━━━━━━ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

begin again ━━━━━━

。＼｜／。

𝐓𝐄𝐍. 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒. 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑.

。／｜＼。

━━━━━▼━━━━━

...CORUSCANT, CORUSCA SECTOR

 "I TRIED TO FIND YOU TODAY."

Her voice was like silver raining down. A presence so calming, he would never know anything else like it.

"The Chancellor is assigning me on a mission to Eshan. I wanted to tell you–I don't think I'll be returning for a long time. And even when I do return to the Temple, it isn't going to be for the same reasons that you'll be there. You're going to train Anakin, and I have such clear faith that you'll steer him in the right direction. I know you have your doubts, and that's alright too, but I just wanted–needed–to tell you that I believe in you. I always have."

Her hand reaches forward and the blue light fades back into shadow.

A hand was shaking him awake.

"Master?" Anakin asked, trying not to laugh. "Did you–did you actually fall asleep?"

Obi-Wan blinked the sleep from tired eyes and sat up straight.  Every bone in his body cried out for more sleep.  "No. Just resting my eyes, there is a difference."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Just don't ever pretend that reading isn't boring in front of me again."

Obi-Wan stood and collected the pile of texts in his arms. Normally, he would put them back in their spots on the shelves, but today he put them neatly on the desk of Jocasta Nu. "Reading isn't boring, Anakin," Obi-wan scolded with a yawn. "You'll never reach your trials if you can't find it in yourself to sit at a desk and open up a text."

"Then I guess you'll be stuck with me forever," Anakin sighed dramatically, looking forward down the hall as they exited the library.

"Funny," Obi-Wan muttered.

His mind was miles away from the conversation, stuck on the one question that had been plaguing him for days, weeks. Where is Wynn?

He had had the dream before. He had her message memorized, burned into the recesses of the mind of his younger self, a thing he had carried with him over the ten years it had been since the day Wynn had left for Eshan.

Her mission was a celebrated success, just like he had known it would be. She had done the impossible and managed to convince her people to change their deeply rooted opinions. After a few long weeks, a ship from Eshan carried the planet's first ambassador all the way to Coruscant, eager and ready to bring forth a new era of democracy.

That hope had since fallen into disarray. Within the shifting multitude of planets threatening to join the growing force of the Separatists, Eshan too was teetering close to the edge. Queen Hallbera was due to join the Senate proceedings herself if it soon came to an undesirable outcome.

So many things had changed over the years. Too many, perhaps.

Wynnetka Adairi was elusive. She visited the temple for brief stints, but brief was a generous word. He could count on two hands the times he had seen her in the last decade.  Their final conversation was five years ago.

"Promise me something," she had said.  Words whispered in his ear as she faded from his embrace.  "Promise you'll stop waiting for me to come back."

It was like she had known it would be five more long years without her.  She had warned him it would be like this, she had told him that it was the way of things, this drifting apart.  He had so much hope and optimism that she would be proven wrong.

But Wynn had been so perfectly right.

In the meantime, Anakin had grown up. There were days when Obi-Wan wondered if Wynn should have taken on the boy and trained him. Their tempers were more evenly matched. There were certain similarities between Qui-Gon and Wynn that Obi-Wan had never shared; a healthy disrespect for the council might have been one of them–a characteristic that was growing on Anakin.

And now, as he walked next to Anakin in the light of another fading day, he just wished Wynn was there. It was stupid, a silly hope that was pure nonsense. There was no way anything could be the same again, and he knew there was no reason to hold on to empty hope. Newly returned from an agonizing border dispute on the mid-rim planet of Ansion, Obi-Wan had discreetly asked around to see if Master Adairi was back in the temple, too.

Everyone he had spoken to said they had no idea where she was.

"So," Anakin began, eyes lighting up. He had been trying to bring up this topic of conversation all day, and Obi-Wan wished he would leave it alone. "I heard from some of the ambassadors that Senator Amidala is supposed to arrive at the Senate chamber tomorrow."

Obi-Wan turned to glance at him. Anakin was looking off into the distance and smiling fondly, a look that Obi-Wan unfortunately knew too well. "Yes, I believe I heard that too."

"Do you think she'll want to say hi to us?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, since we haven't seen her in so long and everything. It would be nice to see her."

Obi-Wan heaved a great sigh. "With any luck, Senator Amidala will have a successful trip and we won't even catch a glimpse of her."

Luck. What a funny little word.

※ ·❆· ※

WYNN leveled her right hand saber. "Yield."

"No!" Her opponent whined.  Her shoulders dropped to accentuate her plea.  "This is so not fair. I'm blindfolded, you can see everything."

"Lose the attitude," Wynn tsked, swiping her green blade through the air. She took a deft, silent step to the side. "This is a good lesson. Sight is not–"

"–as important as sensation itself. Yeah, I know."

"Do you?" Wynn asked, tilting her head to the side. "Try again."

The girl was all awkward gangly limbs not yet sharpened by experience.  She swung with her own green lightsaber and was met by nothing but air as Wynn stepped back once more.

A groan escaped her lips. "This is impossible!"

Silvia, sitting on the staircase with her head propped up in her hands, glanced up from her reading. "Then just yield. I know it's not the Jedi way to give up, but I'd really like to go eat dinner."

"Okay, fine," the Togruta said, taking off the blindfold so her glare was more apparent. "I yield. Happy?"

Wynn just shook her head. "No, not really. Wanted you to land a hit on me."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Not in this lifetime."

Wynn flicked her short white hair over her shoulder. "Have some faith in yourself. These lessons come with time, and you're soon due to be assigned a Master, so you won't have to deal with my unconventional training techniques any longer–"

"I don't understand why you can't just train me!" Ahsoka whined, pointing at her. "I like your unconventional techniques, I really do! You don't have a padawan, you're a full Master, there is literally no kriffing reason why you can't!"

Wynn shared a quick glance with Silvia. "It's a little more complicated than that, Ahsoka."

How do you explain to an almost-padawan that the reason you cannot ever take on a padawan is that you've been spending half of the last ten years searching for a place that doesn't even exist?

"Anyway–" Silvia said, breaking the conversation's tension. A mediator through and through, she placed a gentle hand on Ahsoka's shoulder. "I believe that Li-Mei is waiting for us in the refectory."

"Cool," Ahsoka said good-naturedly, clipping her saber back onto her belt.

In the beginning, each time Wynn came back to the temple Ahsoka managed to seek her out and find her. It was uncanny, and Wynn wasn't convinced that the youngling hadn't broken numerous rules to sneak out of her dormitory after hours. So to save the girl some grief, Wynn made a point to find her first. Wynn had watched Ahsoka Tano grow over the years until the day came when she was whisked off to Illum with her clan to find their kyber crystals.

Wynn was not meant to take up the task of being Ahsoka's Master. That would be Anakin Skywalker's job, something that had surprised Wynn the first time she had foreseen it.  

But then, she was getting used to being surprised. 

While Ahsoka ate her meal with Silvia's young padawan, Li-Mei, Wynn sat close to her friend so their conversation could go on unheard. Over the years, they had grown used to the ebb and flow of a friendship like this. They had gone on missions together, and their stint on Scipio was only the beginning of their tag-team strategy. Wynn went off world way more than Silvia ever did, but Silvia was always her eyes on the ground.

Without Obi-Wan around, Wynn had few other people she trusted anymore.

"Have you heard about Eshan?" Silvia quirked a brow. "Stupid question. 'Course you have."

"Yes, I have," Wynn said quietly, stabbing a fork into a piece of meat.  Carefully about which details she revealed, she said, "Queen Hallbera is due to arrive on Coruscant within the next cycle. It's part of the reason why I returned."

Silvia lifted a glass to her lips. "What's the other part?"

"A vision," Wynn told her cryptically. "That, and the council is desperate to call all of their Masters back to the temple now that the threat of the Separatists is getting a little too close to home."

"So they dragged you all the way back from Lothal," Silvia smirked. "How the hell did they even manage to find you?"

Wynn ran her hand across the table.  "I can see time for what it is. Little threads tend to get tangled and stuck when something is in the wrong spot. I knew it was time to come back here. And Master Nallé had a new assignment, it all worked out perfect."

Ahsoka let out a loud laugh, and Li-Mei accidentally swiped her hand across the table too fast and knocked her water over and onto the floor. Ahsoka only started to laugh harder. Li-Mei gave a sheepish wave over to her Master.

Silvia just shook her head, smiling. "We're focusing on improving her reflexes."

Wynn took another bite, shoveling away her jealousy. "A worthy task, I would imagine."

"I can tell you aren't happy, Wynn," Silvia said suddenly. "I know you never wanted to be a Seer–"

"–which I am not," Wynn felt the need to clarify.

Silvia, used to Wynn's moods, simply rolled her eyes. "You've been on assignments for the Council and Master Nallé for the last decade. They're re-training you, putting you on a path you didn't want to follow. You know, they would still let you take on a padawan. If you wanted."

Wynn glanced over at Ahsoka with a sad, melancholy smile. They had shared this conversation before, and she had derailed it each time in turn. "And what kind of planet would this be if we all got what we wanted?"

Silvia raised a glass in a mock toast. "Cheers to a world like that."

"Cheers," Wynn agreed, drawing her features up into a grin.

She had cultivated this unbreakable persona, a drifter without a care in the galaxy. She had more control than her friend realized, but still. Silvia was right about her loneliness, right about her dissatisfaction.  But the darker truth still remained:

Some fates are too powerful to change.

※ ·❆· ※

"SO the course of action that you'd planned is, how do I say this nicely, farðu í rassgat?" Wynn said.

The blue light of Elja's holo distorted as she shook her delicate head. "For the love of the gods, Wynnetka. This is not funny, and it is not going to shit." She looked upwards. "You make me sound a fool."

Wynn paced the room. It was a borrowed chamber in the senatorial hall, a confined place used for conversing easily with far-off planets. It was amazing how much electricity it took to get a message to Eshan, and long-distance calls to home were not appreciated in the Temple.

"I will do what I can to help you," Wynn told her sister.  The queen's expression remained impassive.  "I made a promise to you."

"You cannot promise me that," Elja shook her head. "It is not that I do not trust you, but I have a waning faith in your Jedi counterparts. An army of the Republic–" she shook her head solemnly "–the Echani people will see it as a declaration of war."

"I cannot imagine that this will be taken well by any of the planets in the Republic. But then, there is the issue of diffusing the Separatists before things can get out of hand.  It is not certain that war is at the end of this road."

Elja just narrowed her eyes. "This is war, Wynnetka. Tyr has seen that the tides of the planet are shifting, and the High Priest knows what this spells for the rest of the galaxy."

Tyr. The Echani god of war. Wynn no longer believed that anything other than the Force controlled the will of the planets, but there were parts of her that were still superstitious. An uncovered prophecy that seemed to be coming true would do that to a person.

"Do not scoff, Wynnetka. What does your Third Sight tell you?" Elja asked, sensing Wynn's skepticism.  

At times like this, it felt as though Elja were the older, wiser one of the two of them. When Wynn had first returned to Eshan, Elja had her restrained and thrown into a cell of the palace's lower levels. It was nothing less than expected, frankly. Sometimes, like now, Wynn still saw that same hostility burning in her sister's silver eyes.

There was still a gap of understanding between the two of them. Their ways of life had diverged too drastically, and Elja still blamed Wynn for abandoning her after the coup that had killed their mother, Queen Freyja, when Wynn was only four.  Their father still had a room in the palace, but in a matriarchal society like Eshan, the crown had passed to Elja once Petr was marked unfit to rule.

Petr Hilmir of House Adairi. The name that Wynn had taken on as her own once she left for the Order. A way to ensure that no one beyond the council ever found out the truth. A way to forge a new life.

"The Force tells me that there is still time to change things," Wynn retorted. "What was that word father used to say? A light that is just dim enough to see? That is what we have right now, just enough room to make a difference in the future."

"Ratiljóst," Elja supplied. "Enough light to navigate." And then in Echani, she said, "Your skills grow dull, sister, and you forget your language. You fight with a dishonorable weapon. You cut your hair, and it appears as though it was done with a dull knife.  A sign that you are better off with the Jedi, perhaps."

"You forget my birthright, and you also forget that what transpired that day was not by my choice," Wynn told her defiantly in their native tongue. She had been waiting for her sister to bring up the hair again. So short, so unlike the tradition.  

"Tell me," she said, and her silver eyes stared straight into Wynn's heart. "If you could go back, would you have chosen to stay here instead?"

To live without the grief of this responsibility? To live without the Order turning her into a pleasant little pawn, a weapon to be sharpened and used? Every choice she had ever made was dependant on this rule of the few and a doctrine millenia old.  

"í hjartslætti." In the beat of a heart.

"Interesting," Elja hummed. "Well, I trust that you'll make good on your promise to help your people. I will contact you within the next few days.  I'm certain the Senate proceedings will give us some clarity."

And in traditional Echani fashion, she was gone without a goodbye.

Wynn scrambled the codes of the communication desk to cover her tracks before heading out of the room. Her head felt muddled and full of cotton, like it did each and every time she spoke to her sister. There was no freedom to speak her mind; whatever she said to her sister might be enough to break off all cordial ties between Eshan and the New Republic.

The Senatorial Chamber was a flurry of activity. Couriers dashed back and forth, the unfortunate messengers of their demanding senators and representatives. At one point, a young man shoulder-checked Wynn because he was moving so quickly.

"My apologies," he said to her. It was the most insincere thing she had ever heard.

The air hung with a different kind of anticipation; a danger that was waiting like a knife in the dark. Something had happened, she could tell by the wary glances people were making out the windows and the stooped posture of those that shuffled past. 

"A shame about Amidala's ship," a Twi'lek muttered to her companion as she walked by.  "Could have been any of us, really."

The man scoffed, adjusting the medallion clipped to his crimson robes.  "Those of us foolish enough to keep our necks out, perhaps."

Before she could piece together an explanation,  Wynn saw someone she hadn't expected to see: Lyranna Aurelia, walking with purpose on the side of the corridor. Her blonde hair was tied back in a braided bun and she wore a Naboo officer's uniform fitted perfectly to her thin, willowy form. She looked so much older than she had the last time Wynn had seen her.

"Lyranna?" Wynn called from across the hall.

Attention caught, the girl pivoted on her heel. In a moment of recognition, relief flooded over the girls face. "Wynnetka Adairi, I don't think I've ever been more glad to see you!"

"What's going on–" Wynn managed, but that was all that got out of her mouth before Lyranna pulled her into a tight hug. Lyranna pulled back with tears in her eyes. Now, Wynn noticed the red, bloody cut to her eyebrow and the traces of soot on her guard's uniform. "What happened?" Wynn asked softly.

Lyranna shook her head. "There was an assassination attempt. Padmé made it out unscathed, but Cordé was lost in the explosion. It happened just after we landed. I tried to minimize the threats, I thought we were in the clear."

"It's not your fault," Wynn reassured her.  It all rushed back, and she remembered hearing about Padmé's scheduled arrival.  "Why don't you just take a moment to breathe?"

"I can't," Lyranna interrupted. Panic and worry twisted her soft features. "The members of your council are already on their way, and we're due to have a meeting with the Chancellor. I already told Padmé I would be quick and I got too turned around to find the room where she's being attended to."

"I'll help you find the room," Wynn said soothingly, guiding her with a light hand on her back. Outside the windows, the thick fog of morning was giving way to patches of sunlight. "You've had a rough morning, you need to give your mind a chance to catch up with your body."

She closed her eyes for a second of clarity. "Right, right, I know you're right."

"Good," Wynn smiled. "Padmé is at the end of this corridor, third room to the left. I'll walk with you and see if I can't be of any help."

"How did you know where she was?" Lyranna asked.

"Jedi secret."

The blonde burst out laughing. "Did I mention that I missed you?"

"I missed you too," Wynn told her. It was true, she missed everything about that mission to Naboo. Every chaotic moment that had transpired, the time before Qui-Gon was killed and everything changed all at once.

※ ·❆· ※

OUTSIDE the window of the elevator, the world of Coruscant was reflecting the gold of the sun. It shifted in hue as the day wore on, but in the late light of the afternoon the city all looked so gleaming and untouched. It hid the grime and the truth under a pearlescent layer of peace.  High above the levels below, it was easier to relax and be at ease.

Anakin, however, was disturbing any semblance of calm as they got closer and closer to the upper floor of the senatorial penthouse. He shifted and shuffled his feet, adjusting his robes and running a hand over his hair for the third time in the last five minutes.

"You seem a little on edge," Obi-Wan remarked.

Caught, Anakin glanced to the side. "Not at all."

"I haven't felt you this tense since we fell into that nest of gundarks," Obi-Wan pressed.

Anakin gave a defensive scoff. "You fell into that nightmare, Master, and I rescued you, remember?"

A carnivorous creature of Vanquor, the experience was unpleasant to remember. Still, Obi-Wan found himself laughing. It was a time when Anakin had proven himself, still so young and unable to see beyond the reach of his hands.

"You're sweating," Obi-Wan said. "Relax. Take a deep breath."

"I haven't seen her in ten years, Master," Anakin said in a reluctant admission.

Obi-Wan just continued to face forward, hands clasped in front of him. With a light shake of his head, he sighed. "A calm demeanor will serve you the best. Relax."

Finally, the elevator slid open to reveal their best friend: Jar Jar Binks.

Internally, Obi-Wan wanted to scream. This situation was continuing to unfold very poorly. Mace Windu had come to him mere hours ago with the proposition of protecting Padmé Amidala at the request of Chancellor Palpatine, who had the nasty habit of sticking his nose into Jedi business. Worst of all, the Council was growing more keen in letting him.

And now they had a Gungan at their service.  A lovely way to round out the afternoon.

"Obi? Obi!" Jar Jar said, reaching out and shaking his hand. "Mesa so smilen to seein yousa!"

"Good to see you again, Jar Jar," Obi-Wan said with a strained smile.

"Senator Padmé," Jar Jar called over his shoulder. They followed him through a blue-carpeted entryway to find Padmé standing and looking out the window. "Mesa Palos here! Lookie, lookie, Senator. Desa Jedi arriven."

Padmé was dressed in a long, deep robe with a headdress typical of a Naboo senator. The woman was flanked by an imposing man with an eyepatch. Captain Gregar Typho, head of Padmé's guard.

Anakin was rooted in the spot and silent as Padmé made her way towards them. Saving his padawan some grief, Obi-Wan said, "It's a great pleasure to see you again."

She shook his hand with a warm grin. "It has been far too long, Master Kenobi." She turned her gaze. "Ani? My goodness, you've grown!"

"So have you," Anakin said, smooth as gravel. Then to make the statement even better, he added, "Grown more beautiful, I mean. Well, f-for a senator, I mean."

Obi-Wan looked out the window, wondering if it might be best to take his chances and jump now.

She gave him an awkward smile in return. "Ani, you'll always be that little boy I knew on Tatooine."

Anakin blinked. This was not the response he had anticipated.

"Our presence here will be invisible, I can assure you," Obi-Wan said to Padmé as she made her way over to the couch.  "I understand you have reservations about the Jedi's involvement."

The side door slid open to reveal Lyranna Aurelia, older and far more sure of herself than the fourteen year old who had been with them on Naboo.  

"Oh, you're here!" she said, far less formal than Padmé. "Master Kenobi, Anakin, it's so nice to see you both again."

"You as well," Obi-Wan told her with a thin smile. It was a decade since Qui-Gon was lost, ten years since things had felt near normalcy. The memories came in waves, but this meeting could very well be the thing that made him drown.

"Queen Jamilia has been informed of your assignment," she told them.  She turned, and the badge on her lapel caught in the sunlight.  "Captain Typho and I are tasked with the senator's security, and the situation is more dangerous than she herself will admit."

"She thinks she doesn't need more security," Typho grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't," Padmé agreed. "I need answers. I want to know who's trying to kill me."

"We are here to protect you, Senator, not to start an investigation," Obi-Wan insisted. His involvement in politics was already drawn out too far.

Lyranna wrinkled her nose. "Really? Because that's not what I heard from–"

Padmé cleared her throat and shook her head, stopping the girl in her tracks. Not the time.

Anakin didn't even notice the near silent exchange. "We will find out who's trying to kill you, Padmé. I promise you."

Obi-Wan leaned forward in disbelief. Anakin's emotions were dark clouds over his judgement. "We will not exceed our mandate, my young Padawan learner," he enunciated.

"I meant that in the interest of protecting her, Master, of course."

"We will not go through this exercise again, Anakin, and you will pay attention to my lead."

Anakin narrowed his eyes in challenge. "Why?"

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. "What?"

"Why else do you think we were assigned to her if not to find the killer? Protection is a job for local security, not Jedi," Anakin said. "It's overkill, Master. Investigation is implied in our mandate."

For the love of god, Obi-Wan thought.  Once again, he wondered what it would be like if Wynn were here with her healthy over-confidence and easy words to placate the situation.  "We will do exactly as the council has instructed. And you will learn your place, young one."

Lyranna cleared her throat as she stood up from the cushioned chair. "Maybe your presence is all it will take," she said, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Yes," Padmé agreed with a delicate motion of her hand. "Then perhaps the mystery surrounding this threat will be revealed. Now if you'll excuse me, I will retire."  With Captain Typho next to her, Padmé crossed the room and exited the chamber.

"Well," Lyranna said to both of them. "I know I'll feel better having you here. Captain Typho has an officer stationed on every floor, and I personally see to the guard of her chamber, but even that might not be enough," she told them, still shaken from the event outside.

"It will be," Obi-Wan reassured her. In the back of his mind, he knew the girl would be far more at ease if it was Wynn who was here instead of him.

"She barely even recognized me," Anakin muttered, eyes still trained on where Padmé was walking out of the room.

"Oh, that isn't true!" Lyranna said amiably. "She's happier than I've seen her in a long time. Especially after earlier, we could all use some friendly faces."

"You're focusing on the negatives, Anakin," Obi-Wan said with a sigh. He shouldn't have berated him in front of Padmé as he had. "She was happy to see us. And you're missing the important part of this mission."

At this point, Anakin's expression drastically changed. All of the sullen mood gone, he was grinning at something over Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"What is it? Anakin, have you been listening to what I'm saying?" Obi Wan sighed. "This is important."

"Sounds like it," a voice mocked, tone lilting with its inner rim accent.

Wynnetka Adairi was walking across the blue carpet with a knowing grin on her pale face. The old scar on her cheek had faded into nothing more than a thin, barely perceptible line, and white hair that once trailed down her back had been cut to just below her chin. It was jagged on the edges, like it had been hacked off in desperation. Everything about her was captivating deviation. Five years collapsed on top of each other, and the time barely mattered anymore.

"I didn't realize the council decided to assign more Jedi to the Senator," Obi-Wan floundered, coming up with the stupidest thing he could have said.

"When did I become just another Jedi?" Wynn asked, raising an eyebrow at his behavior. "And besides, I'm not actually here."

"You aren't?" Anakin asked, stepping in.

"No. I'm..." she trailed off, looking towards Lyranna who was exiting the room with Jar Jar. "I was in the senate chamber just after the explosion happened this morning. I'm only here to ensure that Padmé gets settled. Lyranna did tell me about your assignment; you both have the fun assignment."

"So you aren't staying," Anakin repeated, extremely disappointed.

"Unfortunately, I'm at the council's mercy. Without a Padawan, I go where they need me."

"Of course," was all Anakin thought to say. The entire time, Obi-Wan had yet to do anything but stare at her.

"It isn't all bad to have extra time on one's hands. I've started investigating what happened to Senator Amidala."

"You have?" Anakin said excitedly. "Master Kenobi is convinced that the council doesn't want us to–"

Finally, finally, Obi-Wan interjected. "We are not getting involved beyond our assignment, Anakin."

Wynn crossed her arms across her chest. "If we all did that, nothing would ever get done."

Anakin clapped his hand over his mouth, barely stifling his laugh.

Obi-Wan, snapped out of his trance, narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure you have somewhere else you need to be."

Wynn was extremely hard to startle. She had the unnerving ability to read emotions so well, she knew who was coming around any corner or through any door. But at that moment, she was indeed surprised. No, he thought, she looks extremely hurt.

She recovered, and the look was gone. "I suppose I do.  Anakin," she nodded, making a point of not looking at Obi-Wan as she walked away.  So this is what it has come to.

"See ya," Anakin waved. Once she was out of earshot, he said, "Well, I think that went well."

━━━━━▲━━━━━