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Obi-Wan acted perfectly during that gala. Smiling when needed to, cheering when asked to, doing small talk with the senators when invited to, and accepting the cocktails they were handing him. Another celebration at the senate.
This particular one celebrated a breakthrough in the war : an entire system taken back from the separatists. It was a huge victory, apparently, but Obi-Wan didn't live it like that. After the battle ended, he was on the field healing as many vode as he could, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough. There was so many clones fallen, many of them didn't even choose a name yet. He knew the Negotiator would be full once he get back onboard, like nothing ever happened. This war was eating him from the inside out.
An unpleasant itching at the back of his throat pulled him out of his thoughts. He coughed discreetly, but the feeling didn't go away. He willed himself to ignore it ; he just had to get through the gala, then he could sleep in his room. He had been off-planet for months now without a break, it was weighting heavily on him.
He went through the night in a daze, and it was Anakin's hand on his shoulder that brought him back to reality. His former Padawan was leading him to the exit, watching his back. Obi-Wan would find it sweet if the other Jedi wasn't so tense, ready for an attack. They were both equally tired.
Anakin gently pushed him into his speeder —Obi-Wan was sure the council didn't approve it— and sat on the driver's seat. "Let's get back home, Master."
"Anakin, maybe I should-" The pilot sighed and cut him off. "Master, I saw you drink. I'm driving."
Nothing would change Anakin's mind now, so Obi-Wan rested his head on the surprisingly comfy headrest and dozed off for the ride.
They arrived without any incident at the Temple, and parted way here. Anakin will spend the night on his ship, with his men ; they've suffered the heaviest losses in the whole army during this battle, he wanted to mourn with them. Obi-Wan craved nothing else but his room in the Temple, so he watched Anakin drive away before heading inside.
The itchiness in his throat was starting to become uncomfortable. It hadn't stopped growing since it appeared. As he walked down the Temple's corridors, the feeling changed from global itchiness to stiffness that made it hard to swallow. Soon he started coughing and leaned against a wall to catch his breath.
His heart was racing, this wasn't normal. What was causing this ? He had a full check-up after the battle, and nothing wrong was reported then. It started during the gala. Was it a poison ? If it was, was he the only one being poisoned ? There was countless poisons that caused paralysis, but they acted almost immediately, not hours after the ingestion.
He tried to swallow, but choked and coughed harshly. His throat was now too paralyzed to work correctly, and he realized with growing horror that the stiffness was spreading along his spine. His neck locked into the position it was in, his shoulders tensed. He clawed at his throat, like it could make a difference.
What was happening ? His neck was cold to the touch, almost smooth, like stone.
Flos Lapideus. The petrifying flower. It changed midichlorians to stone if their concentration was high enough, presumably as a defense mechanism from predators.It only grew on Stewjon, no one knew about it, it wasn't even mentioned in the archives, how could anyone here have learned about it ?
His lungs started to freeze, and he gasped helplessly. He slowly slid down the wall. There was no cure for Flos Lapideus' poison, if someone got scratched by its thorns their only hope was to cut off the skin affected, sometimes even the limb if it was too late. And he swallowed it. His grip tightened on his petrified throat.
Obi-Wan has seen people brew the flower's petals once, when he visited his family. Touching the infusion itself wasn't dangerous, the water diluted the danger of the flower. Non Force-sensitive people could even drink small quantities of it without issues. But, because of his higher midichlorian count, he was forbidden to touch it, or to even go near it.
Dark spots danced in front of his blurry vision. His men were waiting for him. Anakin was expecting him tomorrow. Qui-Gon trusted him. He'll disappoint so many…
Turning to stone wasn't as painful as Obi-Wan thought it would be. He was cold, so very cold, and feeling dizzy, but he wasn't in pain. His desperate gasps slowed down as the petrification progressed through his lungs, until they eventually stopped. His hands fell from his neck.
The last thing he felt before slipping away was his heart slowly stopping and freezing.