Flash prompt: Obi-Wan is the one that loses a hand to Dooku instead of Anakin
This is Rude, I hope you know that.
(THank you ;) )
Warnings for undetailed descriptions of what happens when you get your hand cut off with a lightsaber.
It had happened so fast that, at first, Obi-Wan hadn’t realized what had happened. Dooku had swung at him, Obi-Wan had moved to block and then―
A burst of pain, and a Force shove that knocked him to the side.
Not glancing down, Obi-Wan rebalanced, gathering up the pain and shoving it aside, to be dealt with later, once Dooku was stopped, once the fight was over. He’d stretched out a hand, meaning to reach for his lightsaber, call it back to his hand and―
Obi-Wan had faltered, eyes landing on the cauterized end of his wrist, attached to nothing but empty air. His hand was gone, cut clean off.
He had blinked, and another wave of pain washed over him, this time almost strong enough to bring him to his knees. Distantly, he heard Dooku’s voice, rumbling in the air like thunder and static.
“You should have accepted my offer when you had the chance. It brings me no joy to kill you.”
There was a flicker of motion, of red, and then Obi-Wan jerked back, lightsaber smacking into his left palm and bursting to life just in time to catch what would have been a killing blow. Not far away, Anakin was pulling himself to his feet, rushing to Obi-Wan’s side, and then―
Padme running to Anakin, throwing her arms around his neck, her fear and love nearly tangible in the Force around them. Obi-Wan had said nothing, just stood there, swaying slightly, and the pain in his wrist had made the edges of his vision spark and blur.
He had closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he was lying on his back. Obi-Wan stared, eyes taking in the white, familiar ceiling with confusion. How had he gotten to the Jedi healers? He had been on Geonosis, hadn’t he? What was going on?
Frowning, Obi-Wan tried to push himself upright. When instead of a hand, a bandaged stub of a wrist met the bed, he cried out, pain flaring up his arm.
Anakin’s voice rang out, too loud in the small space, and then there were hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and back.
“You’re awake! Careful, careful!” Anakin said, helping maneuver Obi-Wan into a sitting position. Obi-Wan stared up at his Padawan, bewildered.
Anakin’s eyes were wide and stricken. “Master, I’m so sorry! Your hand, it was my fault! I should have listened to you, I shouldn’t have rushed in, and now―”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said again, voice quiet. “Anakin, calm down. Deep breaths, Padawan, you’re working yourself into a state.” He waited until Anakin had followed his instructions and the Force had stopped whipping around them like an ocean stirred up by a storm, and then looked down at his ha― at where his hand had been.
“Well,” he said, after a long moment. “That is rather inconvenient, isn’t it? I suppose it is a good thing I was always half decent with jar’kai.”
Anakin frowned and shook his head. “How are you so calm?!” he demanded.
Obi-Wan gave him a tired smile. “It was the will of the Force, Anakin. It was not your fault. My guard should have been better.”
“Not buts. It was not your fault.”
Anakin fell silent for a moment. Then he said, “The healers say you should be able to get a prosthetic. But most of the current models are bantha-shit.”
“Are they?” Obi-Wan asked, distantly. His head felt fuzzy, no doubt whatever medication he had been given was kicking back in.
Anakin nodded. Obi-Wan smiled, and reached up to pat his cheek with his good hand. “I suppose you’ll just have to make me a better one then, hm?”
He had fallen asleep before Anakin could answer.