The Countess ━ OBI-WAN KENOBI

Chapter Four

Leilani reluctantly abandoned her search for her former Master, as she met with silence both through the comm and the Force. The vast expanse of space rendered her efforts futile, tethering her hands with the weight of the two parsecs distance. Though the voice of worry whispered in her mind, she found herself immobilised by circumstance, resigned to wait and hope for her return.

Returning to their apartment with a tunic intended for Anakin, Leilani discovered the scene she had left behind: Anakin, nestled in slumber, leaning against Obi-Wan's shoulder. The hydraulic hiss of the door alerted Obi-Wan to her presence, prompting him to hastily wipe away tears that had betrayed his facade of composure. However, it was too late; Leilani had already seen the vulnerability etched upon his features — just didn't say anything.

She carefully placed the folded clothes on one of the dressers, stealing another glance at the duo before approaching them. She made the decision to tuck the boy into bed and give Obi-Wan some space to move freely. With gentle and deliberate movements, she lifted Anakin's small body into her arms, ensuring not to disturb his peaceful sleep. As she held him close, she caught a glimpse of gratitude in Obi-Wan's still pained, foggy eyes. Getting Anakin to bed was a simple task, but leaving him alone proved to be more challenging. The boy turned in her arms, clinging to her once again, refusing to let go. Even after she placed him in bed, his little hands held onto her tightly, reluctant to release their grip.

Eventually, she relied on the Force to grant her the ability to step away from him temporarily, fully intending to return to his side later. With resolve, she stepped out and gently closed the door behind her, casting one more glance at Obi-Wan before walking over to stand in front of him. For a time, they remained in that silent stand-off, Obi-Wan fixated on the durasteel pavement beneath their feet, while Leilani's gaze lingered on him. Neither dared to break the silence or take the first step, hesitant to offer a gesture or even a word of comfort to alleviate the other's pain. It was akin to the moment Anakin had shared earlier — but they didn't want to go away either, they enjoyed just staying there, so close, yet mentally so far away.

"B—...Obi-Wan," her voice trembled as she said his name, but it still wasn't enough to get him to look at her properly. She sighed. "It isn't your fault." She found herself repeating the exact same words that she told Dooku earlier that day.

But how could it not be. He let him go alone, no matter if the walls were the only ones holding him back.

He could've done something. Something to save his Master.

Blame is the protector of the weak, blaming the surroundings, the actions of another. Blame is what destroys the will.

And above all, blame was not the Jedi way.

So, he didn't blame anything else.

Just himself.

She sensed his thoughts, they were loud, and like an open holobook. His guard was carelessly down — mostly because he hadn't the resolve to control it. Not now, at least. "Don't let it destroy you, Obi-Wan," she murmured. But how easy it was to say. "Qui-Gon knew the risks, and he felt the end coming too. It was his fate; as he'd say. No matter what you could've done, there was no way to change it."

"I—," he desperately wanted to respond, to say something witty, sarcastic or even just a simple answer, yet there was not a good or even complete sentence that could've expressed how he felt.

"It's alright, I don't expect a response, nor anything else...I just wanted you to know that no one blames you — he wouldn't blame you. And so, you shouldn't blame yourself." And while it seemed that her way of saying it had finally done the trick and the man looked up at her; it hardly mattered. She didn't stay, but walked back to Anakin's room, settling on the other single bed.