Saga Con Dolore (Obi, Ani, and co, Xanatos) ROTS AU Updated 12/29

Title: Con Dolore
Timeframe: End of Secrets of the Jedi, AKA Clone Wars
Characters: Obi-Wan, Anakin, Padme (I'm too lazy to go find an accent every time I type her name), Siri, the rest of the usual folks. Possibly Xanatos. I haven't decided about him yet.
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, romance if you squint.
Summary: What if Obi-Wan had his revenge on Magus at the end of Secrets of the Jedi? How will it affect Anakin's battle with his inner demons?
Note: This'll make more sense if you've read Jude Watson's Secrets of the Jedi. Wonderful book. If you haven't read it yet, go do so immediately. *insert wavy force-summoning hand motions here*
Also, 'Con Dolore' is a musical term meaning basically 'with pain.'


Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to my close pals (hmf. I wish..) Jude Watson and George Lucas.

Another Note:So I originally posted this like three years ago, but was extremely dishappy with where it was going. This time around, I actually planned a plot line (sort of), but I'm not sure how well I'll follow it. If you read the original, the first few chapters are basically the same.
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Prologue
Obi-Wan dropped through the hole that Siri had created in the top of Magus’ ship. He landed on his knees next to her lifeless form. Was it now, or was it twenty years ago? Siri lay on the floor of the cockpit of a crashed ship. Her blond head was pillowed in her arms.

“Oh force,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Siri?”

“Blasterfire.” She groaned as she turned slightly so she could look up at him. “Magus.”

“Padme has him covered. We’re safe for the moment.”

“Everything is so gray.”

“That was such a risky move.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

Obi-Wan’s relief at her sharp tone was erased when she winced, and he saw she was in great pain.

“I’ll get the bacta…”

“Don’t leave me.” Siri’s hand dropped onto his. “I wanted to say-”

“Siri, I must get the med kit-”

“For star’s sake, Obi-Wan, I’m dying. Do you have to interrupt me now?”

Tears sprang to his eyes. “You’re not dying.”

“I can’t… Get it for me.”

Get what? he almost asked, but then he knew. Obi-Wan slipped her warming crystal out of her belt and pressed it into her hand.

“No… Yours.” She let it fall into his palm. “Now I will never leave you.”

“You will never leave me,” he repeated.

A smile graced her lips. She touched his cheek and then her hand fell. “Don’t worry so much.” Then Siri Tachi closed her eyes for the last time and was gone.

“No. Siri. Siri!” Obi-Wan’s throat was raw with grief and a hot, aching pain flowed from it down into his heart, a nail digging into the hole already created by the deaths of his comrades lost in the war. He gathered Siri's body to his chest as if to gather her spirit back into it. “No,” he whispered over and over again. “No.” He gently kissed Siri’s lips for the last time and stood up, laying her softly on the floor.

Rage filled Obi-Wan and he swayed with the force of it. He clenched his fists.

Anger.

Revenge.

He wanted it.

And he would take it.

Con fuoco. With fire.

For Siri.

* * * * * * * *​

Above, in the air, Anakin had been out of his mind with frenzy to find Padme. He had attacked the enemy ships again and again, determined to slip through. ​

​

When he saw that a ship had crashed, his heart became a rock, and it slid up his throat. If Padme was dead… NO! She can’t be dead! I would have felt it. ​

​

And then as he swooped down he saw her, a blaster rifle in her hands and her face upturned to him. His heart returned to its normal place and his airways cleared. Seconds later he held her to him. ​

​

“I’m afraid for Siri,” she whispered. They both looked toward the ruined ship on the trench floor to see Obi-Wan climbing out of a smoking hole in the top. Something in his face, his walk, was different. ​

​

“She has joined the force.” He spoke the words to them but he was looking down at Magus. The bounty hunter was beginning to stir. Taly gripped his blaster tighter. Anakin saw the strain and anguish on his face. ​

​

He wants to shoot. ​

​

For the first time since he had known Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin was afraid for his master. He saw the way he looked at Magus. His eyes were dead, as if there was no living being at his feet, just an empty skin.​

​

Obi-Wan activated his lightsaber. ​

​

Padme looked at Anakin, her eyes wide. Say something, her face pleaded. Stop him. ​

​

But Anakin recognized that there was something here that he could not stop. ​

​

Taly’s breath had caught. Obi-Wan’s didn’t sound so good either. ​

* * * * * * * *​

Obi-Wan felt his breath rasping in his throat. With each step forward, each beat of his heart, he heard Magus. Magus. Magus. Rage pounded in his ears. Dimly, he felt Anakin’s worry and Padme’s fear, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was Magus. Magus. Magus. Magus.

Magus, and the beast he had unleashed.

Obi-Wan crouched down next to the bounty hunter and held the glowing blue blade to his neck. He locked eyes with Magus and detected a flicker of fear. Good, he thought.

“This is for Siri,” he whispered so that only the bounty hunter could hear him. Magus’ eyes went wide. He could sense what was coming. The beast in Obi-Wan’s chest roared with approval. This was the being that had killed Siri, almost killed him, and who had killed Taly’s parents and countless others.

“The lightsaber moved downward, slicing through the tender sinew of Magus’ neck. The separated head moved a few inches down the track, coming to a rest at Taly’s feet, who jumped and stared at it in shock.

The Force froze, lips parted in a silent howl of cold, unending misery.

 

And the Force went still...

Keep going, you have my attention!

 

I think the Force screamed in terror. Nice work. Looking forward to more.

 

When the ultimate Jedi falls off the edge, apocalypse. Im interested. Keep going!

 

So theoretically I would now reply individually to all you wonderful people who read this and reviewed, but I'm socially awkward. So thanks to all you lovely folks for reading.

Yeah.

Anyways.

Sorry this one's short.
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Chapter One
The orange flames rose into the starlit sky, creating a heartbroken circle of dead dreams and lost hope. In the middle of the circle lay Siri's body, every detail of her face visible to Obi-Wan. He had spent hours memorizing that face, tracing every detail with invisible hands. He did so again now, for the last time. Had they made the right decision, all those years ago?

Standing there, on a warm summer night, with one of his best friends in ashes, Obi-Wan looked back.

"There's so many of them," Obi-Wan said to Siri with awe. They were alone in the playroom, having been assigned to clean up. The master had ushered the other younglings out the door, calling that she would be back in a few minutes. Siri and Obi-Wan did not like clean up, and were going to procrastinate as long as possible. Really, the master should have learned from past experience.

Siri agreed wholeheartedly about the stars. "Yeah! Do you believe Master Colin 'bout there being a system for every one?"

"Yup! And I'm gonna be the first one to see them all!" Obi-Wan boasted.

"Nuh-Uh!"

"Uh-Huh!"

"Are not!" Siri crossed her arms. Obi-Wan crossed his.

"Xani said so!"

"He did not! Padawan Xanatos?"

"Yup!" Obi-Wan looked quite proud of himself.

"Humph," replied Siri, apparently deciding that the senior padawan's opinion was to be trusted, and doing a very passable imitation of Master Yoda in the process. She glared for a moment longer, and then uncrossed her arms.

Obi-Wan did too, and they went back to stargazing. "I wish I could fly," Siri said suddenly.

"Me too! I could fly away and be among the stars forever!"

"Yup! And you can come too," Siri added generously.

"Let's go now!"

Excited, the two three-year-olds ran around the room, arms outstretched and flapping and making zooming noises. A space battle was erupting Obi-Wan caught sight of a master striding past the doorway. With a surprised squeak, he attempted to stop only to crash into Siri who was looking behind her. Both younglings flew backwards, Obi-Wan landing in a bucket of mop water and Siri landing in the giant pile of foam blocks.

Obi-Wan tried to get up, only to find out that he couldn't. "I'm stuck!" he wailed.

"I'll help!" Siri scrambled up from the mess of scattered blocks and zoomed over to Obi-Wan. She yanked on his arm, and he sprawled out onto the floor. Siri, however, staggered backwards and crashed into the shelf full of recently-created artwork. It started to tip over. Obi-Wan thrust his hand out, sending all of the power he possessed in his young body towards the goal of balancing the shelf. For a moment success was imminent, before it crashed onto the floor on the other side of the wall, creating a hole to reveal a very aggrieved Master Yoda laying the table for a master and a padawan who both looked quite relieve to escape the diminutive master's notorious cooking.

"Xani!" cried Obi-Wan, scrambling past Siri and attaching himself to the surprised seventeen-year-old's knees.

"Hello Obi-Wan," said Xanatos, prying the sopping wet youngling off of his abused joints and lifting him onto his hip. "Why are you all wet?"

Obi-Wan blushed and said nothing. He peered over Xanatos' shoulder at the senior padawan's master. "Hi Master Jinn," he said brightly.

"Hello little one. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Nope! Siri and I got cleanup- oops." He looked over guiltily at Master Yoda, who was leaning on his stick threateningly. "Sorry?" Obi-Wan offered.

"Humph! Responsible for this clean up, you will be!" he limped away towards the open door.

Xanatos and Qui-Gon's eyes were twinkling, and Obi-Wan bubbled with laughter. Yoda turned and glared for a moment, muttering about younglings, then continued his slow procession towards the doorway, and safety.

Obi-Wan looked to Siri, who looked quite affronted to have been forgotten, then noticed the crèche master standing in the hole to the playroom, one eyebrow raised and hands on her hips. With a squeal, Obi-Wan squirmed out of Xanatos' arms, grabbed Siri by the hand, and pulled her out the doorway that Master Yoda had just left through. Xanatos burst into laughter behind them.

Barely twenty minutes later, when the crèche master arrived at the dorm, Obi-Wan and Siri were fast asleep, hands resting on the floor a few inches apart.

Obi-Wan came back to reality when something wet dripped onto his hand. It was a tear, shining silver in the light from the flames and from the stars. Another leapt to join it as a childhood dream caught fire and shriveled into dust, drifting away with the smoke and the scent of burning flesh.

Yet still a broken heart yearned to sprout wings and fly away.

 

An interesting twist.

When you update could you tag me?

 

A masterful way to end this chapter.

 

but the little Obi and Siri memory was cute and funny.

 

Yeah. It's been a while. I had issues with this chapter. I discovered that Yoda is incredibly hard to keep in character, and I'm still not sure it was accomplished. And it's kind of pitifully short. Anywho. Thank you to the lovely folks who read and those who reviewed. Like I said before, I should reply to you individually, but I'm socially awkward and can never figure out what to say.

Okay. I'm blathering. Ignore me.

Lady_Misty
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Chapter Two
To Obi-Wan's immense relief and gratitude, Siri's funeral was not followed by a barrage of questions of the type Anakin was so fond of. His padawan was silent on the walk back to their quarters. When they arrived, he went straight to bed, only pausing for a small "goodnight master." Obi-Wan, too choked up to speak, simply nodded. He sensed a mixture of hurt, pity, and anger through their bond and sighed.

He knew that Anakin wanted to know what was going on, wanted to ask questions, but any attempts to inquire had been waved off, sometimes accompanied by a half-hearted grunt. Obi-Wan had hardly said a word to his padawan since the mission. He knew that answers were owed, and answers should come, but a soft curtain of blond hair blocked the words from escaping.

In bed that night, for the first time since his knighting, Obi-Wan Kenobi wet his pillow with tears as he cried himself to sleep. There is no emotion, there is peace. Where was his peace now?

* * * * *​

The next day, Obi-Wan and Anakin ate breakfast in silence. It pressed on Obi-Wan's ears, threatening to swallow him up. He knew what it was like to have secrets kept from him, knew what it was like to have a distant master, but the memory of her was too strong. Siri’s death seemed to have unlocked something dark and ugly deep within him. The pain of the loss of Qui-Gon, of Siri, of all the comrades fallen in battle, had escaped from its prison. Memories and shadows of memories floated through his dreams, tormenting him. There is no chaos, there is harmony. His harmony was lost, left in the reactor core of a palace on a beautiful, vicious planet.

Anakin left for classes without his usual whining, perhaps sensing Obi-Wan’s blacker-than-usual mood, or perhaps simply wanting to hide from the web of lies and deceit that appeared to ensnare the entire galaxy.

Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair as the door hissed shut and put his head in his hands. A black veil separated him and the rest of the temple, a black veil spun of murder, passion and secrets.

An old man got to his feet and started for the door. It was time to gather his strength. It was time to tear down the veil.

* * * * *​

He walked in the shadows, hiding his force presence and slowly making his way to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The room had always been his sanctuary, a place of peace when no peace could be found. It had become his room after the Melida-Daan incident, when his world had been crumbling to pieces. His room had helped to keep him sane, living in the here and now instead of reliving past mistakes. Master Yoda had been there sometimes too; he sat in front of a fountain every day to meditate. The softly falling water was a place of rebirth, peace, comfort, and stability. Both Master Yoda and his room had helped Obi-Wan when he was a headstrong, defiant padawan. They would both help them now. Or so he hoped. In these times, it was difficult to know what to think.

Obi-Wan found the small master in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. He sat on a bench with his eyes closed, feet swinging and humming a tune. He felt a flicker of doubt. Master Yoda would understand, wouldn't he? When Obi-Wan knelt before him in the customary show of respect, the diminutive master opened his eyes and fixed Obi-Wan with a knowing stare.

"Master Yoda...I...I need to talk to you."

"Yes. Excepting you I have been." He patted the seat next to him. Obi-Wan sat. Jedi did not refuse suggestions from the Grand Master, even if they would rather stay on their knees. Moving required too much effort. "See that blue flower, do you?"

"Yes Master. It's beautiful." Obi-Wan said dutifully, his voice raspy from lack of use. He struggled to banish the ache in his throat by focusing on the little plant.

The flower was indeed beautiful, to anyone’s eyes and not just to Yoda’s. It was a pure, delicate lavender. Water from the fountain misted its petals, condensing to create crystal droplets which reflected rainbow light onto the stone floor. Yoda gently gestured with a clawed hand, and the flower floated towards them, settling on the tip of an aged finger.

“Yes. Beautiful.” Abruptly, the master clenched his hand into a fist. The flower disappeared.

"A Jusu flower, this called. Extremely beautiful, yet delicate. A simple gesture on my part, and it is gone. Have to go to the work of growing all over again, it will have to." The claws opened and a few crumpled petals drifted to the floor.

Obi-Wan had a sickening feeling he knew where this was going, but he said nothing.

"Yes. A terrible crime on my part, this was. Murder, some might call it. To take a living being's life away is the worst act of all. Who can judge whether worthy to continue the being is? But judge I did. Much like you, hmm?"

"Yes, master." Obi-Wan's voice was calm, but inside he felt sick. His intestines roiled around in his gut and bile rose in his throat.

"Yes. Killed, a bounty hunter was, in revenge I sense. Yet regret and guilt, I also sense. Turned to the dark side, you have not. Saved you have been, by your wayward young apprentice. Both a terrible and a beautiful thing, love is. Fear it, we should, yet need it, we do. A mystery, the galaxy is."

"Yes, master,” Obi-Wan said politely. When he had opened his mouth, he had meant to stop there, but all of a sudden the words were pouring out, unstoppable. “But you can’t possibly know that. I’m not- I mean- I’m tainted. I can feel it, inside. The anger, rage, hurt. It’s always been there, but now it’s stronger. It’s hungry. And I feel it won’t stop until it’s fed. It could be anyone. I could just suddenly… explode. It could be Anakin, or Master Windu, or even you. I’ve tasted the dark side, Master, not once, but three times. Next time, I fear I might not return.”

Yoda tried to interrupt, but Obi-Wan talked over him.

“Really, Master Yoda, you should just send me away. You should have left me in the Agri Corps. I know it was your doing that Qui-Gon was sent to Bandomeer. You’ve always believed in me, and I’ve always been grateful. But your belief is misplaced. I’ve become… dark.” He took a breath to continue, but this time he was stopped.

“Enough!” The syllables were accented, sharp, and accompanied by a blinding pain in the shin.

“Ow! What was that for?!”

“For wallowing in self-pity and doubt that was. Turning into your master, you are. Knock some sense into him on more than one occasion, I had to.”

Obi-Wan smiled at a vision of Yoda chasing his master around and waving his stick. His facial muscles felt oddly stiff. It was perhaps the second time he had smiled, actually smiled, rather than grimaced, since the war had started.

"See?" Yoda said, looking rather pleased with himself. "Smile, you did. Smile, you have not, since perhaps the beginning of the war. Hmp. Now. A mission I have for you. Leave at first light you will. Travelling to Telos, you will be. Valuable resources it has, resources that have been promised to us. Threatened, but never attacked, by Separatist forces, the planet has been. Withdraw their support they may, if reassurance is not offered. A simple mission, yet important. Trust you and your padawan with this, I do.”

"Yes Master Yoda. May the force be with you."

"And with you, young one. Wait one moment." The small master waved his hand, and the petals of the small flower reattached themselves to the stem. The flower was whole once more, and it brought with bit a sense of complete peace. A sense of peace, that, in war time, could not last long, but as Obi-Wan strode from the Room of a Thousand Fountains, he was blissfully unaware of the future.

 

Yoda is hard to write so I feel for you.

Flowers are very beautiful and some can be delicate.

I look forward how this could influence Anakin.

 

Oh, I think that was a perfectly in character Yoda - nice to see an update.