FicWad

Sofas, couches, and especially loveseats are, as they discover that evening, far too small for the kinds of acrobatic and energetic activities that Anakin has in mind.

Floors, however, have the distinct advantage of being unlikely to tip over and bounded only by walls and furniture that can be fairly easily avoided. There are disadvantages, including hardness and danger of carpet-burn, but then, that’s where the cushions off of overturned divans and the apparent favor of the Force tend to come in rather handy.

Chairs and tables, rather embarrassingly, have an unfortunate tendency to either break or to dissolve into the Force as their component atoms at the heights of ecstacy. Anakin assumes it’s his fault, as he tends to grip wildly at the backs of chairs as he’s riding Obi-Wan to completion and to latch on to opposite edges of tabletops to give himself more leverage to curl his body back and push up into Obi-Wan’s downward thrusts so that they’ll be closer together. Obi-Wan isn’t sure why this should make a difference, as they haven’t destroyed any beds yet by either clinging or grasping hold of them, but after they’ve destroyed half a dozen different pieces of furniture he feels guilty enough that he refuses to let Anakin make a deliberate experiment of it.

Walls, happily, stay put where they are irregardless of the strength with which they are shoved into, pounded against, pinned to, or clawed frantically at. They even find out that, with some adjusting, Anakin can wedge himself in between a wall and Obi-Wan, hook his legs up around Obi-Wan’s waist, and cant himself until it’s possible to make love face to face. He screams so loudly when they reach their shared climax that not even Obi-Wan’s mouth over his can muffle the sound, and they both find reason to be glad that their suite is soundproofed.

Counters are such marvelous devices that Anakin swears he will see to it that they have more of them installed in their suite back at the Temple, if they end up staying there for a long enough period of time. They’re just the right height for Anakin to lay back on and spread himself out on, scooting forward until he hangs over the edge just enough to hook his legs up over Obi-Wan’s shoulders and meet each of his thrusts with a powerful pistoning snap up of his own hips. The cabinets beneath the counter tops in both rooms bearing them stand proof against accidental breakage, and the perfection of the height allowed for their joining by using them is such that they are wrapped so closely around one another that the Force takes nothing but them into itself as the endless instant of keenest ecstasy hits.

Still, all in all, the bed and the bath unsurprisingly prove to be the most comfortable and pleasurable of all such places. Obi-Wan prefers the juxtaposition of softness and stability that is the bed while Anakin craves the slipperiness and buoyancy of water. In the end, they find a happy compromise, abandoning all other possible spots to alternate between the comfortably giving dip of the mattress and the slight resistance of scented water heated to the point of steaming. If the Force takes some of the water that they might otherwise have spilled over the edge of the pool-like tub with their rhythmically swelling motions or transfers some of their energy back into the water to keep it ever so pleasantly hot, neither man can spare enough time or attention to notice it. And if their bedding seems to change color slightly and to refine itself to such an impossibly fine texture that even someone attempting to unravel its threads by searching them out with a microscope might be summarily thwarted, they notice nothing but that they remain soft and dry and smooth as silk and slippery as satin, smelling only of the musk of their bodies and the spicy and sweet fragrances carried with them from the scented water.

In everything, the Force is with them. And the Force sings with the reverberations given off from their joinings, bestirring itself to the point almost of sizzling with heat and love, each loving act setting into motion a chain of events that send vast eruptions of what amounts to life-giving, healing energies out into the Force and the galaxy it permeates and binds together. Entire populations of sentient beings on and in the immediate galactic neighborhood of Alderaan find that they suddenly either have more strength and serenity to go about their everyday lives or else sufficient strength to pick up the pieces of their broken lives and make a real go out of creating new ones for themselves, in much the same way as so recently happened on and around Naboo, on a certain route taken to Naboo from the Utapau system, and even on Coruscant itself (not to mention during a brief stint on Chandrila and previously during Obi-Wan and Anakin’s stay on Alderaan). Little by little, by such increments, the Force begins to repair the damage that has been done to the galaxy, not only by the recent civil war but by the decades in which the Sith have been manipulating and scheming and paving the way for that civil war, in hopes of causing enough chaos to create a new Sith Empire from out of the burnt-out ashes of the old Republic. Essentially unavoidably, inextricably bound to life, waxing or waning in overall strength with the overall health and proliferation of or the suffering and dying of the living (especially those sentient beings who are most sensitive to the flows of the Force), the Force best serves itself and its proliferation and increase in strength by supporting the stability and perpetuation of life (especially sentient, Force-sensitive life) in the galaxy. Whether they’re entirely aware of the effect that they are having on the Force or not, Obi-Wan and Anakin continue to bring balance to those who live (knowingly or unknowingly) within the Force’s embrace by giving them strength and hope, and so too they bring a greater balance (if gradually, in a somewhat piecemeal fashion) to the Force and the galaxy itself.

When at last they lay together and bask in a combination of both figurative (emotional) and quite literal (glimmers of fading Force light clinging to their skin and hair like the sheen of sweat that might show on any other couple, after such exertions) afterglow, the spreading ripples in the Force centered on them calm like a fire steadying from a roaring inferno to a regular, even, controlled burn, love spreading its healing power into the Force and warming and reviving all of those with whom it comes into contact through the Force. With the time quickly coming when they will need to rise and ready themselves for the eyes of other beings (some of them those of children), they aren’t able to indulge themselves for very long with the quiet, caressing embrace. The love they feel for one another, though, is not some ephemeral thing that waxes strong only when they are free to touch each other however they might desire, and so when they rise from the nest of soft, scented sheets, blanket, and bedspread to seek out water of a slightly different nature, the (relatively) slow, steady burn of that love continues to cause ripples within the Force – ripples that stir to passionately raging heights and intensity when the two men find themselves throwing their heads back, faces upturned to the hotly pounding spray of water for reasons having nothing to do with a desire for cleanliness, and their suddenly weak legs spilling them down to the slickly wet tiled floor, and their heads thrown back again to the laving stream of water again when an unintentionally provocative pose struck halfway through an attempt to regain his feet prove too inviting to pass on taking advantage of. The ripples gradually lose their magnitude again, as the two eventually find their way out of the shower and (slowly and interrupted by many soft kisses and caresses) find their way into fresh attire, steadying out eventually into what amounts to the equivalent of a constant low-frequency hum, like the background noise of an unsleeping city.

Obi-Wan packs the few remaining small items they’ve brought with them that are not already secured upon the ship that will take the back to Coruscant and calls for a droid to carry it down and see to its stowing while Anakin composes a note “to whom it may concern” regarding the suite’s several pieces of missing furniture, implying without ever quite openly claiming that the various missing objects were sacrificed to certain experiments with the Force that have led to amazing discoveries and the mastery of new abilities that will likely prove instrumental in the success of the New Jedi Bendu Order in the days and years to come. And the Force hums quietly but tellingly along, low rippling waves of renewed purpose and happiness and softly loving glow spreading throughout its life-encircling and pervasive field of energy and warming it, ripples of change extending from the epicenter formed by their presence within the Force like vibrations shivering out along a webbed network of interlocking strings. When Obi-Wan and Anakin finally leave the suite to seek out the twins, strolling along arm in arm until they reach the proper room and need those arms to hold their children, the intensity and flavor of the ripples within the Force change, altering from the love of two partners wholly committed to one another to that of mates utterly loyal to and completely in love with one another beholding (and able to gently touch the delicate baby-fine curls and petal-soft baby skin of) the fruits of their love. The Force shivers and hums and warms with love, utterly selfless and devoted and protective and tinged with a healthy awe of the mysterious, powerful nature of love itself, strong in a different way from the love of two, increasing in power despite what might seem to others a decrease in focus (the immediate recipients of that love having grown from one to three), the ripples flowing from them all as they take Luke and Leia out of their double cradle and head for the kitchens and the shared breakfast that’s been planned, to facilitate the process of saying their farewells, before they will have to board Leaf on the Wind if they wish to make their scheduled departure time.

Love grows again, as their company expands to include first their Padawan and his family and friends and then their own semi-adopted and merit-adoptive extended family, including Mon Mothma, former handmaidens of Padmé Amidala, new handmaids intended for two such former handmaidens, and handmaidens and trusted personnel of the current young Queen of Naboo. The drowsy twins rouse enough to gurgle and coo at a far more chipper looking Winter, whose green eyes drink them in as if she knows she is about to lose her young companions. Obi-Wan trades Luke for Leia with Anakin and then allows Bail to take Leia in plainly worshipful hands so that he can accept Winter from Ob, hoisting the toddler (nearly half again the size of the twins) up in his arms, brushing back strands of her startling ice-white hair and leaning down to place a kiss on the center of her forehead, whispering softly, soothingly, not to grieve, as she will see Luke and Leia again, and carefully reaching out into the Force to touch the flickering bright glow of her young spirit and imparting what strength and serenity he can to one so young, smiling down at her as some of the obviously distressed light leaves her eyes and she calms, peering up at him and raising one chubby hand to touch the side of his face, burbling at him questioningly, as if trying to ask if he’s quite sure about that. Obi-Wan whispers that he’s as sure she will be a part of his children’s lives as he is that her honor-father and their Padawan will be, brushing the pad of his thumb up over her right cheekbone, and Winter squeals happily and reaches to take hold of that thumb, the illusion that she is shaking it as enthusiastically as a businessman sealing a deal might pump the hand of a new customer or fellow entrepreneur so complete that Obi-Wan grins and laughs in abject delight, causing Ob and Sheltay to beam at the sight of him, holding their young daughter and lavishing her with loving laughter, love flowing through the gathering and washing out into the Force like streams flowing out into an ocean.

When the meal is complete, there are many warm handshakes and embraces, and, in a moment when his arms are empty, Obi-Wan is surprised by a veritable avalanche of hugs from Celly, Rouge, and Tia, who all vow (with varying degrees of solemnity and barely suppressed excitement) that they will look out for Winter and do everything they can to help with the plans for Alderaan and the New Jedi Bendu chapterhouse. Looking down on their open, earnest faces, Obi-Wan experiences an odd sense of doubling, for an instant seeing the strong young women they will become, and finds himself moved to return their hugs with an unaccustomed amount of open affection, telling them that he knows that they will and that he trusts them to keep Winter safe and brushing his right hand gently along the crowns of their heads, tucking stray locks of hair back behind their ears and tilting their chins up so that he can drop extremely traditional Alderaanian kisses on their cheeks. Anakin smiles brightly at Obi-Wan over their heads, plainly delighted that he feels able to so openly display his affection for Bail’s half-sisters, and Obi-Wan ducks his head slightly, returning the smile a little bit sheepishly, silently acknowledging his own tendency towards shying away from contact with others and thanking Anakin for helping him try to surpass the years of training that resulted in his standoffishness. Anakin responds by gliding around the knot of girls, places a warm hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, places two fingers of his right hand under Obi-Wan’s chin to raise his head back up, leans in, and brushes a gentle kiss on Obi-Wan’s mouth to (relatively) soft exclamations of gleeful approval (and more than a few cries of, “Aw!”). Even Bail and Mon beam happily at them, though Mon colors prettily and there is a slight air of wistfulness to their Padawan’s favorable smile.

That appears to be a signal of some sort, for over the course of the next twenty minutes or so Obi-Wan and Anakin both are hugged by what seems like virtually every member of Bail’s family (an enormous crowd of smiling, generally dark-eyed and dark-haired men, women, and children) and most of the visitors from Naboo as well (even Dormé, who blushes even darker than Mon but bravely goes on tiptoe to kiss Obi-Wan’s cheeks). By the time they make it to the actual ship, Mon has somehow managed to end up carrying the twins in that double-sling of hers again, both Jedi are slightly rumpled from all of the enthusiastic embraces, and Obi-Wan is flushed and practically floating, his glowing face stamped with endearingly bemused happiness. I had no idea – he begins to say along the bond, as they turn to wave to the watching and waving crowd one last time, before the ship’s hatchway closes.

– that we were so loved? Obi-Wan, a being would either have to be made of stone or else utterly heartless and without conscience, to resist you. And we’re their heroes. All joking aside, we were the media’s darlings, during the Clone Wars; we came home from the war and saved them from Sidious; and now we have a plan to help save them from each other and themselves, too. Of course they love us! They’re rational, feeling beings, and we’ve become their talisman against the darkness. Besides which, most of them already loved you, and not just because their former Crown Prince so patently thought the world of you from the moment he first met you.

Me? But – !

Obi-Wan, only you could fail to notice how people respond to you! You have this – this air of goodwill, you project calmness and safety and understanding and willingness to listen to what other beings have to say, that draws people to you. You so obviously care so much about other people and so little for yourself that they can’t help but respond to you. And you listen to others with the whole of your being. That kind of attention can make a person feel very special.

But I –

Fiercely, Anakin cuts him off, pulling him close to press a fervent kiss to the center of his forehead and swearing, Don’t you /dare say there’s nothing special or important about you! Obi-Wan, I love you, but I swear by the Force that you’re one of the blindest if not the absolute blindest being alive in the whole of the universe, when it comes to knowing your own self worth! You care about others and you’re good with people and they love you for it and /you deserve it. If anything, you deserve it even more because you are so unassuming and modest. I craved the adulation while you simply quietly went about your business and won it with an easy smile. Why do you think the other Jedi were so afraid of you and Qui-Gon was often so harsh with you?

Anakin, don’t be silly! The other Jedi hardly feared me, and Qui-Gon was no firmer with me than he needed to be.

Mynock muffins. The Council Masters were all terrified of you. Yoda especially. And Qui-Gon wanted the approval and vindication that you always garnered so effortlessly. Sometimes I think it was nothing but shame over his own rude actions that finally drove him to take you on as an apprentice. I would bet you anything that it was embarrassment and anger over that shame that drove him to punish you for being a better Jedi than he and sticking it out on Melida/Daan when he was so selfish he abandoned the mission and the world and ran back to Coruscant with Tahl the moment things became dangerous for her and so threatened his own sense of comfort and the way things should be, not any fear that you were untrustworthy. I’ve heard stories about the way other Padawans and younglings and even the Jedi treated you after Melida/Daan – they punished you for being more loyal to the ideals of the Order and to the people you were sent to help than to your short-sighted, self-centered Master. You did something they wouldn’t have had the bravery or the conviction of character to do, and they lashed out at you for making them feel less than you were. You were barely more than a youngling, and you were already a far better Jedi than they, and they knew it and they were jealous and angry and fearful of you because of it. It wasn’t until you saved all of their ungrateful lives by exposing Xanatos’ plot to infiltrate the Temple and seed it with bombs that they really turned around, and again I’d bet you anything that it was shame for their own actions that prompted it. You won a lot of them over, eventually, because you really did care so much about others – including envious, ungrateful Jedi – but the rest were eager to see you fall. They were glad to see you saddled with me. I was an excuse for them to disapprove of you. And yet you never held their actions against them, except for that you became even more protective towards me and even more determined to see me succeed because of their coldness. And others saw that. And they loved you all the more for it. You never stopped believing that someone else would have been a better Master for me, but by the Force you were going to see me Knighted and a respected Master even if it killed you. You took on the blame for anything and everything that ever went wrong around you, and whenever our missions met with success you always sought to place me or our allies front and center for any accolades, though more often than not it was you who made those victories possible by ceaselessly and tirelessly fighting for the safety and happiness of others with no thought spared for yourself. And people have loved you for it and they love you for it still. You’re the patron saint of the masses, Obi-Wan. They would have gladly made you Supreme Chancellor, if you’d given them half a chance.

Great stars! Force forfend! I would make a terrible politician!

Anakin gives Obi-Wan a /look /that eloquently conveys disbelief and derision of his claim. Nonsense. People love you: they’d follow you to hell and back, if you asked them. You’d be the best thing that happened to the galaxy in such a long time that you’d be hard-pressed to keep people from deifying you.

Sharply, with an edge of real worry, Obi-Wan snaps, I have no desire to be deified!

Anakin just smiles, shakes his head, and leans in and kisses him. I know. And they know. Why do you think they love you so much?

The kiss surprises him so much that for several long heartbeats he can’t gather up enough presence of mind to reply. When he finally does, it’s only after the kiss has ended and Anakin has somehow managed to maneuver him into a warm embrace, his head cradled tightly to Anakin’s left shoulder. That makes absolutely no sense!

Something doesn’t have to make sense to be true, especially not where thinking, feeling beings are involved. You taught me that, remember?

I also taught you not to project your own thoughts and emotions onto others!

You also taught me not to avoid the truth just because it’s uncomfortable.

Anakin –

I know this makes you uncomfortable. You’re not used to thinking of yourself and you’re especially not used to thinking of yourself as someone who could be loved by others. But you can’t keep turning away from this. People love you. Bail’s family all adore you and those three girls especially worship you. Most of the population of Naboo would throw themselves between you and a blaster bolt without a heartbeat’s hesitation, even if you had your lightsaber out and ready to deflect it. Mon would cut out her heart for you, if you made any sign of wanting or of needing it. The clone troopers and military personnel who’ve worked with you would attempt and probably manage to do the impossible, if you asked it of them. Force knows they’ve done it already plenty of times. The people on all the different worlds you’ve helped probably still say prayers of thanks in your name, even from as far back as before Melida/Daan. Rational people who get a chance to actually know you respect and admire you and feel privileged to know you. People love you, Bendu, and you can’t keep stopping yourself from seeing it. It hurts others, to love you and know that you don’t notice. Bail throve every time you gave of your attention to him, and I’ve no doubt at all that he’s going to be a living legend, as a Jedi, before he’s through. Mon’s blossomed in the time she’s been on Alderaan because you finally gave her enough of your notice to acknowledge her devotion to you. The storm of storms can come do its damnedest: I trust Mon will help us keep our people safe. I can’t even imagine how much stronger it’s made Padmé and Sabé, to be friends of yours. If not for Sidious, Padmé/ probably would have been well on the way to being elected Supreme Chancellor by now, and I’ve no doubt she would have made representatives from the Colonies all the way out to the Out Rim Territories feel so at home in the Senate with their Core World and Inner Rim counterparts that we’d be in for at least another thousand years of peace and prosperity. Sabé will probably end up eclipsing every ruler Naboo has ever had, before she’s through, and she’ll be a Consul, too, I bet, before all’s said and done. And as for me . . . well, I’d be Darth Vader by now, if not for you, wouldn’t I? People love you, Obi-Wan, and that love makes them stronger when you acknowledge it. You need to stop trying to fight it. People need a reason to hope, someone to look up to and to emulate and to work for or try to help so they can feel as if they’ve made a difference. Love gives us strength because it gives us a purpose that’s so much greater than just our own little selves. I know it’s hard to let go of the ideas you have about yourself, but you need to do it. And you can do it. I’ve seen you do it. You were just you when you held Winter and when you hugged those girls and told them you trusted them. You were just /you – not the person the Order was always trying to make you into or the person the Council Masters and Qui-Gon wanted you to believe you were – and I was so proud of you that I felt as if my heart might burst from joy.

Anakin, I’m not –

– perfect, I know. But you’re a lot closer to it than anybody else I could name – certainly much closer than you give yourself credit for. And you are the Chosen One. The Force knows it. And most people sense it, even if they don’t understand what it is that they’re sensing. They trust you and they crave to be of service to you because of it, and they love you when you prove their devotion has merit and would gladly move whole words for you, if you’d acknowledge that love. Why do you think I keep insisting that you have to be with me, for the HoloNet interviews? The people need to see that you still care about them and that you trust them to do the right thing. And the Grand Masters expect you to take part in the passing of High Justice. Gunray asked for you, specifically, because he trusts in your honor more than he does in Dooku or Qui-Gon. Give the people a reason to forgive the Separatists and a way to heal the fractures and wounds that drove the galaxy to civil war in the first place, and they’ll do more than just love you. They’ll fight to unite the entire known galaxy and more to stand with you against the coming storm.

The reply that comes, after several long moments of shell-shocked silence, is weak and thready with desperation. You’re oversimplifying. And making me more important than I am.

No, love. I’m telling you the truth so you’ll have time to get used to the idea before we get to Coruscant and the Grand Masters call on you to teach you how to administer High Justice.

You must be exaggerating! Or mistaken! I’m not –

But you are. You’re the Chosen One, not me.

He begins another frantic attempt at protest, pushing back against Anakin’s shoulder as if to pull away from his embrace. But you’re the one who –

Anakin, though, promptly slides his arms down around Obi-Wan’s waist, letting him pull away enough to meet his gaze but holding on to him so he can’t try to get away, and cuts him off again, gently but firmly. No, love, I’m really not. People love me for your sake and because I can be charming and charismatic and I happen to be strong enough in the Force that it gives me an edge by making sure I shine with a certain aura or glamour in the eyes of those who can be easily swayed. I’m only their hero, though, because you’ve made me out as one to them and I’ve done everything I can – including several things I shouldn’t have – to try to make myself worthy of that. The people may idolize us together, but they loved you before I ever came along and they’d still love you if I weren’t with you. They love to see us together because they love the romance of it and they can see that we’re good together, but if anything were to ever happen they would follow you, not me.

Obi-Wan tries once more to try to protest, though Anakin gets the sense (in part because of the oddly blank look on his face) that he’s arguing more out of shock and lingering disbelief than any real expectation of winning the point. But –

Quietly indeed and completely seriously, Anakin counters the attempt with, Obi-Wan. You know when I’m lying to you. Am I lying to you, now?

A fine tremor wracks Obi-Wan’s form and his body snaps oddly rigid in Anakin’s arms as his eyes slip tightly shut in an attitude almost of despair, but after several long moments his eyes flutter back open (oddly dark and empty), though he will not quite meet Anakin’s gaze, and a whisper of a reply drifts out along the bond. . . . no . . .

Anakin carefully raises his right hand up and comfortingly strokes the side of Obi-Wan’s face, lovingly caressing his temple and running the pads of his fingers along the sharp jut of his cheekbone until he shudders and relaxes into the touch, leaning into the palm of Anakin’s hand./ Then try to accept./ Please./ For me, if you can’t bring yourself to try for your own sake. Let the people love you and give them strength by accepting that love. Bail and Mon and our friends and family from Naboo aren’t the only ones who need that strength. And I know how happy it makes you, to help others. You were made for this, and I love you for it. Please, don’t fight it any more. Just let the people love you. Smile at them, like you do for Bail’s family and the handmaids and the Naberries. Stand with me during the interviews and give them all some encouraging words. Try not to flinch away or to steel yourself as though against a blow if someone on Coruscant or any of the other worlds we visit reaches out to you or offers you a hand or a hug. Be who you are and listen to them, when they need to talk, and then challenge them to do all that they can and to be the best that they may. You don’t have to let the people deify you – in fact, it’ll be a lot better for them if you don’t – but being who you are and letting yourself be good with people instead of withdrawing into yourself and trying to escape everyone’s notice like you do so much of the time because of the way the Order raised you will let them know that you’re/ human/ love. And they’ll love you all the more for that and listen to you when you speak and believe in you and what you tell them more because of it. They’ll be more likely to band together behind the New Jedi Bendu Order and the New Alliance of the Republic, as we want and need for them to do, if they believe in the leaders and the symbols of both. We’re already the most highly visible symbols of the New Jedi Bendu Order, and we’re the ones who unmasked and defeated Sidious, so in a very real way we’ve made the new government possible. You placed the call to Mon Mothma, to tell her about Sidious. And you defeated General Grievous, so the people are going to see you as the one who ended the war, love. Mon has our approval, as does Bail and his family, and the Grand Masters. Maybe I have been the poster man of the Clone Wars for the old Order, but the people are going to want to see us both – /especially you – in the times to come, especially as more troubles arise, because of Sidious’ legacy. Your specific approval of individuals and of projects like the new chapterhouses and the new laws that the government is going to be passing against slavery and other crimes against sentient rights will help smooth things along. I know you understand that – you may frown and complain about the necessity of giving HoloNet interviews, but you’re also the one who’s been planning things around being able to cultivate the public’s support and even took the time to explain to me why taking advantage of the fascination most sentient beings have with the HoloNet isn’t like using mind trickery to actually make somebody do something. It’s just that you’re just having a hard time connecting the trust of the people with yourself because the Order taught you to doubt yourself and think of yourself as essentially unimportant. That’s not true, though. You are important. The people love you. And they need you. You’re the Chosen One. They’re going to expect and want and need certain things from you. I can help you. But you have to let me. And you have to be willing to try, love.

Obi-Wan is quiet and still for so long that Anakin starts to fear he’s read the signs wrong somehow (though the words came to him without the prompting of recent prior thought on the subject, as they sometimes will when the Force wishes him to speak of something) and brought the subject up too early for Obi-Wan to even try to accept what he’s saying. After several long minutes of silence, though, his shoulders and head slump slightly, and he moves forward a little in the circle of Anakin’s arm, wrapping his own arms around Anakin’s back and clinging to him tightly, hands fisting in the material of his tabard and outermost tunic. I – I will try.

Anakin’s smile is a mixture of abject relief and pure joy, and he laughs a little as he cradles Obi-Wan close, moving to tilt his head up so he can kiss him. Of course you will! And you’ll succeed, too. You’re Bendu Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. And that is why I love you.

The love flowing between them doubles and redoubles until the Force practically vibrates with it, a visible glow cloaking their bodies as they melt together, into the embrace and the kiss, all thought of disagreement and worry and fear banished by the warmth generated between them.

***

The trip to Coruscant is, thankfully, entirely uneventful. The twins spend a great deal of time sleeping, apparently worn out from all the excitement on Alderaan, and Bail, unsurprisingly, spends most of the time resting, too, trying to recover his equilibrium a bit more from all of the emotional ups and downs he’s suffered through lately. Obi-Wan and Anakin spend most of the time either holed up together – Anakin patiently leading Obi-Wan into conversations about when they’re going to hold the interviews they need to have (both with Den Dhur and other HoloNet reporters) and how Obi-Wan might hold himself and what he might say and when it should be alright for him call on Anakin to answer questions without seeming to be trying to avoid talking to the reporters – or visiting with Mon, going over and over plans again and again to make sure they all know what it is that they’re going to be doing and when, since the timing for certain bits of the overall plan are likely going to be crucial to the success (or failure) of the entire plan. Mon seems to grow more and more at ease in Obi-Wan’s company (though she doesn’t quite lose her tendency to blush whenever he compliments her or Anakin indulges himself in any overt sign of affection or familiarity with Obi-Wan’s person, even if it’s something as small as the warm clasp of a hand or a casual arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders), which (thankfully) in turns helps Obi-Wan relax and grow more accustomed to the idea of being able to be more comfortable and at ease in her presence, in a way that he normally isn’t with much of anyone, aside from Anakin and a few choice friends. Anakin finds himself liking her more and more, to the point where he stops trying to occasionally make her blush just because it’s so darn easy to do. Every now and again, though Mon says or does something that reminds him of Padmé and a poignant mix of oddly wistful sadness, hurt, and pleasure over happier memories stirs in his heart. Each time this happens, the nearest of Obi-Wan’s hands automatically moves to squeeze his nearest shoulder or hand, and he finds himself effortlessly falling deeper and deeper into his love for Obi-Wan.

Their actual arrival on Coruscant in oddly subdued (almost anticlimactic, in a way), with two regular nine-person squads of clone troopers on hand to escort the junior Consul safely from the landing pad to her apartment and Mace Windu coming down to meet Obi-Wan and Anakin and provide Bail, the twins, C-3PO, and R2-D2 with a more comfortable form of transportation the rest of the way to the Temple while Anakin and Obi-Wan fly the modified Belbullab-22 Soulful One out of /Leaf on the Wind/’s cargo hold and into one of the Temple’s hangars. The Grand Masters aren’t back yet from their own little trip (something Obi-Wan and Anakin find worrisome, though Mace insists – with a placidness that Anakin has never seen and finds most unnerving and which even Obi-Wan hasn’t seen him exhibit since before his election to the High Council and so finds more than a bit startling – that they probably haven’t made it back yet because they’ve discovered something useful and are still in the process of following through on whatever that might happen to be), but the two Master-Padawan apartments to either side of Obi-Wan and Anakin’s suite have been cleared for their use and prepared for their new occupants (Mace informs them genially that he’ll even get their luggage, such as it is, sent on ahead to their rooms for them), so they agree to meet back up outside a certain hangar, and go their separate ways after making sure that the twins are safely settled into the Temple shuttle, Bail holding a drowsing Leia and Mace carefully carrying Luke (who makes them all smile by gurgling up at the Korun Jedi questioningly, raising a chubby right hand to latch hold of Mace’s nose, and giving it a gentle tug before smiling up at him sweetly, settling back down, and instantly seeming to doze off, having apparently decided that the former Council Master makes a suitable makeshift cradle and pillow).

The endlessly and insanely complex lanes of Coruscant’s constant traffic are seemingly back to normal, but Anakin has lost none of his navigational skill or apparent fearlessness of the myriad other vehicles, and they make it back to the Temple with the confiscated craft in good time. After they’ve regrouped, though, Mace informs them that he has a class of younglings to teach in twenty minutes but is looking forward to that meal and conversation they’ve promised to share and will comm later, after they’ve had a chance to get settled in. He then hands Luke over to Anakin with enough compliments about the boy’s exceptional coordination and strength that it makes him beam at Mace with unabashed pride, and Bail quietly (with an air of such wistfulness that it almost makes Obi-Wan regret having to accept her) hands Leia to Obi-Wan. Mace and Bail trade respectful bows, Obi-Wan and Anakin nodding in Mace’s direction to avoid jostling the twins, and, after that, Mace strides off purposefully in one direction while they proceed to lead the way off down another of the Temple’s many corridors back to their quarters. Bail, who’s shaved off his trademark neatly close-cropped goatee and mustache and easily looks at least a decade younger with his utterly smooth face and somewhat shaggy and overlong (compared to his usual neatly close-cropped style) hair, follows along silently, looking awkward and out of place in his blue-grey Alderaanian uniform. Obi-Wan looks back at him several times as they make their way home, a concerned furrow in his brow growing deeper with each glance, until finally Anakin catches his gaze and shrugs helplessly to remind him that Bail had refused to have any traditional Jedi clothing made for him on Alderaan because he wanted to be able to get them out of the Temple’s common stores.

Luckily, the twins are still quite sleepy, and apparently being in the peaceful stillness of the Temple has a soporific effect on them, because they’re both heavily asleep by the time they reach the set of suites. The apartment directly behind their own has been made up for the twins and Threepio (and apparently also Artoo, who trundles along after them without asking about or being told to follow, and over whom Anakin shrugs and smiles permissively, so obviously happy to have the little guy join them that Obi-Wan can’t find it within him to protest the unorthodox arrangement), while the one off to the right has been made up for Bail. After carefully placing the twins in their double crib and making it quite clear that Threepio and Artoo are to watch over the babies and comm them immediately if anything out of the ordinary should occur, they fetch Bail (who is quietly sitting on the foot of his bed, looking entirely at a loss as to what he should be doing) from his room with a cheerful promise to get him some proper clothes. Bail smiles up at them brightly, the miasma of uncertainty and fearful apprehension that’s been clinging to him ever since the ship made orbit finally fading from him, and regains his feet to follow after them eagerly, clearly thrilled to be doing something that will help him fit in at the Temple better.

After they’ve reached the nearest set of storerooms and sent the wide-eyed clerk currently watching over them away for some privacy, the two Jedi Bendu find themselves waiting patiently while Bail takes over a dozen different possible combinations of Jedi uniforms in various shades of beige, sand, taupe, tan, ecru, off-white, golden cream, chestnut, cinnamon, brown, and dark chocolate into one of the dressing rooms with him to try on, settling down comfortably in two of the chairs provided for Masters waiting on their charges. /Did I try on that many? /Anakin asks silently along the bond, to avoid being overheard and perhaps hurting Bail’s feelings and so upsetting his uncertain emotional equilibrium, frowning a little at the shelves upon shelves of various different articles of clothing in their wide variety of different sizes and colors.

After we actually got back to the Temple and settled in? You tried on even more, I think. I seem to recall having to dissuade you from a longer garment you thought was a tunic and which was actually an overdress . . .

Anakin flushes a little and ducks his head sheepishly. I’d forgotten about that. It was made out of softer material, though, and it was . . .

Obi-Wan tilts his head to the side, questioningly. /Yes? /he finally prompts, after almost a full minute of silence.

Anakin tilts his head down and looks up at Obi-Wan through his eyelashes, smiling up at him with a sense of almost shy tentativeness. It was almost the same color of your skin, Master.

Obi-Wan blinks at him, stunned by the revelation. /Oh, Anakin . . . /he sighs.

Anakin turns his head slightly to the side, his smile growing a little bit wider. I wouldn’t sigh too much, love. I still have the thing, after all.

You still have it? Wait – how could you have gotten hold of it in the first place to ‘still’ have it? Obi-Wan frowns, puzzled.

Anakin grins at him, gives a little shrug, and explains, There was a very nice clerk who used to work here by the name of Liona. She liked me, because I talked to her like she was a real person and not just some lowly clerk, and she felt a little bit sorry for me, too, because I didn’t really fit in here, being too young to be a Padawan and too old to be a youngling. I asked her if I could have it. I told her it reminded me of my mom – and it did, a little, once I found out it was a dress! – and she clucked her tongue and fussed over me and fetched it out herself and said of course I could have it.

And you still have it?

You know that small wooden chest of keepsakes I have that you’ve always scrupulously ignored, even though Jedi aren’t supposed to have any possessions, because pretty much all of my keepsakes are things like shiny rocks, pretty shells, dried leaves, and things like that?

Yes?

It’s the liner for the bottom.

Obi-Wan has to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud and accidentally startling their Padawan. You are a completely incorrigible scamp!

You say that like it’s a bad thing. I have to keep you on your toes somehow, you know! Anakin grins at him until Obi-Wan finally shakes his head and gives in, the bond resounding with shared mirth. Eventually, he sobers enough to ask, Now what were you going to ask me?

It’s about the Nubian starfire adamant that didn’t end up going with Padmé and the larger stone you placed in the Hall of Remembrance with the plaque for Qui-Gon.

. . . okay. And . . . ?

I was wondering if it might not be appropriate to give one to Bail.

Oh. Anakin stares at him a moment, wide-eyed and for once caught entirely off-guard. A slight crease furrows the center of his brow after a few moments, though, as he hesitantly notes, That stone is the color of Master Qui-Gon’s eyes. I wonder if I should have offered to reshape it into two pieces for him and Master Dooku, like you showed me how to do with focusing crystals in case the ones in our lightsabers ever got damaged and there weren’t any new ones on hand to replace them, instead of –

Anakin. They didn’t expect anything from you. The stones were gifts, and they were both thrilled to be given them.

I know. I just – if I’d been thinking –

Love. Don’t do this to yourself. You were thinking. You gave them something that made them feel as if we were welcoming home and accepting them back into our lives with open arms. And the colors of the gems suit them. Their lightsabers are in shades of green, after all, and Qui-Gon has always been partial to growing things. He was forever bringing home seedlings and slips from our missions for the Temple gardens.

Anakin gives him a mulishly stubborn look at first, but Obi-Wan just tilts his head ever so slightly to the side and arches an eyebrow at him, calmly holding his gaze, until finally Anakin sighs and gives in. Sliding down a little in his chair and hunching his shoulders into a slightly petulant-looking slouch, Anakin rolls his eyes, and (somewhat huffily) allows, All right. So I was apparently thinking a little bit better than I thought I was. But if the greener stones actually were appropriate for those two, then I fail to see how the blue stone or the indigo stone is supposed to be fitting for Bail.

Xanatos had blue eyes, Anakin, remember?

Oh? Oh! Were they – ?

They were more like Qui-Gon’s from what I remember. Colder, though. And they looked darker than they were, because of his eyelashes.

That’s right. He had black hair, didn’t he?

Yes. He was . . . exceptionally aesthetically pleasing to look at.

Anakin turns his head around so fast that his neck makes an audible cracking noise. /He was /what/? /he snaps, a sense of something suspiciously like a growl underlying the exclamation.

Obi-Wan winces and unconsciously makes a slight soothing motion (as though to smooth ruffled feathers) with his right hand. Now, now. There’s no reason to take on like that. I was only making an observation – one I seem to recall being somewhat more tame than a certain remark I once overheard you make about him, when you were sorting through some of the old pictures and holos of Xanatos in amongst Qui-Gon’s things and the Temple records.

Anakin has the good grace to blush then, at Obi-Wan’s rather pointed look, though his glower doesn’t completely fade away./ He looked like a /girl, with all that hair and the way he was dressed up and standing! I was just a bit surprised, is all!

Dryly (and wholly without sympathy for Anakin’s rather sulky embarrassment), Obi-Wan points out, /He /was /on an undercover mission when those particular images were captured, as you would have known if you’d bothered to read the text included with the file. /He automatically waits for several heartbeats to allow the gentle rebuke to sink in, while Anakin squirms a little in his seat and gradually loses his baleful glare, before smiling softly and adding, But we seem to be moving away from the point, which is whether or not you might consider making a gift of one of those gemstones – or a part of one – to our Padawan.

I’d been thinking about them and twins, actually, Anakin replies after a moment, pushing himself back upright in his chair, hands folded together thoughtfully as he earnestly meets Obi-Wan’s gaze, continuing by admitting, but they’re going to be very small for several years, and even separated into two pieces the blue stone would be large on them, then. It’s at least as big around as one of Qui-Gon’s hands, if he made a loose fist. The indigo stone is about the size of a handmaiden’s fist, but even that would probably seem large and awkward for a good long while.

So keep the indigo stone, and reshape the blue one into three pieces, one roughly the size of the indigo stone, and the rest into two equally sized parts.

Anakin frowns, confused. But then what will we – ? Oh. Xanatos.

Obi-Wan smiles and nods in agreement. Precisely.

And purple would be right for him because . . . ?

It’s not truly purple, for one thing. Hold it up to the light, and it has shades of your eyes and mine in it, which means it also resembles Luke and Leia’s eyes.

Anakin sits bolt upright at that, his back so rigidly straight that he practically shoves himself up out of the chair. You’re not seriously thinking about giving the training of our children over to that – !

Obi-Wan promptly interrupts him with a firm reminder. Anakin. You know we won’t be able to stay with them as much as we might wish to. There are reparations to be made, on Jabiim and Tatooine, and we will also be going back to war at some point. Bail adores Leia, and he’s coming to love Luke just as much. Who would you rather trust them to, when we must be away?

We don’t even know for sure if we’re going to find Xanatos, much less if there’s going to be enough left of him that he’ll be sane!

Obi-Wan replies with a small shrug, tilting his head to the side in a gesture that’s halfway between an accepting nod and a dismissive motion of disagreement. That’s true. But I believe we shall find him, one way or another and most likely sooner than later, and I trust that the Force will have kept him safe enough during his time in captivity that he will be able to recover from it. I don’t believe the Force would have preserved him, if there wasn’t still some task that he is specifically meant to accomplish. And I think it very likely he is meant to become a Jedi Bendu.

That’s a lot to assume and he’s done nothing to earn such trust! Anakin snaps, his mental voice sounding utterly aghast with Obi-Wan’s trustingness.

Obi-Wan, though, only smiles, a little mysteriously, and crosses his arms over his chest in a familiar gesture, right over left so that his right hand is free to cradle his chin thoughtfully. Oh, but I think he has.

Excuse me?!

There . . . were times he could have hurt me, and did not. He could have killed me in our first encounter, but I honestly believe he meant only to take me with him, and was caught off-guard by first the rapidity with which Qui-Gon realized he was behind what was happening on Bandomeer and then the personal interpretation his guards gave to his hurried order to place me somewhere that I could not be found and from which I could not escape. He went to far too much trouble to tell me, afterwards, of the lengths and the pains to which he went to educate those guards as to their mistake.

And this is the man you wish to trust with our children? Someone who so relished telling you of the torture of others that even now you shudder to remember it?

It was his way of apologizing, of redressing a wrong. He . . . redressed several, in my name. Baftu and the guards responsible for trying to erase my memories, on Phindar, were found dead in their cells; he tracked down the ones responsible for Cerasi’s death and saw to it that they were prosecuted and executed by the united government of the Melida and the Daan elders, and, because he assumed that Tahl’s injuries had caused Qui-Gon to leave me on Melida/Daan, he also hunted down the ones responsible for that and dispatched them; he hated Tahl, blaming her for the pain I suffered on Melida/Daan and in its aftermath, and he specifically chose to use the personal navigation droid assigned to help her learn to compensate for her blindness in his plot to infiltrate the Temple; if Bruck Chun’s carelessness hadn’t gotten him killed, Xanatos would have seen to it himself, and he told me, more than once, that the Jedi deserved to die for their treatment of me, especially after Melida/Daan; and he specifically sought to trap us, on Telos IV, because he wanted his vengeance on Qui-Gon to be complete, and part of that revenge included taking me for his own apprentice.

And none of these things are particularly comforting to me, thank you all the same!

But don’t you see? He wanted me as his apprentice! Doing these things was his way of courting me, of trying to win me away from Qui-Gon.

And I really don’t care what he thought he was doing! He nearly got you killed at least three different times! I can’t believe you’re defending him like this!

He knew I was suppose to be his apprentice. Or isn’t that what we’ve agreed was meant to be the way of things, if Bail had been given to the Temple for training?

Do you think I care? Does this look like the face of a man who’s impressed?

It looks like the face of the man I love, the man who has insisted, more than once, that Xanatos only fell because his Master killed his father and then abandoned him.

That’s only because I was trying to get you to accept the fact that Qui-Gon isn’t perfect! Slatt! You are entirely too trusting, when it comes to that man!

And you seem to be developing a predilection for forgetfulness, as otherwise I’m sure you would recall that I can tell that you’re obfuscating the full extent of the facts whenever you don’t really mean what you’re saying and we speak to one another in this manner.

Ah, fierfek!/ Oh, alright! Have it your way!/ Anakin exclaims after several heartbeats of shocked and consternated silence, throwing up his hands in a gesture of abject disgust. I feel sorry for Xanatos, alright? I think Qui-Gon and the Order messed him up royally and then deliberately screwed him over because he never quite fit in and he was encouraging Qui-Gon’s rebellious side and the High Council really didn’t like that one little bit. But I /don’t trust him. I just /don’t/. I know Padmé thought he’d been watching over you like your own personal guardian spirit, but then I had Qui-Gon watching me like that and I know it didn’t do and wouldn’t have done me a damn bit of good. Rules against interference or not, trapped in his own lightsaber by Sidious or not, if he’d wanted to help, all he would’ve had to do was blinking well /tell somebody who Sidious was. So until I find out why he didn’t do so and unless his excuse strikes me as being one hundred percent satisfactory, I’m going to continue to not trust him, just as I continue to reserve final judgment on Qui-Gon, even if I am glad that he didn’t quite entirely die on Naboo! Alright? Are you happy now?

Obi-Wan sighs quietly in answer to Anakin’s unhappy scowl. This isn’t about whether I’m happy or not, love. This is about whether or not you’re being honest with yourself about your reasons for claiming to distrust Xanatos. He isn’t going to take me from you. I promise you that.

I wasn’t afraid that he would! Anakin instantly, defensively snaps. When Obi-Wan tilts his head down to level a steady challenging gaze on him, he makes a face at Obi-Wan, releases his breath explosively, rolls his eyes, and twitches his shoulders into an angry shrug. Alright then, I’m not afraid of him “courting” you away from me! I don’t care if he’s the most “exceptionally aesthetically pleasing” being in the galaxy to look at: you’re Obi-Wan Kenobi, and you’re about as likely to walk up to some random person out in the markets and kill that being in cold blood, for no reason at all, than you are to be deliberately disloyal to someone you love.

Obi-Wan blinks at him, startled, momentarily phased by the comparison. /I’m not entirely sure as to whether I should be taking that as a compliment or not, /he finally notes, the words coming out a little more slowly than usual as he puzzles his way through to an appropriate reply, but I do know that it doesn’t answer the question as to why the thought of me defending Xanatos – or, Force forfend, finding him attractive – should upset you so.

First of all, if we’re right about whose apprentice Xanatos should have been and who should’ve been taken as apprentice by him, then he should be Bail’s partner. It’s weird enough that Bail should have something of crush on you: I don’t want to think about the headaches that Xanatos feeling at all encouraged to have a crush on you, too, would cause. Secondly, the way you describe Xanatos makes his sound awfully damn inclined towards obsessiveness, to me, and I know myself well enough to know that I wouldn’t react all that well if he started trying to usurp all of your time or to follow you about everywhere because of his obsessiveness. Thirdly, I really doubt Bail would take it all that well if the person who’s supposed to be his partner spent every waking minute of the day trying to seek you out, and our Padawan has enough grief to deal with right now without driving himself crazy trying to figure out which one of you he’s supposed to be feeling jealous of in the first place. Fourthly, Force spirit and enlightened being or not, somehow I doubt that Qui-Gon would be all that thrilled with the idea of his ex-Padawan spending all that much time around you. Fifthly, there’s the problem of Dooku and whether or not he realizes he was supposed to be Xanatos’ Master. If he does, I would think he’d want to spend some time of his own with him and be a bit cranky if Xanatos shunned his company constantly for yours. If he doesn’t know, I’d imagine finding out would be something of a shock, and he’d want to spend even more time with Xanatos. Seventhly, there’s the small matter of the fact that he’ a bit more obviously a criminal, in the public’s mind, than even Dooku was, with no easily understandable reason for people to excuse his crimes, and I really don’t want you or the twins endangered by association with him! Eighthly –

Obi-Wan cuts him off to dryly note, But endangering Bail and the Grand Masters or at least Dooku with his presence doesn’t bother you?

Anakin shoots him a baleful look./ The Grand Masters aren’t my infant children and Bail isn’t the man I’m in love with. The first can take well of themselves, and, if what we suspect is true, we won’t be able to keep Bail and Xanatos apart even if we might want to, so letting Bail bring all of his political and legal savvy to work for Xanatos is probably the best thing we can do for him. If anyone can figure out a way to salvage Xanatos’ reputation, it’s Bail. And before you tell me that I’m worrying too much about this, just let me note that somebody has to worry about it, since you seem capable of worrying about everything under the stars /except Force spirts or Force ghosts of people you knew once, and I don’t for a moment think it’s safe to assume we can blindly trust them, no matter who they were while living!

Obi-Wan throws up his own hands at that and, somewhat acerbically, notes, And here I was under the impression that you believed I worried too much!

You do worry too much! You just also worry about the wrong things, sometimes, too! Anakin instantly and rather stridently snaps back.

Obi-Wan sighs and pinches at the bridge of his nose, clearly beginning to regret bringing up the subject in the first place. Anakin –

Look. You believe what you want to about this, and I’ll believe what I think is right, and we’ll both give Xanatos a fair chance to prove both of us wrong if/ we actually find him and if there turns out to be enough of him left, after being trapped in his own lightsaber or whatever Sidious may’ve used as a prison for him for however long he’s been imprisoned, to even form a functional Force ghost or spirit or whatever, alright? Fair enough?/ Anakin interjects, looking almost as unhappy with the way their conversation’s turned as Obi-Wan. I really don’t want to fight about this right now. There’s too many other things that need doing or worrying about now to spend all our time worrying about something we can’t do anything about until we actually locate the person in question.

That’s true enough. ‘Until the possible becomes actual – ’

It’s ‘only a distraction,’ yes, exactly.

Alright. We’ll return to the matter at a more appropriate time, then. That still leaves the issue of the gemstones, though, Obi-Wan reminds him.

Anakin promptly shakes his head and shrugs, though. Not really. I like your suggestion. I think reshaping the blue stone into three pieces would be the best solution.

Then you’ll do it? Obi-Wan asks, looking up at him with a hopeful smile.

Anakin nods his head firmly. Yes.

Obi-Wan’s smile is a mixture of unabashed pleasure and pride in Anakin, and he reaches out and takes Anakin’s right hand, squeezing gently. I love you, Anakin Skywalker.

And I love you, Anakin smiles back at him (a certain measure of relief over the decision to let the other matter drop, at least for a time, mixed in with his own happiness at Obi-Wan’s declaration), turning to lean across the arms of their side-by-side chairs to gently stroke Obi-Wan’s cheek with the backs of his fingers, sliding them down under his chin and turning his hand slightly to tilt his head up so that Anakin can brush his smiling lips with his, kissing him lightly.

A few moments or a lifetime of simple joy later, they both settle back in their chairs, leaning in towards each other unabashedly, shoulders rubbing together and hands firmly laced, quietly, serenely happy and wholly prepared to wait for however long it might take their Padawan to emerge with his choices, content in the knowledge that they have a plan, now, to help him feel more at home.

***