#that last line shows up in anakin's wedding vows

[tennessoui]

for obikin, maybe pretending to hate each other au? (sth where their ages are a little closer, perhaps, so obi-wan can be intensely petty and not feel the need to Set an Example)

45. (Pretending To) Hate Each Other (raised as Sith!Anakin, salty!Padawan Obi-Wan)(1.6k)

Obi-Wan turns away from the training stalles with a barely suppressed sneer. Anakin, as he is to be called, has defeated his opponents. His fellow Padawans. Darth Vader has become a Padawan and everyone is just fine with it.

Obi-Wan marches out into the halls, not knowing where he’s going, but knowing he must get away from the smirk on Anakin’s face as he had lowered his training saber to his opponent’s neck. Does no one but Obi-Wan remember how just months ago Vader’s saber had been pressed against his neck and it hadn’t been a training exercise? Does no one remember the atrocities Anakin had committed, the sentients Anakin had killed?

And yet Obi-Wan’s master seems infinitely fascinated by the boy. And yet Obi-Wan, it seems, cannot step out of his own room without finding this Anakin underfoot, either taking tea with his Master, or dolefully skulking around the doorway of Obi-Wan’s quarters. What draws the boy, he has no lasting idea.

They’re approximately the same age, he supposes, although Obi-Wan has a few years at least on Anakin--it’s clearer to see now that Anakin has stopped wearing his helmet and armor into battle, now that the lines of his face are not hardened by scowls and snarls. Really, he’s a boy. His medical chart puts him at eighteen, making him four years Obi-Wan’s junior.

And, he supposes, Qui-Gon was the one to find Anakin wounded on the battlefield, the one to insist they treat the Sith, heal him, and give him shelter. But Obi-Wan was the one who had found the slave chip embedded between his ribcage, the one who had alerted the Council to its presence, so it could be used to find the boy’s master, to capture him or kill him, to end the war.

But surely, whatever small part Obi-Wan had played in the war’s conclusion, the Force should have known better than to repay him by gifting him with the care and keeping of a Sith Lord, Chosen One or not.

Although Obi-Wan can admit, even if only to himself, that it’s worse when Vader latches onto anyone else in the Temple. His master is too starry-eyed by his ideas of Vader’s midichlorians, his destiny as the Chosen One, to see the boy in front of him now.

And anyone younger than Vader is too easily swayed by his looks, his charm, his disgustingly transparent eagerness to know about the Temple, about the Jedi way of life.

Obi-Wan knows this. He’s fought a Sith at 20, fended it off after it dealt a nearly fatal blow to his Master. They cannot be reasoned with. Vader cannot be reasoned with.

Anakin exists only as a figment of their imaginations, their desire to have the Chosen One fly under the Jedi colors. He is not real, not anymore.

Gradually, Obi-Wan finds himself making his way up the stairs of the Jedi Temple. Of all the spots to hide--to sulk, as his Master would say--the rooftop is the one least likely to be checked. It is one of Obi-Wan’s favorite areas in the entire building.

But he had not thought to check for stragglers before arriving at his destination, had thought the thunderstorms of his own Force presence would keep others at bay. He hadn’t yet figured Vader into his calculations, hadn’t remembered the propensity Vader had for showing up right when Obi-Wan least wanted him to.

“You left,” Vader--Anakin--whoever accuses, as Obi-Wan sits down on the rooftop. The wind howls around them. Obi-Wan has the distinct thought that they’ve lived through this before, that last time Vader had cornered him on a rooftop, he had threatened to take a piece of his body home to his Master. Now, Vader is standing in his home.

Obi-Wan takes a very deep breath and banishes those sorts of thoughts. Anakin, he reminds himself. Anakin.

And just as importantly, the chip. There had been a chip. Not controlling Va--Anakin’s thoughts, but certainly controlling his actions. What he would do to survive is no different from what Obi-Wan had done to survive; they had just been on opposite sides of the war.

Is Obi-Wan weak for not being able to move past that? For not being able to greet the boy--the man--Anakin with open arms into the folds of his family?

“I did,” Obi-Wan replies, keeping his eyes on what he can see of the city skyline.

Anakin steps closer. “Why?”

He turns to face him, takes in his sweaty appearance and messy tunics. He must have been looking for Obi-Wan’s reaction. He must have seen the exact moment Obi-Wan had turned, must have scrambled to cloth himself as he followed after.

“Why does it matter?” He asks instead of answering, always instead of answering.

“Because I wanted you to watch,” Vader says.

“I’ve seen you kill Padawans before,” Obi-Wan turns away and stands up until he can lean against the high protective walls of the roof. “I wasn’t impressed.”

Vader feels frustrated in the Force. No. Anakin.

Anakin. “It was a training exercise.”

“Now,” Obi-Wan points out. “Or do you mean then?”

“Would you hate me if I said both?” “I hate you now, Vader.” The other boy’s Force signature withdraws, flinching away from Obi-Wan’s ire. He hears him sit down. He’d rather throw him off the roof.

But: “Don’t call me that,” the boy pleads quietly. “I know I can’t--that I don’t--” he cuts himself off and grows quiet.

Obi-Wan would say something to break the silence, but he doesn’t want to engage the boy if he doesn’t have to. If he closes his eyes, he can feel and see the Force raging around them, violently buffering them as it demands some sort of denouement.

The boy inhales and stands again, stepping forward hesitantly until he’s a scant foot away from Obi-Wan. “My mom always told me she thought for ages about my name. That it had come to her in a dream after I was already a month old, that it was bad luck to have waited for so long to name me because infants on Tatooine can die as quickly as their mothers.

“And then I...I couldn’t use it or hear it or speak it for so long that I think I almost forgot it, almost lost it to Sidious and...and Vader. So even if you hate me, and I know you should hate me, I know I’ve never done anything to you that cancels out the bad I’ve done to you, but. Please don’t call me that. I think it would have made her sad."

Obi-Wan works his jaw as he stares off into the city. He doesn’t think V--Anakin has ever said so many words to him. If he gives in now, he’d be just as bad as the other padawans who had welcomed Anakin in amongst them because of his big eyes and soft lips and earnest enthusiasm.

Anakin seems to take his silence as permission to continue, which it isn’t. “And I know I’m not. That I can’t be--won’t ever be a Padawan, or a Jedi Knight, that. That I’ll never wear a braid or anything. I’m not--I don’t want another Master. I never want another Master.”

Obi-Wan turns his head just enough to look at Anakin. He’s spent an awfully long amount of time hanging around Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s quarters if he doesn’t want a Master. But...what he’s saying makes sense, and, more importantly than that, soothes the furious emotions in Obi-Wan’s chest enough that he can speak. “Then I can’t understand why.” Why you’re here, why you won’t leave me alone, why you chose to follow me if you’re not trying to dispose of me and take my Master for yours.

Anakin sighs, leaning his head on his hands as he looks out at the city. Obi-Wan finds himself annoyed with that as well, even though he’d just been doing the same thing. Now he can’t tear his eyes away from Anakin’s profile.

“You’re warm in the Force,” Anakin says eventually. “I think maybe I spent too long in space, because I’m always cold. Except when I’m around you. You burn. You always have. I used to think that maybe--it was hatred or disgust at me, when I met you in battle, and you were an inferno. But you burn when you’re on creche duty too. A different kind of fire, but still so warm. It’s just your soul. It’s just who you are.”

Obi-Wan blinks open-mouthed at him. He’s never considered the thought that Vader--Anakin--had been trailing after him for anything other than easy access to his Master. Now he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say.

There’s a part of him that still doesn’t understand what Anakin wants to get out of his tenancy at the Temple, a part that whispers that the Sith can’t be trusted, no matter how blue they can make their eyes look. But the Jedi part of Obi-Wan is bigger.

The Jedi part of Obi-Wan tells him to extend his hand just enough to brush against Anakin’s exposed wrist. It’s a point of vulnerability the boy doesn’t shy away from.

“Would you…” he asks slowly, forcing the words out of his tight throat. “Like to meditate with me?”

Anakin looks astonished, then hopeful, then disappointed, then dejected. “I’m no good at meditating,” he says, scuffing the point of his shoe on the ground. “It wasn’t a huge part of my...former Master’s curriculum, and the Force is just so loud in my head that it’s hard to do anything but react.”

He looks up at Obi-Wan through his eyelashes, biting his lip as if he’s afraid that he’ll be turned away for this.

Instead, Obi-Wan turns fully to face him and latches onto his flesh hand. “There are some things, I’ve found,” he murmurs, leading them away from the edge of the roof before pulling Anakin down to sit cross-legged in front of him, “that are much easier done with someone else. Done together.”

[tanyawritesstories]

Love On The Front Lines pt. 2 | Captain Rex x Reader

Here is the sequel to my Rex fic! I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. @snips-n-skyguy0501 I hope you like it, thank you again for the request. Sorry it took so long. 😊

Warnings: fluff, mentions of nudity, more fluff, peril, depictions of birth, Rex is finally happy

•••

The day had finally come. You woke up in your bedroom on Coruscant just as light was streaming in through the viewports. You begrudgingly sat up and groaned, looking down at your huge stomach. The baby had woken you up at the crack of dawn with violent kicks to your insides for the third day in a row. You were starting to get tired of it. The little one inside you wanted out, and honestly you wanted the same thing.

You got up and ate breakfast before starting to pack what little things you needed. Rex’s two week leave started today and you had to be ready to go when he touched down. He and Anakin had formulated a plan and commed you last night to discuss it. You were to meet them at the landing platform, they would come to you. Anakin had gotten you passage on one of the transport ships that carried civilians and it would take you all the way to Naboo. When there, Padme would show you to your hideaway where you would be safe and your marriage would take place. You had memorized every detail and was ready to go. You stuffed everything into a backpack and donned a large hooded cloak, pulling the hood up to hide your face. After grabbing the backpack you locked up the apartment and made for the landing dock.

You stood off on your own near a pillar, quietly observing everything and trying to blend in. You were glad the cloak hid your stomach, you weren't an uncommon face in the GAR. Maker knows what would happen if you were recognized. You had been standing for a total of 13 minutes when you spotted two figures, also wearing hooded cloaks, heading towards you. You saw the faces of Anakin and Rex and you stepped away from the pillar to meet them. Rex's eyes met yours and he smiled. You and Rex ran the last few feet and embraced each other, in the process you accidentally pushed the hood off his head. He had ditched the armor and blacks and was wearing simple civilian clothes. You shared a quick kiss and you pulled his hood back up.

"Hey Rex," you greeted. "Hey, (Y/n). You ready?" He asked. You nodded and Rex placed a hand on your stomach, "You feeling alright?" You nodded again.

"Hurry, we haven't got much time," Anakin stated. You grabbed onto Rex's arm and you both followed Anakin to the correct platform. The General took you as far as he could then pointed out the correct ship.

"That's it down there, Rex has everything you need to get on board. Senator Amidala will be waiting for you when you reach Naboo. Good luck," he bid. You both thanked him and you parted ways. Rex and you made your way to the ship.

Not far away, a small probe droid watched the entire interaction. The Separatist droid recorded everything, sending coded messages to it's leaders.

Positive identity: General Anakin Skywalker.

Positive identity: Clone Captain Rex.

Unknown subject: Female, pregnant. 

Possible link.

Rex and you entered the ship and found a place to huddle together for the journey. He put his arm around you and held you close to him. The probe droid moved undetected, slipping through the ship door just before it closed. It sent another message.

In pursuit. 

~~~~

Sunlight assaulted your eyes as you stepped out of the ship. Rex put his hand on your back and led you away from the crowd. You both scanned the people at the landing platform finally spotting a woman stood away from everyone else. She was wearing a cloak too but hers was a light purple color and decorated beautifully. That must be Senator Amidala. Rex and you walked to her. You saw her face underneath her hood as you got closer. You reached her and she put a comforting hand on you and Rex.

"Welcome, both of you," she greeted, "Captain, it's good to see you again." Rex nodded, "Likewise Senator."

Padme turned to you, "(Y/n), am I correct? It's nice to finally meet you in person." You bowed your head, "It's a pleasure Senator Amidala." She smiled, "Please, both of you may call me Padme. Come this way."

She ushered you through an alleyway and behind a building where a man was standing with a small ground transport nearby. "Captain Typho," she addressed, "Our guests are here, are we ready to depart?"

The man nodded and hopped into the driver's seat. Padme sat next to him and Rex helped you into the back. The speeder took off, traveling through the Naboo streets. The entire trip took about an hour as Captain Typho drove into the hills. The house you would be staying at was secluded but not too far away from the city, just in case something happened. Padme walked into the house with you to show you around.

It wasn't very big, but it had the essentials and was much nicer than your shared apartment. Padme showed you around and gave you her comm frequency just in case.

"I'll see you both tomorrow to make sure your ceremony clothes fit. Until then, enjoy your time together," Padme bid.

You watched and waved as she left. You and Rex walked back into the house and he immediately picked you up and spun you around. You squealed and held on until he planted you back down on the ground. Your lips met with his as soon as your feet touched the ground and you held each other tight until you needed air.

“This place is perfect,” Rex gushed, pushing the hood off your head so he could see your face, “We’re far away from the war and it's just you and me.” You pushed the hood off his head and put your arms around his neck, “I couldn’t think of anything better.” You sighed, happily in the arms of the man you loved, “I still can’t believe we’re getting married in two days.”

~~~~

The next day went by with a blur. Rex and you had to visit Padme to make sure your formal wedding clothes fit. Rex’s was perfect because the measurements were taken from his armor, whereas yours needed more tampering to accommodate your large belly. You and Rex had dinner with Padme that night and discussed details. Upon waking up the next morning you and Rex had breakfast together before being whisked away to different sides of the house.

Your dress fit perfectly. The white strapless dress wasn’t anything super fancy but it made you look beautiful. There was beadwork on the bust and navy blue ribbon on every hem, it was loose and flowy with a small train. You were also given a navy blue veil to add to the 501st colors. Rex was ready before you and the small beach that you were to be married on was secluded and beautiful. When you were finished, Padme checked in on you and told you everything was ready and that Rex was waiting.

“This is it, are you ready?” She asked. “I couldn't be more so,” you responded. Padme laid a hand on your shoulder and handed you a small bouquet of native flowers. “Good luck.”

You made your way down to the beach with Padme close behind you. You walked slowly through the sand to where Rex and another man were waiting. Rex looked so handsome. He was wearing a blue officers uniform with his awards across the chest and white accents throughout. He looked overwhelmed with emotion, a mixture of joy, pride, and all out love. You smiled at him and he smiled back the brightest you’d ever seen. You stood in front of him and Padme took your flowers so you could join hands.

“Before we start you have two guests,” she said. You were both confused as Padme set two holodisks down in a sand a few feet away, facing you. They blinked to life to show full sized holograms of Fives and Echo.

“Sorry we weren’t invited, sir, but there was no way we were going to miss your wedding,” Echo said, Fives nodding in agreement. You laughed and thanked them both, looking at Rex. He looked proud and happy that his men were here to support and celebrate with him and gave their holograms a genuine smile. “Thank you Fives, Echo. I’m glad you’re here.”

The ceremony started and you and Rex exchanged your vows, promising to love, care for, and trust each other for the rest of your lives. “I now pronounce you, Captain Rex, and you, (Y/n) (L/n), husband and wife. You may kiss.”

You and Rex found each other’s eyes, the pure joy and light to be found was enough to make the sun jealous. At the same time, Rex and you flung your arms around each other and smashed your lips together. Applause immediately erupted from Padme, Echo, and Fives, with Fives shouting: “Way to go, Captain!”

You were finally married, you and Rex were one.

Your lips parted after a while and you both stood and basked in each other’s presence. For once, truly happy, truly safe.

~~~~

Rex stood looking out the large bedroom window at the stars in the Naboo sky.  He was still shaken from the fact that he was now married to the love of his life. It was just too good to be true, whatever did he do to deserve a time like this. A time to be free from the fighting, to relax, calm down and focus on loving you rather than battle plans and the enemy’s next move. He had since changed out of his ceremony clothes and was now sporting comfortable leisure pants and had foregone the shirt. He flinched when you wormed your arms around his middle, your head resting against his back.

“How is my husband this fine night?” Oh how much Rex loved hearing that name come from your lips. “At peace,” he said, “For the first time.” You planted a kiss to his shoulder blade.

“You know what’s supposed to happen on the wedding night, don’t you?” Rex’s eyes widened, “I don’t think that’s a good idea given your current state.”

You took his arm and turned him around to face you, Rex swallowed thickly. You were wearing a sheer robe and nothing else. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. “Darling, your due date is in two weeks and three days, I’m not sure-”

“Relax,” you said, running your hands up and down his arms, “Kix said it’s completely safe as long as you’re gentle and we lay on our sides.”

“You discussed our sex life with Kix?” Rex asked, baffled. You giggled, “He kind of needed to know, dear, he’s a medic. Plus, he’s seen the marks you’ve left on me earlier in the pregnancy.”

Rex blushed, now his medic knew the ins and outs of what goes on between his Captain and weapons expert beneath the sheets. “C’mon Rex, it’s just one night,” you begged, taking his hands and placing them on your hips.

“Captain, you haven’t had me in five months, you must be so pent up.” Rex shuddered and felt a stirring sensation in his groin, it always got to him when you used his rank. He smirked, “Alright, get on the bed.”

~~~~

It had been three days since you and Rex were wed, and everyday since then had been spent together. Picnicking in the meadows, walking through the city, swimming in the lakes, just enjoying being married before you had to go back to the war.

“I was just thinking, we haven’t discussed baby names,” you voiced. Rex looked up from polishing his blasters, which he insisted on bringing along. “What did you have in mind?” You were about to answer when you both heard a huge splash from outside.

“That’s odd, we’re the only ones up here, and there are only little fish in that lake,” you said. Rex loaded his blasters and headed for the door that led out to the porch, you followed close behind. He couldn’t see anything outside but thought it best to check it out. “Stay here.” He opened the doors and walked out onto the porch. There were still no signs of anything, but the noise was suspicious and Rex was determined to figure it out, he had to protect his family.

He walked to the railing and looked out over the beach. Nothing. He lowered his weapons, confused. It was silent now, strangely so. In the blink of an eye, a commando droid sprung up in front of him. Rex reflexively aimed and shot the droid square in the head. The surrounding area seemed to move as several droids came out of the water and foliage, aiming their blasters and opening fire.

“Get inside!” Rex shouted.

This can’t be happening, how is this happening, thoughts ran through your head faster than the blasts being fired your way.

“Rex how did they find us?” You yelled. Rex grabbed your arm and pulled you with him into another room, firing as he ran. “I don’t know,” he said. He took a point at the door and fired back at your attackers. You backed away from the door, trying to think of some way to help. Metal arms suddenly wrapped around your neck and pulled, a droid had you. You screamed. Rex turned and fired, killing the droid. You fell to the floor with the hunk of metal, wincing in pain. 

Rex rushed to you, putting his back to the door. “Are you ok?” You saw three droids come through the door, you grabbed the blaster from the fallen droid and shot all three, stopping them in the doorway. Rex looked at the droids you just shot, then back at you.

“Sometimes I forget you’re a weapons expert.” He helped you to your feet and you took cover behind a sofa, popping up and shooting from behind it. The pain you felt from hitting the floor hadn’t gone away, your back was starting to hurt more and more. You shot down two more droids then ducked back down. You winced from the pain, increasing by the second. You felt liquid gush down your legs and you looked down to see a puddle of water at your feet.

“Oh no.”

You turned and shot another droid. “Rex!” 

He didn’t hear you.

“Rex!” You shouted over the noise of the guns.

“What is it?” He responded. You both ducked down and he looked at you. “My water just broke.” Horror spread across his face. "What do we do?" He asked. You shrugged, a bullet blasted through the sofa between you and Rex. "We need to move!"

Rex helped you up and you instantly doubled in pain, yelling out. Rex shot at more of the metal intruders as he helped you to the bedroom. You hid on the other side of the bed and Rex stayed at the door again. You pulled the comm device out of a pocket and contacted Padme.

"Hello, (Y/n)?" She answered. "Padme!" You shouted, "We need help, droids are attacking, they're after us!"

"Ok, I'm sending forces your way. Can you hold out until then?" You looked over at Rex who was backing away from the door and looking for new cover. "No, we're being overrun."

"Alright. If you can, get to the bedroom. There's a hidden entrance behind the bookshelf. It leads to an old security room. You should be safe in there until help arrives," she instructed. 

"Ok, tell them to hurry!" You turned off the comm device and screamed in pain. The contractions not letting up and only getting worse. "Rex! I have a plan!" You shouted. You crawled to the bookshelf and tried pushing it. "There's a security bunker behind this, we'll be safe until help comes!" Rex ran to you and shoved the bookshelf out of the way with ease.

"How do you know someone is coming?" He asked. "I commed Padme, she's sending help," you clutched your belly, trying not to scream. Rex picked you up and punched the open button for the blast doors. He carried you down the stairs and set you in a corner. He pushed a few buttons into the door and they closed and locked with a slam. Rex returned to where you sat panting and groaning in pain.

"Help better arrive soon, we need to get you to a doctor," He said, panicking. "You're not due for another two weeks, how-" 

"I don't know, but this baby is coming whether we like it or not," you screamed the last few words. You latched onto Rex's leg and he hissed in pain at how hard you grabbed him. Rex watched as you squirmed and screamed in pain. You came to a realization as the pain became mind numbing. Rex turned his head towards the door as he heard the droids attempting to shoot it down.

"Rex this baby is coming now," he turned back to you, "you're going to have to deliver it."

Rex was scared shitless. "Me? (Y/n), I have no idea what I'm doing, how am I going to-" 

"I've done my research and I remember what Kix told me, I can walk you through it," you panted. Rex paled and stuttered over his words. "O-ok, what do I do?" "I need to lay down with my head propped up, and you need to remove my pants and underwear."

Rex scrambled nervously to lay you down but keep your head and upper body propped up with some debris he covered with his jacket. He took off your bottom layers and put them under your butt to protect you from the dirty floor.

"Alright now what?" You screamed out and reached for his hand, Rex hesitated to give it to you because he was afraid you'd break it with how hard you squeezed his leg.

"I do the rest of the work, and you provide moral support," you laughed lightly. Rex was shocked at the fact you were able to laugh in this situation. An explosion went off outside the door. "Whatever you do make sure I do not stop breathing or pass out from hyperventilating," you added.

Rex nodded and got you to breathe with him in between screams and contractions. He encouraged you to push, all the while the explosions outside the door got bigger. You continued to scream and groan in pain as Rex waited and provided support.

"Rex, I don't think I can do this," you whined. "Yes you can, darling," he urged, "you're strong, I know you can do this, (Y/n). C'mon now push!" Rex's abilities as a leader came in handy as his words gave you strength. There was a massive burst of blaster fire and the door began creaking. "Rex.." you said, concerned. "Don't worry, they're not getting through," he assured, hoping he was right.

You kept pushing and Rex reacted to something, reaching down between your legs. "The head is through!" He said, "c'mon (Y/n) you're almost there!"

Rex removed his shirt and held it out to catch the child. You took a deep breath and pushed as hard as you could, screaming at the top of your lungs. Then the pressure and pain subsided a small amount.

"Oh my Force.." Rex breathed. The next thing you heard was a baby crying.

Rex had paled again as the newborn was covered in blood and fluids unknown to him. "Is there supposed to be this much blood?" You sat up a little, "Yes, you need to clean them off and cut the cord."

Rex held the baby as if it were transparisteel, gently wiping away the blood and other liquids. You reached into your shirt and pulled out a small knife, handing it to Rex. "The father always gets the honor of cutting the cord," you said. Rex took the knife and gently severed the connection. He wrapped the baby in his shirt and carefully handed the small bundle to you. You cradled the small life form in your arms, unwrapping the shirt a little bit. "It's a girl."

Rex sighed and slumped against the wall, relieved and happy. He crawled and sat next to you looking at the small being in your arms that you had pressed to your skin. She had stopped crying the second she was pressed against your warm body. 

"She's perfect, Rex," you voiced. Rex looked at the baby. His daughter, his creation, it was love at first sight. "She's beautiful," he said, tears welling up in his eyes, "I helped make that?" You nodded and smiled at him, "yes, we made that." You reached up and pulled Rex into a kiss. "We did it, babe."

You both were startled out of your moment when the blast doors were heard opening. Rex turned as he heard footsteps rushing down the stairs. He was about to reach for his blasters when he caught sight of who all it was.

General Skywalker stood at the bottom of the stairs with Fives and Echo by his side and the rest of Torrent Company behind them. Rex sighed in relief again. "We heard you needed rescuing," Anakin said. You peered out from behind Rex seeing the boys all standing there. Rex leaned back to show you holding the little human, Kix rushed to your side to make sure you and the baby were in good health.

"Alright men, let's give them some room until Kix says it's ok," General Skywalker ushered the men upstairs and allowed Kix to check out you and baby. "You're both perfectly healthy," he said, putting a blanket over your bottom half. "Have you decided on a name?"

You and Rex looked at each other. "I like Raina," Rex said. "Raina is beautiful," you agreed. Kix smiled at you both, "Congratulations. I'll give you a few minutes and then let the men come down if that's alright." "Sounds good, Kix. Thank you," Rex nodded. Kix went back upstairs, leaving you and Rex with your new baby girl. "C-can I hold her?" 

"Of course, you're her papa," you showed Rex how to hold Raina and he took her gently in his arms. "She's so light," he whispered. He took in the image of his daughter, staring at the little life form that he helped create and that was now his and yours to cherish and raise.

"Rex.." he looked at you, "Are you alright, honey?" You offered a warm smile. Rex now registered that he had tears streaming down his face.

"Yes, I'm just so happy. This is something I never thought I'd get," he confessed, "To be able to see and hold my daughter, to have a child. I'm just a clone, and she makes me feel like I have so much purpose now."

You took his face in your hands, wiping away his tears. "I feel more motivated to win this war knowing I'm fighting for you and her," Rex sniffed, you put your arm around him and a hand on Raina's head. Rex blinked to hold back more tears and sighed happily. "Cut was right." 

You kissed Rex on the cheek and he shuffled Raina back into your arms. You smiled, rubbing your thumb against her little cheek. You burst into a fit of giggles and Rex smirked at you. "What is it?"

"I just realized something," you said, "Raina now has millions of uncles." Rex laughed along with you, "She'll be spoiled for sure."

A chorus of footsteps came down the stairs and the bewildered men gathered around you to look at the baby. "Now don't get too close," Kix warned, "and don't be loud." Curious gazes all shone down at you and your husband. "She's so tiny," Fives voiced. "Congratulations," Echo added. "You never told us the baby was Rex's," Jesse said, eyebrow raised.

Rex glared at his brother. "We weren't sure what to do and we're sorry we lied," you admitted.

"Don't worry," Jesse said, "as far as any of us are concerned, she's still the result of the Coruscant guy." You and Rex looked confused.

"He means, your secret is safe with us," Hardcase put in. "All of us," Tup added. "Thank you all so much," you gushed. 

Fives looked to the rest of the men, "That means we're all uncles now, boys. Raina is our responsibility now too."

"You were right, love," you said to Rex. "About what?" He questioned. "She is going to be spoiled."

[clairen45]

Hey :-) In the new Anidala comic there is a interesting thing: the actress's museum is called "thousand faces museum" and I was never a believer in the reincarnation theory but in my opion, this is telling. Anakin and Padmè, both of them walking through this museum, which shows important moments of history. And on top of that, there is a picture of the place where Anakin and Padmè had married, but this picture is still "work progress" What do you think about all this new stuff?

Oh dear anon, these two issues from Star Wars adventures, issues 12 and 13, are so ripe with meta textuality that it’s not funny. This comic blew me away with the clever references and jokes. It’s all about reverse Anidala and the Skywalker saga coming full circle with Reylo. From the cover of 12 that looked so much like Rey and Kylo fighting back to back, to all the winks in there. This stuff is so great.

Ok, museum of the 1000 faces. Fans of GOT could love that one too because you have this idea of a character being able to wear the face of someone else and become this character in order to fulfill a mission, right? Given that the TV show (not sure what the book series will do) is following the path of descendants fixing the mistakes of the past (fire and ice, Starks and Targaryens), and of chosen ones coming back (Azor Ahai, the Prince that was promised), this is also a noteworthy parallel. Even more so that Arya, the one whose arc goes through the hall of faces, also becomes an actress (in the TV show she is fascinated by plays but does not become part of the troupe).

The idea in the Star Wars comic is that Madam Synata is a versatile actress that played all these many characters: hence the Thousand Faces Museum. She is also two-faced in real life since she is actually working for Dooku.

Funny anecdote, she is supposed to be this great famous actress in the galaxy, yet she is introduced to Anakin in the comic through an obvious parallel with faded silent film star Norma Desmond from Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard

Besides the pose, the staircase, the dramatic walking down the stairs, actress Gloria Swanson, who plays Norma Desmond, would have favored this kind of feathered dress and hat…

I think the reference is here to point out everything that does not work out about her. She gets her facts all mixed up and wrong, as repeated over and over again in the comic, as we can see here for instance:

And of course:

If Risha does not get the end she was expecting because “she was not the hero of the story”, the idea that there are “two sides” to a story is still an essential one in the saga. From Obi Wan’s “certain point of view” sentence to the scrolling credits to ROTS that boldly state that there are “heroes on both sides” of the war. This is not minor and it indeed matters. So even if Risha gets it all wrong (beginning with the side she chose),  there is still some value to take away from this story. And mostly, this  comic raises a lot of question about where the Skywalker as a whole is headed and offers a bridge between the PT (where this story takes place) and the current ST.

Let’s come back to this Thousand Faces museum. Contrary to GOT’s Hall of Faces, the point is not really about the diversity of faces exhibited. Even though you get different dioramas of scenes presenting mannequins or animatronics with various settings, the point of the museum is to showcase Risha’s face in various poses and costumes over and over and over again. So these thousand faces are really just the one face of Risha in 1000 different settings, poses, and costumes. As you can see there examplified:

In terms of the ST, this should ring a bell. We got a thousand faces and yet only one face represented on screen, right?

And interestingly, Risha belongs to the Dark Side, like the cave on Ahch-To, and acts like a mirror, reflecting everything wrong: her stories are never accurate. Another huge wink at Rey we get earlier (so that Risha dons both Padmé and Rey’s costumes or attitudes in this comic) :

So what else do we get that should give us matter to pause and ponder upon?

You very rightly, dear anon, pointed out the “work in progress” reference to Naboo.

The comic is not even subtle about it, commenting right away about the meta aspect of this: our PT love story is a tragedy, we are a work in progress. Ok, gotcha. But what the story tells us too is that Anakin and Padmé are unfinished business, right? A part of a bigger story that still requires completion. Like a PT that can be completed with a ST? So what scene needs to get completed? The wedding scene of course, the exchange of vows, what normally constitutes the climax and perfect ending to any self-worthy fairy-tale.

Unfortunately, that is a fail for the PT, as we well know. Since Risha usually gets stories wrong, though, it’s a good thing this story still needs to be completed. Padmé bets that Risha would have ruined the scene with a tragedy, which, given that Risha gets things inverted, means that the story would have ended happily. Nope. So better leave it unfinished. The couple missing on the painting is not Padmé and Anakin. Possibly it hints at Rey and Kylo (though not necessarily wedding on Naboo, this is just symbolic). Also again, inversion of the story: Anakin poor boy falls for royalty, and Kylo royal boy falls for poor girl. Ummmm, subtletly be damned. Work in progress indeed, since the ST and the saga are not completed and are currently shooting.

More stuff. Funny how this sentence is repeated over and over again, even by a Yoda animatronic:

Padmé has escaped many dangerous situations and assassination attempts. Sure, she will still escape this time around, but eventually, we know that she won’t. It’s like the ticking of a clock, and clock ticking, well, that’s another way of talking about the need felt by some women to have babies…

Even better stuff; Have you noticed these little sceneries as our heroes run down the hall?

Ok… So they are running from Tatooine to Endor!!! Tatooine is the passageway to their escape. Sure, it’s the transitional planet between the PT and the OT, the only planet that they both feature. It’s the last one we get from ROTS and the first one we get in ANH. The Ewoks and Ewok village that’s unmistakably ROTJ. So the characters have escaped the setting of the PT to run through the OT (and the planet that sees the funeral of Anakin). What is the next scenery we get?

A snow planet. I would not necessarily pay any attention to the characters in the background. but look at the way Anakin and Padmé are flying about in a snow-covered landscape… Do you remember Kylo chasing Rey on Starkiller base?

And then in the next issue, it’s like going backward with this scene that could TLJ’s Canto Bight (which is oddly enough totally unrelated to Kylo or Rey):

And straight to the beginning of PM with Naboo’s sea monsters:

“We’re close”… meaning close to the final act, the end. And what is the final act about in this story?

Which does not work out for Risha, of course. Which does not work out for Anakin, but certainly did work for Luke in the OT and is bound to work for Kylo in the ST.

Cross this with this very important line from the TLJ graphic adaptation:

So we keep on saying the same references to the circle, to repeating history, to getting it right after many mistakes and failures, be it in litteral sentences or through the actions of the main characters. So, of course, Reylo. Look at the next two pictures depicting Luke’s death:

The light of two suns…Which fuse into one. 2 suns meeting to “step into a larger world��. This is not death, this is rebirth, this is birth. Womb/Tomb. The cave entrance. Death feeding life, right? This was an important part of the first lesson Luke gave Rey on that very spot. The utlimate metaphor of the two suns fusing, like two people becoming one through love, a wedding, sexual union, and creating life. A work in progress?

There is a lot to cover in these silly cartoons that are actually incredibly clever and thoughtful. I also love the tongue-in-cheek quality of such a line:

Does Star Wars produce too many shows?

And I had to edit this OP with the very important note made to me by @toawaterfowl. What work did Lucas credit for being essential to the concept of this saga? Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Of course!

[alright-anakin]

Oh this is so cute 🥺🥺🥺

for obikin, maybe pretending to hate each other au? (sth where their ages are a little closer, perhaps, so obi-wan can be intensely petty and not feel the need to Set an Example)

45. (Pretending To) Hate Each Other (raised as Sith!Anakin, salty!Padawan Obi-Wan)(1.6k)

Obi-Wan turns away from the training stalles with a barely suppressed sneer. Anakin, as he is to be called, has defeated his opponents. His fellow Padawans. Darth Vader has become a Padawan and everyone is just fine with it.

Obi-Wan marches out into the halls, not knowing where he’s going, but knowing he must get away from the smirk on Anakin’s face as he had lowered his training saber to his opponent’s neck. Does no one but Obi-Wan remember how just months ago Vader’s saber had been pressed against his neck and it hadn’t been a training exercise? Does no one remember the atrocities Anakin had committed, the sentients Anakin had killed?

And yet Obi-Wan’s master seems infinitely fascinated by the boy. And yet Obi-Wan, it seems, cannot step out of his own room without finding this Anakin underfoot, either taking tea with his Master, or dolefully skulking around the doorway of Obi-Wan’s quarters. What draws the boy, he has no lasting idea.

They’re approximately the same age, he supposes, although Obi-Wan has a few years at least on Anakin--it’s clearer to see now that Anakin has stopped wearing his helmet and armor into battle, now that the lines of his face are not hardened by scowls and snarls. Really, he’s a boy. His medical chart puts him at eighteen, making him four years Obi-Wan’s junior.

And, he supposes, Qui-Gon was the one to find Anakin wounded on the battlefield, the one to insist they treat the Sith, heal him, and give him shelter. But Obi-Wan was the one who had found the slave chip embedded between his ribcage, the one who had alerted the Council to its presence, so it could be used to find the boy’s master, to capture him or kill him, to end the war.

But surely, whatever small part Obi-Wan had played in the war’s conclusion, the Force should have known better than to repay him by gifting him with the care and keeping of a Sith Lord, Chosen One or not.

Although Obi-Wan can admit, even if only to himself, that it’s worse when Vader latches onto anyone else in the Temple. His master is too starry-eyed by his ideas of Vader’s midichlorians, his destiny as the Chosen One, to see the boy in front of him now.

And anyone younger than Vader is too easily swayed by his looks, his charm, his disgustingly transparent eagerness to know about the Temple, about the Jedi way of life.

Obi-Wan knows this. He’s fought a Sith at 20, fended it off after it dealt a nearly fatal blow to his Master. They cannot be reasoned with. Vader cannot be reasoned with.

Anakin exists only as a figment of their imaginations, their desire to have the Chosen One fly under the Jedi colors. He is not real, not anymore.

Gradually, Obi-Wan finds himself making his way up the stairs of the Jedi Temple. Of all the spots to hide--to sulk, as his Master would say--the rooftop is the one least likely to be checked. It is one of Obi-Wan’s favorite areas in the entire building.

But he had not thought to check for stragglers before arriving at his destination, had thought the thunderstorms of his own Force presence would keep others at bay. He hadn’t yet figured Vader into his calculations, hadn’t remembered the propensity Vader had for showing up right when Obi-Wan least wanted him to.

“You left,” Vader--Anakin--whoever accuses, as Obi-Wan sits down on the rooftop. The wind howls around them. Obi-Wan has the distinct thought that they’ve lived through this before, that last time Vader had cornered him on a rooftop, he had threatened to take a piece of his body home to his Master. Now, Vader is standing in his home.

Obi-Wan takes a very deep breath and banishes those sorts of thoughts. Anakin, he reminds himself. Anakin.

And just as importantly, the chip. There had been a chip. Not controlling Va--Anakin’s thoughts, but certainly controlling his actions. What he would do to survive is no different from what Obi-Wan had done to survive; they had just been on opposite sides of the war.

Is Obi-Wan weak for not being able to move past that? For not being able to greet the boy--the man--Anakin with open arms into the folds of his family?

“I did,” Obi-Wan replies, keeping his eyes on what he can see of the city skyline.

Anakin steps closer. “Why?”

He turns to face him, takes in his sweaty appearance and messy tunics. He must have been looking for Obi-Wan’s reaction. He must have seen the exact moment Obi-Wan had turned, must have scrambled to cloth himself as he followed after.

“Why does it matter?” He asks instead of answering, always instead of answering.

“Because I wanted you to watch,” Vader says.

“I’ve seen you kill Padawans before,” Obi-Wan turns away and stands up until he can lean against the high protective walls of the roof. “I wasn’t impressed.”

Vader feels frustrated in the Force. No. Anakin.

Anakin. “It was a training exercise.”

“Now,” Obi-Wan points out. “Or do you mean then?”

“Would you hate me if I said both?” “I hate you now, Vader.” The other boy’s Force signature withdraws, flinching away from Obi-Wan’s ire. He hears him sit down. He’d rather throw him off the roof.

But: “Don’t call me that,” the boy pleads quietly. “I know I can’t--that I don’t--” he cuts himself off and grows quiet.

Obi-Wan would say something to break the silence, but he doesn’t want to engage the boy if he doesn’t have to. If he closes his eyes, he can feel and see the Force raging around them, violently buffering them as it demands some sort of denouement.

The boy inhales and stands again, stepping forward hesitantly until he’s a scant foot away from Obi-Wan. “My mom always told me she thought for ages about my name. That it had come to her in a dream after I was already a month old, that it was bad luck to have waited for so long to name me because infants on Tatooine can die as quickly as their mothers.

“And then I...I couldn’t use it or hear it or speak it for so long that I think I almost forgot it, almost lost it to Sidious and...and Vader. So even if you hate me, and I know you should hate me, I know I’ve never done anything to you that cancels out the bad I’ve done to you, but. Please don’t call me that. I think it would have made her sad."

Obi-Wan works his jaw as he stares off into the city. He doesn’t think V--Anakin has ever said so many words to him. If he gives in now, he’d be just as bad as the other padawans who had welcomed Anakin in amongst them because of his big eyes and soft lips and earnest enthusiasm.

Anakin seems to take his silence as permission to continue, which it isn’t. “And I know I’m not. That I can’t be--won’t ever be a Padawan, or a Jedi Knight, that. That I’ll never wear a braid or anything. I’m not--I don’t want another Master. I never want another Master.”

Obi-Wan turns his head just enough to look at Anakin. He’s spent an awfully long amount of time hanging around Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s quarters if he doesn’t want a Master. But...what he’s saying makes sense, and, more importantly than that, soothes the furious emotions in Obi-Wan’s chest enough that he can speak. “Then I can’t understand why.” Why you’re here, why you won’t leave me alone, why you chose to follow me if you’re not trying to dispose of me and take my Master for yours.

Anakin sighs, leaning his head on his hands as he looks out at the city. Obi-Wan finds himself annoyed with that as well, even though he’d just been doing the same thing. Now he can’t tear his eyes away from Anakin’s profile.

“You’re warm in the Force,” Anakin says eventually. “I think maybe I spent too long in space, because I’m always cold. Except when I’m around you. You burn. You always have. I used to think that maybe--it was hatred or disgust at me, when I met you in battle, and you were an inferno. But you burn when you’re on creche duty too. A different kind of fire, but still so warm. It’s just your soul. It’s just who you are.”

Obi-Wan blinks open-mouthed at him. He’s never considered the thought that Vader--Anakin--had been trailing after him for anything other than easy access to his Master. Now he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say.

There’s a part of him that still doesn’t understand what Anakin wants to get out of his tenancy at the Temple, a part that whispers that the Sith can’t be trusted, no matter how blue they can make their eyes look. But the Jedi part of Obi-Wan is bigger.

The Jedi part of Obi-Wan tells him to extend his hand just enough to brush against Anakin’s exposed wrist. It’s a point of vulnerability the boy doesn’t shy away from.

“Would you…” he asks slowly, forcing the words out of his tight throat. “Like to meditate with me?”

Anakin looks astonished, then hopeful, then disappointed, then dejected. “I’m no good at meditating,” he says, scuffing the point of his shoe on the ground. “It wasn’t a huge part of my...former Master’s curriculum, and the Force is just so loud in my head that it’s hard to do anything but react.”

He looks up at Obi-Wan through his eyelashes, biting his lip as if he’s afraid that he’ll be turned away for this.

Instead, Obi-Wan turns fully to face him and latches onto his flesh hand. “There are some things, I’ve found,” he murmurs, leading them away from the edge of the roof before pulling Anakin down to sit cross-legged in front of him, “that are much easier done with someone else. Done together.”

[dream-about-dancing]

#that last line shows up in anakin's wedding vows#like eight years later#and obi-wan thinks anakins making fun of him#but really that was just the moment sith!anakin decided obi-wan would singularly possess his heart and soul for the rest of his life#of course he was gonna quote it in the wedding vows#OBi-WAN#what did you expect?? him to quote the line about killing padawans??

for obikin, maybe pretending to hate each other au? (sth where their ages are a little closer, perhaps, so obi-wan can be intensely petty and not feel the need to Set an Example)

45. (Pretending To) Hate Each Other (raised as Sith!Anakin, salty!Padawan Obi-Wan)(1.6k)

Obi-Wan turns away from the training stalles with a barely suppressed sneer. Anakin, as he is to be called, has defeated his opponents. His fellow Padawans. Darth Vader has become a Padawan and everyone is just fine with it.

Obi-Wan marches out into the halls, not knowing where he’s going, but knowing he must get away from the smirk on Anakin’s face as he had lowered his training saber to his opponent’s neck. Does no one but Obi-Wan remember how just months ago Vader’s saber had been pressed against his neck and it hadn’t been a training exercise? Does no one remember the atrocities Anakin had committed, the sentients Anakin had killed?

And yet Obi-Wan’s master seems infinitely fascinated by the boy. And yet Obi-Wan, it seems, cannot step out of his own room without finding this Anakin underfoot, either taking tea with his Master, or dolefully skulking around the doorway of Obi-Wan’s quarters. What draws the boy, he has no lasting idea.

They’re approximately the same age, he supposes, although Obi-Wan has a few years at least on Anakin--it’s clearer to see now that Anakin has stopped wearing his helmet and armor into battle, now that the lines of his face are not hardened by scowls and snarls. Really, he’s a boy. His medical chart puts him at eighteen, making him four years Obi-Wan’s junior.

And, he supposes, Qui-Gon was the one to find Anakin wounded on the battlefield, the one to insist they treat the Sith, heal him, and give him shelter. But Obi-Wan was the one who had found the slave chip embedded between his ribcage, the one who had alerted the Council to its presence, so it could be used to find the boy’s master, to capture him or kill him, to end the war.

But surely, whatever small part Obi-Wan had played in the war’s conclusion, the Force should have known better than to repay him by gifting him with the care and keeping of a Sith Lord, Chosen One or not.

Although Obi-Wan can admit, even if only to himself, that it’s worse when Vader latches onto anyone else in the Temple. His master is too starry-eyed by his ideas of Vader’s midichlorians, his destiny as the Chosen One, to see the boy in front of him now.

And anyone younger than Vader is too easily swayed by his looks, his charm, his disgustingly transparent eagerness to know about the Temple, about the Jedi way of life.

Obi-Wan knows this. He’s fought a Sith at 20, fended it off after it dealt a nearly fatal blow to his Master. They cannot be reasoned with. Vader cannot be reasoned with.

Anakin exists only as a figment of their imaginations, their desire to have the Chosen One fly under the Jedi colors. He is not real, not anymore.

Gradually, Obi-Wan finds himself making his way up the stairs of the Jedi Temple. Of all the spots to hide--to sulk, as his Master would say--the rooftop is the one least likely to be checked. It is one of Obi-Wan’s favorite areas in the entire building.

But he had not thought to check for stragglers before arriving at his destination, had thought the thunderstorms of his own Force presence would keep others at bay. He hadn’t yet figured Vader into his calculations, hadn’t remembered the propensity Vader had for showing up right when Obi-Wan least wanted him to.

“You left,” Vader--Anakin--whoever accuses, as Obi-Wan sits down on the rooftop. The wind howls around them. Obi-Wan has the distinct thought that they’ve lived through this before, that last time Vader had cornered him on a rooftop, he had threatened to take a piece of his body home to his Master. Now, Vader is standing in his home.

Obi-Wan takes a very deep breath and banishes those sorts of thoughts. Anakin, he reminds himself. Anakin.

And just as importantly, the chip. There had been a chip. Not controlling Va--Anakin’s thoughts, but certainly controlling his actions. What he would do to survive is no different from what Obi-Wan had done to survive; they had just been on opposite sides of the war.

Is Obi-Wan weak for not being able to move past that? For not being able to greet the boy--the man--Anakin with open arms into the folds of his family?

“I did,” Obi-Wan replies, keeping his eyes on what he can see of the city skyline.

Anakin steps closer. “Why?”

He turns to face him, takes in his sweaty appearance and messy tunics. He must have been looking for Obi-Wan’s reaction. He must have seen the exact moment Obi-Wan had turned, must have scrambled to cloth himself as he followed after.

“Why does it matter?” He asks instead of answering, always instead of answering.

“Because I wanted you to watch,” Vader says.

“I’ve seen you kill Padawans before,” Obi-Wan turns away and stands up until he can lean against the high protective walls of the roof. “I wasn’t impressed.”

Vader feels frustrated in the Force. No. Anakin.

Anakin. “It was a training exercise.”

“Now,” Obi-Wan points out. “Or do you mean then?”

“Would you hate me if I said both?” “I hate you now, Vader.” The other boy’s Force signature withdraws, flinching away from Obi-Wan’s ire. He hears him sit down. He’d rather throw him off the roof.

But: “Don’t call me that,” the boy pleads quietly. “I know I can’t--that I don’t--” he cuts himself off and grows quiet.

Obi-Wan would say something to break the silence, but he doesn’t want to engage the boy if he doesn’t have to. If he closes his eyes, he can feel and see the Force raging around them, violently buffering them as it demands some sort of denouement.

The boy inhales and stands again, stepping forward hesitantly until he’s a scant foot away from Obi-Wan. “My mom always told me she thought for ages about my name. That it had come to her in a dream after I was already a month old, that it was bad luck to have waited for so long to name me because infants on Tatooine can die as quickly as their mothers.

“And then I...I couldn’t use it or hear it or speak it for so long that I think I almost forgot it, almost lost it to Sidious and...and Vader. So even if you hate me, and I know you should hate me, I know I’ve never done anything to you that cancels out the bad I’ve done to you, but. Please don’t call me that. I think it would have made her sad."

Obi-Wan works his jaw as he stares off into the city. He doesn’t think V--Anakin has ever said so many words to him. If he gives in now, he’d be just as bad as the other padawans who had welcomed Anakin in amongst them because of his big eyes and soft lips and earnest enthusiasm.

Anakin seems to take his silence as permission to continue, which it isn’t. “And I know I’m not. That I can’t be--won’t ever be a Padawan, or a Jedi Knight, that. That I’ll never wear a braid or anything. I’m not--I don’t want another Master. I never want another Master.”

Obi-Wan turns his head just enough to look at Anakin. He’s spent an awfully long amount of time hanging around Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s quarters if he doesn’t want a Master. But...what he’s saying makes sense, and, more importantly than that, soothes the furious emotions in Obi-Wan’s chest enough that he can speak. “Then I can’t understand why.” Why you’re here, why you won’t leave me alone, why you chose to follow me if you’re not trying to dispose of me and take my Master for yours.

Anakin sighs, leaning his head on his hands as he looks out at the city. Obi-Wan finds himself annoyed with that as well, even though he’d just been doing the same thing. Now he can’t tear his eyes away from Anakin’s profile.

“You’re warm in the Force,” Anakin says eventually. “I think maybe I spent too long in space, because I’m always cold. Except when I’m around you. You burn. You always have. I used to think that maybe--it was hatred or disgust at me, when I met you in battle, and you were an inferno. But you burn when you’re on creche duty too. A different kind of fire, but still so warm. It’s just your soul. It’s just who you are.”

Obi-Wan blinks open-mouthed at him. He’s never considered the thought that Vader--Anakin--had been trailing after him for anything other than easy access to his Master. Now he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say.

There’s a part of him that still doesn’t understand what Anakin wants to get out of his tenancy at the Temple, a part that whispers that the Sith can’t be trusted, no matter how blue they can make their eyes look. But the Jedi part of Obi-Wan is bigger.

The Jedi part of Obi-Wan tells him to extend his hand just enough to brush against Anakin’s exposed wrist. It’s a point of vulnerability the boy doesn’t shy away from.

“Would you…” he asks slowly, forcing the words out of his tight throat. “Like to meditate with me?”

Anakin looks astonished, then hopeful, then disappointed, then dejected. “I’m no good at meditating,” he says, scuffing the point of his shoe on the ground. “It wasn’t a huge part of my...former Master’s curriculum, and the Force is just so loud in my head that it’s hard to do anything but react.”

He looks up at Obi-Wan through his eyelashes, biting his lip as if he’s afraid that he’ll be turned away for this.

Instead, Obi-Wan turns fully to face him and latches onto his flesh hand. “There are some things, I’ve found,” he murmurs, leading them away from the edge of the roof before pulling Anakin down to sit cross-legged in front of him, “that are much easier done with someone else. Done together.”