Star Wars fic: Dirt in the Machine (4)
Mar. 7th, 2012 11:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardThis chapter brings in material from the EU -- specifically from the Clone Wars comics. Hopefully it's fairly self-explanatory without prior knowledge of the EU.
Thanks to Dogstar for the beta! Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3
Somewhat to Obi-Wan’s surprise, Dooku takes her to what must be his private holocomm chamber. Obi-Wan programs her ident code and the Jedi Council’s information in, frowning a little when she gets the pingback that means the Council is out of session at the moment, would she like to leave a message? She puts in Yoda’s information instead, waiting until she gets a positive response, and steps up onto the platform next to Count Dooku as Yoda flickers into existence in front of her, pale and blue.
“Good to see you it is, Obi-Wan,” Yoda says. “Say the same for you, Count Dooku, I cannot.”
Dooku inclines his head slightly. “As ever, Master Yoda, it is a pleasure to speak to you again.”
Yoda ignores him. “Well you are, Master Kenobi?”
“I am recovering, Master, thank you for asking,” Obi-Wan replies.
Mace Windu appears beside Yoda, slightly out of breath. “Obi-Wan, it’s good to see you on your feet. Anakin’s report on your condition was somewhat alarming.”
“For me as well. Masters, Count Dooku has asked me to present an offer to the Jedi Council on his behalf, on the condition that neither the Senate or the Supreme Chancellor be informed.”
Windu and Yoda both glance at Dooku, who doesn’t speak. “It’s the middle of the night here,” Windu says finally. “It will take some time to assemble the Council.”
“Record this message and consider it at your leisure,” Dooku orders. “I assure you that Master Kenobi isn’t going anywhere.”
“Very well,” Windu says. “Continue.”
Obi-Wan clasps her hands behind her back, breathing in. “On Geonosis last year the Count informed told me that there was a second Sith Lord in the Galactic Senate. As you know, Masters, the Jedi Council investigated the claims and found no evidence of its veracity. The Count has informed me once more that the Sith is still present in the Senate and has offered to reveal his identity to the Jedi Council with several conditions. First of all, the Senate must agree to treat peacefully with the Confederacy. Secondly, the Sith in the Senate must be removed from power. Third, he wants me.”
Windu, who has been nodding along with this, blinks and stares at her. “Beg pardon?”
Obi-Wan waits a moment for Dooku to chime in, but when he doesn’t, she says, “The Count has made it quite clear that one of the requirements of this bargain is my inclusion as a hostage.”
“Although I hope that Master Kenobi will become more than that in time,” Dooku says, with an amused edge in his voice that makes the hair go up on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck.
“The return of the hostages is non-negotiable, Count,” Windu says. “Both Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker must be returned before any further action is taken once your claims have been investigated.”
“Oh, Skywalker you can have, if he’ll leave his master,” Dooku says. “I have no use for him. But Obi-Wan Kenobi stays with me.”
“To give a Jedi Knight to the Sith an unhappy option is,” Yoda says, his face inscrutable. “Require further discussion, this will.”
“Of course,” Dooku says. “I expect nothing less. Present my offer to the Jedi Council. Meditate on it. Talk amongst yourselves. Remember that if the Supreme Chancellor or the Senate hears of this, Skywalker and Kenobi will die.”
“You have made that quite clear,” says Windu. “Obi-Wan, stay strong and trust in the Force. We will not allow harm to come to you or your Padawan.”
“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan says, bowing. “May the Force be with you, Masters.”
“And with you, Obi-Wan.”
Dooku flicks a hand at the projector to turn it off. “Well done, Master Kenobi,” he says. “I’m sure it won’t take them too long to come to a decision, not with the lives of two Jedi at stake.”
“The Council will not agree to the use of a Jedi Knight as a bargaining chip, Dooku,” Obi-Wan warns him. “You were a Jedi Master once. You would do well to remember that some things are not negotiable.”
“Everything is negotiable, Master Kenobi. Including you. Your…” He lingered over the pause, a small smile playing around his lips. “…honor.”
“Jedi have no honor, Count. You know that.”
“Jedi like to believe that. You ought to know better, Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t shudder this time, though it’s a near thing because it’s not merely her body that he’s threatening. Dooku is a Sith Lord; he wants her soul.
“I am a Jedi Knight. Your Sith tricks will not work on me,” she says instead.
“I can wait,” Dooku smiles. He doesn’t touch her. He doesn’t have to. Instead he beckons at her the way he might a pet. “Come with me.”
Obi-Wan follows him; she doesn’t have a choice. Her booted steps are near silent on the floor as they leave the holocomm chamber, proceeding down a hallway that looks more or less the same as all the others. With the Force, she could probably pinpoint exactly where she was in the ship, following the glowing tracks of her presence back to the med room and maybe even to the hangar where she and Anakin must have been brought onboard. Without it she’s as lost as any Force-null being – well, perhaps not quite; even without the Force behind her gaze her eyes pick out tiny imperfections in the walls and floor, differentiating one corridor from the other, marking out weak spots and differences and storing them mentally away in the archives of her memory against some future necessity of knowledge.
Somewhat to her surprise, Count Dooku leads her into one of the ship’s hangar bays. Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why until she sees who’s waiting there and barely conceals her automatic grasp for a lightsaber that isn’t there.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Asajj Ventress scowls, her hand going to one of her own lightsabers. The Darksider is flanked by two of Dooku’s Dark Jedi, Tol Skorr, whom Obi-Wan has read about in Master Tholme’s intelligence reports but never met personally, and Obi-Wan’s old friend Quinlan Vos, who’d defected from the Order just over a year ago. They’ve known each other since they were both Padawans; anyone who didn’t know Vos as well as she does would have missed the flash of panic in his eyes when he saw her.
“Ventress,” Obi-Wan says coldly. “Skorr. Vos.”
“Hello, Obi-Wan,” Ventress says after a moment’s consideration and a glance for confirmation at her master. She prowls around Obi-Wan, trailing her fingers across Obi-Wan’s chest, and smiles – predatory, dangerous. “What brings a Jedi like you to a place like this?”
“Not my own intentions, I assure you, Asajj,” Obi-Wan says.
The other woman hooks her fingers into Obi-Wan’s belt, smiling. “Not so brave without your lightsaber, are you, Obi-Wan?”
“I didn’t need a lightsaber to escape your prison on Rattatak, Asajj,” Obi-Wan reminds her, smiling back and letting an edge of her bad mood finally shine through. “Or don’t you remember?”
Ventress’s smile vanishes abruptly and she closes her fist on Obi-Wan’s belt, pulling her close enough to kiss. “I remember you stole my master’s lightsaber. And my ship!” She grabs Obi-Wan’s chin, her fingers tight enough to bruise. “If your Jedi tricks are so powerful, Obi-Wan, then why are you still here?”
“I have her Padawan,” Dooku intervenes.
“Skywalker?” Ventress says, momentarily distracted. “Let me kill him for you, Master.”
“As tempting as the offer is, I require him to keep Master Kenobi here from doing anything rash. For the time being, at least. Unless, of course, she decides to take me up on my offer.”
“No,” Obi-Wan says, flat.
“What do you want with this Jedi, Master?” Skorr demands. “Kenobi’s high up in Republic command. She’ll know more than that Jedi spy Shylar –”
“There are other things that I want from Master Kenobi besides information,” Dooku says. “For example, that she take your place, as she is at least twice as intelligent as you.”
Skorr scowls. “I’ve heard all about Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he says. “You’re shorter than I expected, Jedi.”
“And you could do with washing your hair more than twice a year, Darksider,” Obi-Wan returns coldly. She raises her hands and shoves Asajj Ventress away, knocking aside the other woman’s arm as Ventress moves to strike her. A shake from Dooku’s head stops his protégé and Ventress steps back, scowling.
“If this is yet another pathetic display of everything I could gain from joining you, Dooku, then it’s a very poor show,” Obi-Wan goes on, drawing herself up straight. “Unless you actually do plan on torturing me, in which case I advise you to get on with it, I’d like to be escorted back to my cell. The company here has just become…insufferable.”
To her distaste, Dooku looks more amused than anything else. “If you insist, Master Kenobi. Commander Ventress and I have something to discuss, anyway.”
He raises a hand to get the attention of two of his magnaguards, who fall into position on either side of Obi-Wan. She leaves the hangar with her back straight, aware of Asajj Ventress’s gaze hungry on the back of her neck, like she’s thinking about getting it between her hands and squeezing. Well, she’s never liked Obi-Wan; she probably is.
They’re most of the way back to the med room when she hears footsteps behind her. “I’ll take General Kenobi the rest of the way,” Quinlan Vos says, catching up to the magnaguards. “The Count’s orders.”
It must be, because the magnaguards leave Obi-Wan with her old friend without a moment’s hesitation, proceeding down the hallway with heavy clicks of their metal feet on the duranium floor. Obi-Wan crosses her arms over her chest, wincing at the way it pulls at the healing wound on her left arm, and turns to face Vos.
“Come to plead for your new master, Quin?” she demands.
The year or so since Obi-Wan had seen him last hasn’t really changed him. He’s the same old Quin, minus the Jedi robes, now exchanged for black leather that leaves his arms bare, showing off the yellow Kiffar markings across his left forearm. Obi-Wan glances at the lightsaber on his hip, wondering her chances of getting to it before Quin can stop her, but they aren’t good; Quin’s just as fast as she is, without the wounds and with the Force to help him.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Obi-Wan,” he says.
“I didn’t expect to be here. I’m sure you can ask your new master for the details, as I’ve been in a bacta tank for the past two days.”
“I can sense your injuries,” Quinlan says. “Why aren’t you using the Force to heal yourself more quickly?”
“I can’t. Count Dooku has some kind of drug that blocks the neural connection to the midichlorians that allow us to manipulate the Force.” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you don’t know about that.”
“Count doesn’t tell us everything,” he shrugs. “Or all that much, come to think of it.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised,” Obi-Wan says bitterly. “What do you want, Quinlan? You want to torture me too? Threaten to kill my Padawan? Maybe make an example of me for Tholme and Yoda, like you did with Master K’Kruhk? Oh, yes, Quin, I heard about that. What started out as simple spying has turned into something more; you have gone over to the Dark Side.” She turns away from him, deliberately cruel. “Take me back to my cell. I have nothing to say to a traitor.”
Quinlan grabs her arm to stop her, his fingers digging into the wound there. Obi-Wan bites back a cry of pain and he lets go immediately, apologizing and holds out his hand with the Force gathered around it – silent peace-offering.
“Fine,” Obi-Wan says shortly, clutching at her arm. She hisses out through her teeth as coolness descends, the muscle mending itself, the flesh knitting back together over it, leaving behind a lingering soreness and what Obi-Wan knows will be an ugly scar; Quin’s never been a particularly delicate healer. “Thanks,” she adds, grudging.
“You want me to do the rest?” Quin offers, though he looks rather dubious about his own abilities in that arena.
“Just give me a boost,” Obi-Wan says. Dark Jedi or not, it would be foolish to refuse his help. “Bacta will do the rest.”
She sighs in relief as the pain recedes, Quinlan frowning in concentration as he passes his hands over her wounds, patching up the ones on her torso and healing the graze on her leg completely. “You’re pretty beat up, Obi-Wan,” he says. “What happened? You’re not usually this clumsy.”
“What do you think?” Obi-Wan says, taking the opportunity to lean against the wall. “I got tired, I got careless, I got shot – and I got myself and my Padawan captured for it, so that now Dooku has leverage when he plays his tricks with the Council. What do you care anyway, Quin? Not like we’re playing for the same team anymore.”
“There’s more going on here than you know, Obi-Wan,” Quin insists. “Just trust me, all right?”
“Why? I saw what you did to K’Kruhk on Coruscant. Are you really going to try and tell me that it’s all just an act?”
Quinlan shakes his head, leaning close with one hand resting on the wall beside her left shoulder. “You know I can’t talk here. Dooku’s –” He goes still, eyes narrowing, then mutters, “Play along,” and kisses her on the mouth.
Obi-Wan goes stiff with indignation, flattening her hands against Quin’s chest in protest. Anakin, she thinks bewilderingly, and makes herself kiss Quin back, moving one hand to the back of his neck to pull him in closer as she spies Tol Skorr approaching from around a corner. She and Quin had made out a few times when they were teenagers, but that’s always a dangerous route to take for Jedi, and they had long since settled into being very good friends.
“So that’s what you wanted from Kenobi,” Skorr observes, and Obi-Wan takes the cue to shove Quin away, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.
“Traitor scum,” she says coldly. “Both of you.”
“Come on, Obi-Wan,” Quin coaxes. “You and I go way back –”
“I don’t care if we were in the cradle together, Vos, I already told you: it’s over between us. I am a Jedi Knight and you’re nothing but a slave of the Sith.”
Skorr is starting to look extremely entertained. “What about that purple-haired bit of yours then, Vos? Get tired of playing in the dirt?”
“Don’t talk about Khaleen –”
Obi-Wan takes the opportunity to slap Quinlan. “Hey!” he protests. “Obi-Wan –”
“Like I told the Count: unless you’re planning to torture me, take me back to my cell. Traitor,” she adds again for good measure.
“Don’t tempt me, Kenobi,” Quinlan snaps, grabbing her arm and propelling her down the corridor while Skorr follows in their wake, guffawing. “Much as I hate to admit it, Skorr’s right. You know more than Shylar did.”
“Another Jedi you murdered,” Obi-Wan spits, her gaze flickering to the control panel as Quin hits the button for the door. Droid parts go everywhere as Anakin leaps up, his face contorted with outrage when he sees the two Dark Jedi.
“Let her go!”
“Or what, Skywalker? You’ll talk me to death?” He shoves Obi-Wan inside; the door sliding shut behind them. Anakin grabs Obi-Wan’s hands, drawing her towards the bed and installing her firmly on it. “Are you all right, Master? Did they hurt you? What did Dooku want? What are the renegades doing here?”
Obi-Wan bats his hands aside. “Ventress wants to kill you and torture me, Skorr just wants to torture me, I think Quin wants to help us, Dooku still wants me to join him, no, and yes, better than I was when I left. Does that about cover everything?”
“Uh – yes,” Anakin says, blinking as he backtracks his own frenzied questions. “Asajj Ventress is here? That hairless harpy –”
“Anakin.”
Anakin stares at her, his jaw set stubbornly. “She tortured you,” he says.
The words fall like stones in the empty silence of the room; his gaze is bleak, distant for a moment, lost in memory. Obi-Wan reaches for his left hand, entwines his fingers with her own, both of them callused and a little scorched from long years of lightsaber use. “I remember,” she says. “But that was in the past. Pay attention to the present, my young apprentice. Trust in –”
“– the living Force, I know,” Anakin says, abruptly present again, his gaze direct and focused. He looks down at their joined hands, then up again at Obi-Wan’s face. “I’m not going to just forgive and forget, you know. She made me think you were dead. For weeks. And she tortured you, and Alpha –”
“We are Jedi, Anakin,” Obi-Wan reminds him. “We never forget, but we always forgive.”
“I don’t think I can do that, Master.”
“Anakin –”
“I can’t. I won’t.” He meets her eyes. “Some things don’t deserve to be forgiven.”
“And we are not the ones to decide what those are!” Obi-Wan says, not liking the turn the conversation has taken. She can tell that he has a rebuttal ready at his lips, but to her relief he doesn’t voice it, just turns his head aside and stares down at their hands. Obi-Wan starts to draw hers back, but he stops her, his grip tightening on hers.
“So Ventress is here,” he says, changing the subject. “And Quinlan Vos and Tol Skorr. Did you see anyone else, Master? Sora Bulq, or –” He racks his brain for the other Dark Jedi Dooku has recruited, but Obi-Wan is already shaking her head.
“Just those three. The good news is that I was able to make a report to Master Yoda and Master Windu with Count Dooku’s offer.”
Anakin’s mouth twists. “What did they say?”
“They’ll present it to the Council.” She smoothes her thumb down the seam of her trousers. “There’s something very odd going on here. I don’t understand why Dooku won’t allow the Jedi to at least tell the Supreme Chancellor, technically we have no authority over Senators unless we actually have confirmation of –” She stops, an unpleasant thought nagging at the forefront of her brain.
“I don’t get it either,” Anakin is saying. “Palpatine could help. He could order all the Senators to have their midichlorian counts tested, or –”
“Unless the Supreme Chancellor is the Sith Lord.”
Anakin stares. “No!” he exclaims. “No, that’s impossible, that’s insane, I know him –”
“It all makes sense now,” Obi-Wan says, staring past him. “This whole war, everything –”
“No, it doesn’t!” Anakin wails. “Palpatine’s my friend, he’s Padmé’s friend, he’s the Supreme Chancellor, Master, don’t you realize how crazy that sounds? He’s the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic! The Order would know if there was a Sith Lord practically next door to the Temple! You’re just jealous because you think he keeps undermining your authority as my master! I mean, for the love of – he saved my life, he –”
That shakes Obi-Wan out of her stupor. “What? When?”
“On Jabiim,” Anakin says blankly. “When we were deciding who would stay and who would go to the mesa, we were all going to stay, but then the Chancellor requested that I leave and lead the evacuation efforts, and everyone else stayed and died, he – everyone else died there. All my friends. All the Jedi. You.”
For a heartbeat his gaze goes distant and distracted, lost down a path which Obi-Wan can’t follow. She’d read the official report on the Republic’s disastrous defeat on Jabiim when she’d returned to Coruscant following her escape from Ventress’s dungeons on Rattatak, but Anakin, the only Jedi to make it off the planet alive after Obi-Wan’s capture and presumed death, hasn’t spoken of it in the weeks since her return. Obi-Wan doesn’t know how to breach the distance that had opened up between them during their absence – everything that happened to Anakin, everything Ventress had done to her. They are Master and Padawan still; both of them have been carrying on as if nothing else has happened.
“Anakin –” Obi-Wan says tentatively.
“He can’t have known about Jabiim,” he says, despairing. “He can’t have. Or about you –” He scrubs his hands through his hair, his eyes wild. “No. It’s insane. It’s a Sith trick –”
Obi-Wan looks at his frenzied expression and makes herself say, “Very likely,” even though some part of her is ticking up all the proofs in the back of her mind. The previous Senator from Naboo had been murdered. Palpatine had been elected Chancellor during the crisis on Naboo, when the first Sith Lord had appeared. He’d authorized the creation of the Grand Army of the Republic. Every Jedi Knight who’s ever been close to him has died in the war, all except for Anakin. He’s steadily been eroding the freedoms of Republic citizens. A thousand other tiny things, things that Obi-Wan had never considered on their own, but when put together form a cascade of evidence. The one who intends to replace me with a new apprentice, Dooku had said. And he’d looked at Anakin.
Obi-Wan’s hand closes on Anakin’s sleeve before she can stop herself.
He looks back at her immediately, panic fading into worry. “Master?”
“It’s nothing,” Obi-Wan makes herself say. I will never permit him to have you. “Whoever the second Sith is, neither you nor I can do anything about it at the moment. We have our own problems to concern ourselves with.”
Anakin runs his hands through his hair – shaggy and starting to grow out since the last time they’d been on Coruscant – again, then settles back down with a visible force of effort, tension evident in the line of his shoulders. “Yes, Master,” he says miserably. “I – you said something. Earlier. About being better than when you left. And I can sense that you’ve been partially healed since, but you’re still Force-blocked –”
“Quinlan,” Obi-Wan supplies, glad for the distraction. “He gave me a boost. I think –” She thinks of the security camera and compromises, “We were Padawans together. He wasn’t happy about seeing me here, but we were very good friends before he…left.”
“Defected,” Anakin scowls.
She inclines her head.
“Can I see?” he asks hesitantly, his fingers hovering over the buttons on her jerkin. “I can sense you’re still hurt, I should –”
Obi-Wan closes her eyes for a moment, then nods. “You might as well change the bandages,” she adds, and starts shrugging out of the jerkin, then the shirt as Anakin leaps up to find the bacta bandages he’d used the night before, nearly tripping over a stray droid part as he does so.
Obi-Wan puts the clothes aside and peels off the bandage on her upper arm, finding the wound there reddish and raw, but within a week it will be nothing but scar tissue and a bad memory. Anakin comes back and perches on the bed beside her, his breath warm against her skin as he unwinds the bandage around her torso.
“I’ve been thinking,” Anakin says tentatively.
“Color me shocked.”
He smiles a little. “I can, you know. Um, I’ve been thinking that we should talk about – about what you said last night. I know you said you wanted to wait until we were back on Coruscant,” he adds quickly when Obi-Wan opens her mouth to remind him of this, “but we’re here now. And we don’t have anything to do except talk. And – I think we should, because if we don’t, then Dooku’s going to use it against us. He’s already trying to use it against us. And you’ve always said that you have to understand a weapon in order to counter it.”
He’s right, damn it. Obi-Wan looks at his earnest gaze and says, “All right. But not right now – let’s finish this first. And I want to meditate.”
“Of course you do,” Anakin says, giving her a small, hopeful smile. He pulls the last of the bandage aside. “That looks much better, Master.”
It does. Quinlan had given her a boost equivalent to another two days or so in a bacta tank, and while it still hurts, not as healed as the wound on her arm or her thigh, it’s significantly better than it had been a few hours ago.
“I guess Master Vos is all right,” Anakin concedes, reaching for the new bandages.
“I guess,” Obi-Wan agrees. She glances at the droid pieces strewn across the other bed and the floor. “What are you doing with the droid?”
Anakin glances up at the camera. “Making it better.”
“It doesn’t usually take you this long to fix a broken droid,” Obi-Wan observes, lifting her arms so that he can get the bandage around.
“It’s not broken,” Anakin says.
Obi-Wan shrugs and lets it go; he’s clearly up to something. “Did Dooku send you the toolkit?”
Anakin nods. “I don’t know why, though. I can hack the door now if I can get through the paneling; there’s no door control on this side.”
“Maybe he just wants to keep you from getting into any trouble,” Obi-Wan suggests.
He snorts. “You do have a plan, don’t you, Master?”
“That depends,” Obi-Wan says as he finishes and sits back, wiping the last of the bacta off on his trousers.
“On what?”
“On what the Council decides.” She pulls her shirt back on. “Is there anything to eat?”
*
tbc
read chapter 5.
Thanks to Dogstar for the beta! Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3
Somewhat to Obi-Wan’s surprise, Dooku takes her to what must be his private holocomm chamber. Obi-Wan programs her ident code and the Jedi Council’s information in, frowning a little when she gets the pingback that means the Council is out of session at the moment, would she like to leave a message? She puts in Yoda’s information instead, waiting until she gets a positive response, and steps up onto the platform next to Count Dooku as Yoda flickers into existence in front of her, pale and blue.
“Good to see you it is, Obi-Wan,” Yoda says. “Say the same for you, Count Dooku, I cannot.”
Dooku inclines his head slightly. “As ever, Master Yoda, it is a pleasure to speak to you again.”
Yoda ignores him. “Well you are, Master Kenobi?”
“I am recovering, Master, thank you for asking,” Obi-Wan replies.
Mace Windu appears beside Yoda, slightly out of breath. “Obi-Wan, it’s good to see you on your feet. Anakin’s report on your condition was somewhat alarming.”
“For me as well. Masters, Count Dooku has asked me to present an offer to the Jedi Council on his behalf, on the condition that neither the Senate or the Supreme Chancellor be informed.”
Windu and Yoda both glance at Dooku, who doesn’t speak. “It’s the middle of the night here,” Windu says finally. “It will take some time to assemble the Council.”
“Record this message and consider it at your leisure,” Dooku orders. “I assure you that Master Kenobi isn’t going anywhere.”
“Very well,” Windu says. “Continue.”
Obi-Wan clasps her hands behind her back, breathing in. “On Geonosis last year the Count informed told me that there was a second Sith Lord in the Galactic Senate. As you know, Masters, the Jedi Council investigated the claims and found no evidence of its veracity. The Count has informed me once more that the Sith is still present in the Senate and has offered to reveal his identity to the Jedi Council with several conditions. First of all, the Senate must agree to treat peacefully with the Confederacy. Secondly, the Sith in the Senate must be removed from power. Third, he wants me.”
Windu, who has been nodding along with this, blinks and stares at her. “Beg pardon?”
Obi-Wan waits a moment for Dooku to chime in, but when he doesn’t, she says, “The Count has made it quite clear that one of the requirements of this bargain is my inclusion as a hostage.”
“Although I hope that Master Kenobi will become more than that in time,” Dooku says, with an amused edge in his voice that makes the hair go up on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck.
“The return of the hostages is non-negotiable, Count,” Windu says. “Both Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker must be returned before any further action is taken once your claims have been investigated.”
“Oh, Skywalker you can have, if he’ll leave his master,” Dooku says. “I have no use for him. But Obi-Wan Kenobi stays with me.”
“To give a Jedi Knight to the Sith an unhappy option is,” Yoda says, his face inscrutable. “Require further discussion, this will.”
“Of course,” Dooku says. “I expect nothing less. Present my offer to the Jedi Council. Meditate on it. Talk amongst yourselves. Remember that if the Supreme Chancellor or the Senate hears of this, Skywalker and Kenobi will die.”
“You have made that quite clear,” says Windu. “Obi-Wan, stay strong and trust in the Force. We will not allow harm to come to you or your Padawan.”
“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan says, bowing. “May the Force be with you, Masters.”
“And with you, Obi-Wan.”
Dooku flicks a hand at the projector to turn it off. “Well done, Master Kenobi,” he says. “I’m sure it won’t take them too long to come to a decision, not with the lives of two Jedi at stake.”
“The Council will not agree to the use of a Jedi Knight as a bargaining chip, Dooku,” Obi-Wan warns him. “You were a Jedi Master once. You would do well to remember that some things are not negotiable.”
“Everything is negotiable, Master Kenobi. Including you. Your…” He lingered over the pause, a small smile playing around his lips. “…honor.”
“Jedi have no honor, Count. You know that.”
“Jedi like to believe that. You ought to know better, Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t shudder this time, though it’s a near thing because it’s not merely her body that he’s threatening. Dooku is a Sith Lord; he wants her soul.
“I am a Jedi Knight. Your Sith tricks will not work on me,” she says instead.
“I can wait,” Dooku smiles. He doesn’t touch her. He doesn’t have to. Instead he beckons at her the way he might a pet. “Come with me.”
Obi-Wan follows him; she doesn’t have a choice. Her booted steps are near silent on the floor as they leave the holocomm chamber, proceeding down a hallway that looks more or less the same as all the others. With the Force, she could probably pinpoint exactly where she was in the ship, following the glowing tracks of her presence back to the med room and maybe even to the hangar where she and Anakin must have been brought onboard. Without it she’s as lost as any Force-null being – well, perhaps not quite; even without the Force behind her gaze her eyes pick out tiny imperfections in the walls and floor, differentiating one corridor from the other, marking out weak spots and differences and storing them mentally away in the archives of her memory against some future necessity of knowledge.
Somewhat to her surprise, Count Dooku leads her into one of the ship’s hangar bays. Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why until she sees who’s waiting there and barely conceals her automatic grasp for a lightsaber that isn’t there.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Asajj Ventress scowls, her hand going to one of her own lightsabers. The Darksider is flanked by two of Dooku’s Dark Jedi, Tol Skorr, whom Obi-Wan has read about in Master Tholme’s intelligence reports but never met personally, and Obi-Wan’s old friend Quinlan Vos, who’d defected from the Order just over a year ago. They’ve known each other since they were both Padawans; anyone who didn’t know Vos as well as she does would have missed the flash of panic in his eyes when he saw her.
“Ventress,” Obi-Wan says coldly. “Skorr. Vos.”
“Hello, Obi-Wan,” Ventress says after a moment’s consideration and a glance for confirmation at her master. She prowls around Obi-Wan, trailing her fingers across Obi-Wan’s chest, and smiles – predatory, dangerous. “What brings a Jedi like you to a place like this?”
“Not my own intentions, I assure you, Asajj,” Obi-Wan says.
The other woman hooks her fingers into Obi-Wan’s belt, smiling. “Not so brave without your lightsaber, are you, Obi-Wan?”
“I didn’t need a lightsaber to escape your prison on Rattatak, Asajj,” Obi-Wan reminds her, smiling back and letting an edge of her bad mood finally shine through. “Or don’t you remember?”
Ventress’s smile vanishes abruptly and she closes her fist on Obi-Wan’s belt, pulling her close enough to kiss. “I remember you stole my master’s lightsaber. And my ship!” She grabs Obi-Wan’s chin, her fingers tight enough to bruise. “If your Jedi tricks are so powerful, Obi-Wan, then why are you still here?”
“I have her Padawan,” Dooku intervenes.
“Skywalker?” Ventress says, momentarily distracted. “Let me kill him for you, Master.”
“As tempting as the offer is, I require him to keep Master Kenobi here from doing anything rash. For the time being, at least. Unless, of course, she decides to take me up on my offer.”
“No,” Obi-Wan says, flat.
“What do you want with this Jedi, Master?” Skorr demands. “Kenobi’s high up in Republic command. She’ll know more than that Jedi spy Shylar –”
“There are other things that I want from Master Kenobi besides information,” Dooku says. “For example, that she take your place, as she is at least twice as intelligent as you.”
Skorr scowls. “I’ve heard all about Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he says. “You’re shorter than I expected, Jedi.”
“And you could do with washing your hair more than twice a year, Darksider,” Obi-Wan returns coldly. She raises her hands and shoves Asajj Ventress away, knocking aside the other woman’s arm as Ventress moves to strike her. A shake from Dooku’s head stops his protégé and Ventress steps back, scowling.
“If this is yet another pathetic display of everything I could gain from joining you, Dooku, then it’s a very poor show,” Obi-Wan goes on, drawing herself up straight. “Unless you actually do plan on torturing me, in which case I advise you to get on with it, I’d like to be escorted back to my cell. The company here has just become…insufferable.”
To her distaste, Dooku looks more amused than anything else. “If you insist, Master Kenobi. Commander Ventress and I have something to discuss, anyway.”
He raises a hand to get the attention of two of his magnaguards, who fall into position on either side of Obi-Wan. She leaves the hangar with her back straight, aware of Asajj Ventress’s gaze hungry on the back of her neck, like she’s thinking about getting it between her hands and squeezing. Well, she’s never liked Obi-Wan; she probably is.
They’re most of the way back to the med room when she hears footsteps behind her. “I’ll take General Kenobi the rest of the way,” Quinlan Vos says, catching up to the magnaguards. “The Count’s orders.”
It must be, because the magnaguards leave Obi-Wan with her old friend without a moment’s hesitation, proceeding down the hallway with heavy clicks of their metal feet on the duranium floor. Obi-Wan crosses her arms over her chest, wincing at the way it pulls at the healing wound on her left arm, and turns to face Vos.
“Come to plead for your new master, Quin?” she demands.
The year or so since Obi-Wan had seen him last hasn’t really changed him. He’s the same old Quin, minus the Jedi robes, now exchanged for black leather that leaves his arms bare, showing off the yellow Kiffar markings across his left forearm. Obi-Wan glances at the lightsaber on his hip, wondering her chances of getting to it before Quin can stop her, but they aren’t good; Quin’s just as fast as she is, without the wounds and with the Force to help him.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Obi-Wan,” he says.
“I didn’t expect to be here. I’m sure you can ask your new master for the details, as I’ve been in a bacta tank for the past two days.”
“I can sense your injuries,” Quinlan says. “Why aren’t you using the Force to heal yourself more quickly?”
“I can’t. Count Dooku has some kind of drug that blocks the neural connection to the midichlorians that allow us to manipulate the Force.” Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you don’t know about that.”
“Count doesn’t tell us everything,” he shrugs. “Or all that much, come to think of it.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised,” Obi-Wan says bitterly. “What do you want, Quinlan? You want to torture me too? Threaten to kill my Padawan? Maybe make an example of me for Tholme and Yoda, like you did with Master K’Kruhk? Oh, yes, Quin, I heard about that. What started out as simple spying has turned into something more; you have gone over to the Dark Side.” She turns away from him, deliberately cruel. “Take me back to my cell. I have nothing to say to a traitor.”
Quinlan grabs her arm to stop her, his fingers digging into the wound there. Obi-Wan bites back a cry of pain and he lets go immediately, apologizing and holds out his hand with the Force gathered around it – silent peace-offering.
“Fine,” Obi-Wan says shortly, clutching at her arm. She hisses out through her teeth as coolness descends, the muscle mending itself, the flesh knitting back together over it, leaving behind a lingering soreness and what Obi-Wan knows will be an ugly scar; Quin’s never been a particularly delicate healer. “Thanks,” she adds, grudging.
“You want me to do the rest?” Quin offers, though he looks rather dubious about his own abilities in that arena.
“Just give me a boost,” Obi-Wan says. Dark Jedi or not, it would be foolish to refuse his help. “Bacta will do the rest.”
She sighs in relief as the pain recedes, Quinlan frowning in concentration as he passes his hands over her wounds, patching up the ones on her torso and healing the graze on her leg completely. “You’re pretty beat up, Obi-Wan,” he says. “What happened? You’re not usually this clumsy.”
“What do you think?” Obi-Wan says, taking the opportunity to lean against the wall. “I got tired, I got careless, I got shot – and I got myself and my Padawan captured for it, so that now Dooku has leverage when he plays his tricks with the Council. What do you care anyway, Quin? Not like we’re playing for the same team anymore.”
“There’s more going on here than you know, Obi-Wan,” Quin insists. “Just trust me, all right?”
“Why? I saw what you did to K’Kruhk on Coruscant. Are you really going to try and tell me that it’s all just an act?”
Quinlan shakes his head, leaning close with one hand resting on the wall beside her left shoulder. “You know I can’t talk here. Dooku’s –” He goes still, eyes narrowing, then mutters, “Play along,” and kisses her on the mouth.
Obi-Wan goes stiff with indignation, flattening her hands against Quin’s chest in protest. Anakin, she thinks bewilderingly, and makes herself kiss Quin back, moving one hand to the back of his neck to pull him in closer as she spies Tol Skorr approaching from around a corner. She and Quin had made out a few times when they were teenagers, but that’s always a dangerous route to take for Jedi, and they had long since settled into being very good friends.
“So that’s what you wanted from Kenobi,” Skorr observes, and Obi-Wan takes the cue to shove Quin away, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.
“Traitor scum,” she says coldly. “Both of you.”
“Come on, Obi-Wan,” Quin coaxes. “You and I go way back –”
“I don’t care if we were in the cradle together, Vos, I already told you: it’s over between us. I am a Jedi Knight and you’re nothing but a slave of the Sith.”
Skorr is starting to look extremely entertained. “What about that purple-haired bit of yours then, Vos? Get tired of playing in the dirt?”
“Don’t talk about Khaleen –”
Obi-Wan takes the opportunity to slap Quinlan. “Hey!” he protests. “Obi-Wan –”
“Like I told the Count: unless you’re planning to torture me, take me back to my cell. Traitor,” she adds again for good measure.
“Don’t tempt me, Kenobi,” Quinlan snaps, grabbing her arm and propelling her down the corridor while Skorr follows in their wake, guffawing. “Much as I hate to admit it, Skorr’s right. You know more than Shylar did.”
“Another Jedi you murdered,” Obi-Wan spits, her gaze flickering to the control panel as Quin hits the button for the door. Droid parts go everywhere as Anakin leaps up, his face contorted with outrage when he sees the two Dark Jedi.
“Let her go!”
“Or what, Skywalker? You’ll talk me to death?” He shoves Obi-Wan inside; the door sliding shut behind them. Anakin grabs Obi-Wan’s hands, drawing her towards the bed and installing her firmly on it. “Are you all right, Master? Did they hurt you? What did Dooku want? What are the renegades doing here?”
Obi-Wan bats his hands aside. “Ventress wants to kill you and torture me, Skorr just wants to torture me, I think Quin wants to help us, Dooku still wants me to join him, no, and yes, better than I was when I left. Does that about cover everything?”
“Uh – yes,” Anakin says, blinking as he backtracks his own frenzied questions. “Asajj Ventress is here? That hairless harpy –”
“Anakin.”
Anakin stares at her, his jaw set stubbornly. “She tortured you,” he says.
The words fall like stones in the empty silence of the room; his gaze is bleak, distant for a moment, lost in memory. Obi-Wan reaches for his left hand, entwines his fingers with her own, both of them callused and a little scorched from long years of lightsaber use. “I remember,” she says. “But that was in the past. Pay attention to the present, my young apprentice. Trust in –”
“– the living Force, I know,” Anakin says, abruptly present again, his gaze direct and focused. He looks down at their joined hands, then up again at Obi-Wan’s face. “I’m not going to just forgive and forget, you know. She made me think you were dead. For weeks. And she tortured you, and Alpha –”
“We are Jedi, Anakin,” Obi-Wan reminds him. “We never forget, but we always forgive.”
“I don’t think I can do that, Master.”
“Anakin –”
“I can’t. I won’t.” He meets her eyes. “Some things don’t deserve to be forgiven.”
“And we are not the ones to decide what those are!” Obi-Wan says, not liking the turn the conversation has taken. She can tell that he has a rebuttal ready at his lips, but to her relief he doesn’t voice it, just turns his head aside and stares down at their hands. Obi-Wan starts to draw hers back, but he stops her, his grip tightening on hers.
“So Ventress is here,” he says, changing the subject. “And Quinlan Vos and Tol Skorr. Did you see anyone else, Master? Sora Bulq, or –” He racks his brain for the other Dark Jedi Dooku has recruited, but Obi-Wan is already shaking her head.
“Just those three. The good news is that I was able to make a report to Master Yoda and Master Windu with Count Dooku’s offer.”
Anakin’s mouth twists. “What did they say?”
“They’ll present it to the Council.” She smoothes her thumb down the seam of her trousers. “There’s something very odd going on here. I don’t understand why Dooku won’t allow the Jedi to at least tell the Supreme Chancellor, technically we have no authority over Senators unless we actually have confirmation of –” She stops, an unpleasant thought nagging at the forefront of her brain.
“I don’t get it either,” Anakin is saying. “Palpatine could help. He could order all the Senators to have their midichlorian counts tested, or –”
“Unless the Supreme Chancellor is the Sith Lord.”
Anakin stares. “No!” he exclaims. “No, that’s impossible, that’s insane, I know him –”
“It all makes sense now,” Obi-Wan says, staring past him. “This whole war, everything –”
“No, it doesn’t!” Anakin wails. “Palpatine’s my friend, he’s Padmé’s friend, he’s the Supreme Chancellor, Master, don’t you realize how crazy that sounds? He’s the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic! The Order would know if there was a Sith Lord practically next door to the Temple! You’re just jealous because you think he keeps undermining your authority as my master! I mean, for the love of – he saved my life, he –”
That shakes Obi-Wan out of her stupor. “What? When?”
“On Jabiim,” Anakin says blankly. “When we were deciding who would stay and who would go to the mesa, we were all going to stay, but then the Chancellor requested that I leave and lead the evacuation efforts, and everyone else stayed and died, he – everyone else died there. All my friends. All the Jedi. You.”
For a heartbeat his gaze goes distant and distracted, lost down a path which Obi-Wan can’t follow. She’d read the official report on the Republic’s disastrous defeat on Jabiim when she’d returned to Coruscant following her escape from Ventress’s dungeons on Rattatak, but Anakin, the only Jedi to make it off the planet alive after Obi-Wan’s capture and presumed death, hasn’t spoken of it in the weeks since her return. Obi-Wan doesn’t know how to breach the distance that had opened up between them during their absence – everything that happened to Anakin, everything Ventress had done to her. They are Master and Padawan still; both of them have been carrying on as if nothing else has happened.
“Anakin –” Obi-Wan says tentatively.
“He can’t have known about Jabiim,” he says, despairing. “He can’t have. Or about you –” He scrubs his hands through his hair, his eyes wild. “No. It’s insane. It’s a Sith trick –”
Obi-Wan looks at his frenzied expression and makes herself say, “Very likely,” even though some part of her is ticking up all the proofs in the back of her mind. The previous Senator from Naboo had been murdered. Palpatine had been elected Chancellor during the crisis on Naboo, when the first Sith Lord had appeared. He’d authorized the creation of the Grand Army of the Republic. Every Jedi Knight who’s ever been close to him has died in the war, all except for Anakin. He’s steadily been eroding the freedoms of Republic citizens. A thousand other tiny things, things that Obi-Wan had never considered on their own, but when put together form a cascade of evidence. The one who intends to replace me with a new apprentice, Dooku had said. And he’d looked at Anakin.
Obi-Wan’s hand closes on Anakin’s sleeve before she can stop herself.
He looks back at her immediately, panic fading into worry. “Master?”
“It’s nothing,” Obi-Wan makes herself say. I will never permit him to have you. “Whoever the second Sith is, neither you nor I can do anything about it at the moment. We have our own problems to concern ourselves with.”
Anakin runs his hands through his hair – shaggy and starting to grow out since the last time they’d been on Coruscant – again, then settles back down with a visible force of effort, tension evident in the line of his shoulders. “Yes, Master,” he says miserably. “I – you said something. Earlier. About being better than when you left. And I can sense that you’ve been partially healed since, but you’re still Force-blocked –”
“Quinlan,” Obi-Wan supplies, glad for the distraction. “He gave me a boost. I think –” She thinks of the security camera and compromises, “We were Padawans together. He wasn’t happy about seeing me here, but we were very good friends before he…left.”
“Defected,” Anakin scowls.
She inclines her head.
“Can I see?” he asks hesitantly, his fingers hovering over the buttons on her jerkin. “I can sense you’re still hurt, I should –”
Obi-Wan closes her eyes for a moment, then nods. “You might as well change the bandages,” she adds, and starts shrugging out of the jerkin, then the shirt as Anakin leaps up to find the bacta bandages he’d used the night before, nearly tripping over a stray droid part as he does so.
Obi-Wan puts the clothes aside and peels off the bandage on her upper arm, finding the wound there reddish and raw, but within a week it will be nothing but scar tissue and a bad memory. Anakin comes back and perches on the bed beside her, his breath warm against her skin as he unwinds the bandage around her torso.
“I’ve been thinking,” Anakin says tentatively.
“Color me shocked.”
He smiles a little. “I can, you know. Um, I’ve been thinking that we should talk about – about what you said last night. I know you said you wanted to wait until we were back on Coruscant,” he adds quickly when Obi-Wan opens her mouth to remind him of this, “but we’re here now. And we don’t have anything to do except talk. And – I think we should, because if we don’t, then Dooku’s going to use it against us. He’s already trying to use it against us. And you’ve always said that you have to understand a weapon in order to counter it.”
He’s right, damn it. Obi-Wan looks at his earnest gaze and says, “All right. But not right now – let’s finish this first. And I want to meditate.”
“Of course you do,” Anakin says, giving her a small, hopeful smile. He pulls the last of the bandage aside. “That looks much better, Master.”
It does. Quinlan had given her a boost equivalent to another two days or so in a bacta tank, and while it still hurts, not as healed as the wound on her arm or her thigh, it’s significantly better than it had been a few hours ago.
“I guess Master Vos is all right,” Anakin concedes, reaching for the new bandages.
“I guess,” Obi-Wan agrees. She glances at the droid pieces strewn across the other bed and the floor. “What are you doing with the droid?”
Anakin glances up at the camera. “Making it better.”
“It doesn’t usually take you this long to fix a broken droid,” Obi-Wan observes, lifting her arms so that he can get the bandage around.
“It’s not broken,” Anakin says.
Obi-Wan shrugs and lets it go; he’s clearly up to something. “Did Dooku send you the toolkit?”
Anakin nods. “I don’t know why, though. I can hack the door now if I can get through the paneling; there’s no door control on this side.”
“Maybe he just wants to keep you from getting into any trouble,” Obi-Wan suggests.
He snorts. “You do have a plan, don’t you, Master?”
“That depends,” Obi-Wan says as he finishes and sits back, wiping the last of the bacta off on his trousers.
“On what?”
“On what the Council decides.” She pulls her shirt back on. “Is there anything to eat?”
*
tbc
read chapter 5.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-09 05:28 pm (UTC)and I keep expecting Dooku to make a BIGGER move on Obi-Wan and.
Why is it you're making me read StarWars? HOW is it that you manage to make me read it?
I like Lady!Obi-wan far more than male!Obi-Wan. And Teenage boy Anakin still needs a smack on the head.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-12 10:21 pm (UTC)Dooku likes Obi-Wan. He likes the idea of tricking her into doing what he wants. And because it's a bigger challenge to convince a very proper Jedi to join the Dark Side than one on the fringes, like the ones he's already recruited.
Well, Anakin's twenty. And he's in love. And, terrifyingly, he's behaving with more sense than he does in canon.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 02:46 am (UTC).... and I am vaguely interested in a Dooku/Obi-Wan except I think she'd probably throw up.
Twenty is ONLY a year away from being a teenager! When I was 20, I felt like I was still 16 a lot.
....
I am not sure I want to read/watch canon if this is behaving with MORE SENSE.
>.<
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 04:28 am (UTC)While I'm reasonably certain that Dooku is attracted to Obi-Wan, I suspect he's more interested in watching her and Anakin rip themselves up over their attraction to each other. So much more fun to make Jedi corrupt themselves than to do it yourself.
That's more or less what I was saying -- Anakin is very young, and in love, and in a pretty bad situation. Sense! He does not have it.
Let's see if I can dig up some of the romantic scenes from AotC... Okay, here: the kiss, the aftermath (yes. Yes, the dialogue is that bad), and the declaration.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 04:36 am (UTC)But yeah it is VERY sketchy when it is lady Obi-Wan, and boyAnakin.
if it was girlAnakin tryign to corner lady Obi-Wan... htat would be a different story.
Anakin! Have some sense!
NOW.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 05:00 am (UTC)Dooku! Also a sketch bastard, and running several games at once. And obsessed with Obi-Wan.
Lady!Anakin cornering lady!Obi-Wan is...well, less sketch, but to be fair, Anakin's not doing his/her trembling with need shtick and Obi-Wan's not in a lot of pain. (I wrote it, it just hasn't been posted because I didn't finish the next scene, but it goes like this (with some lead-up):
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 05:07 am (UTC)And then some.
Attention grabbing bastard. :D
Dooku is SKETCHY like SKETCHY and I have a THING for sketchy evil bastards in fiction because yay fiction not real life. Especially when he's pointedly evil and wants Obi-Wan like a supernova wants gravity. And a bunch of planets and a solar system or two.
everything is less sketchy when it's lady!knights, because trembling with need is not tempered with MANPAIN and schtick.
Also, ladyObi-Wan is in CONTROL. Of herself if nothing else, and babyladyAnakin is in DIRE NEED of Obi-wan's approval.
CONSTANTLY. And not in deep, deep need to revolt and Show you you're wrong and. Well. stuff.
Also, poor BbAni. *hugs her*
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 05:25 am (UTC)I guess at this point we're lucky that Dooku hasn't tortured Anakin in front of Obi-Wan again. As tempting as I'm sure the idea is, since sometimes Anakin just begs to be tortured and Dooku's just keeping him around because he knows he can manipulate Obi-Wan through him.
I suspect that the less testosterone there is the room, the more functional Anakin and Obi-Wan are. Must get back to the lady!Anakin and dude!Obi-Wan fic in hopes that maybe we'll get to the makeouts to see how that goes and where it falls on the scale of sketch. (lady!Anakin: also the aggressive one. Anakin is always the aggressive one. Obi-Wan is the one who has to be constantly in control of the situation.)
To be fair to lady!Anakin, she and lady!Obi-Wan are on a bit more of an even playing field, since they're both knights and are no longer master and apprentice. I suspect that helps.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 05:35 am (UTC)Sometimes I think the series could have been so much more... solid if they'd just not made the prologues.
Precocious blond little brat makes me still want to toss him out of a x-wing fighter.
Everyone needs to tortue the boy. Except it's like giving into his intense need to be the centre of the universe.
Again.
The less testosterone there is in anakin the more functional they are.
LadyAnakin and MaleObi-Wan might actually get to the make-outs stage, htough they might not get much further, alas.
I still vastly prefer lady knights because... well. BECAUSE.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 05:53 am (UTC)Uh, for the record, in case it wasn't obvious, I vastly prefer the PT to the OT, not because I'm going to argue that they're better movies (although I don't really think they're worse), but because it's a story and characters I enjoy more than the OT. Plus they hit nearly all of my story-telling kinks.
Lady!Anakin is just as stalkery as male!Anakin. And just about as subtle.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 05:59 am (UTC)When he gets all teenagery it's easier.
(And when Obi-Wan was walking around like a little PUNK that was both LOLZ and rather slashy when I think about it)
(PT? Phantom... thingy? OT? OH. Prologue triology and Original Triology?)
Well apparently stalkery is part of the Anakin make up. Lady Obi-Wan would be STERN about it.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 06:11 am (UTC)PT: Prequel Trilogy and OT: Original Trilogy.
Male!Anakin was a little more subtle about the stalking. Lady!Anakin was pretty straightforward.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 06:16 am (UTC)Like he knwos that the man hung the moon or something.
And then he's saddled with a child who is a) precocious b) a crazy kid and c) going to DESTROY EVERYTHING. Or maybe not.
HE DOESN'T KNOW.
LadyAnakin has no subtlety. She NEEDS no subtlety.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 06:32 am (UTC)Baby padawan Obi-Wan is always the thing that really makes the movie for me. He's so young! And so doomed! And so fucked up, because his master dies in his arms and his dying wish is that Obi-Wan train that weird slave boy he picked up and that the Council refused to accept and who Obi-Wan has categorically stated is dangerous. *sighs* I really wish we had more Obi-Wan and Anakin interaction in that movie, because I'm thinking back on it, and I can only remember one time that they actually speak to each other.
Lady!Anakin has spent half of her apprenticeship coming up with increasingly crazy plans to seduce her master. Obi-Wan sometimes feels very hunted.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 06:41 am (UTC)He probably wishes he'd taken up farming.
Lady!anakin has no need for subtlety at ANY POINT.
She just wants her master.
AND WILL GET HIM/HER.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 06:49 am (UTC)Obi-Wan just finds this behavior very unreasonable, why can't Anakin control herself, and no, s/he's not attracted to her at all, not even the tiniest bit...
(no subject)
Date: 2012-03-13 06:53 am (UTC):D
Anakin sees no reason to control him/herself, not when she/he wants Obi-wan RiGHT NOW.
... plus, there is the ATTRACTION.