Imagine the Star Wars [The Rewrites]

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

The next day, he visits the archives and tells you about his old master Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon who bent rules. Qui-Gon who taught him compassion and trust. Qui-Gon who was killed in battle. Was the victory worth the cost?

In turn, he asks about your masters. The first who had been killed in a conflict after being your anchor for five years. The second who barely made an effort. Mundi who's breaking his back conforming you to his ideas. Obi-Wan keeps you company for your entire shift and doesn't flinch when you mention the anger.

When he begins to leave, you stop him by calling his name. You're not sure what to say except, "Thank you." Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for making me feel the most alright I've been in years.

His smile is as warm as always, but it's not quite so bright. It's warm in the quiet way a candle is. He slides his hand over yours where it rests on the desk. It's the only cold thing about him, clammy like he's afraid. You don't understand why until he stares at you with those sincere green eyes and says, "It isn't any trouble," in a low voice that sends your heart pounding. Pounding like you're terrified.

He's there the next day for an update on the correction, he says, but he never speaks to Jocasta. There isn't an update that day or the next or the next. For three weeks, he's there nearly every day for correction updates that never come. But he stays to tell you more stories. Happier stories that manage to make you laugh and settle something in you that you never realized was disquieted.

The first time you see him outside the archives is in a conference with the Supreme Chancellor. You're shadowing Mundi ten feet away from Obi-Wan, but you keep glancing at each other from the corners of your eyes while the other masters talk. It's difficult not to smile. You have to bite your lip to keep it in. So does he.

When the conference dismisses, Mundi turns to you. "What did you learn, padawan?"

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You didn't pay any attention to the meeting at all.

"As I thought," Mundi sighs. "This is a testament to my fears. Without the patience to be attentive to the Chancellor or even Master Yoda, how can you pass the trials? More time in the archives will serve you well, I believe."

"Master," you say, disappointment crushing you. "I thought we'd be combat training today."

Mundi shakes his head. "You're a skilled swordswoman," he says. "It's emotional control that you lack. You need more time in the archives."

So, back to the archives, you go. Under the desk, you stay for two hours, willing your mind blank. Anger leaking from your eyes, wetting your cheeks.

When you sense Obi-Wan approaching, you wipe away the tears and try to steady your breaths. He whispers your name over the desk. "I came for a correction update," he says.

"I'm sorry," you say, pulling yourself up, "I don't know where Jocasta is."

Obi-Wan doesn't respond to that. He's looking at you like you're bleeding out and unaware of it. "What's wrong?"

With anyone else, you'd shrug and tell them it's nothing. But it's Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan who carries your pain in the palm of his hand.

"I've been assigned more time in the archives," you say.

His sigh sounds relieved. "Is that all?"

"No," you say. "No, that's not all. I'm tired, Obi-Wan."

"Tired of working in the archives?"

Elbows on the desk, you bury your head in your hands. "No! I'm tired of being a padawan. I'm tired of masters stretching me beyond where I can reach."

"Isn't that a master's responsibility?" he says gently.