the come & go - prologue

summary: a recount of every time obi-wan kenobi fell in love with you and every time one of you left. - a.k.a “the one where your relationship is like a revolving door”

warnings: age gap, mentions of death

reviving this series from 2+ years ago - w some parts edited/rewritten - because i lost direction with it but the new kenobi series has made me fall back in love with him and also this. still tho, no spoilers in this. enjoy xx

-jazz

Obi-Wan Kenobi could have sworn that he was cursed with the most difficult Padawans.

Okay– technically speaking, you weren’t his Padawan. you’d lost your own master in a battle not so long ago and Obi-Wan had been tasked with seeing you through the final months before your Jedi trials. Initially, it was something that had seemed like a simple task. he’d dealt with Anakin for so long that you couldn’t have possibly been any worse, right?

Wrong.

Obi-Wan would quickly come to learn that Anakin Skywalker had nothing on you. He could tell from the minute he saw you, nonchalantly lounging in an empty council chair with your lightsaber dangling between your fingers and a blasé look of disinterest on your features. It was the sort of expression one might have if they were getting an unwarranted lecture from their parents – and with the way Yoda was going, it was a similar scenario.

At twenty-one years old, you were in no position to have such a demeanour when an ages-old Jedi Master was trying to talk to you. Obi-Wan was almost scared for you – and then your eyes met across the room, and he realised he was the one to be blessed with your difficult presence for the next few months. After that, he was scared for himself.

It was rightfully so, too. It became quickly evident that you had a sharp tongue and your wits about you; every question he offered, every conversation starter he threw out there was met with a backhanded comment or a dry quip.

Your first conversation was enough to knock him for six. he’d half-expected you to be a blubbering mess, a young girl heartbroken by the loss of her master. Instead, you were almost dismissive; a casually unconcerned Padawan with a cynical tone and a mischievous glint in your eye.  

“So,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat, eyes watching Coruscant blur past you as the lift took you to the top floor. “What do you think of the Temple?”

“I mean…it sure is a temple,” you glanced back at him, thinning your eyes with undue suspicion. “I don’t really have many feelings about architecture. It’s just bricks and shit, right?”

He blinked in surprise, almost faltering from his strong stance. "Some people get overwhelmed the first time they’re here.”

“I’m not overwhelmed,” you shrugged casually. "I’m not underwhelmed either. I’m just sort of…whelmed.”

The first ten years of your training – give or take – had been at a smaller Jedi base, much, much further away in the Outer Rims. The village in which it was situated was about a tenth the size of Coruscant and worlds away from the bustling, energetic city. He remembered being a wide-eyed Padawan when he’d first arrived here and yet, you didn’t seem phased. You had a calm manner about you, something for which he had not been prepared. You weren’t acting like a Padawan who had just lost her master, nor one who had been torn from her home and thrown into an urban jungle.

“I’m sorry to hear about Gio’s passing,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat, making a last-ditch attempt to break the thick, awkward silence that had filled the elevator.  Had it always been this slow?

“Eh,” you shrugged again.

Had…Had you just responded to the subject of your dead master by saying eh?

(That moment could be marked as the first time that you actually managed to shock the poor man into silence. Soon enough, it was a regular occurrence).

“I…” Obi-Wan trailed off, pausing for a moment to regain himself. “Gio was a good friend of mine. He was a good man, a good Jedi-”

“- yeahhhhhh,” you cut him off. “He was kind of a dick though.”

The elevator finally came to a stop and you stepped out, breezing down the hallway and leaving Obi-Wan to simply stare at your strolling form in shock. He cleared his throat and regathered himself (for the fourth time in ten minutes), rushing out of the lift just as the doors were about to shut on him.

That’s how things often went between you two over the next few months. he’d try and say something - usually, something completely normal, like a genuine question or an observation - and you would shoot back with something that could knock him off his feet. Just as Obi-Wan thought he was getting the hang of…well, of you, you’d turn it up a notch. 

But you more than just a girl with a sharp tongue - he knew that when he met you, and he knew it even more as the days and weeks passed. You were smart, deceptive in an assuming way. You could draw people in with your young appearance and sweet smile, and then you’d slaughter them in the same way a cheetah did to a hyena. You had the presence of an intergalactic spy more than a Jedi, and the lightsaber moves to go with it. 

There was one incident in particular that stuck with Obi-Wan. It was two months after you’d begun to bless him with your presence and you were in a training session. Anakin, a bright-eyed seventeen-year-old, was sat on the sidelines watching you twirl your lightsaber with the sort of grace one might expect from an ageing master, not a Padawan.

“Did your master teach you that?” Obi-Wan paused for a moment, pushing back a few strewn, strawberry strands of hair. He was red in the face, almost keeling over from your endless stamina and quick moves. 

“No,” you shook your head, a sly grin working its way onto your face. “Itaught me that." 

"Let’s go again,” he announced. "And this time, stick to moves that I"ve taught you.”

“Why?”you thinned your eyes at him. “Scared that you’lll lose?”

“If you spent more time on your fighting than you did try to be smart, you would have passed the trials by now,” he shot back. He was trying to get a rise out of you - he often did. It was his way of sparking your drive. 

“Oh, you didnot just say that.”

You raised your own lightsaber launching yourself forward to swing a hit at him. Obi-Wan easily blocked it, the blue of his blade forming purple smacks as it hit your red one. You drew back, going to swing underneath his legs; he jumped, narrowly avoiding the hit. 

“Just admit it!” you continued to thwack and hit, circling around the mat in the gym. “I’m ready for the trials, Kenobi.”

“That’sMaster-”

“- you’re not my Master,” You reminded him, dodging backwards to avoid a hit in a weird, limbo style move. “Gio was my master, and he’s dead, remember?”

You appeared to have zero grievances about your late master. Obi-Wan had never caught you mourning, or even shedding a tear over him. Of all the things he didn’t understand about you, that one seemed to take the cake. It had been eight years since he’d lost his own master and he still struggled with Qui-Gon’s passing - and here you were, more than happy to throw out the name of your deceased Jedi Knight like it was a curse word. 

That was when Obi-Wan realised what your play was. you’d make a comment so blasphemous, so shocking, that he’d have no choice but to reel back in horror - and that was when you’d take your hit. Like I said - deceptive in an unassuming way. 

Waiting for him to pause at your words, you used the Force to pull his lightsaber with your hands. A celebratory grin appeared on your face as you raised the weapon in the air, shutting it down as you juggled it with your own. 

The moment wasn’t particularly different to anything you’d done before; you’d made a comment and won a lightsaber duel. That was pretty much a Tuesday for Obi-Wan - but this one stood out for a particular reason. 

That was the first time he realised how beautiful you were.

You were stood directly under the stream of light from the window, the golden evening glow lighting up your face as you did an odd little victory dance. He could quite literallyfeelyour elatedness through the Force - which was odd, because you didn’t have a Force connection and you were good at blocking other nosy Jedi - and it had uplifted him too. 

Then, you tossed Obi-Wan’s lightsaber back to him as quick as you’d swiped it, giving him a slight wink. 

It wasn’t much, but it was the first sign of trouble. 

The next incident came at the five-month mark. By that point, both him and Anakin had become accustomed to your presence. Obi-Wan was alittleconcerned of your rebellious influence over his young Padawan but if anything, you were simply like an older sibling. The teenager seemed to idolize you and he actually listened to you. 

And you weren’t just developing a relationship with Anakin; naturally, you’d become closer with Obi-Wan. He liked to think that you were friends or at the very least, two people who mutually respected each other. You hardly listened to him but he’d known from the second that you weren’t huge on taking orders. At first, it was a mystery as to how you’d even lasted that long - but then it became clear. 

You were strong with the Force. In fact, you seemed to understand it in a way that no-one else did. You were hardly an expert in using it but you were so sure of yourself and so certain in what you wanted that you could bend it and shape it to your desire. You could use it to fetch faraway items in the same way that you could use it to block other people from using it to understand how you were feeling. 

But Obi-Wan saw through you. The whole world could tell, because you slammed doors and stomped your feet but he was the only one who could sense that was something was deeply off. You put up a good fight - an impressive barricade of fake Force emotions and even phonier smiles - but he knew when you weren’t genuine. Your sarcastic quips didn’t come with that glint in your eyes, and you hadn’t insulted him all day. 

Thatwas how he ended up outside your door; Obi-Wan didn’t mean to worry about you so much, but it felt only natural. He was concerned for you in the same way he was for Anakin. Except, maybe- just maybe - it was a little deeper than that but if he could half-convince himself of it, hopefully you’d believe it too.

He only had to knock once before you opened the door to your quarters. Your eyes were slightly bleary; you hadn’t been crying, but it looked as though you were about to be pushed over the edge. 

“I know that something was off with you today,” Obi-Wan didn’t bother with a greeting. 

“I’mfine,”you shook your head. "It’s late. Shouldn’t old people like you be asleep?”

He thinned his eyes at you. “It doesn’t do well to bottle up your feelings." 

"How do you know what I’m feeling?” you shot back. Turning on your heel, you spun around to head back into your room. Obi-Wan was hesitant to follow at first, but he took the open-ended statement as an invitation. 

He hadn’t been in your room before, but somehow it was exactly as he’d expected it to be. The place was tidy-but-cluttered; your bed was made and your books were organised, but there were robes and random knick-knacks stacked and strewn everywhere. He didn’t understand how you could have possibly used the space to meditate and relax - but you didn’t seem like the sort of person who did either of those things. 

“So?”

“So what?”

“So how do you know what I’m feeling?” you took a seat at the foot of your bed, folding your arms across your chest. 

“When you’ve been a Jedi as long as I have, sensing other people’s emotions simply becomes second nature,” Obi-Wan replied. “Especially in your...Padawans.” 

“Okay - two things,” you jabbed your finger at him. “Firstly, I am not your Padawan. Secondly, I don’t spend twenty minutes each morning trying to put a Force blockade for you to pretend to know what I’m feeling.”

“There’s no blockade,” he shook his head. “There can’t be, not if I can tell that you’re anxious and you’re scared-”

“- there is,” you cut him off. "I might have not passed the Knight trials yet but blocking people from feeling my emotions was like….chapter one of the Jedi texts.”

There was always the possibility that your attempts at doing so had simply fallen flat, but you were right in saying it was a basic Jedi trick. It was a simple device, something that he’d mastered himself by the time he was eighteen. That left only one option, and it was one that he didn’t like. 

Obi-Wan could see through your facade, through your attempts to hinder people from feeling your sentiments. He could feel your emotions as though were his own, as if he could understand them in a way that no-one else could. You weren’t making yourself vulnerable to him, not intentionally. There was only one possible explanation for it.

It was the beginning of a Force connection - one that neither of you had ever intended to forge. 

He couldn’t tell you that. He’d have to explain why, but he wasn’t entirely sure what it meant. It certainly wasn’t one of a Padawan and her master; that would have taken much longer. It was also worlds away from any kind of connection that friends would have - and that’s what the pair of you were, no?

So Obi-Wan gave you a fake smile. He agreed with you, pretending to admit that yes, he was pretending to feel your emotions. He didn’t admit that he felt everything you were experiencing; he didn’t tell you that he could sense every fleeting thought and every transient connection…

…Including the one where you suspected you might have felt something too.

But, you and Obi-Wan were nothing if not good at pretending you were hiding your feelings. He left your room that night and neither of you ever mentioned it again, even though you both knew what it was. What had started as a simple admiration for the other had begun to grow into something beyond either of your control. 

It was easy at first to pretend that you falling for the Jedi; sliding closer and closer down the slippery slope of unrequited feelings with each passing day. Every smile that you exchanged and every glint of mischief that Obi-Wan sensed whenever you made a sarcastic quip was passed off as normal; nobody else could tell what was going on - and thank fuck, because then you’d both be truly screwed. 

It was eight months in that the cracks in your guise began to show. You were on a mission - nothing particularly dangerous or out of the ordinary. Having been assigned to take down some particularly nasty and rebellious bounty hunters, you, Obi-Wan and Anakin felt a little over-qualified for the job but it was all the more reason to do it. You were desperate to prove yourself, to finally be awarded knighthood.

Perhaps it was that cockiness that lead you to slip up. You ended up with a knife in your shoulder, dangerously close to your chest; it was bad, but not so bad that you were going to lifelessly flail to the ground, or die on the jet home.  With some bacta-spray and a few stitches, you were going to be fiiiiine. 

Obi-Wan didn’t see it that way though. Oh, he did not see it that way at all; the Jedi knight blew his lid in a way that shocked even Anakin, and that was truly saying something when you considered his Padawan’s reckless nature. He yelled - he shouted and he ranted and he nagged until his throat was raw and his face red.

“How could you do something so stupid? I almost - we almost lost you. Do you want to be a Jedi knight? Because you can’t do that if you’re dead, and you certainly won’t pass the trials if you blindly run towards danger like that.”

You weren’t an idiot - and it didn’t take one to know that Obi-Wan’s outburst wasn’t about the trials. It wasn’t about you being reckless; it was far from it. It was the fact he could have lost you, and even though you’d only been in his life for the better part of eight months, he’d never become attached so fast. You’d made him do the one thing he’d always sworn not to and the worst part was that you weren’t even trying. 

You were just there, simply existing - and apparently, it was enough to drive him insane. 

Then, you’d been there ten months. You’d been prancing about Obi-Wan Kenobi’s life with your beautiful stature and stupid comments for the better part of three hundred days (not that he was counting). Your repressed feelings for one another were simply a fact of life; something you both acknowledged to yourselves but would never, ever admit. You couldn’t and you wouldn’t - or so you told yourself. 

It was common for Jedi to accompany politicians on diplomatic missions; you were to act as a bodyguard of sorts and keep an eye out for any danger. You and Obi-Wan had been assigned to keep an eye on a ball in Naboo. 

It was a beautiful planet; bustling and peaceful, energetic and calming all at once. The weather was beautiful and it was one of the missions that made your job feel worth it. Everything had gone to plan and you’d even retired early for the night, taking to the balcony of your luxurious hotel room to admire the view. 

The sky was tinged pink, bleeding into the remaining blue of the evening as the day faded out into night. There was a slight chill in the warm air, a welcome contrast to the otherwise stuffy atmosphere that had been shrouding the planet during the day. 

You heard your hotel room door open - you didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. You could sense Obi-Wan from the other side of the galaxy if you had tried, let alone ten metres away. He had a calm presence, one of a weathered and levelled Jedi who probably meditated a lot. Neither part of that statement was something you could relate to.

“Nice view, right?” you kept your back to him, arms gently dangling over the rails of the balcony.

“It certainly one of the more beautiful parts of the galaxy,” Obi-Wan replied. A moment later, you saw him mimic your position out the corner of your eye. 

"What brings you to my neck of the woods?” you asked, tilting your head to face him.

He knew what he wanted to say: I can feel everything that you’re experiencing and I know that you’re sad, but this is the best planet in the galaxy and I can’t work out why. 

But because of the slight not-admitting-your-feelings pickle, Obi-Wan settled for a simple “you looked sad today.”

He’d half been expecting an insult; a fuck off, you nosy Jedi or a go back to whatever planet you came from, mullet head. He had never in a million years thought that you would entertain his question, let alone open up to him.

“I used to come here with Gio,” you continued to stare out into the distance. "He worked with the Queen a lot and more often than not, we’d be assigned this exact sort of job. It was kind of our place.”

That was the first sign you’d shown of missing your master. Maker, of course you missed him - you’d spent the better part of your almost-twenty-two years with him. He was an asshole in every sense of the word but he’d been like a brother to you. It also confirmed to Obi-Wan that you were probablya human being and not a sarcastic, person-like droid, something which came of a relief to him. 

“I slag the man off to no end but I loved him,” you continued. "He was the only family I had, the only connection to an identity beyond being a Padawan.”

“I felt the same when I lost Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan reached across, gently resting his hand on top of yours. “I felt lost without his guidance, as though the world were suddenly a lot bigger. A lot darker.”

“Gio always seemed to know what to do,” you fondly smiled. "He definitely didn’t know everything but he was good at acting like it.”

“Perhaps that’s where youget it from,” he nudged you slightly with his elbow. 

"If I turn out half as good a Jedi as him, then I’m happy,” you replied.

"You are a brilliant Jedi, farmore than half as good as Gio,” Obi-Wan gave your hand a light squeeze. "A little reckless, yes, but you have all the makings of a brilliant warrior.”

“Is this the part where you tell me it’s because of your training over the last ten months?” you fully rotated your body around to face him, a teasing smile on your face.

“Isuppose that might have helped,” he beamed back at you. "It’s not been an easy situation for either of us. I’ve got my hands tied up with Anakin and you lost your master at the worst time.”

“It"s not been that bad though, surely?” you scrunched up your nose. “I’d love to have me, I’m pretty fucking cool.”

“You are.”

“Say it,” you flipped your hand over underneath his, intertwining your fingers. "I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“Say what?”

“That I’m pretty fucking cool.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip for a moment - but then he smiled. “You’re pretty fucking cool.”

It was hardly the most romantic set-up for your first kiss but as the words left his lips, you felt something click. You were miles out from the temple - miles out from all your troubles. At that moment, with the way he was smiling at you, blue eyes distant caught under the pink of the evening and fingers intertwined, it felt like you were the only two people in the galaxy. 

Obi-Wan"s lips were soft, welcoming and warm like a mellow summer’s day. Your bodies slotted together perfectly, his hands on your hips and yours on his neck as though whoever had created the galaxy had crafted them just for each other. It stole the air from your lungs and nothing else - not a single person, not a single issue or single rule - mattered. It was him and only him. 

That was when he finally admitted to himself that he was in love with you. It wasn’t in a simple way either; it was deep and it was true and there was no letting go. 

And letting go would be something both of you struggled with every time the galaxy seemed to want to rip the two of you apart. 

Robes and Rules - Obi Wan Kenobi

“Parting is such sweet sorrow” - Romeo and Juliet

You stirred at a sound of rustling. It was a strange way of waking. For after so long, you were used to being stirred by wandering hands and the dimness of the light’s morning setting, that bathed your quarters in a soft yellow glow. It was a colder way of waking that left you wanting.

And at the sight of Obi Wan is shrugging on his first robes, it’s chill grew. Your chest grew heavy and tension gathered in your shoulders. Every weight you felt, that of the world, the galaxy, this situation, shifted with you as laid on your side to watch your lover leave.

“Is it time already?” Your words came out horse, riddled with the leftovers of sleep and haunted by the blissed-out ghost of your voice from the night before. Obi Wan already slipped his arms through the sleeves as you asked. When he pivoted his stance to face you, you caught a glimmer in his blue eyes.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Pity,” you murmured, turning to rest on your back and face the cold, lonely ceiling. “Felt like there were things we could continue.”

“For both our sakes, I don’t think we should.”

“Careful,” you warned, flicking your gaze back over to Obi Wan. “You’re starting to sound more and more like the collective Council.”

“There are rules, Y/N.”

You nodded bitterly and returned your eyes to the ceiling. The moment you did, you heard Obi Wan’s boot clomp against the floor of your room. It took your every ounce of willpower to keep from watching him as he walked out your door. You simply stayed still, listening for the hiss that would come with the opening entrance and his dulled footfalls.

When the sound of the door never sounded, you turned your head and saw him. Obi Wan stood at your bedside, paces away from the exit, paces away from leaving. He was yours, for a few seconds longer. You reached out a lazy hand in the hopes he would take, prove that he was truly yours. That he would stay.

“There are feelings too, Obi,” you countered softly. “Unless there isn’t?”

“No, there are,” he whispered. Obi Wan took your extended hand and a trembling breath slipped past your lips.

Almost as if he heard the shaking in your throat, he moved to sit on the edge of your bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, incidentally letting you fall closer into his warmth. His bright blue eyes drank in your features and you were thrust back into similar mornings. Mornings of pillow talk and careful caresses before someone’s comm chimed, tore down the peace you built in the peaceful hours of dawn.

“Then we continue.”

“Then we continue,” he replied, but his lips faltered down into a frown. “But you must know that my allegiances to-”

“The Republic,” you interrupted, giving his hand a soft squeeze. You and Obi Wan had talked so many times about this before, what would happen if what you had fell apart. “As are mine, as are all the Jedi.”

“Yes, but my allegiances to you will endure, whether we continue or not. Know that.”

As he spoke, Obi Wan leaned in closer, until his face was tantalizing few inches from your own. His warmth both put you at ease and stole your breath away. When you felt it soak into the sheets of your bed and to your exposed skin beneath, you also became suddenly aware of how vulnerable you were. But as Obi Wan’s free hand moved to cup your face, you knew he would not exploit that fact; he would protect you, always.

“I know now,” you replied once you found your breath again.

A soft silence settled between you then. Obi Wan’s hands remained on you: his left gave yours a gentle squeeze while the right traced your jawline. He drew you in and pressed the lightest of kisses to the corner of your mouth. You smiled when Obi Wan pulled away before you tugged his lips back to yours. He relented, kissed you harder than the last time.

His beard tickled your chin and coaxed your smile to widen. You felt his own mouth mirror your expression. At the sensation, you titled your head back and studied Obi Wan’s expression. How rare it was to see him smile. You leaned back and savored the sight.

“I’ll see you at today’s meeting?” Obi Wan asked, his tone low in a whisper. You merely nodded in response and he leaned forwards once more, pressed yet another kiss to your forehead.

He stood up then, gave your hand a last squeeze, and headed towards the door of your chambers. Watching Obi Wan leave was never easy. Even in those slow mornings of wandering hands, you always felt a pang of loss when he walked away. But then, that morning, with the tingling feeling of his lips on your yours and your skin lingering, it was lessened.

Though, as always, Obi Wan left with a part of your heart in his.