Imagine the Star Wars [The Rewrites]

pyrrhic. [obi-wan x reader] (1/2)

"It's me."

"I wondered if I'd see you again."

You pause before pushing a holofile onto the shelf and asking, "Why?"

"I don't know your name."

"You could've asked Master Mundi," you point out.

He folds his arms and strokes his mustache. "Oh, I did," he said. "And he told me more than I asked for, but he ultimately failed to mention it. Unless, of course, your name is Headstrong, Obstinate Girl."

"No," you say, rolling your eyes. With a sigh, you tell him your name. "I hope you don't think badly of me, Master Kenobi."

Master Kenobi smiles. "Not at all. I've had a headstrong, obstinate padawan," he says. "And please, none of this Master Kenobi business. Call me Obi-Wan."

Anakin was his padawan, you remember. That same screaming frustration from before rushes back. It had been silent while you talked to Master Kenobi. To Obi-Wan. "Shouldn't you be celebrating with Master Skywalker now?" you questioned.

"No time, I'm afraid. He's escorting Senator Amidala home," Obi-Wan explains. "Besides, I've been meaning to ask for an update on the correction I requested."

"Ah," you say. "Jocasta oversees corrections. You should ask her."

Obi-Wan nods. "I see," he says. After a moment's pause, he continues. "Very well."

"Very well," you repeat. "Goodbye, Obi-Wan."

He gives another bright smile. "Goodbye," he says. Then he says your name. When he walks away, you're smiling, too.

It's two days before you see him again. Two long days. You're tending the desk (sitting under it and avoiding everyone) when you sense his presence. It's still a moment before he speaks, calling your name. "What in the blazes are you doing under there?" he asks.

Slowly, you pull yourself up to face him. "Obi-Wan," you greet him. "Jocasta's on break."

"That's not an answer," Obi-Wan says, a smile playing at his lips as he folds his arms over his chest.

A moment's hesitation. "I'd rather not talk to people," you answer, taken aback by your own honesty.

"Doesn't that make it difficult to work?" Obi-Wan asks. "Which begs the question... Why are you working in the archives? I've seen you here more than with Master Mundi."

A bitter laugh escapes you. "I recently had a... lapse in patience. Mundi assigned me here for as long as necessary to learn a lesson, he says."

"I take it you're not overly fond of Master Mundi."

You shrug. "I'm not used to him. I'd probably like him if I'd known him longer."

Obi-Wan furrows his brows. "Not used to him?"

"Mundi's my third master," you sigh, leaning against the desk. "The first was killed, and the second couldn't stand me for longer than a year. I've been with Mundi for two now."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Obi-Wan says. "That doesn't sound easy."

You shake your head. "It's life. I don't think it's meant to be easy."

"Perhaps not," he allows. "But I know how it is to lose a master. I know the kind of pain that brings. The damage it does."

You believe him. You're not used to trusting masters, but this is different. No other master has tried to understand the hurt. They brush it off as a frivolous emotion that you should have been trained out of years ago. But Obi-Wan is looking at you differently than anyone has. He looks like he could fit all your pain into the palm of his hand and carry it with him.