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Chapter Text

You had been sparring with Obi-wan for what felt like hours. Qui-Gon and your master were sitting on a bench near the balcony discussing some mission, and to forget about you two, asked you to sparr. Obi-wan was a decent opponent; unlike other padawans, he was too fast for his size. You usually had the upper hand in that area, but not with him.

He was fast and strong, so you understood why your master was constantly asking you to spar him, he was probably the only one you could learn from.

Sweat was already coming down your neck. Your hair, stuck on your robes was wet and heavy, tickling your skin.

Obi-wan, on the other side, seemed at ease.

As you covered another blow, and with the color of your lightsaber illuminating your features, you looked up at him trying to come up with a new strategy.

You kicked his stomach, sending him back to the mat. Using the time to freshen yourself up, you took off your robe, leaving you only an undershirt, your hair flying freely around your shoulders.

“Tie it or something” Obi-wan mutters.

Your head leaned to the side with a grimace, “WHY WOULD I?” Your tone sharp, probably unnecessarily so.

“its—“ he cleared his throat but his tone shrinked, “distracting”

Moving your head sideways, your long hair flew around your body, now reaching past your waist. You knew it was not the Jedi way, but in your nineteenth years of life it was the only thing you took pride in. Especially when it helped to distract your opponent on the mat. “Good” you smirked as you ignited your lightsaber again, standing in front of him in a defensive position.

Chewing on your lower lip, you tried to use the Force to kick him off his feet, but with a sidestep he made you fall forward.

Twirling on your feet, you moved to attack him but before your lightsaber crashed against his, his blue light slashed horizontally towards your neck.

You blocked it near your jaw as a smell reached your nostrils.

You sniffed once. Twice. Still holding your lightsaber vertically.

Your eyes widened in realization.

“KENOBI!” You whined, force pushing him away, kneeling on the spot.

The masters turned your way, both gasping loudly.

Your fingers moved across the floor, trying to gather the hairs as if you could put them back on.

Your hands then flew to the locks still on your head, realizing it was now shoulder length.

Tears were falling off your eyes before you could stop them, rage filling your chest.

Obi-wan walked to you with furrowed brows and regret in his eyes.

“I WILL KILL YOU” you launched at him, throwing him on the mat as you slapped his chest.

He stopped you circling your wrists. “I am sorry” his grey eyes were truthful. “I never meant to”

Two bigger hands scooped you up from your shoulders, Master Jinn’s, you realized as he dropped you off his padawan.

“I think we should call it a day” He solemnly said.

With a deep breath, you bowed at him before hurrying out of the room. Your master quickly behind you, sending an apologetic nod to both men.

“Are you alright?” Qui-Gon asked, the corners of his lips bending uncharacteristically upward.

“Yeah, whatever, she’s just a girl” Obi-wan shrugged.

“A pretty girl” his master corrected.

Obi-wan turned to him, a bewildered look in his eyes.

“Don’t you think?”

The padawan swallowed anxiously, “I have never noticed, honestly”

“really?” Qui-gon began his walk out, Obi-wan following behind. “How odd, considering you have two very apt eyes”

“Do you—” Obi-wan cleared his throat, “do you think she’s pretty?”

Qui-gon scoffed, “She is”

“Do you—uh—like her or—“

A deep laughter left Qui-Gon’s mouth. “She’s a bit too young for me, don’t you think?”

Obi-wan’s face was crimson, “for me as well”

“She is a year younger than you, padawan.” He stated, matter-of-factly.

Against his better judgment, Obi-wan asked, “Master, where are you going with this?”

Qui-Gon scoffed again, looking down on his padawan with a smirk. “If you got your ass kicked by a smaller and younger girl, you are in trouble. But if you got your ass kicked by a girl you find pretty, then I respect that. What’s it going to be, padawan?”

Obi-wan closed his eyes in frustration, “the later, master.”

Qui-Gon smiled. “Good.”

Chapter Text

“You’ve been in there AN HOUR!!” You screamed as you banged the door of the washer.

Obi-wan opened with a smug smirk, half his face smeared with shaving cream. “And it will be an hour more.”

You controlled the impulse of rolling your eyes. “Come on, let me wash my hair real quick.” You asked, voice sweetened.

“Of course, my dear.” He moved from the door, returning his gaze to the mirror and continuing his work.

“Without you inside” you were trying hard not to throw a tantrum.

He turned to see you again, “just do your thing while I do mine. Don’t be shy.”

“Obi-wan!” You stomped one foot on the ground, failing at your previous task. “I will not take a shower with you inside the washroom.”

He scoffed, “well then, you will have to wait till I’m finished.” His hand pulled the razor across his cheek agonizingly slowly.

“FINE” you stormed inside of the washer, grabbing your bag of toiletries and a towel before rushing to leave the ship.

“Where are you going?” He chased after you.

Not until you had left the ship you realized he was only wearing a towel around his hips.

“Master Jinn ordered us to stay on the ship until he returned”

“Since Master Jinn has the un-fortune of knowing you, I’m sure he’ll understand it was impossible for me to remain close to you”

“I can not protect you if you go”

You scoffed, “I happen to be a Jedi as well, thank you very much”

“Where are you even going?”

“I’ll wash myself in the river” you kept your pace.

“The conditioner will mess up the environment” Obi-wan bickered.

You turned to him, huffing, a finger stabbing his chest, “YOUR BITCHING MESSES UP THE ENVIRONMENT”

He scoffed before returning to the ship.

You walked towards the river decisively, discarding your clothes until you reached the underclothes. Leaving your robe in a boulder near the water, you dipped in. It was not very deep, standing it barely reached your waist.

You washed your body first, scrubbing away the sweat and dust clinging to your skin, and then got to your hair.

Ever since the lightsaber incident you had taken a special assignment on its growth. Washing it often enough to avoid greasy scalp but not so often to promote breakage. A routine you had finally mastered… at the Temple. On missions it was another agonizing story, more so when you were sent with Master Jinn and Obi-wan.

They were not trouble, but ever since a royal from Force-knows-where called Obi-wan cute, he had become insufferably fastidious. Every morning, without fail: smoothing his hair, fussing over his cloak, keeping his face meticulously shaved. In your eyes it was absurd.

‘As if anyone would give him the time of day.’ you thought.

You rolled your eyes and dipped your head beneath the river’s surface, rinsing the last of the shampoo from your hair. As you surfaced, hands rising to wipe the water from your face, something seized you.

A sudden force yanked you upward, and instinct spun you toward it, only to find yourself caught in the massive grip of a creature. Its hand, clawed and scaled, wrapped around your torso with crushing strength. Cold blue skin, dripping river water, and two burning red eyes fixed on you with unmistakable hatred.

Your breath caught.

Driven by instinct, you reached for the Force, trying to project calm, but the creature responded with fury. In one swift motion, it slammed you back down into the river, submerging you completely.

You clung to your training, still reaching out through the Force, searching for any flicker of reason or understanding in the monster’s mind. But the current roared in your ears, your vision blurred, and its grip only tightened. Seconds stretched into agony.

Panic began to rise.

Your focus faltered. The practiced calm of a Jedi gave way to survival. You thrashed against the claws, struck out blindly, lungs screaming for air. Water poured in, flooding your chest. Your movements slowed… and then stopped, consciousness slipping into the dark.

When you woke up, Obi-Wan was giving you cardiopulmonary resuscitation, his palms firm against your sternum as water gushed from your mouth in reflexive coughs. The world came back in fragments—sky, breath, sound—and you found yourself leaning weakly on your elbows, gasping as though you'd never drawn air before. Your body trembled with the lingering chill of near-drowning, cold and fear braided tightly into every shiver.

“Are you alright?” Obi-Wan asked softly, his voice steeped in tenderness.

Tears pooled in your eyes, blurring him now too. “Go ahead, make fun of me,” you said, your voice thin and trembling.

He didn’t speak. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you, warm and unshaking. “You’re an idiot,” he murmured into your hair, but there was nothing harsh in it. Just the tremor of fear in his voice.

“Did you kill it?” you asked, sniffling as you tried to collect yourself.

“It didn’t get to that. It ran away when it saw my lightsaber.” His thumbs moved gently across your cheeks, wiping away your tears.

“Good, good. I was the intruder after all.”

“I told you the conditioner would mess with the environment,” he teased, lightening the tension off the moment.

You gave him a half-hearted shove. “Shut up.”

He smiled, and suddenly you weren’t trembling anymore..

“I didn’t even get to the conditioner.”

“I can tell.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, offended at the implication.

He reached for your hair, and your body tensed instinctively, still raw with survival instinct. But his fingers only caught a few strands, revealing them coated in slick, slimy mud.

“Iuck,” you muttered. “Let me just wash it and get it over with.” Shedding the cloak wrapped around your shoulders—Obi-Wan’s, you realized—you stepped toward the river. You bent to rinse your hair, but as the cold water neared your skin, your breath caught. This time, the fear didn’t just ebb—it clawed back to the surface.

Obi-Wan was beside you in an instant, arms wrapping around your shoulders again. “Let me help you,” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and soft.

He guided you gently down to kneel, then sit. Your back was turned to the water now, and he extended his legs so your nape rested against his lap, a living cradle. His fingers were soft and careful, cupping water and guiding it to rinse the mud from your scalp. His signature brushed yours, steady and calming, coaxing your breath into rhythm through the Force.

His hands moved in slow, circular motions—temples, scalp, down to the knotted, heavy ends. Shampoo followed, and with it a kind of tranquility you hadn't expected to find with him.

You opened your eyes, and found his gaze fixed on you, unguarded and impossibly soft. And even if you still thought him the most insufferable boy in the galaxy, you let yourself indulge in the view for just a moment longer.

He conditioned your hair and rinsed it, and deeply you found it endearing that he did it almost as religiously as you.

When he finished, he helped you sit up, and only then did you notice the state of him: pants soaked through, clinging to his legs from where he'd sat in the wet grass without a second thought.

“My apologies,” you said with the brightest innocent smile you could muster.

He waved it off with a casual hand. “It’s alright.”

With his cloak wrapped around your shoulders again, the two of you walked back to the ship in intimate silence.

Qui-Gon stood on the ramp, arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips like he’d been watching longer than he let on.

“Care to share today’s adventure?” he asked.

Obi-Wan was practically yellow with embarrassment.

So, with the boldness of a padawan who’s not speaking to their master, you intervened.

“Obi-Wan helped me wash my hair,” you said, breezing past with your own smirk.

Qui-Gon’s brow arched further, clearly entertained.

Obi-Wan ducked his head as he followed behind you.

“I like her hair,” he muttered under his breath.