Chapter Text
Inhale.
Calm. A soft glow enclosed everything, the gentle light of quadrillions of lives illuminating everything, chasing away the terror of the unknown.
Exhale.
Peace. The warmth of fellowship of uncounted sentients. Some shone brighter, like lamps in an already-illumined room, chasing away the few shadows that dwelt between the lights.
Inhale.
Darkness, darkness all around, creeping around the edges of the light, growing ever closer and ever stronger.
Exhale.
Tendrils slithered into the light, grasping things that slunk towards the bright lights, enveloping them, snuffing them out and leaving more darkness behind.
Inhale.
A tiny light, blazing so brightly on the edges of the darkness. So radiantly it shone that the darkness was driven back, despite its many attempts to creep closer.
Exhale.
Anger burned through the tiny light, righteous fury twisting into hatred. The darkness did not need to creep closer. Darkness burst from within the tiny light, swallowing the remnants of light in an instant, before joining the larger darkness.
Inhale.
The larger darkness, now fortified by what had once been the tiny light surged against the gentle glow. It devoured the peaceful light, flicker after flicker succumbing to its unrelenting assault. The brighter lights would resist, flickering amidst the onslaught, but they too were extinguished beneath the ceaseless gloom.
Exhale.
Despair. All was night. There was nothing left but sorrow.
Obi-Wan jerked herself awake and out of the vision, head already aching from what she’d seen in the span of a few breaths.
She was lying on a bed, in what looked like a medical facility. The last thing she remembered was collapsing in Aranor Mereel’s forge, so hopefully she was still in Keldabe. She wasn’t restrained, and from what she could sense, there wasn’t anyone guarding the door, though there were several presences nearby, including one on the floor to her left.
She leaned over, only to spot Jango conked out on a bedroll, more deeply asleep than he’d ever been in Sundari or on the run. His mouth was half-open and he was snoring slightly.
Being able to sense everything again…she wanted to laugh from the delight she could feel over her bonds despite and cry from relief at the same time. Her bonds with everyone were flooding her with love and happiness at her continued survival, though that was all she was getting due to the distance.
Master Qui-Gon was closer, but when she reached along their bond, all she felt was a wall. Unfortunate, but unsurprising. It wasn’t healthy to wall yourself away from broken bonds – a lecture all of her crèchemates had received from the mind healers after Bruck had died – but it was sometimes necessary when it was a strong bond and you were mid-mission. Master Qui-Gon probably wouldn’t unblock their bond until he got confirmation of her survival. Whether said confirmation was from when they’d both contacted the Council or whether the Force would lead them to each other had yet to be seen.
It wasn’t something to worry about now though. She was alive, and safe, and could feel the Force. Jango was right there. He’d done his part and protected her. It was time to put herself back together so that she could return the favor.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes again, sinking into meditation. Her shields were a disaster – what had been a solid wall was now flimsi-thin, with holes scattered throughout. Some were mere pinpricks, while the largest holes could have been made by heavy artillery.
Obi-Wan carefully reached out to the Force, letting it flow into her as a trickle, then a stream. She wrapped its power around her, allowing it surge into her shields. The holes shrunk before her metaphorical eyes until there was nothing left. She carefully increased the flow, and the rush of power surrounding her swelled her shields until they were nearly at their pre-confinement levels. They weren’t quite as stable, but that would come with time and regular reinforcement. They were freshly rebuilt, after all. She couldn’t expect them to be fully settled yet.
Once more confident in her own mind, Obi-Wan focused on her body. The pulse of life in her abdomen drew her attention first. She was definitely pregnant, not that she’d really doubted. She couldn’t sense anything wrong – the Force seemed warm and happy when she was focused on her unborn son. It was a boy, she could sense that much, but any more than that wasn’t anything she’d ever been trained for. She’d just have to trust the Force.
She did a cursory check of the rest of her body before reaching out towards Jango. He was still asleep, and, from the calm he was giving off, not dreaming of anything unpleasant. She familiarized herself with his mind, a mix of determination-anger-pride that in a Jedi would have Masters raising eyebrows and suggesting meditation and Mind-Healing, but just felt comfortable in the Mandalorian.
There wasn’t anything Dark about the anger. It wasn’t the cold-simmering-ice that led to hate that she’d felt from Xanatos, or the white-hot-fire that led to violence that she’d known from Bruck. It was a settled anger, with the determination to do right behind it.
She didn’t mind that kind of anger.
Once she was relatively certain of her ability to find Jango within a mile radius (barring beskarMandalorian iron muffling, which, to be fair to herself, was very likely), Obi-Wan allowed herself to come out of her meditation. The room was still empty (besides Jango), but she could feel one of the other presences nearby approaching.
She took a deep breath. She could do this. Everything was fine. She could do this.
The approaching presence was mere meters from the door.
She couldn’t do this.
“Jango!” she hissed. “CyareBeloved.”
Jango jerked awake just before the door opened, and was on his feet between her and the door before whoever opened it could enter.
“Just me, Jango,” the helmetless Mandalorian said, holding his hands up. “Heard Tracinya was finally awake. I wanted to check in.”
Jango looked back at her. Obi-Wan nodded slowly.
Jango moved backwards and took a seat in the chair to Obi-Wan’s left, allowing the medic to approach from the right.
“TrasynaarFirebird, this is Mij Gilamar,” Jango introduced, reaching out to take her hand. “He’s a baar’urmedic.”
“And I know you’re Jango’s wife, Tracinya,” Medic Gilamar said. “I also know that it’s not your original name, because you’re a Jedi Padawan.”
Obi-Wan glanced at Jango.
“I told him,” he soothed, squeezing her hand. “We needed someone to know, since you were suffering psychic backlash.”
“The Mand’alorMandalore and the Ad’alorprince contacted the JetiiseJedi Order on your behalf,” Medic Gilamar said. “I’ve been in contact with Jedi Healer Vokara Che and her apprentice. They’ve been advising me on your care, since no one in the Haat Mando’adeTrue Mandalorians has extensive experience with Force-sensitive individuals.”
Obi-Wan looked back over at Jango, who answered her silent question.
“BuirDad had the comm codes for the High Council from discussions after the mess of Galidraan,” he explained, rubbing the back of her hand soothingly. “We contacted them to ask about treatment for you after backlash. They sent us Healer Che’s comm codes. They would like to speak with you, but not until you’re off bedrest – which is going to be a few more days, but Mij will know better than me.”
Obi-Wan took another deep breath and released her anxieties into the Force as she exhaled. Then she did it again. Bedrest made her twitchy. Her brain equated it with being trapped.
“And what is your current assessment of my health?” she asked.
Medic Gilamar gestured to Jango.
“Do you want him here for this?” he asked.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, tightening her grip on Jango’s hand.
Medic Gilamar nodded, looking unsurprised.
“I apologize for not getting your consent before sharing information about your condition with Healer Che. She assured me that details would not be shared further than herself and her student. They said that they are the main healers responsible for your care?”
“That’s correct, and I consent to sharing medical information with Healer Che and Padawan Elina Chrysolite, as well as with the Jedi High Council if they deem it relevant,” Obi-Wan said.
Medic Gilamar nodded, looking unsurprised. “Healer Che sent over the blanket medical release form you signed, but it technically expired last month, so I wanted to apologize and get consent before sharing further.”
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said. “Your assessment?”
“We can’t do much for the scars on your neck here, but Healer Che’s assessment is that the jetiiseJedi will be able to do more. I will be giving you a lotion to apply to prevent the scars from getting too stiff. The lotion should be applied morning and night,” Medic Gilamar said. “Healer Che recommended three days of bedrest to assist in your recovery from the suppressing collar. She also gave me a list of meditation recommendations to give to you – I’ll get you a ‘pad with them downloaded. You’re low on several vitamins, so we have meal plans and supplements prepared for you in order to get you back to where you should be. Your weight is also lower than I’d like, especially considering your pregnancy, but again, that’s where the meal plan comes in.”
“And what’s your assessment of the baby?” Obi-Wan questioned.
“Also a little low on vitamins, but nothing horribly detrimental,” the medic said. “In general, especially considering where you’ve spent the last few months, everything looks good. You’re about 27 Standard weeks along. I did a basic scan to see if there were any issues, but didn’t find anything that rest and dietary changes won’t fix. I would like one of my fellow medics to do a more in-depth obstetric exam, if you’re up for it.”
Obi-Wan couldn’t quite control her wince. Medic Gilamar obviously caught it.
“It can wait a few days, but I’d prefer no more than a week,” he said. “You’ve already gone this long without medical attention – in terrible conditions, I might add – so I’d like you to have weekly checkups for the rest of your pregnancy, just to be safe.”
Obi-Wan wanted to argue. She’d never been fond of healers, preferring to keep her interactions with even Vokara and Elina to a minimum, but she had a feeling – a feeling! She could sense things again! – that this wasn’t something she’d be able to get out of.
She let out a sigh.
“I defer to your judgment,” she said. “And while I don’t think I’m ready for the exam quite yet, I would like to do it today. To get it over with. I’d rather not stress too much over it.”
Medic Gilamar’s lips quirked slightly in a smile.
“Stress isn’t good for anyone in your condition, but Padawan Chrysolite said you get more stressed when you’re kept completely out of the loop.”
“She’s right,” Obi-Wan admitted. “I have a knack for prescience, so I’ll end up half-knowing things without any context at all, which just makes things worse.”
The medic nodded, looking thoughtful.
“I’m not responsible for any sort of information sharing, but I won’t advise the Mand’alorMandalore and Ad’alorprince to keep you out of things,” Medic Gilamar said. “As for the exam…well, it’s technically the middle of the night-cycle at the moment, so it’ll be a few hours anyway before I get someone better versed in near-human obstetrics and gynecology in here. I’m confident enough in the basics, but I’d prefer a specialist look over you due to the nature of everything.”
“Understood,” Obi-Wan nodded. “Is there anything else?”
“How are you feeling?” Medic Gilamar asked. “Any pain, discomfort? And I do mean any discomfort – including anything you may have been avoiding mentioning before since you and Jango were on the run and couldn’t do anything about it.”
“I’m a bit achy in general,” Obi-Wan admitted. “I’ve had some backaches and leg cramps the past few days as well. I’ve been a bit gassy the last couple days – wait, what day is it? Or night, rather?”
“You slept through the night and an entire day,” Jango spoke up. “The Standard date is 8:23.”
That…wasn’t actually surprising. They’d done a halfway-decent job keeping track of the passage when they were imprisoned and on the run, and every so often Obi-Wan had attempted to convert the Mandalorian calendar date to the Standard date – Mandalorian days were five hours shorter than Standard days, which had provided an interesting math problem to figure out in her head during one of her stints in a birdcage, one she’d kept up with every few days on the run. She apparently hadn’t done too terribly in her calculations. As it turned out, they were only a few days off.
Her extremely long nap was equally unsurprising after how long she’d been in the collar. Her mind and body needed the time to readjust.
“The backaches and leg cramps are completely normal for this stage of your pregnancy,” the medic assured. “I can prescribe you some mild pain relievers to take as needed for the backaches. They’ll work for the leg cramps as well, but try stretching, elevating the leg, and massaging it first. As for the gas…well, it could be because of the changes to your abdomen, but it could also be the baby moving.”
“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, her hand moving to her stomach almost involuntarily. “How do I know if it’s gas or the baby?”
“If it’s constant, it’s the baby,” Medic Gilamar advised. “If it’s sporadic, it’s gas. That’s the general rule, anyway.”
Her baby was moving. Her baby. Even after months of suspecting, she still hadn’t quite wrapped her head around it.
She was going to be a mother.
She took a deep breath in, then exhaled again, giving her anxieties to the Force. She wasn’t alone. She had the Force. She had the Order. She had Jango, and if the Mandalorians were really cooperating with the Jedi, then she also had the full strength of the clan Mereel as well.
“Is there anything else I need to do?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Just eat the food I’ll have delivered, and take all the vitamin supplements,” the medic said. “I’ll see about setting up your examination in a few hours – around 0800 hours. Try to get some more rest after you eat.”
With a quick nod to Jango, the medic left the room and sealed the door behind him.
Obi-Wan felt a tension she didn’t realize she was carrying leave. She and Jango were alone again. She looked over to find him smiling at her.
“Su cuy’gar, trasynaarHello, firebird,” Jango greeted.
“Su cuy’gar, cyareHello, beloved,” she replied.
Jango squeezed her hand before starting to withdraw his, but Obi-Wan tightened her grip. He squeezed her hand again, a comforting weight.
“How are you feeling?” Jango asked.
“Well, I haven’t been locked up or re-collared, so a bit calmer than I was before,” Obi-Wan admitted.
“I swore I wouldn’t let them,” Jango reminded.
“There’s a lot of them and one of you, and you’ve been alone with me for months,” Obi-Wan said. “They could have very easily claimed I had brainwashed you.”
Jango looked at her dubiously.
“TrasynaarFirebird, you look like you weigh forty kilos soaking wet and you aren’t even Core-legal yet. Anyone claiming you brainwashed me would have a hell of a fight on their hands.”
Obi-Wan rolled her eyes.
“It was a legitimate concern! Your people have an extremely reasonable grievance against my people.”
Jango still looked dubious, but didn’t try to argue with her, which was something.
“So where do we go from here?” Obi-Wan asked.
Jango adjusted his position next to her, stretching out as best he could on the chair.
“Well, for the immediate future, we wait for whatever food Mij is going to inflict on us, then we eat and go back to sleep. Come morning, Jaster and Arla are going to be by to help us clarify your backstory so no one asks too many questions once we release the information that we’re married. Cin vhetinNew beginnings will cover a lot, but it’s better to have something in place for anyone who doesn’t respect that to find.”
“I have a few ideas,” Obi-Wan admitted, because she’d thought about this, and it wasn’t like Tracinya Fett was the first fake name she’d ever had. She had several other covers that she could easily rework. One of them would still provide an excuse for why she’d leave for long periods of time in the future.
“I figured you would,” Jango said. “After that, we’ll keep following our meal plans until we’re back in peak condition. The Jetii’alore wantJedi Council wants your report on your mission so far, but they were very insistent on you waiting until after you’re off bedrest. Maybe we can help Jaster fight Kyr’tsadDeath Watch after that.”
“I doubt I’ll be allowed anywhere near the battlefield anytime soon,” Obi-Wan pointed out, gesturing toward her stomach.
Jango shrugged.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t help with battle plans and the like. You’re a better strategist than I am. I’m better with battlefield tactics, not coordinating a war effort.”
“I do have some experience with that,” Obi-Wan admitted, thinking back to Melidaan, and Troiken, and all the battles she’d directed.
The words ‘war prodigy’ had been mentioned more than once, always at times when others didn’t realize she could hear them. Prodigious skill wasn’t uncommon among Jedi, but what did it mean for her that her greatest skill was at war?
She pushed the thought to the side and attempted to re-center herself in the Force, allowing its soothing waves to wash over her and disperse her anxieties once more.
She was more emotional than normal. She absently wondered if that was due to the extended time in the collar, or pregnancy hormones. She’d pose the question to Master Che when she had the opportunity.
“I just woke up,” she pointed out. “I don’t know how I feel about going back to sleep.”
Before she could come up with any other arguments, a yawn forced itself out of her.
Jango chuckled.
“Just because you don’t want to sleep again doesn’t mean your body doesn’t need it,” he pointed out, patting her hand.
“I hate sleeping when I could actually be useful again,” Obi-Wan sighed.
“The best thing you can do is recover,” Jango said, looking slightly rueful. “You can be helpful once you’re in a position physically and mentally to help.”
Obi-Wan knew what that meant.
“You’ve already had this lecture, haven’t you?” she asked.
“’LekYeah,” Jango sighed. “From Jaster, Arla, and Myles.”
“Any word on when you can get your beskar’gamarmor back?” Obi-Wan asked.
“A couple weeks before they let me back onto the training grounds, then probably another week or two after that,” Jango grumbled. “I hate it, but they’re probably right to make me wait that long.”
Obi-Wan squeezed his hand.
“Think about it this way: you’ll at least manage training before they’ll let me out again.”
“That might not be as long as you think,” Jango said. “Sure, you have to recover from everything, but it’s not like they’ve never dealt with yaihadla verdepregnant warriors before. They won’t let you go out, but they won’t ban you from training at all so long as you’re not on bedrest.”
“Oh thank the stars,” Obi-Wan said, relief rushing through her. “I do not do well when I’m not allowed to train at all.”
She wasn’t the only Jedi like that. Some Jedi were happy to spend weeks in the Archives without touching their lightsabers. Obi-Wan had spent too much time in warzones to be willing to risk her skill degrading.
Further conversation was postponed by a knock at the door.
“Come in!” Obi-Wan called.
Medic Gilamar re-entered, followed by a droid carrying two trays of food.
“Try to eat everything, but if you can’t, don’t try to hide it,” the medic instructed. “I’m monitoring your caloric intakes and I don’t want to mess up.”
“Understood,” Obi-Wan said, accepting the tray of food and placing it on her lap.
“Get some sleep afterwards,” the medic advised. “Jate’caraGood night.”
“Jate’caraGood night,” Jango replied as the medic left.
Obi-Wan did her best, but she only made it halfway through the tray before she started nodding off.
Jango moved the tray to the side table and helped her lie back down, though she didn’t think she really needed the help. She was tired, not a complete invalid.
She felt a slight pressure at her hairline as she was drifting off to sleep, accompanied by the words, “Jate’cara, trasynaarGood night, firebird.”