Two Halfs of One Warrior • Obikin/Vaderwan One-Shots

Stubborn in the Bones

• Summary: The cub opens its eyes at the same time Obi-Wan hears Qui-Gon say, as if from far away: “The choice is yours to make. But it’s only right that you be aware that doing so will kill the j’ali."

Intelligent curiosity shines in its eyes. The thought of damning it to a cruel and heartless death brings Obi-Wan physical pain. “No,” whispers Obi-Wan unknowingly. He can’t let the cub die. If he does, he senses that the Force will rip itself loose and leave him a hollow echo.

“I thought so,” says Qui-Gon, resigned.

(While on a mission, Obi-Wan is gifted an unusual beast.)

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Obi-Wan receives the cub as a thank-you for saving the young son and daughter of the ruling matron. The overexcited children plunk it into his arms, their three eyes each narrowed in joy at him, no worse for their interlude with pirates.

"What is this?" he asks with a laugh, cradling the ball of fluff with absolute gentleness, his thumb running down the creature’s skull. It's so young that its eyes haven’t even opened yet.

It should be with its mother, Obi-Wan thinks, even as he marvels at how soft its fur is, dense and rich, a deep gold marked by black stripes. It's a striking pattern, and it resembles a Loth-cat enough that he speculates it’s a similar breed, one that had adapted to living in the jungles of the planet.

The mother, chief of her people, says, "It’s your j’ali.”

Obi-Wan shoots Qui-Gon a confused look; his master strokes his chin and smiles kindly at the matriarch. "What does that mean, precisely?"

"It’s his j’ali," the daughter pipes up. She’s a dazzling aquamarine-blue, and lights shift under her skin with every breath she takes. "J’ali, j’ali!"

The word isn’t one either of them recognizes, but the Jedi stay patient. Obi-Wan lets Qui-Gon be the one to press for more information, preoccupied with cradling the creature in his palms so that it doesn’t get too cold. It’s warm-blooded, that’s obvious; it sleepily burrows into the curve of Obi-Wan’s fingers in search of heat and company. It’s clearly missing its mother, perhaps its littermates.

Pity wells up in Obi-Wan’s heart. Poor thing. If only he and Qui-Gon were the kind to remain in the Temple, he could argue they should take it back with them to Coruscant, raise it, and give a chance for others to study this new breed. But they aren’t. They’re constantly exploring the universe, and while Obi-Wan wouldn’t give that up for anything, the only thing that ever waits for them at home are Qui-Gon’s plants, which don’t mind if droids are the ones to water them on a regular schedule. A living, breathing thing like this creature, that would be an entirely different story.

Obi-Wan raises the j’ali to eye level. He touches his nose to the cub’s fuzzy snout and closes his eyes. He brushes the Living Force of the cub to have something to remember it by, as he knows he'll have to decline their gift.

Something brushes back.

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Obi-Wan wakes up three days later on their ship. He opens his eyes to the medic bay’s ceiling, which he’s uncomfortably familiar with. But unlike other times he’s greeted with that particularly dull bit of durasteel, Obi-Wan is not in pain. Nor are his memories compromised. He’s astoundingly clear-headed and well-rested, senses sharpened and mind peaceful in a way even meditation has not achieved.

He stretches his limbs tentatively, reaffirming that yes, he is whole—and that there’s something on his chest, its weight so slight that he’d miss it if it weren’t right on top of his sternum.