Work Text:
Even with how full the Temple was nowadays, it still got quiet at night. Obi-Wan reveled in the stillness after a long day of training with Anakin and trying to maintain his somewhat tenuous connection with the Force. Sure, the noise of crechelings scampering through the hallways or old lineage members loudly arguing over some principle of the Order was nice. Obi-Wan knew enough about the history of the Order to know he should appreciate the way the Temple was full of warmth from so many other beings learning about how luminous the galaxy truly was.
But. Lately Obi-Wan found more and more comfort in the tranquility of the empty hallways, the sleepy peacefulness Obi-Wan could feel in the force when everyone was resting. Ever since Master Koon managed to find half a clone army on the strange planet of Kamino, it felt like the Temple was always thrumming with more energy in the Force than Obi-Wan even knew what to do with.
It was difficult for Obi-Wan to even wrap his head around. A small army’s worth of Mandalorian clones being trained for war on a planet no one had ever heard of? The Kaminoans claimed one of the Jedi had commissioned it, despite the Council finding no sign of such a hefty fund being pulled from the Order’s meager accounts. Shaak Ti’s investigation of the facilities on Kamino had revealed a whole host of issues: chips in their heads, harsh training, numbers instead of names. Even hearing the word “decommissioning” made Obi-Wan sick to his stomach. The whole affair felt like a dark omen, almost as if a very dark future had been prevented. Master Windu had been in his room with a migraine for weeks over it.
And now all of the clones were… here. In the Temple. Where else would they possibly go? The order was taken with each and every one of them, mostly because the men seemed determined to make themselves useful. Despite the way everyone had reassured their new guests that their survival no longer depended on their ability to serve, Obi-Wan had seen that same look in the eyes of the clones that he saw in his own reflection. A desire to help, the feeling like you may crawl out of your skin if you don’t do something. And who were any of the Jedi to deny them?
Obi-Wan’s head spun when he saw how full the Temple was, of men identical to each other in everything but the Force. They kept things running like a well oiled machine. The mess hall had more food and better meals than ever, the Healing Halls were well stocked and easily the loudest they’ve ever been. Master Nu had expressed her utmost gratitude and delight to Obi-Wan the last time he had visited the Archives, because of how many of the clones were excited to learn about the elements of the world that hadn’t been in training. It was wonderful, but everything was just so loud.
Obi-Wan sighed as he finally found himself entering into the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Of all the people in the temple, Anakin was by far the loudest. Force, Anakin Skywalker was a human sandstorm, a gust of a boy that seemed to do nothing but methodically destroy Obi-Wan’s tiny temple apartment. The creche didn’t want the boy, his age and his lack of training meant there was no good clan to put him in, so now Obi-Wan was taking care of him. Making sure his slave chip was removed (Obi-Wan shuddered at the phantom sensation of a bomb collar locked tight around his own neck) and making sure Anakin was adjusting well to life on Coruscant. Everyday now seemed to end with Obi-Wan dead on his feet. Quinlan kept joking that Obi-Wan’s ferocious new padawan was sucking his life force. Sooner or later Obi-Wan might have to agree.
And yet Obi-Wan was having far more difficulty sleeping now than he ever had before Qui-Gon’s death. He rested fitfully if he rested at all. His bones ached after sleep, and Obi-Wan was starting to dread those wicked nights when sleep invaded him entirely. Which was why tonight, after Anakin had acquiesced to the same bedtime he had every night as if it was some new and horrifying punishment, Obi-Wan had wandered the halls, hoping to find some sort of solution to his insomnia.
Obi-Wan made himself comfortable under one of the bigger trees, folding his bare feet under himself and closing his eyes. Meditation would help. If there was nothing else he could do, if all else fails, Obi-Wan has always known he could meditate. Nothing soothed him the same way submitting to the flow of the galaxy did, letting the Force take all of his messy emotions and make them smaller. He crossed his legs and forced his thoughts to linger on the floral scent in the air, the soft feeling of the grass under his splayed hands.
Here in this garden, there was no Anakin, no looming rights cases within the Senate, no grieving of his Master quietly and independently. There were only artificial stars suspended in the air, and the dirt packed tightly under his body.
The longer Obi-Wan tried to clear his mind, the more it became clear that his mental state would not settle with meditation tonight. His thoughts refused to clear enough for him to feel only the easy flow of the Force like a river through him. Obi-Wan could only think of all the things he had to do for Anakin, all the missions he had turned down in order to train his young Padawan. He refused to make the same mistakes Master Qui Gon had made with him. Finally, Obi-Wan gave up the battle and squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught of frustration he was feeling. He huffed and flopped down in the grass on his back. Why in the blazes had the Force guided him to the Room of a Thousand Fountains if not to meditate?
“Would you mind if I sat here?” A voice said from behind him. Obi-Wan startled and pulled himself up to stare at the man who had spoken. It was one of the clones, wearing Jedi robes that looked unnatural on him. Most of the clones wore them nowadays, simply because their blacks weren’t fit to wear without armor. He stood at attention, the scar that cut his face from temple to cheekbone on prominent display. Obi-Wan smiled hesitantly at him.
“Of course. Trouble sleeping?” Obi-Wan asked wryly. The clone sank down on the grass beside him, patting the grass fondly before folding his arms behind his head like a pillow. It was quiet for a moment while Obi-Wan yawned into his hand. He was unsure if he should get up and leave this clone to whatever he wanted in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, or stay here and continue to not meditate. Before Obi-Wan could make up his mind, his unlikely companion answered.
“A better question would be when sleeping hasn’t been trouble. The Jedi Temple is… haunting, if that’s a good word for it,” the man offered. Obi-Wan chuckled at that. He had never gotten to hear how the temple must feel to someone null in the Force like a clone. It made sense that it would feel “haunted”, unable to parse the feelings of ancient history and the echoes of memory in every wall and floor. Obi-Wan wished he could show the man the way it felt like joy was embedded in the very grout between the tiles, how the haunting feeling was the precious lives of every Jedi to walk these hallowed halls.
“Well you’re welcome to stay as long as you want, my meditation was hardly working,” Obi-Wan said, unable to keep the sour note out of his voice. “I’m Obi-Wan, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Comman– uh, Cody. Nice to meet you too. I didn’t think the Jedi had sleepless nights.”
Obi-Wan smiled in spite of himself. Cody had a dry sense of humor that appealed to him, his voice quiet and soothing enough to make him a good late night conversation partner. Obi-Wan had yet to meet too many of the clones. His quest to keep Anakin from burning anything down in his first year at the Temple kept him from considering introducing himself to the clones to be a high priority. But Cody seemed kind, and glowed in the Force like the candles Obi-Wan used for meditating in his apartment.
“Well,” Obi-Wan said, a little sadly, “When you inherit a padawan that seems intent on taking apart every droid he finds and climbing every tall shelf in the temple, it becomes quite difficult to clear your mind enough for sleep.”
“Ah.”
The two of them were quiet for a while, and miraculously Obi-Wan found his eyelids getting heavier and heavier. The grass was soft and forgiving beneath his body, and the warm air in the Room of a Thousand Fountains wrapped around him like a fuzzy blanket. Cody lay close enough that Obi-Wan could twine their hands together if he was so inclined, or if his hands did not feel weighted to the ground. Cody’s force signature was like a balm to Obi-Wan’s spinning thoughts, and Obi-Wan let his eyes slide closed to enjoy it further.
“I didn’t know what grass was before coming here.” Cody’s eyes were turned towards the ceiling with a pure kind of wonder written on his face. Obi-Wan felt it in the Force even with his eyes closed shut. “Kamino is an ocean planet, and Coruscant is so full of buildings I wouldn’t be surprised if the Temple is the only place with flora like this. The first time I saw all of it I realized I might never want to leave.”
Obi-Wan hummed in acknowledgment, smoothing his fingers across the blades of grass with a newfound appreciation for its existence and his own proximity to it. The air was warm enough to make his limbs feel like liquid, and he could feel his own consciousness beginning to drift.
Somehow, despite the fact that Obi-Wan would’ve remembered meeting a kind clone with a scar running down his face, Cody seemed familiar. The kind of familiarity Obi-Wan felt through the Force, stronger than memory or time. As if, somewhere across the galaxy, they were fated to meet. The Force felt like the purring of a tooka cat around them, safe and protected and free of the burdens of reality. Obi-Wan could worry about Anakin in the morning, worry about his training and the potential threats to face tomorrow. Today, the Force had provided him with a new companion.
“Thank you, for the company tonight,” Obi-Wan murmured, unwilling to break the quiet spell that had fallen over the two of them. Cody turned his head to look at Obi-Wan, surprised. “Your presence has… alleviated some of my stress, and I appreciate good conversation.”
Cody smiled and spoke through a yawn, “Of course.”
That night, Obi-Wan slept well for the first time in weeks with the gardens as his bed, a clone curled up beside him and snoring softly as the two of them spent a night away from the harsh realities of the Coruscant they lived on. The stars twinkled brightly above them, bathing the Room of a Thousand Fountains in sparkling light. And somewhere, among stars that belonged universes away, a General silently pulls a worn blanket over his exhausted Commander’s sleeping shoulders.