12 BBY

Obi-Wan wakes with a start. He sits up on his elbows and takes deep breaths as his dream world slips away and reality sets in. He is on his cot, safe and sound, not in the nightmare that he can never remember when he awakens. His heart rate starts to slow.

It is the same dream every night, Obi-Wan is sure of it. It wakes him early in the morning with a racing heart and an ache in his gut. If only he could remember what it is he is dreaming about, then maybe he could find the root cause and stop it.

He has a theory. If he can remember correctly, the dreams did not start until after he tried contacting Qui-Gon a week ago. It was the first time he has tried since Master Yoda showed him the way. It took seven years until Obi-Wan finally felt ready to face his late Master. After everything that has happened with his ex-padawan, Obi-Wan couldn't face Qui-Gon with his failure.

Master Yoda was the one to reach out and convince Obi-Wan that he needs to. Seven years is long enough to think about something to say.

Unfortunately, when Obi-Wan tried nothing happened. He reached out to Master Yoda again, and he gave him no solution but continue, you must. Obi-Wan continued trying for a week and still, nothing has happened. Nothing but these dreams that is.

So, until Obi-Wan finally breaks through to the other side of the Force, he will be plagued with dreams he cannot remember.

Obi-Wan sighs and swings his legs over the edge of his cot. He can see streaks of sunlight shining through his windows, and the glow of the purple-red sky indicating early morning. There is something different about today, Obi-Wan can sense it, even when he can't quite make out what it is or where it is coming from. Something is shifting within the Force.

He runs his fingers through his shoulder-length hair and scratches his too scruffy beard. Maybe it's time he cut his hair, it's uncivilized to let it grow so unruly. Obi-Wan found a gray hair last week and it taunted him, reminding him that the rest of his years will be spent in solitude and he will die alone.

His senses must be off today, after all, what could possibly change when one lives hidden away from society?

Why bother with the haircut?

—

"You know that I can help you."

"I'm not involving you."

"You're running out of options, Azelynn."

Azelynn sighs and drops her head into her hands. Arrin is right, it has been two weeks of hitting nothing but dead ends. All she needs is a ship to take her to a nearby system, she doesn't really need a pilot, just a ship. The problem is that her only form of currency is a beat-up, old speeder.

"What if I give you something to use as currency? That wouldn't be involving me," Arrin continues, "and you know I have it."

"I couldn't ask that of you." Azelynn only just bought herself out of slavery, using everything she has ever owned to do it. Arrin is short a few parts before he can buy himself out, and it's more than enough to purchase a ship.

"You're not asking. I'm offering."

"Arrin-"

"Fine," Arrin grumbles and gets up from his chair. "I can't sit back and watch you struggle anymore." He puts on his leather jacket and adjusts the collar around the tips of his dark hair.

"Where are you going?"

"To do something I should've done a long time ago." He turns his back to her and maneuvers himself out of the bar.

"Arrin," she calls after him but it's no use. He is already exiting the bar. It takes all of three seconds for her brain to catch up and realize what he is about to go do.

Azelynn is up in an instant and weaving around occupied tables. She bumps into a few chairs on her way and receives glares from people nearby, but she is too distracted to care.

Outside, it doesn't take long for her to spot Arrin in the crowd, he is the only one crazy enough to wear a leather jacket in this heat. It was my fathers, he told her when they met several years ago. They were fourteen, and she was surprised that a large, tough-looking guy is a sentimentalist. The more she got to know him, she learned that appearance isn't everything.

Azelynn has to push through the crowds of people to catch up to him, getting more glares and insults as she does. The heat from the double-suns prickles her exposed skin, but she's used to it after so many years of working in it.

"Arrin," she says when she is close enough. He ignores her, but a break in the crowd gives her a chance to jog up to him and catch his arm. She pulls him aside to avoid the hustle-and-bustle of life and when she looks up at him his dark eyes are staring into her blue ones with one of his rare I'm serious expressions. Arrin is not the type of person to take things seriously, he is the type of person you go to for cheering up, not deep conversation.

But now that he is giving her the look, Azelynn knows he has every intention of following through with what he is thinking.

"You can't," she begins, "I would never forgive myself if you spent the rest of your life as a slave."

"Then let me help in another way," Arrin pleads.

Azelynn bites her lip, it is either let her best friend help or watch him throw his life away. The answer is obvious, but not an easy choice. This is a part of her life she has been trying to shield him from. Arrin has enough of his own problems that he doesn't need to be getting involved with hers again.

"How?" She asks reluctantly.

Azelynn watches his face light up and a grin tug at the corner of his mouth. She's never felt more annoyed and relieved to see it all at once. "Well, let's just say I know a guy."

"You know a guy?" Arrin knows almost everyone here in Mos Eisley as well as Anchorhead where they grew up, so that doesn't exactly clear things up for her.

"Okay, I know of a guy," he corrects.

Azelynn stares at him. "That's it? You know of a guy, how is that suppose to help me? It's no different from what I have already been doing." She feels a new wave of exhaustion take over and has to place a hand on her forehead in the hopes she can push away an oncoming headache.

Arrin shakes his head. "It's not just any guy," Arrin takes her by the arm and moves them to a more secluded section in between the shops. "Look, all I know for sure is that he has a ship."

"And what about not for sure?"

Arrin glances around, looking unsure that he should be saying this in public. Azelynn glances with him and frowns. The nearest set of people are ten feet away, and the noise of everyday life is loud enough to mask their hushed voices. Arrin looks back at Azelynn and begins in a hushed tone, "rumor has it, he fought in the Clone Wars. No one knows why he came here, or why he secludes himself the way he does. Most locals know him as a hermit, or The Cave Man."

Azelynn blinks and shakes her head. "If this is a joke-"

"This isn't a joke," Arrin rushes to amend, placing his hand on her shoulder. "It's all I got, and I really think he could help you."

"Why would you think that?"

"Call it a hunch."

Azelynn closes her eyes to process this. "So, you're sending me to a man no one knows anything about and is nicknamed 'The Cave Man', on a hunch."

"I'm not sending you, I'm coming with you," Arrin corrects. "Do you really think me so reckless to send my friend to a potential sith lord?" He mock punches her shoulder but she holds her ground, only her shoulder moves with the contact.

"That's probably exactly what is happening, but I'm going on my own."

She turns her back on him and walks into the crowd.

Arrin is quick to follow her. "Hold on, you don't even know where to find him, or his real name."

"I'm assuming you won't tell me unless I let you come with."

"You assume right," he replies behind her.

Azelynn keeps walking, but scouts the area for a stall that isn't so busy. It doesn't take long for her to find one and approach the shop-keep.

The woman is older, with thinning gray hair and tanned skin from repeated sun exposure. Chances are good that she is dying from a skin disease, that's how most humans pass on this planet. "Excuse me, would you mind helping me a moment?" Azelynn asks her sweetly, putting on her most innocent face.

The woman examines her, and then Arrin a few paces behind her who has his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his lips. "I want no involvement in your troubles, young lady."

Azelynn plays ignorance. "Oh no no," she giggles, "I'm actually just looking for an old friend of mine." The woman narrows her eyes. Azelynn leans in a bit closer. "I hear most of the locals might know him as The Cave Man."

The woman's face turns gravely, she leans away from Azelynn to look at her. "You best stay away from that man, little miss. There are some bad story's about Ben Kenobi." Her voice rings of nothing but alarm and warning.

Azelynn smirks internally, but outside she smiles and laughs some more. "What, old Ben? Ben wouldn't hurt a mouse." She decides to change the subject quickly, the woman looks ready to have a coronary. "Could you tell me where to find him?"

"North-west of the Jundland Wastes, the outskirts," the woman snaps, "now be gone. I don't need your troubles here." She goes back to fixing up her trinkets, ignoring Azelynns presence.

"Thank you." Azelynn turns around with a proud look on her face and walks past Arrin who appears concerned. If Azelynn wasn't so happy with herself, she would've worried about Arrins sincere disapproval.

She walks back to the bar and goes around back for her speeder. As she threw her leg over the seat, she notices Arrin come up beside her with a tight expression and hands still crossed over his chest. It's starting to irritate her.

"What?" She snaps.

"The edge of the Jundland Wastes, Azel? Really? Do you know how far that is? You might as well be heading to Mos Espa."

"That's a bit extreme--"

"It's far, and in the middle of the wastes. The Tuskens--"

Azelynn cuts him off with an eye roll. "I'll be fine Arrin, stop worrying so much."

Arrin scrubs a hand down his face and sighs deeply. He knows better than to think he could talk Azelynn out of something she is dead-set on doing.

"Just be careful, alright?"

Azelynn grins. "I'm always careful."

"Not your kind of careful, Azel. The normal kind of careful." They both know what Arrin is referring to. Azelynn has never been one to follow the classic rules of careful. Her version of careful is doing something reckless and finding a clever way to get herself out of it. Arrin is no better, but he does play it a bit closer to the chest than she does. Azelynn likes to get into situations that she isn't quite sure she can get out of (despite her constant arguments that she knows she will be fine), and Arrin doesn't put himself in those situations unless he is one-hundred percent sure.

One time they went sledding in the Western Dune Sea, and Azelynn thought it would be fun to explore the parts that everyone claims are dangerous because of quicksand.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun!" She exclaimed to Arrin who watched her walk over to the top of the blocked-off sand dune. Arrin didn't go after her but continued to call her back to him. He could do nothing but watch as Azelynn went sliding down the hill, slowed down towards the middle, and began to sink. Arrin yelled for her, but somehow she managed to jump away from the sand before it made contact with her. She laughed at Arrins concern and pouted when he wouldn't let her use his board.

"Maybe you shouldn't go sledding in quicksand," he scolded her. And then questioned, "certainly you knew you would lose your board?"

"I thought I'd be able to pull it out when I jumped away," she argued petulantly.

Azelynn starts up her speeder with a sigh and gives Arrin a reassuring smile. "When has normal ever suited us?" Arrin gives her a half-smile. "I'll see you for dinner," she says more to reassure him than anything else.

Arrin nods once and watches her drive away until she disappears into the horizon.

When has normal ever suited you? Arrin corrects sadly, yet fondly, in his mind.

—

Obi-Wan felt it throughout the day, that strange twinge in the Force. He tried to reach out to Master Yoda but he received silence on the other end. He even tried Qui-Gon again, but still received nothing. Something is stirring and no amount of meditation and reaching out to the Force can tell him what it is.

That is until it shows up on his doorstep.

He hears the speeder pull up outside. It comes to an abrupt halt and he listens to the footsteps approach his dwelling. Without a second thought, Obi-Wan snatches up his lightsaber, hides it on his person, and steps outside.

That's when he stops, and so does she. Obi-Wan is not prepared for the heavy weight of the Force to push into him the way it does.

The Force absolutely radiates off this girl. It pulses in waves from her to him. Obi-Wan has to throw up his mental shields quickly and harshly to keep from passing out. Does this girl know what she is doing? Does she know that she's projecting snippets of her thoughts: right place—need to know, and he can feel her emotions of anxiety and hesitancy?

If the Force doesn't make her bright enough, then the binary suns certainly do. The rays dance off of her dirty blonde hair and sun-kissed skin like they're attracted only to her. Her hair is half tied up high on her head, and the rest falls down past her shoulders and disappears behind her back. She is dressed like the others in town: plain tunics. Her jaw and cheekbones are sharp, and eyes big and round. Obi-Wan can't see the color from his distance.

He almost feels like he knows her, which is impossible because he would remember someone as beautiful and strong with the Force as her. But even having such a certainty as that doesn't quell how familiar she feels.

"Ben Kenobi?" She speaks in a voice like silk and unwavering confidence—despite the nerves Obi-Wan can still sense.

"Do I know you?" Obi-Wan asks because he needs to know what it is about her.

"No."

"Then who are you?"

The girl smiles nervously. "My name is Azelynn, and I'm told you might be able to help me."

Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows. He's aware of the silly rumors about him throughout the cities, but he never expected them to point another person in his direction for help. Perhaps they don't like her? Think she may be crazy?

"Why?"

She frowns. "Why?"

"Why come to me? I'm just a hermit in a cave." He makes a grand gesture to his dwelling. "There isn't much I could do for you." He decides to play off of the rumors to see how she reacts. It's not every day he talks to someone. Besides, it's the best defense to protect Luke. Seven years of no one showing up, and suddenly a Force sensitive does. That is no coincidence.

"You don't even know what I need yet," she argues in disbelief.

"I know that I can't help you."

She put her hands on her narrow hips. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not a man that has the means to help." Obi-Wan begins to turn around, signaling the end of this conversation.

"You're lying." The girl announces bluntly. Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows and turns to face her again.

"I beg your pardon?" He scoffs.

The girl, Azelynn, dares to look bashful. "Sorry, but I know you're lying." She shrugs it off like it is a known fact.

Obi-Wan has to smirk, a bit of amusement coursing through him. The girl is challenging him. "And how's that? Your source? The rumors around town?" Obi-Wan leans against the threshold of his door and crosses his arms, curious about her answer. He is lying, to an extent. Obi-Wan is curious about how she knows. He knows the answer the second he thinks it, but he needs to hear her say it.

"I feel it," she admits shyly like she's exposing an embarrassing secret. Perhaps she is because Obi-Wan can feel her unease over the answer. Huh, Obi-Wan thinks to himself, perhaps the girl doesn't know she is Force sensitive.

Obi-Wan takes a moment to consider this, absently rubbing a hand through his blond beard. He thinks on his feelings within the Force all day, and then considers the strength he feels within her. He once again reminds himself that this is no coincidence.

The girl appears innocent enough, but then again, looks can be deceiving. Azelynn kicks at the sand with a frown, Obi-Wan feels her irritation at it within the Force.

"Come inside," he finds himself saying, and turns around to lead her inside before he can change his mind.

—

Azelynn stands in the middle of the room glancing around curiously as Obi-Wan makes them tea. It's an oddly comfortable silence... Well, as comfortable as it can be with Azelynn's Force signature running amok.

He refuses to mention it until he knows the intentions of this girl and if she is a danger to himself and Luke. Volunteering that Obi-Wan knows the ways of the Force is too risky for everyone involved, including Azelynn.

"It's very clean in here," Azelynn mentions as Obi-Wan pours the tea, "for a supposed Cave Man." She plops herself down on a chair at his dining table. He brings over the cups and places one down in front of her before taking a seat opposite and instantly losing himself in those large blue eyes. They're hypnotic, and up this close, he can see a light dashing of freckles across her nose and on her forehead. Combine all of this with plush, bright-pink lips and Obi-Wan has to reflect on his training to remain indifferent. She is absolutely stunning, and also young--not that this matters anyway because he is remaining indifferent.

Content with this, Obi-Wan takes a sip of his tea. Azel follows suit and licks her lips afterward, her pink tongue darts out and leaves a faint shine in its wake. By the maker!

Obi-Wan clears his throat, "so, you need my help?" He needs to get to the heart of things; all business before pleasure (not that he intends to get any pleasure here, obviously). The Jedi have taught him to put the situation first, and any personal opinions, thoughts, and feelings aside for a more 'appropriate' time. Indifference.

She wraps both her hands tightly around the cup. He can feel her contentment with it as it helps ease her for her next words. "I need a ship."

"A ship?"

"Yes," she says without elaborating. Her eyes skim past Obi-Wan briefly, looking at something behind him with a frown.

"What for?" He regains her attention.

Azelynn's fingers absently tighten around her cup. "I'm looking for someone."

Sore subject then. "Alright," Obi-Wan sighs. "Why come to me?"

"You know why," she answers with a glare.

"You have a feeling," he confirms. Azelynn says nothing and glances over Obi-Wans shoulder again. This time Obi-Wan frowns at her, it is the same place she just looked. He decides not to mention it, he knows there is no one here except for the two of them so it's nothing of immediate concern.

Obi-Wan leans forward in his seat, glancing at the tendril of hair that's fallen loose from Azelynn's ponytail. "I'm safe to assume you've run out of options, then."

She nods. "I've tried buying, bargaining, trading... and no one is willing enough. They either want more than I can offer, or they want to tag along because it's their ship. And if I manage to get them that far in the conversation, they want to charge extra for being a 'chaperone'." Azelynn air-quotes the last word with venom and then shakes her head in defeat. "I only have so much left. I recently bought myself free from slavery and it cost me everything. I don't even have my own home, I'm staying with a friend."

Obi-Wan watches the girl closely. Frustration is evident in her Force signature, her body says exhaustion and her voice carries a silent plea for help. She is also telling the truth, another thing Obi-Wan is able to feel from her Force.

He needs to think about this. He has a ship, of course, but is he willing to sell it or even lend it out? Not a chance, no matter how honest she is being. He cannot live in hiding on a planet without a possible way to escape it.

So, the only other option is to go with her which is absolutely out of the question. There is not a chance he will leave Luke alone. Sure, he has his aunt and uncle, but Force forbid something happens and the Emperor finds him. It could be catastrophic for the galaxy.

Instead of voicing all this, Obi-Wan says, "can't say I blame them. Ships are pricey, and if they're not willing to sell then they're certainly going to come along--either as a pilot or 'chaperone' as you've said, but even so, how many are that willing to criss-cross the galaxy?" 

Azelynn watches him, and Obi-Wan hates that there is hope in her eyes.

"I can't help you," Obi-Wan tells her.

"You can't or you won't?"

"I won't."

"Why not?" The irritation he feels through the Force is also apparent in her words.

Obi-Wan stands up and pushes in his chair. Azelynn does not move.

"I won't risk my life while you search the galaxy for some lost boyfriend of yours that doesn't want to come home." It's quite an assumption to make, and perhaps a bit harsh, but it's the truth.

Azelynn stands abruptly, chair scraping the floor, and fury burning through her. Obi-Wan worries about the strength of anger she is radiating through the Force. This girl is a loose cannon, it reminds him of someone he once knew. "I'm not searching for some lost boyfriend," she spits the last word, "and I'm asking to purchase a ship, not for you to come with me."

"I cannot let you have my ship," Obi-Wan says in a deadly calm tone. She tries to argue but Obi-Wan cuts her off, "and if no one else will sell to you for what little you have, then would should I?" The Force burns through her, it is difficult for Obi-Wan to ignore the anger and focus on staying calm enough for both of them.

She glances over his shoulder again, the same place, and then nearly snarls, "fine." She glares at him. "I hope you and your ship will be very happy together." She whirls on her heel and leaves with the angry Force following her out.

Obi-Wan sighs. He just lost the only interesting thing that has happened to him in the past seven years. His thoughts race with curiosities. He wonders what that girl would be like if she were raised and trained as a Jedi, would she be able to control those emotions? Would she be strong? With that kind of Force strength, Obi-Wan doesn't doubt it.

But then again, the last person that had a large amount of Force strength and rushing emotions turned to the dark side...

Obi-Wan listens to her speeder roar to life and speed away. He stares at her half-empty teacup, feeling loss, of all things.

He glances behind him, suddenly curious about what the girl could have been looking at. He sees nothing but his cot and frowns. If he focuses hard enough, he can feel the pull of the Force in this direction. He follows it until he stands directly in front of his bed. He closes his eyes and lets the Force pull him to his knees and further down until he is looking beneath his bed.

And he knows.

Under his bed, behind other trinkets and knickknacks Obi-Wan has little use for anymore, lays a wooden box Obi-Wan has not opened for seven years and has no intention of opening in years to come. He reaches his hand out and drags the box forward. It sits in front of him and he stares. This is why the girl kept looking this way. The Force here called to her like it is suddenly calling to Obi-Wan for the first time since he closed it years ago.

He places his hand on top of the box, suddenly wondering if he should open it. He lets the Force make the decision for him and unlatches the hook.

—

Azelynn flattens herself on her bed and stares at the ceiling. At this rate, she will never get off of this planet. She is beginning to hate it for holding her captive. She already hates the sand, and soon enough the double suns and never-ending heat will join the list.

She needs to come up with another plan--a better plan. Harboring the hope that someone would either be generous or stupid enough to sell her a ship for so little was naive of her. It's time to reassess the situation.

Maybe she could stowaway on someone's ship, and jump-off on some unknown planet. She might have better luck finding herself a ship elsewhere. If not, she will stowaway again, and again, until she gets what she needs.

It's a dangerous gamble, but desperate times.

A knock on the door pulls her from her thoughts. She isn't ready to face Arrin, not after the way she confidently turned her back on him earlier.

"Go away," Azelynn grumbles at the door.

"You know I can't do that," Arrin replies matter-of-factly. "Please open the door."

"No," she pouts.

"Azey-"

"Don't Azey me. I said go away." To emphasize her words, she grabs the nearest pillow and throws it at the door, making a successful thump on the door and plop as it hits the floor.

Silence. "Did you just throw your pillow at me?"

"No," Azelynn scoffs, "I threw it at the door."

"That's it, I'm coming in."

"Arrin-" The door is already opening before she could convince him otherwise. Arrin raises his eyebrow at her and then picks up the pillow, throwing it back at her. She deflects and catches it mid-air before it can hit the ground.

Arrin shuts the door and lays down beside her.

"Talk to me," he whispers. "What happened?"

"He won't do it," Azelynn huffs.

"Mm," Arrin hums and places his arms behind his head. "I figured if he couldn't help you, he might point you in the direction of someone who could." Azelynn looks at him and Arrin shrugs. "If he really was in the war, then the man has connections. It wasn't much of a leap to make."

"It's a good assumption, but a wrong one." She looks back at her ceiling. "And we didn't exactly leave on good terms."

"I wouldn't expect any less from you," he smiles. "What was he like?"

Azelynn thinks back to this Ben Kenobi with his long blond hair hanging around his face and brushing his neck, and a scruffy yet maintained beard; those inquisitive blue eyes that carry the weight of the galaxy in them.

"Not a sith lord," she says.

Arrin chortles and wipes his hand across one eyebrow, letting out a phew. "I'm relieved."

"He's fairly young, I didn't expect that."

Arrin shrugs again. "A lot of men from the Clone Wars started at our age. And it's been what? Seven years since the end of it?"

"Mmm," Azelynn hums in agreement.

"So, what's the plan now? I could ask around for you, see if someone knows someone that can help," he offers.

Azelynn was already shaking her head before he could finish talking. "No, you've done enough already. I can figure this out myself."

Arrin stares at her disapprovingly but says nothing. He knows how she can be when her mind is set on something. She is stubborn, and sometimes it is best to just let her be that way. He is glad he got the chance to help, even if it didn't work out.

They lay there in silence for some time. After many years of being close friends, comfortable silence has become an easy way to spend time together. No one has to say a word--they just enjoy one another's presence.

"I should probably go cook up some dinner," Arrin comments when the light outside has faded to a dim red.

Azelynn sighs and gets up with him, "I'll help you."

"You don't have to."

"I want to," she says with a small smile. Ever since Arrin suggested she move in with him, Azelynn has been trying her best to help out around the place. She has no way to pay him to live here, so all she can do is help maintain the place. Arrin has scolded her many times about 'over-compensating', but Azelynn can't help she sometimes feels worthless.

Arrin did suggest that she buy herself free at any cost. Unfortunately, part of that cost was her home. Somehow she managed to save her speeder, but that doesn't exactly provide a roof over her head.

Arrin supported her every step of the way and does what he can to make sure she feels at home. Azelynn does not understand what she did to be lucky enough to have a friend like Arrin Poell Dameron.

"Alright," Arrin says with a smile and leads them downstairs.

The two of them dance around the kitchen as they cook. Arrin thought it would be funny to dust Azelynn in fluffy white flour. Arrin did not find it funny when Azelynn retaliated with Besuaskee seeds. They giggle themselves through dinner, and not so much when they had to clean up the mess they left.

It was a good night. Azelynn couldn't be more thankful for a friend like him. It is a shame that she might not see him again for several years. In the morning, when Arrin leaves to his slave duties in the mines, Azelynn will slip away to one of the local launching ports and sneak onboard a ship with the hopes it will take her to a useful planet.

She knew the second she thought it up it's what she has to do, even if it's not the smartest.

She'll miss him no doubt, and she is scared for what is to come. But she needs to do this, she owes it to her mother to find her. She is out there somewhere, and Azelynn will find her even if it's the last thing she will ever do.