Darth Vader Goes to Therapy

Relationship Therapy

Obi-Wan had been captured before. He had to admit, though, that this particular event was at the top of the list for weirdest imprisonment he'd ever experienced, or even heard about.

For the most part, he was left alone. No torture, beyond the uncomfortable lighting, and the only questioning he got from the interrogation officer was related to Luke.

"What meals did you feed Mr. Lars?"

"Um. Military rations, I think?"

"Hm. Our therapist deserves better." His voice was incredibly disdainful as he made a note...as though Obi-Wan had just told him the most important, galaxy-shaking secret ever.

"We don't have the same funding–it's the best we could do for anyone, let alone Imperial prisoners." He honestly didn't know why he felt the need to defend the Rebellion–he hadn't even been in charge of nutrition beyond making sure Luke and the Admiral had been fed appropriately, but he was defending all the same.

"All the more reason the Empire is superior. Now, did Mr. Lars get all eight hours of recommended sleep? He looked rather tired when you returned him."

All of the questions were like that, and weirdly, by the end of it, Obi-Wan felt far more judged about how Luke had been treated than he did being a Jedi. But mostly, he was left alone. He knew what happened to captured Jedi–he was aware that Vader probably had worse planned for him. But nothing happened, and with the Force-suppression cuffs on, he couldn't consult the Force to get insight. The silence was almost maddening.

At least, until suddenly he heard a distant boom, and the ship gave a violent shudder. He sat up, alert, wishing he could reach into the Force to figure out what was happening.

But...nothing. Everything was quiet again. He waited for what felt like hours, his mind inventing all sorts of scenarios. Perhaps it was nothing–this was a war, and plenty of people wanted the Executor destroyed, after all, but perhaps it was something...he didn't know, and it made him anxious to not be able to confirm.

But, suddenly, the door whooshed open, and a squad of troopers faced him.

"The Emperor would like a word, Jedi."

Obi-Wan's heart sank. The Emperor was here, and without the Force, he'd had no warning. Had the explosion been the result of an attack ordered by the Emperor? His first concern was Luke's safety, since it was obvious the Emperor was already after him, but then his mind turned to Vader. If he truly meant to protect Luke and defy his master in doing so, his life could also be in danger, too.

And despite everything, Obi-Wan was worried for him, too. If he was being brought before the Emperor, it meant that something had gone horribly wrong, and there was nothing he could do but face his fate.

But as he was escorted from the cell and led down numerous corridors, he only witnessed even stranger behavior. Everyone appeared to be celebrating–there was cheering, outright dancing, shouts of, "For the Empire!" and "For the therapist!" That gave him some hope that Luke was still alive, but that didn't mean he understood. None of his imagined scenarios had included partying Imperials. By the time he reached an office where a droid was organizing what looked like cards, various gift boxes, and flowers onto carts, Obi-Wan was more confused than ever.

"Took you all long enough," the droid told the troopers, "head inside, they're waiting for Mr. Kenobi."

They?

The doors opened, and Kenobi found himself shoved into not a throne room, but a perfectly normal office, where there was not the Emperor, but Vader and Luke tidying up numerous flowers and presents. There were some rather large stuffed ducks in the corner.