Work Header


Work Text:



Before parting ways with Anakin and Ahsoka following the rescue of Hallena Davis from the war-torn planet of JanFathal, you had extended an open offer to assist the Order again in the future should they ever have need of you. It had been a sincere offer, but one you felt rather secure in making; you hadn’t even expected that they would pass it along to the High Council. Especially not after seeing how disconcerted Ahsoka was by the Altisian’s unorthodox practices, and how hard Anakin had tried to seem unaffected by them for her benefit. But evidently your words had traveled from the Outer Rim all the way to the summit of the Council Spire in Coruscant, because just one standard month later, you received a coded holo transmission from one of their most prominent members requesting your assistance on a mission of the utmost secrecy. 


A majority of your work with the Altisians brought you to planets that seemed lost to time, places where groundcars were more common than vehicles outfitted with repulsorlifts, and holocasters were a rarity, and yet you had heard his name spoken even in the far reaches of the Outer Rim. He certainly hadn’t seemed like the wisest choice for a covert operation given the level of celebrity bestowed upon him by his frequent appearances on the HoloNet, but he had assured you that he was more than up to the task. An assurance that had been echoed by Anakin as he stood beside him, his holo patterned with scanlines. 


“Trust me, the only thing you have to worry about is Obi-Wan treating this mission like it’s a production at the Grand Coruscant Theatre,” Anakin told you, laughing as Obi-Wan Kenobi’s lips pursed ever so slightly in annoyance. 


“I suppose by treating it like a production you mean adequately preparing for the role so that I may lend some level of authenticity to it,” Obi-Wan sniffed in response, folding his arms over his chest.


“He’s even researched the various types of soil that can be found on Tieos,” Anakin said drily, “you know, just in case that ends up being crucial to the mission somehow.”


“It may very well be,” Obi-Wan replied haughtily, turning to glance at the taller man. “And only you could make being well-prepared sound like a bad thing. Perhaps you should try it sometime, Anakin. You might find it a refreshing change of pace.”


“Where’s the fun in that?” Anakin joked, and you felt a small smile tug at the corner of your lips at the exasperated expression on Obi-Wan’s face. “And considering I’m always the one that has to rescue you , I think I’ll stick to my way of doing things.”


“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you cut in, abruptly reminding both men that you were still present. “Send me what you’ve got on Tieos. I’ll read up on the way to the rendezvous point.”


“Including the geotechnical analysis?” Obi-Wan asked, one eyebrow lifting slightly.


“I suppose it might be helpful,” you shrugged, and Anakin shook his head.


“Maybe, if you aren’t able to use your lightsaber and need to bore someone to death by lecturing them on what types of minerals are found in Tieosian soil,” he scoffed, and you bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a laugh.


“Well, I like to be prepared, too,” you said eventually, and Obi-Wan looked slightly appeased. 


“Very well. I’ll send the files along now,” he told you, offering a polite nod before the holo cut out.


The geotechnical analysis was about as enthralling as you would have expected, but you silently commended his thoroughness. 




It wasn’t difficult to see why Obi-Wan had sought the assistance of someone outside the Order for this particular mission. You highly doubted the Council would have approved pulling one of the other Jedi away from their respective battalions to investigate what appeared to be little more than a suspicion, but evidently they trusted Obi-Wan enough to allow him to follow it. The lead had come from Bail Organa, a senator from Alderaan with whom Obi-Wan had a curiously close bond, after he was contacted by a friend who happened to be one of Alderaan’s top biochemists. For scientists of his caliber, the galaxy shrank to just a small number of colleagues, and the word of experiments being done by a man named Kenhec utilizing organic matter that existed only on Tieos had soon reached his ears. 


Something about the experiments in question had alarmed him enough that he had suggested Bail look into any Republic presence on Tieos, and when Bail’s search had come up empty, he had requested Obi-Wan look into it. If Bail’s hunch was wrong, the mission would be nothing more than a quick diversion to some unremarkable planet in the Outer Rim after which Obi-Wan would return to the war, and you would rejoin Master Altis on Bespin. And if he was right, the two of you would be able to prevent the creation of a bioweapon with catastrophic repercussions for the Republic. For that reason, the Council had agreed it was worth looking into, but had looked to Bail to make the arrangements necessary rather than using Temple resources. 


Obi-Wan had seemed apologetic when explaining that the two of you would be posing as a married couple passing through the capital of Tieos on the way to pay a visit to his family, telling you that it was the best background story Bail had been able to provide on such short notice, but you noticed that he hadn’t sounded entirely convinced. 

“It doesn’t bother me, being married to you,” you told him, offering him a small smile from the co-pilot’s chair of the Twilight , a battered freighter he had borrowed from Anakin for the voyage to Tieos. “Though I suppose we do have differing views on marriage.”


“Yes, it would seem so,” Obi-Wan mused, glancing over at you with a slightly furrowed brow. “Though I assure you I’ve had to assume much worse identities than your husband.”


“Well, that’s good to know,” you joked, “but if there’s anything I can do to make the experience more bearable for you, let me know.”


“Are you…?” he asked, trailing off with a vague gesture, sounding somewhat uncomfortable.


“What, married?” you replied, watching as he gave a small nod. “No.”


His posture relaxed fractionally, and you gave him a quizzical smile.


“You look relieved,” you remarked, and he hesitated for a moment.


“Well, if you were married, I can’t imagine your partner would be entirely thrilled about this—” he started, and you bristled slightly.


“If I were, my partner would understand that our falsified marriage is nothing to be upset over,” you told him, frowning. “We may allow those in our community to marry, but we don’t encourage possessive love any more than your Order does, Master Kenobi.” 


“I meant no offense,” he said quickly, and you waved a hand as if to absolve him, giving him a small smile.


“None taken. I know our practices can be difficult to understand, especially for those raised in the Temple,” you replied, and he frowned.


“I understand well enough,” he told you, sounding mildly affronted, and you raised an eyebrow. “I may not agree with those practices, but—”


“With which ones in particular?” you cut in, and he paused for a moment.


“Marriage. Starting families. With so many attachments, I don’t see how it’s possible for your judgment to remain unclouded,” he said simply, almost too matter-of-factly, and now you frowned.


“If marrying and starting a family leads to clouded judgment, why has the Council allowed one of its own members to do so?” you retorted, and he shook his head dismissively.


“The Cerean’s population is in decline. Ki-Adi-Mundi is simply doing his duty to prevent his species from going extinct,” he answered, and you scoffed.


“But since he isn’t attached to any of his wives or children, the Dark Side will avoid him like he’s got a case of Loedorvian Brain Plague, right?” you asked sarcastically, and one corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched up.


“A rather colorful way of putting it,” he remarked crisply, “but no, I do not believe he is attached to any of them.”


“You’re wrong,” you said simply, and he turned ever so slightly to look at you. “No one is immune to attachments. Not even you, Master Kenobi.”


“Perhaps that’s what you’ve been lead to believe,” he replied loftily, and you scowled.


“I believe it because it’s true ,” you answered strongly. “And whether you like it or not, there are others that were raised in the Temple that agree with me. Your former Master was one of them, from what Master Altis has told me.” 


Obi-Wan’s gaze snapped to you instantly, his bright blue eyes thrumming with the same fierce energy that his lightsaber did in the heat of battle. 


“Qui-Gon Jinn held many beliefs that didn’t align with the Council’s,” he told you coldly, and you recoiled. “As much as I respected him, I didn’t always agree with him either. And I don’t on this matter, so I’m afraid you’ll have to try harder than that if you want to convince me.”


There was a long pause, the Twilight silent save for the gentle hum of the sublight engines urging the ship ever closer to Tieos.


“I didn’t mean to upset you,” you said quietly. “All that I meant was that someone as wise as Qui-Gon Jinn agreed that emotional attachment wasn’t necessarily a bad thing so long as it didn’t veer into something possessive—or obsessive—and that has to be worth something to you.”


“It is,” Obi-Wan agreed, his brow furrowed slightly. “But I believe the only way it wouldn’t be a bad thing was if you could ensure that the emotional attachments you formed didn’t affect anyone else. And as wise as Qui-Gon was, I don’t think he ever figured out how to prevent such a thing.”


“But if you could prevent it, you wouldn’t be so opposed?” you questioned, and he gave you a skeptical look.


“If Master Yoda in all his years hasn’t figured out a way to, I very much doubt I will. But I’ll be sure to let you know if I do,” he told you wryly, and you grinned, feeling that it was as close to a concession as you would get from him.


“Did you happen to tell him you were getting married for this operation?” you joked, and the corner of his mouth lifted infinitesimally. 


“I did,” he nodded, his expression smoothing out once more before adding in a tone of the utmost seriousness,


“He offered me his heartfelt congratulations.”




The vibrant capital of Tieos was a welcome change from the decaying cities you had spent so much time in since leaving the enclave on Bespin, and you made a silent promise to return one day so that you could explore the winding streets at your leisure rather than hurrying alongside Obi-Wan as he made his way to Sonelea Inn. It was remarkable how quickly he had fallen into the role of Alic Bruciss, a former citizen of Sonelea that had left to obtain a degree at the University of Coruscant, where he had met you, and decided to stay after graduating to pursue a career in engineering. He had begun speaking differently before the Twilight exited hyperspace, his precise accent softening into a low lilt, even adopting a slight mumble on certain words that had previously been spoken with a confident enunciation that was indicative of a Coruscanti native. His purposeful strides were now less self-assured, his posture changing to mimic someone who spent too many hours hunched over a desk, and when coupled with his civilian clothing, he was nearly unrecognizable as the illustrious Jedi you had seen so many times on HNE. 


“So when did they start teaching theatre classes at the Temple?” you asked quietly as you strode beside him, and he glanced over at you with an amused expression.


“They have yet to add them to the curriculum,” he replied, “but I believe they would be a prudent addition after how many undercover operations I’ve been involved in as of late.” 


“They may as well, considering they have such an accomplished actor in their ranks,” you said teasingly. 


“Somehow I can’t imagine the Council will approve of me excusing myself from the war in order to teach theatre to younglings,” he told you drily, and you laughed.


“Maybe once the war is won,” you suggested, and he gave you a grim smile.


“Well, let’s hope that coming here has brought us one step closer to winning it.”




You let Obi-Wan do most of the talking with the innkeeper, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the incredulous look off your face as he held an entire conversation about how much the city had changed since he had last paid a visit home as if it wasn’t his first time setting foot on Teosian soil. 


“And how are you liking Tieos so far, dear?” asked the innkeeper, an elderly man with kind brown eyes the same color as Cosian wood. “You’re awfully quiet back there.”


“It’s lovely. I’m just a little weary from traveling is all,” you replied, offering him a small smile, and Obi-Wan shot you an apologetic look. 


“I’m sorry, my darling,” he murmured warmly, wrapping his arm around your waist and drawing you against his side to press a kiss to your temple. “Let’s get you up to the room so you can have a bit of a lie-down before dinner, hmm?” 


You nodded silently, momentarily taken aback by the sudden but very genuine display of affection, your skin tingling slightly where his lips had been just seconds before. 


“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, taking the keycard from the innkeeper with a grateful smile before turning and leading you up a narrow flight of stairs to the room, one hand resting on the small of your back.  


As soon as the door slid closed after the two of you, he let his hand fall to his side as he paced about the room, feeling into the corners of the ceiling and frowning as he looked around. 


“All clear,” he told you after a moment, and you sank onto the edge of the almost comically large bed, sighing as you flopped backward onto the plush duvet.


“Great. So what’s the plan?” you asked, turning to the side slightly to look at Obi-Wan as he peered out the window, chin tucked between his thumb and forefinger.


“I’m afraid all we have to go on is Kenhec’s home address,” he replied, lips pursed in thought. “I highly doubt he’s conducting these experiments there, but I believe if we can catch him leaving his home, he’ll lead us to his laboratory.” 


“So we wait until nightfall and then make our way there?” you questioned, and he gave a small shake of his head. 


“Based on the location of his address, we’re less likely to encounter anyone if we go in the early hours of the morning so we may as well get some rest while we can. I’ve brought some ration bars with me so we don’t have to venture out for food,” he said, and you pulled a face at the memory of the bland, chalky bars you had first tried during the mission to JanFathal. 


“But you told the innkeeper we were just having a lie-down before dinner, won’t get be suspicious if we don’t come back down?” you wheedled, hoping he would relent and allow you to venture out to one of the food stalls you had passed on the way to the inn.


“I’m sure he can think of plenty of reasons for why a married couple might choose to stay in for the evening,” he responded, raising an eyebrow at you amusedly. 


“Such as?” you prompted, propping yourself up on an elbow and fixing him with an expectant stare. 


“I’m sure you would know better than I would,” he said after a moment, effortlessly sidestepping the question. “You’re much more familiar with the behavior of married couples than I am, after all.”


You rolled your eyes and went back to staring at the ceiling, annoyed that you had failed to get a rise out of him as it was the only thing you could think of to do in order to entertain yourself.


This was going to be a very long night.




The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, plunging the room into darkness illuminated only by a slice of moonlight filtering through the curtains, and the dim blue glow of Obi-Wan’s datapad. He had been in the same position since returning from the fresher, tucked into the chair in the corner, with one ankle propped over his knee and his ’pad clutched in one hand while fingertips of the other drifted over the screen. You looked over your shoulder at him from where you had curled up on the bed, noticing how his shoulders slumped wearily.


“Are you planning on getting any sleep?” you asked, and he glanced up from the screen.


“In a little while,” he replied noncommittally, and you frowned.


“Well, I can’t until you do. That screen is too bright,” you said irritably, and he shut it off immediately.


“I apologize. I didn’t realize I was keeping you up,” he told you quietly, setting the datapad on the floor beside him and folding his hands in his lap before closing his eyes.


“What are you doing?” you questioned, and one of his eyes opened to meet yours.


“Sleeping,” he answered plainly, as if it should have been obvious.


“You can sleep in the bed,” you pointed out, rolling over to face him. 


“Thank you, but I’m quite comfortable where I am,” he responded serenely, and you gave him the most exaggerated eye roll you could manage. 


“I’m certain you’re not. Come on, Obi-Wan. You’re going to wake up with a crick in your neck if you sleep like that,” you said cajolingly, and he hesitated for a moment before nodding and rising to his feet. 


After stepping out of his boots, he carefully got into bed, laying atop the covers with his arms rigid at his sides as he looked up at the ceiling in silence. 


“This is somehow worse,” you remarked after a beat. “I promise, sharing a bed isn’t a path to the Dark Side—”


“I know that,” he snapped. “Contrary to what you may believe about orthodox Jedi, we aren’t all so prudish as to believe that.” 


“But some of you are celibate,” you pointed out, and he gave a short huff of annoyance.


“Yes. But I’m not,” he told you simply, and your eyes widened slightly in surprise as you turned to look at him. 


He was still staring straight up, his elegant profile illuminated by the moonlight, his chest gently rising and falling beneath his tunic, and you had a sudden urge to reach out and feel the steady motion beneath your palm. 


“Really?” you asked, and he one corner of his mouth twitched up.


“I suppose I should be offended by your surprise,” he commented, and you bit your lip, debating on how to answer.


“Given your aversion to emotional attachment, I assumed you weren’t involved with anyone,” you started.


“I’m not,” he interjected flatly.


“But you also don’t seem like the type to do anything casually,” you continued, and he was silent for a moment. 


“It’s rare that I partake,” he conceded eventually, sounding mildly uncomfortable. “I suppose I could easily be celibate if I wished.”


“You must not have partaken with the right people then if it would be that easy for you,” you joked, but he didn’t laugh.


“I have no complaints about the abilities of any of my former partners,” he said diplomatically, and you cut in before you could stop yourself.


“So maybe you didn’t know what you were doing,” you countered, but instead of looking offended, a rather self-satisfied smile crossed his face.


“And none of my partners have had any complaints about my performance, I assure you,” he finished smoothly, and you made a skeptical noise.


“If you say so,” you remarked with as much doubt as you could muster, and a tiny crease appeared between his eyebrows. 


“I know what you’re doing,” he said wryly, rolling toward you. “But you aren’t going to goad me into proving something to you.”


“I wasn’t—” you spluttered, embarrassed that he had caught on to your intentions only moments after you had realized them. 


“You were,” he cut in mildly, “though it was quite unnecessary. If you want me to show you, you need only ask.” 


Your cheeks went hot at the meaning behind his words, and you rolled your lower lip between your teeth, swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat as he watched you patiently.


“Okay,” you whispered, your voice rough with a mixture of uncertainty and desire. “Show me.”


“With pleasure,” he hummed, and then his lips were on yours. 


One of his hands came to cradle the back of your head as he pressed you into the mattress, your mouth parting to allow him to deepen the kiss and you sighed into it as his weight settled against you. You pushed your fingers through the hair at his nape, drawing him as close as you could as his tongue slid against yours, letting him languidly familiarize himself with your mouth. His kisses gradually drifted to your jaw, then slowly lower as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, mouthing at the skin there and licking into the divot at the base of your throat. 


“May I take this off?” he murmured against your ear, tugging at the hem of your tunic, and you nodded eagerly, sitting up to allow him to pull it overhead. 


You reached for him, attempting to rid him of his top layer, and he frowned at you ever so slightly, catching your wrist with one hand. 


“I haven’t asked you to do that,” he admonished, and you stilled immediately, a thrill running through you at his warning tone. 


“I’m sorry,” you breathed, letting your hand fall to your side, and he acknowledged the apology with a small nod, skimming one hand down your chest to your sternum, gently pushing you back against the pillows. 


“Lay back,” he commanded softly, and you acquiesced, your breath hitching as you felt the tickle of his beard against your collarbone, breathing in the clean scent of his hair and burying your fingers in it once more. 


His lips trailed down to the cleft between your breasts, moving lower as he eased your trousers down with your underclothes, pushing them down to your knees. Returning his mouth to yours, his hand slid over your belly, heating your skin in its wake as he brought it between your thighs. You rocked against him as his fingers dragged through your slick heat, pulling back so he could watch you as he slowly pushed one inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust before beckoning against a place within you that pulled a choked noise from your lips. 


“Does that feel good, little one?” he asked calmly, watching you intently as you nodded, your breathing uneven. “Or do you need more?”


“More, please,” you begged, letting your knees fall apart as far as they could with your trousers still partially on. “Please, Obi-Wan—”


He stifled your plea with a kiss, pushing another finger inside of you and working it to the knuckle before withdrawing them both at an achingly slow pace, curling them ever so slightly as you moaned into his mouth. His thumb brushed over your clit, causing your hips to jerk up in response, and you whimpered when he began to move trace over it more insistently, his fingers working in tandem. Drawing away again, his eyes locked onto yours as you began to tremble around him, trapping his hand between your thighs. 


“Do you want to come like this, or on my mouth?” he murmured, ceasing his ministrations, and you let out a soft curse, torn between the fullness of his fingers settled deep inside of you and the ache to feel his tongue where his thumb was rubbing against you.


“Your mouth,” you forced out after a moment, and he gave a pleased smile, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them into his mouth with a low groan. 


“You taste lovely, little one,” he told you quietly, and you whined his name in response, impatience getting the better of you as he leaned down to press a line of kisses from your sternum down to just below your navel. 


He dragged your trousers fully off your legs, discarding them off the side of the bed, and settled on his stomach, spreading your thighs with his calloused palms. His breath was hot and teasing against your aching flesh, beard tickling your skin as he finally parted you with his tongue, humming against your clit as you tugged at his hair. Pushing your legs toward your chest, he buried his face between them as a series of curses and pleas tumbled from your lips, muffled by your forearm. 


Though you had no doubt that he could have taken hours to tease your release from you had he wished, he was attentive, responding to each hitch of your breath, each jut of your hips against his mouth as he brought you ever closer to unraveling. Every moan and whimper that escaped your lips seemed to spur him on, and when your voice broke on his name, he groaned against you, dragging his body over the sheets almost feverishly to bring himself a semblance of the same pleasure he was bringing you. Propping yourself up onto your elbows to watch, you bit down on your lower lip at the sight of his face between your thighs, rutting against the bed as you began to shake around him. 


“Obi-Wan—” you gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as the sensation began to overtake you, and he gripped your legs tighter in response, coaxing you through it with slow strokes of his tongue until the feeling became so overwhelming you had to push him away.


He pressed a kiss just beside your knee before sliding off the bed and removing his clothes with a grace you admired even in your hazy state. Climbing back atop the bed, he leaned back down to kiss you, and you arched into him, returning the kiss heatedly as you tasted yourself on his lips. He let out a soft sigh as your mouth trailed down to his neck, sucking at the skin there as his hands looped around your wrists and pinned them above you. Pressing against you, he found your mouth with his again, nipping at your lower lip, a moan reverberating against your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist, your heat sliding over his cock where it lay trapped between your bodies.


Shifting slowly, you pulled back slightly to watch him as you coated him in your slickness, canting forward slightly so that your clit brushed against him and let out a choked gasp as he began to rock you back and forth. Licking the pad of his thumb, he brought it down to the point of contact between the two of you, circling your clit with steady, unhurried movements as his free hand held your wrists in place. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his eyes heavy with longing as his mouth, still wet with your arousal, parted slightly to allow a low groan to pass over his lips. 


“Please,” you whispered, squeezing him between your legs, desperate for him. “Please, Obi-Wan, I need—”


“I know what you need, darling,” he murmured, kissing you deeply before sliding into you in one fluid movement, forcing the air from your lungs with the swiftness of the motion .  


Arching against him, you breathed out his name almost reverentially as he began to thrust into you achingly slow, letting you feel every inch of him. His forehead rested against yours, his thumb drawing insistent circles between your bodies as you buried a cry into his mouth. He drew back to look at you, a flush rising beneath the thatch of hair on his chest as you began to clench around him, the friction increasing with each movement. 


“Come for me, little one,” he urged you, his breath hitching on the words as you pressed up into him. “Let me feel you—”


You let out a choked sob against his neck as you came apart for him, coaxing a soft moan from his lips as your body shuddered around his. His hips jutted against yours erratically, teeth gritted as his hand moved from between your legs to grip your thigh, pushing it back towards your chest to allow him to sink even deeper into your heat. Pushing back against the pillows, you watched as his eyes squeezed shut, sweat-dampened hair falling over his forehead, fragments of something that might have been your name audible between each breath before his body tautened and then released. His thrusts gradually slowed to a standstill, his hold on you relinquishing before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the skin just below your ear.


“Well, I think you proved your point,” you told him after a moment, and his mouth curved into a smile against your skin. 


“I’m happy to do so again, lest there be any lingering doubts about my abilities,” he replied, and you let out a quiet laugh. 


“Just for the sake of thoroughness,” you said, and he nodded seriously. 


“I do enjoy being thorough,” he responded thoughtfully, rolling to the side and propping himself up on one elbow to look at you.


“I know,” you murmured, reaching up to kiss him before adding, 


“I had to read your blasted geotechnical analysis.”