces, to stab them with his lightsaber thousands of times, to burn every inch of their body, he wants…
But that is too hard now. He has no strength for that. He just wants his Anakin back.
“Why?”, he asks and this time he’s waiting for an answer. Then none comes, he stands up slowly, his feet too weak, barely enough to support him and not fall down. He may not stand a second time.
“Why did you kill him?”
He has to know. He hast to know the reason they killed Anakin. Killed an unarmed crying child.
Obi-Wan seeks eyes to pierce with all his resolve and strength, however he finds none. A black hideous iron mask is in front of him and everything else is wrapped in darkness. The unexpected sight takes him aback and he’s starring with wide bewildered eyes at the unsightly creature. He has to stretch up his neck, while looking at them for their height is close to 7 feet and looks like a mountain of iron, with that heavy armor they wear.
The jedi can finally discern the wheezing coarse noise coming in a slow, rhythmic pattern from the creature and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s their breathing. Pain bleeds through every hissing breath and Obi-Wan winces involuntarily at it. It sounds like dying.
He falls numb in shock.
“He was too weak.”, and the voice straining to speak sounds even worse.
The young Master shakes firmly his head in denial, scattering down frozen tears from his face. “No, no, Anakin is the bravest boy I know. Strong, unwavering. No one could match his strength. He endured so much, so much pain…”, new tears invade his eyes, as he’s thinking of how much pain and suffering the boy had to go through.
“You know nothing.”, the hoarse voice gets more painful to hear, as rage leaks through it. “You’re blind. You see only what you want to see. Anakin Skywalker knows only pain and fear.”, Obi-Wan can’t stop the sob of hurt scratching his throat and he can’t say anything back, but shaking his head, because somewhere those words ring too much like truth. “He will burn from it… and I am what is left of him.”
Obi-Wan jerks his head up, shocked eyes searching for any sign of him hearing it wrong. Because that is not possible. That, that agony in shape of man or the shadow of it, can’t be Anakin. He squeezes tighter his Padawan in his arms, still unmoving, still cold, and he shakes his head at the sheer absurdity of it.
And yet, he’s already stepping towards that ghost wrapped in tons of iron, for he feels almost nothing alive in that weight. He takes one hand away from the boy and lifts it up, slowly, trembling, to reach for the mask. After hovering for moments over it, afraid to touch like he’d break something, Obi-Wan pulls the mask away, very carefully, inch by slow inch, until he uncovers the ghastly face.
Tears fall again, while his eyes widen in mortifying shock.
Scars. Deep, still fresh, so red it looks like still bleeding, scars of burns, of fire ravaging human flesh in nothing but excruciating pain and Obi-Wan remembers. He hears the splitting screams of agony, strangled, suffocating, so clear in his ears, that he can’t deny it anymore.
This is Anakin after falling then… then he struck him down.
And Obi-Wan didn’t know he could feel more pain, after seeing Anakin dying in his hands.
There’s more. So much more.
For even this shadow is a part of Anakin and he can’t hate it.
He can never hate anything belonging to Anakin.
He wants to stroke the marred face, but can only shiver above it, afraid, so afraid to hurt him more and Force, how unbearable it is to not be able to help, to sooth the bleeding soul of his Padawan in any way. Yellow, flicker to familiar blue, then back, yet he recognizes the eyes of his dear boy, even with him looking so broken, scarred, so helpless.
Obi-Wan stands on his tiptoes and brings his forehead closer to the other’s, barely touching, his and Anakin’s gesture of full trust and devotion – a promise between them.
“I will save you Anakin. Every part of you.”
A dying hissing voice fades out in his mind.
“Master, please, help me.”
“…ster.”
“Master!”
Obi-Wan gasps, his hand clenching deeply over his burning heart and he jerks awake, bending over, as his body shivers violently in the memory of devastating pain. The other hand goes to his tear-stained face, gripping his mouth hard to not scream in terror. He’s dropping his head to his knees, fighting to steady his breathing and only that.
Just breathing.
“Master! What happened? Are you alright? Something’s wrong with you. I’m coming!” Anakin, the living Anakin, says agitatedly through their bond and Obi-Wan sighs weakly. His Padawan became very sensitive to anything he can call “intense feelings”, so much, that it’s getting impossible to hide even the smallest of things from him. Not that the latest nightmares are small.
And this one in particular.
“I’m alright. I just woke up. You don’t need to come.”
“You sure? You sound tired.”
It’s not “sound”, it’s “feel”, but it’s all the same to Anakin.
“I think the swaying on the ship is getting to me. Couldn’t rest so well.”
“What? It’s barely moving. Master, since when did you have motion sickness?”
Obi-Wan sighs again, wiping his eyes, but still stays clutched, he needs more time to recover. It was perhaps the worst nightmare in… he ever had.
A bit more time. More of Anakin’s voice.
“It’s on the water, of course it’s moving.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny Obi-Wan. So, should we travel by foot now?”
“Why not? At least I wouldn’t end up on any strange ship on water.”
“It would take us eons. ‘sides you said, it would be nice to have a vacation.”
“So, infiltrating illegally on a ship with politicians now, it’s called vacation?”
“Details... And it’s not illegally?! We had an invitation.”
“Which you snatched from some poor man right in front of the entrance.” , he sighs, already breathing lighter, a small smile rising. Anakin did wonders to him, without him trying.
“Believe me, we needed it more than him. He looked green from motion sickness, I bet my credits, he didn’t even want to come.”
“He looked green, because he’s Nautolan, Anakin. That’s their skin color. And you don’t have credits to bet, you spent everything.”
“…”
Obi-Wan chuckles at the feat of rendering Anakin speechless or unable to come with a comeback. He stands up from his bed, feet wobbling, but he manages to not fall right back, noting as well his tunic and bed sheets wet from sweat. He takes it off for laundry service (and avoid Anakin finding it out) and walks to the bathroom.
“Anyways. Here is nice, we have a fancy room with service. The meal is free and they even have a pool.”
He’s about to smile, but then his eyes meet his pale sunken reflection in the mirror, it vanishes.
“Ah, there is where you ran off. And here I thought you had some mission planned without me and already got to the surveillance system.”
“…”
Well, Obi-Wan didn’t exactly bluff, he knows Anakin too well for that, but still, the silence is unsettling and can only mean that he hit the nail right on the head.
“Anakin.”, he says it slowly in his mind and takes a deep breath, he should have known when his Padawan suddenly took him out on their free day, that it wouldn’t end well for him.
“I swear it’s nothing like that. And I’m not in the surveillance rooms now. I’m about to reach the pool, so you’ll know.”
“Why? Were the rooms locked so hard you couldn’t get inside?”
“What lock, it was a piece of- … Master!”, Obi-Wan can’t help but laugh loudly at that. He caught him good. He’s taking a bath, starting to emerge himself from the maze of his heavy feelings and pain from the nightmare. He can’t ever forget it, for it’s engraved raw and deep inside of him, but he learned to distract his attention away from it.
It’s easy, with a fuming Anakin, so lively, alive, in his mind that he almost succeeds in locking it all in a box and shoving it away for the time being. At least until his Padawan is not so close, to find and open it by mistake.
“By the way, I have a story for us.”
Obi-Wan grumbles, that is by Anakin’s rules always ending in a disaster, a crashed ship, at least one damage of public propriety and a hell of explaining to come up with the local authorities and jedi order, not to mention that every time, Obi-Wan is the one to do the makeover, infiltrate and make up lies on the way, by constantly smiling.
“In short, you’re filthy rich and searching for a partner. You made a lot of enemies, ‘cause you’re handsome, rich and stole all the ladies’ hearts. Therefore, you had to hire a jedi as a bodyguard. Did I mention you’re rich?”
The jedi Master lifts an unimpressed brow and Anakin must have felt it or know it by heart by now, to detect it even through their bond.
“And the jedi accepted it.”, Obi-Wan finished for him with an incredulous voice.
“A Padawan accepted the job for a hearty sum, because he’s broke and it’s a private mission, the order knows nothing of it. And it’s even the truth.”
Obi-Wan lifts his hand to his temple, he feels a headache coming. Anakin’s stories get more and more creative or downright absurd. He drops a long, very long sigh.
“Pray tell then, what is this Padawan’s Master doing, not informing the lost soul that what he’s doing is forbidden and he’ll be severely punished?”
“Oh, his Master is on a vacation, he has finally a week off and wanted to rest at last without his annoying Padawan around.”
It’s hard to miss Anakin’s smirk in his tone. Obi-Wan sighs again, returning in the room and searching for his clothes.
“I’m impressed you got at least one thing right, minus the vacation.”
“See? You agree it’s a good story and mostly true.” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes at “mostly”. He opens the wardrobe and finds a suspicious garment bag instead of where his jedi clothes should be.
“Anakin.”, the slow deliberate tone, with forced patience threading it, it’s a signal for Anakin to explain.
“Yes?” as innocent as ever.
“Where are my robes?”
“I took them to the laundry, you don’t need it anyway.”
He checks, but yes, Anakin took all of his clothes only the new hanger is in it.
“Anakin!”, the voice is so low, he’s nearly growling in his mind.
“Good news Master, you don’t have to worry, I already did some shopping and found a neat outfit for you, that I’m sure you’ll love.”
Obi-Wan is about to scream in his mind, but he has self-control, he’s above it, he’s a Master after all and jedi Masters don’t strangle their Padawans in anger. It’s not the jedi way.
He takes the bag out and opens it, the least he can do; the thought that Anakin bought him clothes only very, very little pacifying.
“It’s green… and it’s a suit.”
“Dark green to be exact. It’s on trend right now and yes, it’s a dinner suit.”
The young Master touches the silky fabric, gliding over the soft, delicate surface with wonder. It must have costed him a fortune. It’s ridiculous, but it also warms his heart, more than he’s ready to admit.
“I know you like lighter colors, but they didn’t have the right shade of blue, so I took the next best thing. It will match perfectly your hair and bring out that subtle green in your eyes. Do you… do you not like it?”
Obi-Wan feels his heartbeat increasing, making him breathless and rushing too much blood to his cheeks and ears. Stars, how can he not like it, then Anakin put so much thought, when he was choosing it. For him.
Thoughts about such small insignificant things as color and what better will suit his eyes. Force, only Anakin can be subtle and palpable in one go.
“I like it.”, he hears himself admitting and feels Anakin’s wave of relief through their bond. The man dresses up, looking in the mirror and can’t fight down the embarrassment filling him. “It’s…it’s too tight, Anakin.”
“That can’t be. I got your measurements right. It should fit you perfectly.”
Obi-Wan glances at his reflection one more time. That’s the problem, it fits too well and the rich fabric clings so tightly to his every line, too close to… indecent for his tastes and the low-cut is just outrageous.
“It’s…it’s too revealing.”
“Master, two layers instead of five, is not revealing.”, he hears the eyeroll in his Padawan’s voice.
Obi-Wan shifts, turning over a few times, to get used to the garments, which of course he fails, the fabric uncomfortably tight, yet soft on his skin, making him excessively self-aware. He sighs. He’ll go along with Anakin’s ploy, the sooner he’s done with it (and is out of this suit), the better.
“Where are you?” , the jedi Knight finally asks, leaving their room and trying to not look too conspicuous in the unfamiliar attire and without the lightsaber at his belt (he’s supposed to be on vacation after all).
“Meet you at the banquet hall in… soon.”
“Remind me, why must I spend my precious vacation with politicians and snobs?”
“Oh, it’s not that bad. Just some kind senators and big shots of the Republic chit-chatting. They even do charity.”
“Lovely.”
“And there’s Padme.”
“Padme’s busy.”
“When she’s not… Doesn’t matter, I’m sure you’ll survive. Have fun.”
Obi-Wan sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, as tall transparisteel doors slide and the heat of the crowd, buzzing murmur, dizzying exotic perfume and the blinding glow of the sophisticated space, invade his senses.
He takes a slow, deep breath and implores the Force to give him enough strength to withstand it all, as well as secretly praying his day wouldn’t end up with any need to pay exorbitant damage costs for the rest of his life.
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Obi-Wan's suit nobody asked for [ here ]