Chapter Text
Obi-Wan sits in the kitchen of Anakin's quarters, drinking Anakin's tea out of one of Anakin's mugs, sitting across from Anakin's padawan. And even though he knows better, he still half expects Anakin to come barging in like the whirlwind he was. Obi-Wan had lived in these rooms half his life; from the day he became Qui-Gon's padawan to the day Anakin brought Ahsoka back to the temple as his. It had seemed right, to keep the rooms in the lineage. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to move out after Qui-Gon was killed, even if sleeping in his bed felt like a knife to the heart for years after the Naboo crisis. But he endured it, because Qui-Gon's presence was baked into the stones of those rooms, and he was the first bit of safety Anakin had ever experienced apart from his mother. And Anakin needed to feel safe more than Obi-Wan needed to move on.
When Anakin accepted Ahsoka after Yoda's machinations, it was the least he could do to move out and leave the rooms to him. It felt right, as it hadn't years ago. He had precious little to pass on to Anakin and Ahsoka, between the war and his duties with the High Council, but he could give them that.
But now Ahsoka looks just as uncomfortable here as he feels. The hands gripping her own mug are a pale orange, quivering slightly as the tea cools. When she called him here to speak, he knew there were only two options; she was either staying or going. And now, looking around the room and reading it in the force, he has his answer before she says a word. Her presence has seeped out of these rooms just as surely as his has, and only Anakin remains. Here at least. Outside these rooms, Anakin is dead and gone.
Maybe if he repeats it often enough he’ll be able to believe it.
Ahsoka inhales suddenly and breaks the brittle silence. "I'm leaving."
Obi-Wan sighs. He is growing tired of being right. "I understand, dear one," he says, and it's even the truth. That makes it harder, he thinks.
"I'll be back one day," she says, hands wringing the mug in front of her in agitation. "But I can't be here right now. Not with everyone just looking at me all the time."
He knows the feeling. The attention of a temple full of empaths is a difficult thing to miss. They mean well, he knows, but their pity is cloying at best. Anakin had few friends in the temple, and most of those now burdening them with their regard wouldn’t have given him anything more than casual courtesy a month ago.
"And even when they whisper, they're just so loud," she continues, practically hissing at this point. He's been spared the whispers at least. People tend to hold their tongues around High Councilors, and he has forgotten about her absurd range of hearing too often over the years to hope for any sort of discretion from those unfamiliar with Togruta. Belatedly, he wonders what sorts of things she heard from her fellow jedi during the fiasco that resulted in her walking away from the order, and how it influenced her decision.
But it’s far too late to worry about that, so he just gives her a sad smile. "I'm sorry I can't go with you."
"I won't be alone," she says quickly, then hesitates, biting her lip. He hasn't seen her this indecisive in years, but she makes her decision before he can comment on it. "The 501st is coming with me. All of them."
He doesn't know what to say to that. There aren't many safe things she could be getting up to with thousands of highly trained soldiers. "They've always been loyal," he says, mostly because he needs to fill the silence.
She narrows her eyes at him over her tea. "I didn't ask them to come. I tried to talk them out of it, but after I said where I was going and why… Well, Rex said I could either take them with me or he'd tie me up until I 'saw sense.'" She puts a wry twist on the last words, cracking a smile. It's a brittle thing, like everything else in this room, but it takes the edge off of the rising dread he feels at whatever she plans that will put her in such danger Rex thinks she needs a legion at her back.
"I thought of sneaking off anyway, but I think Rex put a tracker on me."
He probably did. Rex is nothing if not thorough, and if he thought for a second there was a chance Ahsoka would try to disappear on them again he'd take steps to prevent it. If anyone had thought to put one in Ahsoka's boots before this, they could have mitigated the Wasskah debacle.
But he has more pressing concerns than the good captain's wrangling of his wild grandpadawan. "Where are you going, Ahsoka?" he asks softly. She’s been cagey their whole conversation, but he cannot help but hope for her trust, even after breaking it so thoroughly.
She just looks at him for long enough that he begins to think he’s hoped in vain before she answers with a simple "Tatooine," as if it wouldn't shake him to his core. He's already tense, but he stiffens further when she continues.
"After Zygerria, we talked a little. When I couldn't bear to be alone, or confined, or outside without thinking of a fucking cage hanging off a castle."
The remaining dishware in the cabinets is rattling fiercely, and for the life of him Obi-Wan can't tell whose fault it is. They both take a breath in sync, and the disturbance ceases.
"Yeah,” she says in acknowledgement. “Well, he told me about his dreams. And I told him when the war was over, I'd be right with him to free his people, like he'd been there to free mine."
She drops her head between her hands, breaking off for a moment. When she speaks again, it's in a hoarse whisper.
"And now he's gone."
Their breathing stutters in unison, matching like the identical broken bonds lingering in their minds. Suddenly Ahsoka looks up at him, shoulders set and fire in her eyes. "And if he can't help them, I'll do it myself, or die trying."
Her resolve echoes in the force, and Obi-Wan thinks that if he had the talent for shatterpoints he'd be seeing one now. Master Windu’s demeanor makes a lot more sense to him now, if this is how he has to live every day.
"Ahsoka, please, think about this," he begs, desperation leaking into the force. "Anakin would not want you to throw your life away, not even for this. The war is ending. Once all the jedi are recalled I'm sure I can convince the council to -"
"The council," she snarls, interrupting, "has had centuries to move against the Hutts, but their influence has only grown. And you'll excuse me if I don't have faith in the council's collective wisdom."
He flinches slightly at that, as Ahsoka's memories of standing alone in a dark room while 12 aloof masters pass down their judgement on her leak through her shields. In normal circumstances this level of sharing would be cause for chastisement. Shielding is vitally important in the temple, with so many vulnerable young minds around. But his own shields are weak enough to receive the impressions she's sending, and this is hardly the time for criticism.
Obi-Wan is pulled from his musings by the light touch of a hand on his, as Ahsoka reaches across the table to him. "I'm doing this, Obi-Wan."
He gives her an acquiescing smile. He's never been able to stop either of his padawans from doing whatever they set their minds to, and there's no reason for that to have changed.
"And how are you planning on getting a legion to Tatooine?" he asks, because it's a nontrivial matter, and she's rarely subtle. But where he expects a sheepish explanation, instead she retreats again, leveling a calculating gaze his way.
"I think it's better for you if you don't know, at least until after we're gone. There are enough treason accusations flying around. No need to pull you into it." Ahsoka smiles and does a credible job of hiding the undercurrent of bitterness she feels at the mention of treason.
The thought that she's still trying to protect him, even after everything, shouldn't surprise him. She developed quite a protective streak over the course of the war, a natural reaction to seeing friends and family cut down around her for years. But he'd rather thought she didn't count him as quite that close anymore.
"You don't need to worry about protecting me, little one," he says gently.
"Yes I do," she snarls fiercely. But the fight drains out of her immediately, leaving a broken whisper behind. "You're all I have left."
This time it is Obi-Wan lurching across the table to grasp her hands. "That isn't true Ahsoka," he denies vehemently. "This is still your home. The jedi are still your family."
"Is it? Are they?"
He manages to suppress his instinctual reaction that yes, of course it is and of course they are. He remembers well the whispers that had dogged his steps for months after his return from Melida/Daan, and he hadn't even been tossed out of the order and branded a traitor. It had taken him months to believe that he still belonged in the temple. By his count Ahsoka is going on a week.
"The council is not as representative of the opinions of the jedi order as we might like," he begins diplomatically. "The order at large was not involved in your expulsion. And once word had gotten out about that… well, suffice to say that a lot of jedi were less than pleased with the precedent the council set." Less than pleased was a bit of an understatement in this case. At least a thousand formal complaints on the subject would have been unprecedented itself if not for the comparable outpouring after the decision to lead armies for the first time in a thousand years.
He sees her about to protest but cuts her off before she can begin. "Yes, most of them were not about you specifically. But many were. A set of younglings were particularly upset with us for, and I quote, 'Treating you worse than that dirtbag Hondo'. Among other complaints less suited for pleasant company. It seems they picked up some new vocabulary on their trip with you." That prompts a smile at least.
"All this to say, you are not alone. And when you've done what you set out to do, this will still be your home. Do you understand?"
She looks a little shaken by this declaration, but nods.
He smiles at her. "Good. Now then, on to more pressing business. You'll need to resupply, of course, and we'll have work out some sort of code system so you can keep in touch, and -"
Her sudden laughter cuts him off, and he looks at her disapproval. "I hope you don't think I'm letting you run off to Hutt space without a way for me to keep tabs on you, do you?" He probably doesn't have enough time to requisition a tracker of his own, but maybe he can get looped in on whatever method Rex has selected.
Ahsoka contains herself after a moment, shaking her head. "Rex has everything under control, Master Kenobi. He called in a favor to get our stores filled and then some. As for keeping in touch, a certain senator will be able to track us down. We’ll be ok. Promise."
Ah. Well, maybe she’s grown in her time away. This operation of hers is already better thought out than many of their ventures during the war, low bar though that is. But then again, that might be Rex’s influence. They're ostensibly equal in rank, though the helmets painted in a facsimile of her own face give up that game. It had taken her approximately 24 hours to worm her way into Anakin's heart, after all. The clones might have taken a little longer, but no other jedi had been honored on their armor as she had.
"Yes, I suppose you will." It hurts a little to admit that. There's pride too, of course. We are what they grow beyond, as Yoda says. For all that Anakin is – was - a knight, he had never quite moved on because of the war. But here Ahsoka was, knocking on the door already.
And thinking of Anakin, and all he left behind, a thought occurs to him, jolting him right out of his proud reflections.
"You'll miss the birth,” he says gently.
Her good mood fades away at that. "I know. And I wish I could wait. But there are thousands of people waiting on our help. The republic hasn't put them first for a thousand years and more. Someone has to. The biters will wait."
Obi-Wan snorts. "You've spent too much time with the clones, my dear."
Her eyes twinkle as she rises, smirking at him. "Don't let Cody hear you say that, Master. He'll get the wrong idea."
Obi-Wan doesn't blush. He's a grown man, and immune to any insinuations from irreverent teenagers. Once he's done not blushing, he stands to meet her. "I have no idea what you mean."
"Sure you don't," comes the expected reply. Force save him from self-satisfied padawans. Best to take back control of this conversation.
"Come back to us, Ahsoka."
Almost before he finishes speaking, she's wrapped her arms around him, head pressed into his shoulder. When had she gotten so tall? She'd always said she would be taller than him and Anakin both. Just like a padawan to get ahead of themselves.
"I will."
Her self-possession fades for a moment, and she looks slightly abashed for the first time tonight. "I don't mean to put you in a difficult position, but there miiiiight be some questions from the council about our disappearance…."
He snorts. "Say no more, dear one. I've spent years covering for Anakin." No more though. Maybe Anakin had grown beyond him after all. "I always expected I'd have to do the same for you, one day, even if you aren't half as bad as him."
Ahsoka flashes her teeth at him, but she's holding back tears. "Like you'd have it any other way, old man," she snarks.
And then she's pulling away from him, drawing herself up with every ounce of jedi serenity she's scraped together through her tumultuous years as a padawan on the battlefield.
"May the force be with you, Master Kenobi."
He feels his eyes watering in response but ignores them. "And with you, Ahsoka."
She dips into a low bow and is out the door before he knows it. He's left in Anakin's room alone, but for Anakin's presence suffusing the stones.