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forever--darling · 10 months ago

Text

the spoken code

summary: it's been six months within the temple & suddenly, you can't shake that this connection with anakin skywalker seems out of the ordinary, even among jedi, enough so you are prompted with a sign from the force itself, only eliciting more confusion & concerns.

pairings: anakin skywalker x jedi!reader

word count: 14.0k

warnings/notes: mention of war, of death, mention of clone wars, mention of reader's past life, swearing, fluff, soulmate au, teasingaotc!anakin, lots of plot development for these two, pre-angst

series masterlist | 03

Darkness, something you had become quite accustomed to for months. It was waning, though, you knew it; the comfort, the desire to lean into it until it swallowed you whole. It was dissipating day by day, being replaced by something else entirely, by someone else entirely. Yet, you still couldn’t understand it. This hold, this plan, the force had written out for the two of you.

The more you searched, meditated, and felt inclined to ask Master Obi-Wan, the more the answers seemed further and further from clear. What did they want from you? What did the higher powers of the world want? Why did you suddenly seem so important within the plays of humanity? You couldn’t know.

A light appeared, pulling you from your thoughts, seeming to be as loud as your lingering footsteps among the dark tiles. Near the end of the hallway, it glowed brightly, a soft blue, enticing you to move closer and closer.

“Hello?” you called out, your voice a mere echo among the long black walls and black floors. All that was in response to the wallowing silence was but the sound of a faint step off into the distance. One and then perhaps two.

That quietness loomed, and your chest tightened, confusion the only feeling you could grasp as you continued forward. Reaching for your belt, you found the spot empty where your lightsaber usually sat. As you peered down, you realized then, in the dim light alone, you weren’t in your robes either. The familiar tunic and pants are somehow gone. Replaced by a long white skirt that brushed softly along your bare ankles, paired with a tight long sleeve just as white. It was small along your wrists but comfortable, forming around you as a second skin.

Another faint step could be heard just off to your left. You turned quickly but were only met with the pitch black. Your pulse spiked. “Who’s there?”

Once again, the silence was the only response. Sighing heavily, you turned back to the bright light that remained floating within midair, dauntingly so, as if daring you to step forward. With no other sign in sight, that was exactly what you did. You walked forward, carefully until you were face to face with the bright light. With furrowed brows and eyes reflected by the strange orb, some feeling suddenly washed over. A need to stretch out your arm, to brush your fingers among it. A certain impulse that only grew.

With no Master to advise you over your shoulder or the tall chosen one to talk it over with, you couldn’t help but reach forward, fingers outstretched. With the smallest brush, a warmth appeared first in your fingertips and then among the empty space in your chest.

It took a second, no more, before the ball of light disappeared, erupting more so and soaking upon the walls before you. Your whole sight was washed over with brightness, and you couldn’t help but shield them, a wince falling from your lips.

A moment passed, and you felt almost afraid to drop your face from your elbow until you heard the lightest laugh. One far too familiar that it had caused your chest to tighten and almost skip. As you dropped your arm to your side, you gasped in surprise. Surprised to find the darkness completely gone but bathed in so much sunlight, all of which washed over cream and beige-colored pillars that towered above you, tangled among the thickest branches and veins stringed with white flowers.

“Grandmother,” the young voice laughed again, it filled with so much life. You had almost forgotten it once sounded like that.

You turned, and your eyes widened slightly at the sight before you. There within the arbor sat a small girl no older than eight, wearing a white long skirt and a long sleeve that matched your own. Her hair was long and pulled back out of her face in a low knot, small gold butterfly clips laced within the strands of hair. Her face was bare of any invisible scars, evidence of misfortunes. She was pure.

“What?” The older female voice came from the adult sitting close to the child, legs outstretched, long greying curls bouncing along her shoulders, “Y/N, my darling, are you saying you don’t believe me, the former queen?”

Grandmother.

The eight-year-old version of yourself giggled again, shaking your head with the uttermost oblivion, “No, it can’t be true. They couldn’t fly, at least not way up there.”

Your heart ached at the sight then, at the mere innocence that once reflected your skin in such oblivious happiness. Your Grandmother chuckled, that warm comforting sound you had forgotten about not long after she passed when you were no more than fifteen. A soft smile formed across her aging face, so much peace there and then as the sounds of Bakura echoed around the arbor.

“Shall I tell you another story then?” the former queen asked, only to have the young girl nod eagerly. “Alright, let me think for a moment?”

“Nona,” you interrupted, small eyes peering up through the arbor as if looking for what could only be invisible during that time of day, “The stars.”

“Which stars?”

“You know which one’s.”

The older woman chuckled, acting as if she didn’t for a mere moment only to cave at the sight of the small frown that filtered over the young princess’s lips. She, of course, knew which ones because they were the same stars who lined the window of your chambers every night. It didn’t matter how much the earth spun or the seasons changed; it remained in the same spot, unmoving, unaligned amongst the rest that moved with life. “Oh, you mean the Stars of L’âme?”

The Soul Stars.

The young princess nodded, her little head already filling with so many questions. You knew because it was the same expression you still got — furrowed brows and bottom lip tucked with ease between your teeth as you thought long and hard.

“My darling princess, I have told you that story many times before. You know how they came to be.”

“Yes, through a collision of energies in the form of pressure and heat.”

The former queen hummed in agreement, smile widening at the great memory her granddaughter proved to have, “And what makes them so special?”

“They formed outside of the stellar nurseries, but I just don’t understand it.”

“Understand what, my darling?”

That confused look only deepened, and you remembered fondly how the story you had forgotten until now went, the mysteries never quite aligning with reason. “How is it even possible?”

“Sometimes, even when things are possible, it doesn’t mean we are deemed worthy of knowing. Sometimes it is better for us not to know. Remember, what I told you about these stars. Though they formed outside of the stellar nurseries, they formed for a reason. A reason that only occurs every hundred years. Can you remember?”

Your heart skipped then at the thought, the memory forming behind your fuzzy mind that you hadn’t thought back to for years. The younger version of yourself smiled warmly at the thought, “Yes, every hundred years, two souls are chosen by whom we don’t know. When they are born, they seem connected just as the two stars in the sky.”

“Two lost souls,” your grandmother corrected, “That is something to remember most of all. This act is never random. This choice by the greater powers of our worlds. It is never a mere act of happening but by some sort of fate itself.”

The young princess slumped for a moment, the story, the long winding details becoming a lot for her to handle. Even the version of yourself standing off to the side of the arbor found it difficult to understand then in your adulthood. It felt as if you were hearing it all over again for the first time, and as if the force, the stars themselves, wanted to relay a message, you reached up to lay your hand over your chest.

You hesitated, unaware of what it all meant, and your stomach twisted in nervousness.

“Nona?”

“Yes?” the former queen chuckled again as the questions never seemed to cease with the little one who found her head always up in the clouds, believing in the untouchable of everything she couldn’t see but feel.

“Why have the stars never aligned? The two never seem to find each other.”

Your grandmother’s smile remained stoic, but the lines around her eyes deepened. So much so that you found yourself pushing away from the wall of the arbor just to get a better view of it. Just as she went to open her mouth, sure to answer the young princess’s every question asked, another voice boomed from just off the steps of the arbor. “Mother.”

A figure emerged, and you felt your breath fall short upon your tongue, unsure of how to even react as the looming frame of the current queen and your mother stepped within the arbor, eyes narrowed down at the sight of you cross-legged in front of the older woman.

“Mom,” the young girl sighed, slightly disappointed that she had interrupted her grandmother’s answer.

Your feet suddenly stopped, and you felt stuck in the ground, peering over at the beauty that had been your mother. The queen of Bakura, the love of your father’s life. The very person he left the Jedi order to be with. The only woman to have ever held a light to his heart other than you. She appeared so young, only ten or so years older than you were now. In all the time without her, the days passing into nights, her face had blurred, the image of her having become so unclear over the years.

Pictures were limited, and suddenly graced with her presence after so long, you couldn’t help but finally accept that your father had perhaps been right when he constantly told you how much you reminded him of her. You were almost her spitting image, and suddenly that ache returned, fully, and you had to grasp even tighter to your chest, just wishing she would turn — would see you, look you in the eyes after so long.

“Y/N, go on, your father wishes to see you?” the cold tone brought you by surprise as this was something you couldn’t remember. This side of her.

“But—”

“Go,” the queen sighed, rubbing her temple.

The young princess shared a last longing gaze with her grandmother before running off. As soon as she was gone, your mother turned to her own as the former older queen stood from where she had been sitting on an orange-knit blanket. With her arms crossed over her chest and feet tapping impatiently along the wood of the arbor, you couldn’t help but step even closer, unsure if this part was a dream or rather something else, you somehow were being granted to see.

“Why do you have to go and tell her those stories?”

Your grandmother sighed, a look of disappointment appearing, “Stories? Is that what you see them as now?”

“That is what they are,” your mother argued.

The former queen tutted softly, frown deepening at the thought, “Does the king think so too? Your husband?”

“Don’t bring him into this.”

Your ears perked up at the mention of your father, him still so apparent and so clear to you that the mention of him hurt. Your mother’s eyes darkened while your grandmother only appeared so solemn at the sight of her own daughter’s frustrations. “How can I not? He felt it from the day that she was born.”

“Mother…”

“He is a Jedi, so don’t you dare diminish it. There is something entirely wonderful here, and you are so worried about hiding it.”

With parted lips, your eyes deepened, a weird feeling washing over you. You tried to lean into it, the force, your senses, but it seemed they had no ability here. Not on these two people who no longer were alive to think these current thoughts or recant them. Instead, you could only stand there and listen, feeling as if the world was ending with each and everything they said that seemed to dance around the conflict at hand.

Your mother sighed, that anger fading into nothing but almost sadness, in despair, “We don’t know what or if there is anything here, and I’m not going to put outlandish thoughts inside my child’s head.”

“So you are never going to tell her?” Nona asked, that shame in her daughter apparent more than ever.

Your mother didn't seem affected by it, not one bit, as she shook her head, glare still settled across her beautiful face, “There is nothing to tell.”

The coldness raked a shiver across your form, and as you reached out to touch her, your mother, the person you had trusted most in all your life, you felt the scenery fade, almost melting. You were ripped away by a force you couldn’t recognize, something heavy. A small yell fell from your parted lips as your stomach sank and your head spun with uncertainty. Before you realized it, you were bolting up, a heavy breath falling from your parted lips in surprise.

It took a matter of seconds to recognize where you were. The room was dark besides the light of the moons sneaking in through the windows kept untouched by the curtains. The sheet and blankets pooled around your frame near your waist as you were raked with unsteady breaths. Sweat gathered along your brow, and your throat was tight, and it suddenly seemed the weight of the world was falling upon you. So much uncertainty and confusion at the dream that pierced you. The images so clear so vivid, of Bakura, Nona, your mother — the memory that had to have been real as you stared back almost in a mirror of the past at a young princess completely blind to the future before her.

Wiping the sweat from your hairline, you pushed back your long hair from your face and eased your breathing down to a simple inhale and exhale. Silence once again encompassed the air around you, and you felt it all slowly start to swarm your mind, almost like a carousel sure to never stop its incessant turning. You knew the noises within your mind wouldn’t stop then, at least not for the rest of the night, so you pushed the blankets even further from your frame and stood from the bed.

Finding a robe to pull over your night-slip, you left your chambers, the door closing behind you with a gentle hiss. The temple was quiet and dark, night still gracing the city in peace. The floor was cold against your feet, but you didn’t care to go back and find shoes, not when it was somehow welcoming to the immense heat you had felt when you woke up. That discomfort still lingered as you walked the empty halls, unsure of what or where to go.

Far from your chambers, near the other end of the temple, you stumbled along a corridor that wasn’t familiar and often went unnoticed by many of the Jedi within the temple as it was much narrower than the others, void of many rooms within it. Feeling like you were called to go down it, you walked steadily until you came upon a windowsill sitting right next to a large window, expanding most of the opposing wall. Peering outside, a small sense of relief almost appeared at the sight of the city before you bathed by the dark sky decorated with far too many stars. The sky has always been able to bring comfort ever since you were a child.

It seemed that could have very well been because of Nona and her stories — the ones that surrounded the stars, the planets, the unseen forces you couldn’t begin to understand how she knew about. Sitting upon the windowsill, legs outstretched and robes spilling over the edges, you stared up while the visions from the night reappeared; reminding you just how much you yourself couldn’t get what any of it meant.

There was something strange that had happened that night. You didn’t want to admit it — not even as you had felt it as the weight of your body sunk deeply into the mattress of your bed. Your breathing had shallowed out quickly, not having known when the stars and the sky of Cruscant had faded into darkness. Into the most comfortable of darknesses soon to only be replaced. Replaced far quickly. Quicker than it ever had before, as if the universe was nullifying all the former pain that had been written in deep pen across your soul.

Peering up, you found the stars, the two that seemed to never escape you — both so bright, a strange tint of light blue, and just as you had imagined them to be, they were unaligned. The upper one slightly shifted towards the left, while the lower one favored the right. You knew then it appeared just the same as always.

What are you trying to tell me?

It was a silent ask, one that weighed quite heavy, so much so you hadn’t felt it.

That familiarity that seemed to follow you around wherever you went. Instead, he was given away by his footsteps, his shoes appearing much louder than your bare feet had been. Your fingers shifted upon your knees without even realizing, the air warming around them as the voice filled your ears.

“Hey,” it was gentle, soft, as if trying not to startle you.

At the immediate familiarity, a small huff escaped your lips, eyes closing for a mere moment at the awful timing. Then as your attention returned to your surroundings, the energy of him became just as apparent as it always had been. Sighing, you opened your eyes again and turned to look within the small corridor. He was leaning against the windowsill near your feet, having come from around the corner without you even noticing.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, just as softly back, as you took in his frame, unaware you even had been doing it.

His hair was slightly mousled from sleep, the skin around his eyes red as if he had been rubbing them. Long loose pants covered his lower half while a robe was tied quickly around his waist, but not tight enough as you were able to see the bare skin of his chest peeking through. You tried to ignore the sudden stir you felt just at the mere sight alone, hoping more than anything he couldn’t sense every single thought running through your mind.

Stepping closer, the light from the moon washed over him incandescently, and you scolded yourself internally for having even noticed. Especially now that most, if not all, the frustrations towards him had faded, forming into something else entirely.

He ignored your question, instead taking in your bare feet, which led to bar legs sticking out from your robe, that familiar quirk forming along his lips, “Can I sit?”

A second of hesitation, and then you were nodding, pulling your legs up closer to your chest to give him some room. He slid up across from you, his back resting against the opposite wall, his legs following. You tried not to stare so much as he got comfortable, but you felt your throat tighten slightly as his legs widened, leaving room for your own. The windowsill wasn’t long enough, leaving the outside of your legs to press along the inside of his — your bare skin able to feel the soft material of his pants and the warmth admitting from within them.

Stare sliding up his frame quicker than you would have liked, you found him already staring over at you intently, too much so that you began to fiddle with your fingers, almost willing to start picking at them but knowing better. You didn’t want him to see how nervous you truly were, whether it was because of your dream or him, though you weren’t really sure which was at the forefront of your mind.

His knee bumped yours enough to keep your eyes on his, and you felt your confines weakening slightly, even if that meant him getting to see just what you were feeling at that moment.

“You never answered my question,” you opposed, not willing to back down then wishing to see the way his expressions shifted, “What are you doing here?”

He smirked, almost like it was inevitable to tease you at least a little bit when that furrow appeared between your brows, “You’ve been thinking awfully hard for how late it is. Though I’m not sure what about. All I know is, it was hard not to feel how upset you were from only a few halls away.”

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, unable to hold it back, “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

He laughed, unable to hold back at how cute you sounded swearing like that, and as he did, his knee bumped yours again. “No. I was already awake.”

That furrow deepend then, frowning at the mere possibility of him being unable to sleep as well. Able to read your features clearly, he sighed as if hesitant to admit it to you, though he knew the only way for the trust between you to strengthen was to be honest. You didn’t know him, not much past the sly smiles, the wit he was told by your dear master to keep to a minimum and the brief moments of softness he had displayed to you. Other than that, there wasn’t much else.

You two knew more about each other’s body language, the way their pulse quickened, or the feelingsound in the other’s head more so than the past, or much else. It hadn’t had the means to be brought up, not until then.

“I don’t sleep well anymore.”

“What do you mean?” you asked carefully, slightly shocked as it seemed you had been so consumed in your own sleeping habits lately that you hadn’t been able to feel through your senses that he had been struggling too,

“My mother,” he explained softly, knowing now he would have to explain it all to you, “It was a vision or a dream, perhaps, I’m not really fucking sure. But somehow, she was in my arms, and she was dying.”

“Anakin,” you gasped, “How long ago was this?”

He shrugged, “A week or so ago. They’ve only become more frequent since then. These dreams of my mother.”

Your face softened, eyes widening slightly. His stare never wavered from your own as he reveled in your reactions. He had been holding it in for so long, silently dealing with this pain, this fear. You had only agreed to stay a month or so ago, and he didn’t want to do something that might weaken this sudden bond you two had seemed to have.

“Where is she now?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Tatooine.”

Your brows lifted then at the name of the planet, one of many you had studied immensely in your time of preparing to be queen. It required a lot from you, having to understand the political issues that overtook them all, their forms of government, and the allies and enemies of each. Upon hearing that name, you couldn’t have even imagined that Anakin had possibly been from Tatooine.

“Tatooine, so she’s…”

He nodded, “A slave? Yes. I was too. And then, when I was nine, I met Qui-Gon, and we struck up a deal. If I won the Boonta Eve Podrace, and he betted on me, he would have enough money to buy my freedom.”

“And you won?” you smiled softly, unable not to as this was the first time you were hearing about his childhood. A childhood that wasn’t perfect, was different than your own, but was him. It was something you had found yourself wondering about for months now; where was he from, what were his parents like, what kind of kid was he? All of these questions, you felt too afraid to ever ask — worried what the answers would be.

“And I won. Then he brought me here to train under Obi-Wan. It’s been ten years, and I’ve thought about her every day since I left. I promised I would go back for her, but…”

“The code,” you finished for him, cringing slightly at the thought.

Relationships and attachments were forbidden, even among parents and children.

“I would. I want to more than anything. I just haven’t had the opportunity. I know how fucking awful that sounds. It truly is—”

“Stop. It’s not. I get it,” you said cutting him off while also reaching forward without even realizing to place your hand on his knee. It was warm and reminded you so much of the day that he had taken your hand in his, the day he had convinced you to stay. The day he silently promised you he could be the one person to trust.

He traced the small touch with his blue orbs, one of the first touches you had ever initiated on your own. You bowed your head slightly, a flush appearing along your cheeks, suddenly second-guessing how natural it had all felt. Feeling inclined to retract your hand, a small smile appeared along his lips, one that was different than you had ever seen before. It was a look you wished to see for as long as possible, so you decided against pulling away.

“One day, you will rescue her. Promises aren’t taken lightly when it’s a Jedi making them. You meant your word, and I know at the first possible chance you will do as you say.”

He nodded, a calmness now falling over him he hadn’t been able to grasp since he had woken up in a cold sweat, panic seeping throughout his body, eyes unable to look or find anything to hold his attention long enough to forget about the crumpled form of his mother. Not until suddenly, you were sitting in front of him, touching him the way you were while saying all the things he needed so desperately to hear. He couldn’t help but react by covering your hand with his own, the warmth encapsulating the coldness of yours in a gentle squeeze.

“And what about you?” he asked, drawing your stare away from your joined hands.

“W-What about me?” you stuttered lightly, hating how something as simple as his hand could pull such a reaction out of you.

“Why are you awake? What has gotten you so worked up that I felt I had to come find you?”

Though he wasn’t wrong, you hated that he put it that way. As if he needed to come in and save you at every chance he got — all to silence the many demons that filtered in throughout your head. You didn’t like the thought, the idea of depending on him so much, that he could feel exactly what you were feeling. How much further would it go?

None of this made sense. The force didn’t make sense. Anakin didn’t make sense. The way he cared about you was too much, and sometimes you wished more than anything you could sever this connection with the hope that he didn’t have to feel so obligated to protect you all the time. That night and that dream only made it all worse.

If it were true, you didn’t know what you were going to do.

“Y/N?” Anakin asked, his thumb beginning to rub gentle circles on the back of your palm and you hated how your pulse began to speed up at the small action. He could sense your apprehension paired with the look in your eyes, the fear of saying anything at all.

“I—uh— don’t even know how to make sense of what tonight was.”

“Just try.”

You inhaled, that furrow returning between your brows and a hand running through your hair, unsure of how much you could even say. What did you even know? “I thought it was a dream, but now I think it might have been a memory maybe — something I haven’t thought of in years.”

“Okay…” he replied carefully, trying to communicate in every way that he was fully listening to whatever you had to say.

“I was somehow in Bakura within the backyard of the capital in our arbor. It was green and full of life and so, so beautiful. And Nona, my grandmother was there telling her stories, some that I always told myself to not believe. I was eight, sitting there just listening to every single thing she said. I forgot how young I used to be and so happy. I had never seen myself like that, and it was the strangest thing,” you laughed sadly, eyes glassing over slightly as the images of that night seemed to resurface, appearing just as they had been in the moment, “It was like I was even there, Anakin but almost a ghost, watching it all.”

Anakin, with his hand still wrapped around yours, was leaning forward, eyes never wavering as he listened and tried to make sense of it. His brows knit together as he tried to make sense of you. As you met his eyes then, you felt your breath almost fall short at how intently he was staring.

Inhaling, that smile dropped slightly, “Nona was telling me some story about the stars. The Soul Stars, she called them. This one always felt different from all of the rest, as if everything she said was true. I was asking her a question about them, but then my mother appeared, and she sent me away to find my father. That was the last thing I could remember and where the memory should have ended, with me running off towards the capital, but it didn’t. Instead, I found myself watching them, the way they argued, about me, about something they were keeping from me. So, I don’t know if this was merely a dream or…”

“Or something else. Something the force could be trying to tell you,” Anakin finished your unspoken thought, your two expressions appearing so similar as you tried to realize what exactly could be occurring, between his dream and your own.

“It sounds crazy, I know, but it felt so real and so familiar. If I had known sooner, years ago, maybe I could have set this all straight, but my mother died not long after that, and now I can’t help but wonder. Wonder if she was hiding something? If m—my father knew.”

“It’s not crazy,” he said, hand loosening around yours, just enough for his fingers to intertwine with yours. He pulled on them gently. “Not at all.”

“How could any of this be possible?”

“Sometimes it just is. There’s no explanation, no possible reasoning. Impossibilities are possible until proven otherwise. Master used to always tell me that when I first became his Padawan. Being a Jedi, the ability to move things with your mind, know what others are feeling, thinking — none of it should be possible, and yet it is our reality.”

You hummed, peering out of the window once more at the pair of stars. Could it really be? Two souls connected so immensely. But what did that mean? Connected. What did any of it mean?

It was as if he could hear your thoughts then, and maybe he had because he was whispering your name so softly while pulling on your fingers again to draw your attention. Eyes finding his again, you melted slightly at the sight. The way his brows were raised, a look that was so warm reflecting off his face, and a slight lift of his lips.

“I feel like there could be something wrong with me,” you admitted, and he couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound deep, felt throughout your own chest as if it had been you who was the one who made the noise and not him.

That warm expression seemed to only deepen, forming into the most beautiful smile while he reached forward, his fist bumping lightly along your chin. You tried to ignore the way it lingered there for a second longer. “There is nothing wrong with you. That’s a ridiculous thing to say.”

“But—”

“But what?”

Holding back, you bit onto your lower lip, unable to say anything more. Because what else was there to say? What else, when you didn’t know everything there was to know? Other than the strange feeling you got within the middle of your chest and at the bottom of your stomach whenever he was around somehow dimming all the anger you once had to almost nothing.

“Y/N, you’re doing well. So well.”

“Anakin…” you trailed off, but he only silenced you with a narrowed look and another squeeze of your cold palm.

“Don’t try to diminish anything that I’m saying. You’re too hard on yourself.”

“Perhaps I’m just cautious. Waiting for something to happen or waiting around for the day that I finally fuck up, and become someone worth being disappointed in,” you explained, suddenly unable to withhold his touch, the way it could have muted every fear to ever appear within your mind — you felt unworthy of him, of his kindness then, enough so you pulled your hand away instead to pick at the skin around your nails.

He watched this, his stomach twisting with discomfort at your need to retreat, at your need to cause your fingers to bleed. “I wish you didn’t think that way.”

“Well, I’m afraid, Anakin. I don’t know how else to think of it. There is no other way to. I’m afraid of what I might do.”

You were staring down at your fingers, unable to look up at him, too nervous to, and in doing so, you focused on the loose skin around your nailbeds. Silence hung in the air as you pulled at the skin, enough for it to tear and start bleeding from how deep you truly had dug with your fingernail.

“Stop that!” he scolded, voice thick, deeper than you had ever heard it as he reached forward, yanking your hand away but back within his own. He stared at the blood, the way it flowed, sure to drip off your finger at any moment. “There is no need to be afraid. I will protect you. Since the first day I met you, I’ve known. Known that I could and always will protect you.”

The question was slipping from your parted lips as if he was pulling them from you. “Could you protect me even from myself?”

A moment, this prolonged pause of time stilled by the mere sound of his soft breath and the knitting of his brows. There was a small frown evident upon his pink lips, as if he was truly able to feel every insecurity, every ounce of fear that could be felt from your end; every inclination of uncertainty that flooded your body, your sole being. He could feel it all, and within that pause, those few seconds, his hand once again tight around yours he was filled with the most conviction you had ever seen

“I know it doesn’t seem like it all of the time, but I would do anything to keep you safe.”

How in a matter of months had it come to this? You weren’t sure. To see through your eyes what the two of you were, none of it could have been true, cruel intentions masked by the simplest affections. That’s what it had become. A lie behind your visions, distracted by his handsomeness and the mere enticingness that came from his smirk or the color of his eyes when they found yours from across the room. It could have not been real. That idea can’t be the most plausible but a figment of what you wish could be.

A Jedi shall not know anger.

Nor hatred.

Nor love.

You had experienced two in the span of a few weeks within your training, and now you couldn’t help but worry you would fall victim to the last as well. The last of the forbidden causes that came with being a Jedi. You couldn’t. Not when you had come as far as you did; in your training, in your ability to trust, in the ways of simple living that came with being one with the force. There wasn’t room for any more. There wasn’t room for Anakin Skywalker, and yet he was always there. Almost like a lightsaber to your hip, a protector as he claimed to be, but also the young man who would find ways to scare you, making you jump as he snuck up behind you. He also was the man who would tease you any chance he could as if the sight of you rolling your eyes or your brows furrowing was the only sight he wished to ever see.

He wasn’t insufferable as you once had deemed him to be and never cruel but thought of himself highly enough to still throw half-witted comments towards you anytime you were training even with Master present, more so if he was present. You thought he had been everywhere before, able to feel him all of the time, but that was minuscule compared to now, compared to how this connection had forged the two of you into the ability to feel so close it was as if you were sleeping next to one another. Sometimes, you swore you could hear his heart beating or the gentle lull of his breath, on rare occasions, he could actually sleep throughout the night. It was only on those few nights when he wasn’t with you.

It had become a habit, you had found, to be seated within the small corridor of the temple, sitting upon that damn windowsill, legs always pressed against one another. You had found you didn’t sleep well anymore either. It wasn’t even that you were having more visions, memories, or dreams but that you were kept up late at night by just the single mysteries of the one and how it seemed to coincide so much with how you felt about the young Skywalker.

A Jedi shall not know love.

And yet you found him to be breaking through every single resolve and healing the deepest parts of sadness you hadn’t even known were there. He made you happy, and that was the greatest weakness to have, even if it had made you a better Padawan, even as it had made you a strong Jedi.

It was so much easier when you were angry, you realized. When he had you burning from the inside out and willing to hit him with training sticks because it meant you didn’t know this. This feeling.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

The voice was gentle but firm as his frame leaned over your back where you were sitting, lips close to the shell of your ear. He was far louder than he should be for the library. Leaning forward over your shoulder, his hand found the table while his waist pressed up against your back. Your breath stilled for a moment, the words in the book almost blurry to the point of no longer being able to read them.

It seemed he had found you, hiding away within the shelves of the library in the Jedi Temple. You were sat at a small table, a few books sprawled out, trying to make use of the minimal spare time you had before your next training session with master. With trials at the end of the year, there was almost no time in the evenings outside of meditation, or practices to really study the code or material. At least that’s what you had told yourself until he had appeared feeling so warm as he loomed over your frame.

You didn’t dare move but instead kept your position of sitting straight within the chair, eyes cast down at the book before you on balance and the molecular configurations of the force. It was difficult, though, as his hand and his eyes could be seen from your peripheral.

“Hello, Anakin,” you replied, a voice at a lower level, aware of the many other Padawans and Jedis that crowded other tables outside of between those two shelves.

He huffed, aware of your ignorance towards his previous statement, and instead leaned over further to get a look at the book that was open on the table. He let out the same noise when he realized what you were reading while his chest somehow was now brushed up against your neck and temple. You leaned away slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of his cologne that stuck to his tunics.

“What are you doing in here?” he grumbled as he pulled back from you and instead took a seat in the chair next to yours, but not without scooting closer to your side enough that his knee bumped yours every time his leg moved.

With his chair angled towards you, his elbow pressed up along the tabletop, you couldn’t help but peer over at him innocently, already making a note of the frustrations that filtered along his face as he leaned against his closed fist. He was already staring at you, and it made you raise a brow in interest.

“It’s the library.”

“Yes, I know that but we have like thirty minutes until our next training session with Master.”

“Which is why I am studying,” you said matter of factly.

“Y/N,” he whined then, louder this time, making you glance around the two of you suddenly embarrassed.

“Anakin, the trials are at the end of the year and I am behind.”

“You’re not that behind.”

You sent him a stern look, “You have been training to be a Jedi since you were nine, you know everything there is to know for the trials. I have at most a year to learn what you have gotten to learn in the last ten.”

“You know there is no fucking set timeline on when you need to become a Jedi, right? They hold trials every year. You don’t have to take them this year, which I am sure none of the council really would be expecting you to.”

Your throat tightened at the mere thought of being a Padawan without him, “I know that, but if I could take them this year, I would like to.”

He watched you intently the seriousness to which you said it, but as he sat there thinking, looking at you, he couldn’t help the thought that appeared. Or how it led to that smirk of his forming and that deadly glint that seemed to fill his eyes too often. “Oh, I see what’s going on here.”

“What?” you sighed, knowing even if you didn’t wish to entertain his advances, he would send them your way anyway.

“You’re worried about still being a Padawan when I pass the trials. Because then I could someday have the ability to be wise enough and be granted by the council to become a Master myself. Which means on instances where Master Obi-Wan won’t be able to meet you for lessons or training, he might ask me to fill in,” he teased, unable to hold back the steady chuckle from his chest at the mere thought or the look on your face that could only resemble both embarrassment and slight frustrations.

“Anakin.”

“It would be quite a sight, wouldn’t it. Me, Master Skywalker, with you, Padawan Y/L/N,” he shook his head, humming in satisfaction, “Now, that is something that would be fun.”

“First of all, you know that’s not plausible because Master would not ask someone else to train me in his absence, and second of all,” you paused, turning more towards him and leaning close enough that his eyes flickered across your features in interest, a look of playfulness of your own forming, “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His tongue clicked along the inside of his cheek, a look of satisfaction forming enough for you to bow your head to peer back at the page you had reread at least twice already before he had interrupted you.

There were two seconds where you were able to find your initial place when, “So, are we getting out of here or what? I mean shit.”

You sighed then eyes finding his again but yours suddenly resembling a gentle glare.

“We have a half-an-hour. Let’s go do something fun.”

“You mean something that would get us into trouble,” you corrected, unable to stop the urge to do as he says. To close that book and leave it on that table just to follow him wherever he asked.

“Not exactly. Is that what I was referring to?”

You chuckled dryly, “They are one and the same, Anakin. Besides, you see me every waking moment of every day as well as at night. Aren’t you able to separate from me for at least thirty minutes so I can read at least two chapters?”

“Two chapters on the molecular configurations of the force. Seriously, this over hanging out with me? Really? I can say that doesn’t sound that fucking appealing. Plus, you’re wrong. I haven’t spent every waking moment with you because I didn’t see you last night. Or the night before.”

“I was sleeping,” you replied quickly, it sounding completely and utterly false the second it fell from your parted lips. Lips that had suddenly seemed to have Anakin’s attention. It made you shift within your seat, unsure if what you were seeing was actually real.

He chuckled again, his tongue poking within the inside of his cheek, his jaw tightening slightly as matched your stare, “And now you’re just lying. I’m sorry, my lady, but it’s not quite a good look on you, so I’m afraid I am going to have to apprehend you from this boring ass library and take you with me.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him then, a smile forming on your lips, unable to hide any of it as he stood from the chair. A cocky grin accompanied that young handsome face of his as he barely glanced away from your form to close the book with a small thud.

“You’re ridiculous you know that.”

“No, I’m just better than you,” he said then, that smirk never ceasing as his stare once again flickered down to your parted lips smiling for him nevertheless, “Now, come on, I’ll make your time somewhat useful, and show you how to do my backspin with the lightsabers. Maybe, then you can get used to the idea of Master Skywalker.”

You didn’t have any more grievances then, only able to stand and follow him through the library, somehow at a loss of how something that felt like this could be so wrong in the eyes of the people who were deemed good.

“You’ve been doing very well, Y/N. Everything that a young apprentice should be,” Master Obi-Wan complimented, glancing at you briefly from the corner of his eye as he continued walking ahead with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Thank you, Master,” you responded, voice a mere mumble as you stared forward at the Temple’s garden before you, seeming to be one of the few things that remained untouched by the city.

It was fresh, luminous, shades of bright green with looming trees and large bushes, many decorated with the most beautiful flowers and arches. It was something you had been desperately needing, some fresh air, some wisdom from the older Jedi, having been nothing but stuck in your head for most of the day, which appeared like most days.

Anakin had done what he had promised and spent all of his thirty minutes of free time before training, showing you how to successfully engage in his backspin, unable to keep the Master Skywalker jokes to a minimum. Though you had only landed the move twice, you couldn’t help the way your face ached from the smile that never dared to disappear at the sight of him.

It was something Obi-Wan had noticed as he had watched from the hallway for a few minutes before entering for the training session. He was taken aback at first — at that look upon your face, the smiles, the lingering stares, the soft touches Anakin always engaged in first. It seemed he had been a little blind himself those past few months, lost in the bliss of his two Padawans finally getting along because perhaps it was more than he realized, more than a sense of camaraderie, more than just a bond among Jedi.

He could see trouble looming — looming over his trusted apprentices, over the closest thing that had resembled a son, the chosen one. It was the same trouble that seemed to be mirroring your face then. As if the solemness had returned upon the young Skywalker’s absence.

“You are quiet,” Obi-Wan observed, stopping at the fountain near the middle of the garden.

You hadn’t even realized you had walked that far.

“I’m sorry?” you asked, seeming to not have heard him the first time.

“You’re quiet, my Padawan.”

You bowed your head slightly in shame that you had found your mind drifting, so much so you were unable to listen to Obi-Wan for more than a few minutes.

“You’re deep in thought. Pondering such things I cannot know, so speak.”

“I’m afraid that I am behind in my training,” you admitted then, the very thing you had been admitting to Anakin over and over again deep into the night.

“Behind? I would say you are advancing quite well. Just as I would expect you to be.”

“But not fast enough to be ready in time for the trials.”

At your confession, Obi-Wan fully turned to face you then, no longer content at staring at the foliage around the two of you but instead the worry that elapsed across your soft features. “The trials? You wish to participate in the trials this year?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Y/N, that has never been done before, do you understand that? Padawans require years of training to ever reach the mental and physical competence to become a Jedi. You are lucky the council granted our ask for you to become a Padawan at all. It has never been done to even accept someone at your age.”

“I understand, it’s just—”

“It’s just Anakin,” he cut you off, the name falling freely then from Obi-Wan’s lips, and it was enough to stun you momentarily.

“Anakin?” you asked confusion showing.

“I see how close the two of you have gotten. There is a connection there between two Padawans I have yet to see, maybe ever. Far different than I can say your father and I were. It would be hard, I know, to imagine him passing the trials, possibly leaving to engage in war, or traveling to protect those that require him.”

“Master I…”

“It’s a connection I hope I haven’t mistaken for fondness. I would hope your feelings wouldn’t cloud your judgment or even his. He is the chosen one with a responsibility to end this war. You know better. I have taught you. Jedi shall not know love,” he lectured, each and every word diminishing every confidence you had had before, every thoughtful task that didn’t have anything to do with the chosen one.

You smiled awkwardly then, suddenly feeling as if you were being looked at under a microscope at risk of being accused of distracting the very Jedi that this war depends on. “I can assure you, Master, that love is not a word to use here. Not even close. This isn’t about him, sir. He has been a comfort, I will not deny that, but to assume I would ask of this because of him is…”

The truth was you hadn’t thought much about that, last night when you lay awake. It had been a passing thought, one you couldn’t focus on — the inevitable that would certainly lead to the two of you apart one way or another with a certain strain on this newfound connection you were still trying to explain.

“What is it then, Y/N?” he asked, a single brow raised, certainly surprised by my recollection of his words and your choice of response.

“It’s just I can’t fathom the thought, the thought of wasting away most of my twenties being an apprentice, this young Padawan who has yet to accomplish anything. I want to be able to be active, make a change, have a voice, and teach. I was made and brought up to be a queen. I can’t possibly let that be a waste.”

He tutted softly as if thinking, as if wondering just how exactly to advise to bring about a lesson to our words. You weren’t sure if he completely believed you or if he could ever see past the evident connection you and Anakin had formed, whatever it may be, but you couldn’t also deny the small ache that had been lingering almost in the wake of where that anger and grief used to gather.

“It would not be a waste, my young princess,” Obi-Wan said, the title you hadn’t heard in so long, hurting even worse, “You see, it’s not about when you do it; when you teach, make changes, become this unstoppable figure the rest of the senate and council will listen to. It’s not about when but that you just do. Being young won’t make you any more respectable than if you accomplished any of it at my age or even older.”

You couldn’t look away, especially as the kindness and deliberation were seen through his eyes. There was such a care you hadn’t expected from him, not yet, at least not like this. And yet he also had the ability to disappoint you completely as he sighed, the worst admission granting your ears, “But with that being said, I don’t think you will be ready for the trials. I can try my best to teach you everything I know, but I would advise you to wait.

It’s a connection I hope I haven’t mistaken for fondness. I would hope your feelings wouldn’t cloud your judgment or even his. He is the chosen one with a responsibility to end this war.

Jedi shall not know love.

You hated it. You hated how Obi-Wan could even assume that of you. To love Anakin? It seemed impossible. It had only been months. Some of which were unpleasant. The others, you were still very well trying to wrap your head around. Then most of all to assume you would want to participate in the trials to remain close to him. How could he even think all of that? That when you hadn’t even the ability to confirm if there was a connection that was more than what either of you had been told.

You had tried, retired to the library so many times. Just hoping you could find anything on the Stars of L’âme. Anything that could explain the story, the myth, the possible scientific evidence to its existence, but to no avail, you came up short-handed because how could the Temple have anything that could even allude to love. It wouldn’t.

Enough so you were left in your chambers staring up at the ceiling once again, unable to sleep, unable to even shut your mind off long enough to succumb to darkness. It would be far too kind to you then, far too inviting. You needed it based on the dark circles that were starting to appear. It had to have been past midnight, sure to be even two but you couldn’t know for sure as you were completely unable to move or look anywhere else but the paneling of the ceiling.

That is until a knock sounded on your door. It was soft but loud enough to rip through the silence and your solid gaze. Sitting up slowly, you found yourself unable to move from the confines as if needing to know you weren’t hearing things. A second passed, and then two before the knock sounded again. This time slightly louder. Sliding from the bed, you walked across the room to the front door, unable to deny how cold the floor felt along your bare feet.

You pulled the door open without so much as another thought, and it opened with a small hiss, the compressions releasing from how they were locked. Dim lights streamed in from the hallway, and you had to blink a couple of times for your eyes to adjust, and as they did, you exhaled, almost expecting it.

Anakin peered up at the sound of the door, and his smile faltered for a moment at the sight of you. Whatever he was going to say seemed suddenly lost and rather replaced by the way his lips parted with ease, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, no longer meeting your own. It was then that you realized you hadn’t grabbed a robe to pull on over your night dress before answering the door. As if you were too desperate that you had to eliminate the barrier between the two of you.

It seemed he hadn’t been expecting it either with the way he traced the cream silk with ease, voice lost, even more so as they rose to meet where the dress dipped a little too low upon your chest. It was the first time he had ever seen you in a dress, or something that was less than the robes or training shirts you often wore. Even on nights where the two of you were sat in the windowsill, a long robe, usually one of his old ones covered the rest of you from not only the coldness of the empty hallways but his stare as well.

Dipping even lower, they traced how the material hugged your waist, sinching slightly to the way it draped off your hips. Your bare legs were smooth, even with the minimal light he had in the hallway. He knew there was no mistaking any of it, though, even the initial dip within the valley of your breasts.

He appeared in loose pants and a long tunic, no robe, but still dressed as you usually found him, and there was no denying how it always made you feel. Clearing your throat, those blue eyes snapped up to meet yours, and the way a light dust of pink had appeared along the apples of your cheeks.

“You’re awake,” he surveyed.

“Yes,” you admitted with ease, knowing there was no point in lying as he would know.

“You’re awake,” he repeated, eyes tracing the expanse of your neck and the way your hair framed your face, “And you’re not at the window.”

“Anakin,” you protested but he wouldn’t let you get a word in as his moment of stuntedness seemed to fade quickly, “That makes night number three. Looks like you could be avoiding me.”

“I’ve been trying to get some sleep. It’s been days, you know since I’ve had any.”

He hummed, no longer ashamed in the way his eyes raked your form, unable to really ignore the way his body was so willing to react to yours, “You’ve been awake for at least an hour. Usually, it won’t take you that long to fall asleep if you’re really willing to try, and I waited at least twenty minutes to see if you would before coming to your door.”

He knew that he had you. You knew that he had you. So much so that you signed almost in defeat, arms crossing over your chest without even thinking much of it. “Okay, so what do you want?”

His eyes flickered down but only for a second, perhaps half of one, before meeting your gaze once more, that charming look about him forming again. He smiled, “I want you to grab a robe. There’s something I’ve been wanting to show you.”

“It’s late,” you surveyed, peeking slightly around him to peer into the dark hallway void of anyone else.

“And?” he asked, raising a brow as he sarcastically replied, “It’s never stopped you before.”

You huffed loudly then, knowing there was no way for you to convince him to turn, leave your doorway, and retire to his own room for the rest of the night. He was there, and he knew what he wanted, which was for you to follow him out into the dark corridors. To anyone else, it was almost him asking for trouble, but you could never deny someone as painstakingly handsome as him, especially if it meant you got a few extra hours where his attention belonged to you and you alone.

It was something you come to find you were jealous of and wish to have more of — his eyes, his attention, his looming voice. You wanted it all.

“Fine,” you mumbled, turning on your heels quickly to walk over to where the robe you had been wearing earlier in the evening while you were getting ready hung up behind another door. It happened to be one of Anakin’s old ones; it was too small to fit him now.

You took it quickly and slipped it around your shivering frame, and as you turned, you found Anakin poking his head in through the wide-open door, eyes suddenly transfixed on the room as he tried to take it all in. It was a room he had never been in, this place that was yours.

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Smile as you followed him out into the dark corridors, knowing then, and always you would probably do whatever he asked of you.

“Where are we going?” you asked, trying to keep up with his long strides, almost inclined to reach out for his hand.

Anakin looked over at you, smirking lightly, “Why would I tell you? You’ve been ignoring me for a few nights now. It’s more fun watching you squirm.”

“Right, of course, it is.”

Noticing the small worry line that appeared between your eyebrows, he couldn’t help but laugh down at you, unable to keep from bumping his shoulder into yours, “Relax, will you? It’s nothing serious. I think you’ll like it, actually.”

With that, a silence lingered, setting it between the two of you. You weren’t sure of what else to say, or if there was anything else to say, so you merely followed him as he led you further and further into the temple, away from your chambers and the emptiness that was your bed. There was no comfort to you then with your silent thoughts other than the gentle brush of his fingers along the back of your palm every once in a while as you walked. The first time it happened, surprising you to the point of looking over at him to find him still staring forward as if he hadn’t felt it at all, and maybe he hadn’t.

It was at least a three-minute walk until his steps had slowed down, making their way through the darkness with you slightly behind. Rounding the corner of an empty hallway in the East Wing of the temple, he continued down it until he stopped about three-quarters of the way until he was in front of a large metal door. It towered over him slightly but not by much. Reaching forward to the keypad, he glanced at you over his shoulder quickly, a small smile of his forming at the sight of you peering up at him in anticipation.

He chuckled, the sound gracing your ears as he input the code, followed by the pound key, which let out a short-lived beep matching the green light that flashed as the door decompressionized. A small hiss sounded from the steam, and you felt your pulse spike. This room was on higher lockdown than most, you realized. One you hadn’t ever been in, and if you hadn’t ever been, maybe you shouldn’t be.

If it were any other time, you would have stopped him and asked if you should be doing this, but you couldn’t care. Not when Obi-Wan had accused you of going against the code as well as not being a good enough Jedi to participate in the trials. You were tired of doing what was expected of you over the past six months, not when you felt so much more with Anakin, even if it was as simple as sneaking off at night.

Stepping past the threshold of the door, you were once again confined into darkness, having quickly lost Anakin as his footsteps echoed further into the vast room. “Anakin?”

“Just turning on the lights,” he answered smugly as the door closed behind you, locking once the door had snuggly sat within the doorway.

It was cold, and the first thing you noticed among your bare legs was the floor, surely metal panels underneath your shoes. The room was completely void of any windows, and it wasn’t until you heard the click of a switch before golden light pooled from the ceilings that you knew where Anakin was. As the beams appeared, you blinked for a moment, adjusting to the new soft light; it dimmed slightly but still enough for you to find Anakin just a few feet away by the light switch.

He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, taking you in as you suddenly began to look around the room. It was larger than you would have expected and dull, with boring walls and cold floors. Dull all but for the many things that seemed coated around the room, some nestled into piles, others left alone. A room you truly had never been in, and you knew then why. It was a room for the children, the younglings, the Jedi who are so young they haven’t even fully comprehended the loss of being separated from their parents. So much so that this room basically served as a fun park while they adjusted to their new environment as well as their training.

There were beams, large mats, a pit with foam blocks in it, various lightsaber training sticks, and rubber balls — all bright colors seeming to bring life into the faded room. Then right in the middle, a part of the tiled floor was removed and replaced with a rectangular mesh, almost thin pool. You had never seen something like it before, and you couldn’t help but look over at Anakin in confusion. Confusion of why, out of all of the places in the temple, he had brought you here, a place sanctioned for Jedi that was no more than ten-years-old.

“It’s for the younglings,” he spoke then, pushing himself off from the wall, his voice echoing slightly in the empty room. “Created to help ease the transition. They are taken away from all that they know; their families, their friends, some young but not young enough to have forgotten. They are still children, even more so, still capable of remembering what having fun was like.”

Pushing another light switch, another set came on around the mesh fabric, a bright blue that reminded you of the color of your lightsaber — it was neon, glowing, calling you to follow Anakin as he stepped closer to it. “This was my favorite place to be.”

You listened intently as he then kicked off his shoes, being left in socks, and stepped forward onto the mesh floor. You were holding your breath then as it dipped, almost seeming to absorb his weight, and slingshotting back up to create a small bounce under his feet.

“And this, well let’s just say it took Master hours to get me to leave.”

“What is it?” you asked walking close enough to where his shoes were left.

Moving from the center of the mesh floor, he approached the edge, sticking out a single hand for you to take, “It’s used for the younglings when they are first beginning to learn to levitate, flip, stuff like that.”

Slipping your own shoes off, you took his hand and stepped forward onto the bendable floor. You stared down, curious of the way it dipped under your weight, bent, feeling as if you were floating in mid-air with no solid ground under your feet. Anakin was laughing, you knew that much, entertained by the kid-like wonder that was appearing across your face.

With his hand still wrapped around yours, you looked up at him, a brow raised and a small smile forming along your own lips, “Now what?”

“And now we jump!”

Before you knew it, he had his other hand wrapped around yours as he jumped up into the air, bringing you with him. Your lips fell open in shock as you came back down, only to bounce back up higher than you would have been able to do on your own. A laugh escaped, it sounding so carefree and natural that Anakin couldn’t help but laugh too. The sound is enough to make your chest flutter.

You found the more you jumped, the higher you went, enough to create excitement, goosebumps to appear, and this lightness to flush your whole body. One you really hadn’t felt in years, like suddenly all of the weight you had been struggling with, compressing you into someone else entirely, was temporarily gone. All you could feel was the air shifting around you and how inevitably right it all was. How, even after nights of ignoring Anakin, it always would feel right.

And how perhaps Obi-Wan had been onto something.

It plagued your mind over the next thirty minutes with the two of you spent jumping, Anakin going as far as to do flips and different tricks he had first learned when he was nine and transferred into his training with force and levitation. You could only watch in awe with the most pure smile on your face — the world seeming to be at a standstill for just a little while.

So much so that by the time hours had passed, the two of you were lying down on the trampoline, letting the fabric leave imprints on the back of your legs and arms. You were tired. He was able to see it in your eyes but neither of you could even fathom leaving yet, not when you both were smiling the way you were at ease finally.

You were lying on your side, head balancing along the inside of your palm, facing Anakin, fully engaged in the questions he asked about Bakura — about what your favorite place was, how it was able to succeed within the capital, the political tendencies of your people. He found himself asking question after question, completely sucked into getting to know as much as possible, all because it was you. Bakura, even when it was gone, no longer levitating within space, spinning with life upon it, it was still you; in every way.

“So when you were to become queen, in simpler terms, you would have become a politician?” The question was so innocent, but you felt the grumble around the sole word. Anakin was facing you, his leg bumping yours, his body mirroring yours in the way he leaned his head against his palm, a mere few inches separating you two.

You knew how he felt about them; politicians, senators, the whole lot. He found the majority of them corrupt, even those who had established the Republic up from the ground. How could he not? He felt politics were void of anything he valued, most of all including compassion. There was no surprise when he began asking questions about your own system, a Monarchy, which in itself was just another way to rule other than the Democracy he had grown up within.

“A ruler,” you corrected.

“I find them to be the same. Though we live in a Democracy, we are ruled by politicians; indirectly, they decide how things will run, corroborate what citizens should believe or not believe, and then, with support, are able to put those things into power.”

“Maybe they are similar, but they are not the same, not really. I would have been a queen, yes, a single ruler, but it would have been more than just a title. I would have made sure of it. There is a council, you know, one like the Jedi Order or the Senate, where the royal family can lean on and have support while making decisions. I would have trusted them to help me lead, and I would have listened to those who wished to be heard and make changes within the council ship and the city,” you explained, the thoughts coming with ease as you imagined what your life surely could have been like had Bakura remained untouched, “I would have made things the way they were supposed to be.”

He didn’t say anything at first, too lost in the way you looked, that hopeful glint in your eyes diminishing quickly at the reality that set in, the loss of your power, your ability to invoke change. He could only admire you as you talked, passionately wishing to change the world.

There was a pause before he decided to reply with a light chuckle laced within his words. “That’s something a politician would say.”

“And so what?” you countered, pushing him back lightly enough that he almost fell back onto the trampoline, “What is so wrong with that? It was what I was made to become. I would have been great at it, you know. Being queen.”

“Is that what you wanted, though?” he asked then, laughter falling away to a serious ask. He was closer now, only a few inches or so apart, close enough you were able to see the different blues that appeared in his eyes and the gentle lines around the corners of his lips.

“I’m not sure what I wanted then. I wasn’t really ever asked because that’s what I would be made to be.”

He hummed then, eyes flickering down to the annoyed frown that appeared across your lips, somehow mirroring the flash of frustrations that reflected in your eyes. “And what about a king?”

“A king?” you repeated, his question taking you by surprise, to which he nodded, proving that he was indeed serious. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the thought, “Yes, well, there would have been a king. I’m sure some Lord or politician you wouldn’t like very much would have been chosen.”

You expected him to laugh or smile, perhaps smirk at the way you teased him, but he didn’t. His only response was a furrow of his brows. “Chosen? You mean like arranged?”

“Yes.”

“But your parents—”

“My parents were an exception,” you said almost solemnly as if you were reliving your previous life, just how much it resembled a sort of prisoner rather than a ruler, “My father was wise, a Jedi, who left the Jedi Council for my mother. He was different, and a kingdom can’t rely on random men to be great rulers. That’s how royal families are destroyed, and cities fall.”

There was a pause on his end, a slight inhale as his eyes began to swirl with even more questions and uncertainty at the reality of your previous life. He couldn’t help but swing his legs around and sit up, stare never wavering as a certain edge appeared in his voice then, “That day, when I… were you arranged to be married?”

You shook your head, “No. My mother hadn’t quite found anyone yet. I would imagine him, though, you know, make him up in my head and try to make it seem less awful than it really was.”

“What was he like?”

You laughed suddenly confused by his ask, “What?”

“The king? Your king?” he clarified, and at that, you couldn’t help but bow your head, a blush forming along the apples of your cheeks, suddenly feeling embarrassed by it.

“Anakin,” you protested but didn’t get very far as he sent you a narrowed look, his hand flicking at the back of yours with annoyance. “Fine.”

You took a moment, to inhale, to breathe, and remember to six months before. To when you hadn’t known him, Anakin Skywalker. To when you were just the princess of Bakura, not a Jedi, a woman able to be open to love, but only the love chosen for you. It was enough to have you make up a man, the perfect man, to whom you thought about day and night for almost two years with the hope he would end the torment that would be an arranged marriage.

“I thought of him as tall with dark curls. Light eyes that could capture my soul, it seemed, and this certain look, a soft smile about him where he seemed to always be in favor of teasing me. He would be strong-willed and willing to hold power, but not so much that he would overshadow what I thought. And also passionate, know what it’s like to feel and accept the fact,” you explained then, unable to face him or look him in the eyes as you couldn’t help but recount just what you had always wanted.

It somehow matched the young Padawan who had gone on to rescue you the day that Bakura was burning and the Jedi before you then. How had that happened? How had it been so perfect, so true, as if the stars themselves had sent him?

Anakin felt his chest tighten, at each and every word you whispered with uncertainty as if afraid. He knew, though, he could see you were telling the truth, by the mere quiver in your lip to the way you thought carefully with a crinkle in between your brows that this wasn’t something you were saying on the spot but rather what you had always thought and believed. He wanted to take your hand in his or do something to get you to look at him, to acknowledge how it all sounded then. Because he couldn’t deny the similarities, the way it felt as if you had been describing him, recounting each thing about him other than the physicalities.

A Jedi shall not know love.

He couldn’t though. He knew he couldn’t.

“And I suppose…” he trailed, pausing to watch the way your eyes flickered up to meet his again, anticipating what he was going to say next. He smirked, unable to stop himself as he said, “He would believe in the politics of a dictatorship. Support the act of one ruler.”

You stared over at him, watching as his expression shifted, a light filling his irises and the corners of his lips lifting into a smile as a laugh escaped. “You’re making fun of me.”

“No, I’d be much too frightened to tease a princess.”

At the title, the only title you had wished for him to never call you again, brought about another feeling then, one of what could only be described as warmth. One that had a small blush appearing on your face but also a need to shove him over. He could only laugh though at the sight of your embarrassment, at the way you could fold under his teasing, his touch as he reached forward to take both your wrists in his hands.

Before you could gain your footing, he had pulled you up from where you were sitting, both his arms looping around your lower back, still laughing, head dipped back slightly as he stood upon the trampoline.

“Anakin,” you warned, trying to squirm out of his grip.

It only tightened then, your feet hanging mid-air as he began to jump up on the trampoline, somehow still able to go just as high with you in his arms as he had been by himself. You were half-laughing but also half-yelling, arms suddenly around his neck as you glanced down to the ground each time you were up in the air. As he got really high one time, he pretended to let you slip from his arms, enough to get a small squeal to escape, only making him laugh harder.

“Anakin, stop, don’t do that,” you scolded, though the fall would be low, “That's not funny .”

He didn’t listen, though as the next jump up, he went to do it again, but this time, he had really lost his grip on the back of you. You began to slip enough that your stomach dropped slightly. Noticing this, he tried to take hold of you again but fumbled quickly, and before you had even realized it, Anakin was on his back on the mesh floor with you harshly falling on top of him.

An exhale was pulled from his chest at the impact, and you felt your torso ache with the collision of his own. He swore under his breath, his laughter falling short, as he grumbled, head relaxing back against the fabric. With one leg wrapped around one of his and the other thrown over his thigh, you leaned over him on your elbows, torso almost flush against his, lower body slightly straddling his.

“Anakin,” with wide eyes and a nervous lilt in your voice, you couldn’t help but remain unmoving, trying to hold as much of your weight off of him, “Ani, are you alright?”

His chest tightened, stiffening at the sound of the nickname, one that was all too familiar but just not from you. He relaxed quickly though somehow liking the way it sounded from your tongue. Then he was opening one eye up towards you and then another, trying to hold back his smile as long as he could, but upon noticing the way you were chewing on your lower lip in worry, he couldn’t help but burst out laughing, his facade diminishing quickly.

At the sound, you knew he was fine, probably had been the whole time, and you couldn’t help but also start laughing but not without punching him lightly in the shoulder. He didn’t seem to care not as his arms came up to rest along your hips, hands along your back, his head a few inches from your own, unable to do anything but listen to the way your laughter sounded. The way it had never sounded like that before ever. He wanted it to last for as long as possible, just as the feeling of you sitting upon his body. He couldn’t help though to suddenly roll, you falling back onto the trampoline bouncing slightly as he hovered over you.

A breath slipped, a steady, almost whimper as the weight of his body sunk into yours comfortably, his legs parting yours with ease. Your laughter faded, a mere giggle, and then to nothing. He followed, too, until suddenly it was silent, all but the steadiness of your breathing. He was warm, so warm, strong, his body firm against your own that it had a new feeling pooling at the base of your stomach. One you had been ignoring since you had first laid your eyes on him. But it proved difficult then as his blue irises bore down into yours, his lips glistening where he had wet them with his tongue within the blue neon lights of the room.

Your eyes flickered down to them with ease, but it didn’t last long, not as you both lifted your heads at the sound of the door decompressing at the sound of the correct code being put in. Then it was opening and you both could only lay there as the figure of your Master Obi-Wan appeared. He was reaching for his lightsaber, dressed in robes he always wore to bed, sleep still cascaded in his eyes. A look of confusion that was quickly doused and replaced with a furrow and a frown at the sight before him.

You watched as Anakin lifted one hand from where it initially was pressed alongside your head, a sheepish smile appearing across his lips as he waved. “Hi, Master.”

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #Star Wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #anakin series #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #divider by cafekitsune #banner by cafekitsune

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phoenixyfriend · 7 months ago

Text

Entry of the Gladiators

Remember my Fake Sith AU? Yeah, so I got around to writing it.

I started writing this around a year ago, planning to finish and post for an event. I never finished. So. Here's what I have so far, and let's hope I can get around to finishing it at some point lmao.

The year is 7939 CRC, and Obi-Wan is one-hundred percent not moonlighting as a Sith Lord with a drawling accent and a linen suit. And Anakin surely isn't pretending to be his unhinged Sith second. And Ahsoka definitely isn't actually a vigilante. And Cody absolutely isn't enjoying the chance to manage an entire set of organized crime rings. And Rex certainly isn't seducing the half-mad head priestess of an evil cult. Totally.

Chapter 1: Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go)

Fun fact: I went to upload the first chapter of this fic, which I started writing a year ago, and I forgot I had a title for the chapter, so I just slapped something together to put into the chapter title slot.

Then I went back to my planning document and it's the same damn chapter title.

I am very predictable.

----------

Anakin wakes up with a pounding headache. This is, against all wishes, a very familiar feeling for him. Unfortunately, it has almost never been a result of something fun, like alcohol. He’s much more likely to wake up drugged and chained by his enemies or recovering from grievous injuries than, say, boozing up.

Hondo incident notwithstanding, of course.

(Besides, Obi-Wan got drunk too. That makes it his fault.)

As he catalogues his remaining fingers and extremities past the pain in his skull, he hears others shuffling nearby. The Force isn’t warning him at all, so they’re probably friendlies.

There’s a quiet groan a few feet away, high-pitched, that is almost definitely Ahsoka.

When he sits up, it’s to more pain and the ugly little realization that Ahsoka must also be in pain.

Obi-Wan’s voice cuts in. “What did you do, Anakin?”

“Nothing!” Anakin protests, his own voice loud enough to set his headache off. He runs through his most recent memories in hopes of uncovering actual wrongdoing. He doesn’t seem to actually have any memories past entering the possibly-Sith-in-origin temple, though. That’s… a bad sign, in part because they are now outdoors and looking at a completely different sky. “You went into the sketchy temple, too. I don’t remember doing anything that could have knocked us all out, especially not knocked us out and transported us to what’s probably a different planet.”

“Sky’s orange,” Ahsoka notes, getting unsteadily to her feet. There’s a moment where it looks like she’s about to fall, but Rex is closer than Anakin, and reacts fast enough to steady her.

Anakin finally gets a full look around. His master, his padawan, his captain, and Commander Cody, who isn’t Anakin’s in any way, except as a friend, but that’s not an exclusive group, because ‘his friend’ could mean a lot of—

He’s getting distracted.

“If we’re lucky…” Obi-Wan says, stretching his back with an awful cracking noise. He eyes the sky with distaste. “If we’re lucky, the cloud cover will dissipate and let us see the constellations when night falls. We can figure out where we are then.”

“Anticipating hostility from locals, sir?” Cody prompts

Obi-Wan shrugs. “Don’t want to hedge our bets on there being locals. We aren’t where we were, and we aren’t in another temple, either. Most planets in the galaxy aren’t actually inhabited by sapient species…”

“But that’s mostly because most of them don’t have breathable air, isn’t it?” Ahsoka asks. Anakin pats her between the montrals, almost like Obi-Wan used to ruffle his hair when he was this small. Well, smaller. Ahsoka at fifteen tolerates this much better than Anakin at the same age.

Ahsoka at fifteen is, however, the same height as Anakin at thirteen, when Obi-Wan was still ruffling his hair.

“You’re right, Ahsoka. Since this planet does have breathable air and some vegetation, the chances of sapient habitation are relatively high,” Obi-Wan agrees. “So, we’ll see how it goes. If we can find civilization that isn’t hostile to us, we might get off by nightfall.”

Anakin has a feeling that’s a bit too optimistic.

(Continue on AO3)

#phoenix files #star wars #the clone wars #time travel #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #captain rex #commander cody #asajj ventress #ky narec #fake sith au

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padawanlost · 8 months ago

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What actually happened between Tru, Ferus and Anakin in that final book? I read it a long time ago but as far as I know, Anakin had not been asked to fix Tru's lightsaber, he accidentally heard them talking about it, figured out what they missed and simply didn't say anything at the moment. He planned to tell after and genuinely forgot

"All right, I fixed it." Ferus put the handle back together and handed the lightsaber back to Tru. "You shouldn't have any more problems. Your power cell is boosted." Anakin started to step forward. If Ferus had worked on the power cell, that meant that Tru needed to check the flux aperture again. Anakin had tweaked it before, but it might need an adjustment to compensate for the power boost. Anyway, it would be wise to double-check. Anakin had better tell him. But he stopped when he heard his name. "Why didn't you ask Anakin to fix it?" Ferus asked. "He's better at this than I am." "He was busy with Obi-Wan," Tru murmured. Anakin realized that Tru had evaded the question. He could have asked him to help. He frowned as he watched the two Padawans, their heads close together. Tru was drifting away from him. He could feel it. [Jude Watson. The Final Showdown]

On Korriban, while Ferus fixed Tru’s lightsaber, Anaki overheard their conversation. He didn’t know for sure the lightsaber was faulty but he believe he could do a better job because he had fixed it before and knew it better than Ferus how to adjust it. However, because of his rivalry with Ferus and his fear of losing Tru’s friendship he didn’t say anything to either of them.

Not long after they ended up in a fight and that’s when Anakin realized something was actually wrong with Tru’s lightsaber:

The creatures carved from stone that sat on the ledges took flight in shimmering images of fire and destruction. Tru ducked as one of them flew directly in his face, but the creature became nothing but particles of dust. Anakin saw Tru grip his lightsaber more tightly. Tru's lightsaber! He had forgotten to tell him to check the readout for the flux aperture! He had walked away, angry and hurt. Why hadn't he remembered? Had he wanted to forget? He couldn't do it now. If he did, the Masters would know that Tru's lightsaber had broken and he hadn't told Ry-Gaul. He would get himself and Tru in trouble. And Ferus probably had fixed it perfectly, the way he did everything else. [Jude Watson. The Final Showdown]

Not reporting a problem this big to your master was a big no-no and that’s why neither Tru non Ferus told their masters of the issue. And Anakin, in anger, rationalized that he couldn’t tell either and since Ferus was so perfect he probably could solve the problem.

Tru had leaped up on a tomb to fight two zombies. With his flexible arms and legs, he moved like a rolling wave. He took down three thermal detonators that were flying through the air. He swung his lightsaber in an arc. It flickered. Anakin watched in horror as it buzzed, the shaft flickering again and again. It was losing power! Tru was in the middle of them. Obi-Wan hadn't seen it. He had charged forward, the way to Omega now clear. Everything in Anakin screamed to follow Obi-Wan, to be in on the capture of Omega. Except one thing. Friendship. But he had hesitated too long. As he watched, Ferus and Tru exchanged a glance. Simultaneously, Ferus and Tru flipped their lightsabers through the air. Tru caught Ferus's, and Ferus caught Tru's. [Jude Watson. The Final Showdown]

Eventually Ferus and Tru exchanged lightsabers as the mission went one. When Darra, their fellow padawan, noticed Ferus was in trouble she tried to help but ended up in front of them.

Anakin wrenched his attention back to Tru. Because Ferus was watching Tru's back, he was the only one in Omega's path. The Jedi Masters had all been at the fore of the fight. Ferus's lightsaber flickered in the dark. Seeing that he was in trouble, Darra Force-leaped toward Ferus, her lightsaber held high, determined to save him. Anakin saw the smile on Omega's face when he fired. The bolts hit Darra straight in the chest. She fell, still keeping her body between Omega and Ferus. Soara cried out. Anakin felt the moment spin out into impossible time, time that froze everything, even his heart. [Jude Watson. The Final Showdown]

As a result of all this, Ferus Olin resigned from the Jedi Order and Tru ended his friendship with Anakin:

[Anakin] felt a rustle behind him, and saw Tru backing out of the chamber. "Tru!" Anakin called. Reluctantly, Tru edged in a few steps. "Do you know anything?" Tru shook his head. He didn't quite meet Anakin's eyes. "I haven't seen much of you since we've been back," Anakin said. "I know." […]"You were thinking of the mission," Anakin said. "We were all wrong," Tru continued, as if he hadn't even registered what Anakin had said. "We did our best," Anakin said. "And Omega is dead." "So is Darra." Tru turned and walked out. Anakin started after him. Something was wrong. Something had changed between him and his friend, and he didn't know why.

"But I did. I knew that Tru's lightsaber had malfunctioned. I offered to fix it secretly. I did not tell his Master or urge him to do so. His lightsaber failed in battle, and Darra was killed trying to protect me." "But you thought you'd fixed it!" Ferus stopped. He gazed at Anakin for a long moment. "You knew?" he asked. "You knew Tru's lightsaber had broken? You must have seen me fixing it." "I didn't say that." "No. You didn't. But there are only the two of us here, Anakin. You don't have to lie." Anakin said nothing. As usual, Ferus was trying to trap him, trying to show Anakin how much nobler he was. "When we got back, I took it to the Jedi Master Tolan Hing," Ferus said, naming the Jedi who was known for his expertise in the workings of a lightsaber. "He told me that that the fusing between the flux aperture and the power cell needed a slight adjustment. Nothing major — Tru might never have noticed it. Except that in battle, the power drained faster than normal." "I don't know why you're telling me this…." Tru's voice came from behind him. "Because you fixed the flux aperture. And you would have known that it needed to be rechecked after the power cell boost." Anakin turned. "You didn't come to me!" Tru shook his head. "That's funny. Shouldn't you have said, But I didn't know it was broken?" "You're trying to trap me," Anakin said. "Both of you," he added, with an angry look at Ferus. "Tru, I would never do anything deliberately to put you in a position.." Tru's face hardened. His silver eyes held a sheen Anakin had never seen before. They were icy, as though Anakin could slip off his gaze. "I wondered," Tru said. "When we got back here, I wondered if you knew. I saw how you froze in the tomb. 'But not my friend,' I said to myself. 'My friend would not do that.' But then I thought about how you feel about Ferus, how angry you had been. You would want him to get in trouble, even if it meant exposing me." "That's not fair!" "And suddenly I realized — yes, Anakin could have done that." "You're looking at this all wrong," Anakin said. But how could he explain? He couldn't admit that he knew that Tru's lightsaber was broken because he couldn't explain why he'd forgotten to tell him to readjust it. He still didn't know how he'd forgotten something so crucial. Tru would think he'd deliberately forgotten it. There was nothing he could say to convince him otherwise, because he himself didn't know. "I don't think so," Tru said. "I think I'm truly seeing you for the first time." Anakin swallowed. He didn't know what to say. This was an unfamiliar Tru, not the friend of his childhood. "I'll see you outside," Tru said to Ferus, and walked out.

Darra’s death was traumatic to all of them but the way they treated Anakin was very biased. At least, for characters who was supposed represent what a “good jedi” was supposed to be. Neither of them truly listened to Anakin’s explanation. And the author fails to give Anakin’s much depth beyond: he’s jealous/angry. I mean, it feels like everyone already knows he will become Darth Vader. And that’ so unfair to young Anakin.

#ilovescarletwitch #ask #anakin skywalker #tru veld #ferus olin #sw meta #meta: anakin #txt #mine

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phoeebsbuffay · 2 years ago

Text

Imagine Anakin Skywalker proposes you.

Warnings: smut and fluff in a very alternative universe. This means no Vader here. Light reading.

Warnings 2: no minors.

Recommendations: “Just Like Heaven” by The Cure; “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri.

***

When it all began…

It all starts with the day you find out you are having feelings for the great General Skywalker. To realize your attachment towards him crosses the field of a concern from one Jedi to another comes like a punch in your stomach.

In truth, the reason why such perception distresses you lies on your fear of feeling anything at all, particularly when he is nearby.

It takes every force of you to bury it. For your own sake—and because you know how besotted he is with that Senator whom you personally think unworthy of him, but oh well—you keep it to yourself.

So it’s Saturday and you have been released of your missions, though coming back from planet Y/C costed you good nights of sleep and a great deal of being scowled by Master Windu for your recklessness. Yet here you are, at the gardens, when you…feel him close.

Anakin has not been obnoxious to you, though. You ignore that his eyes have been following you more than often—-to the point where Ahsoka rolls her eyes everytime you are around and he is distracted—, that he’s been jealous of how you speak kindly to other men, or even so how annoying it is you cannot tell his fondness for you.

He is also a very observing man. That being said, he’s noticed your change of moods, he’s felt the nights you’ve been sleeping unwell, and what is more hurtful is that you don’t come for him to confide your fears like he does to you. Even though Anakin knows how you feel for him, he somewhat hopes you give the first steps.

So here he is. Leaning against the wall, his blue eyes are set on you, admiring the shades of y/c that color your hair, your y/c skin and the robes that reinforce your curves. Anakin holds back a sigh, and it is only when he comes closer that you joke:

“What’s up, Skywalker? What mischief are you up to today?”

“No big deal”, he lies down over the grass, not too far from where you are. Your eyes remain closed and he smirks at you. “Why are you assuming I am up to no good?”

You try to remain serious, but the moment he says that, your lips part in a smile.

“Because you are always annoying Obi-Wan. But since the corridors have been quiet, I’m assuming you are free today?”

Anakin rolls his eyes but he too smiles.

“Yes. For some odd reason everything is quiet. No trainings or missions. I came after you because for some reason that goes beyond my understanding you’ve been a little off these days.”

That observation makes you open your eyes and Anakin can tell that his remark is the reason why your heart starts beating faster. He tries to hold back a smile, even though presumption is behind his blue eyes.

So maybe there is hope.

“What are you talking about, Anakin? Don’t go assuming things.”

“Why, it’s true, though.” He shrugs his shoulders. “The other day when I asked you a favor regarding Senator Amidala, you told me you could not do it because you’ve been already assigned to another mission. And yet I found you playing cards with Fives. I mean… Really?”

For most things you have a sharp wit, but when it comes to Anakin or men in general, you are slow. You also take time to comprehend the meaning of their actions, once usually these can be ambiguous. Hence why you don’t understand why he’s acting so jealous.

“What? How one thing is related to the other? I did have another mission to which I was assigned, and, unlike you, I wasn’t flirting with Fives.”

“I wasn’t flirting with Fives either!”

You chew your bottom lip as he rolls in the grass laughing. And to worsen your case, you say:

“No, but you were flirting with Senator Amidala!”

Now rolling to your side, he is on his elbows staring at you with those bloody blue eyes and a damn smile that makes you melt inside.

“Was I?”

A faint shade of pink paints your cheeks, and however you try to look away from his intent stare, Maker knows you cannot.

“You know damn well that you were”, you narrow your eyes at him. “Why do you think this is so funny to you, Anakin Skywalker? If you want to break the rules and get yourself expelled, it is not my problem. As long as you don’t come lamenting after my ears how the Council never… Oh, please! Stop laughing!”

It is as if you are a teenager again, always being made fun of by him. Anakin had this terrible habit of teasing you until you got seriously irritated. Seeing he’s to the point where he’s about to succeed, Anakin softens and pulls you down back to the grass as you are about to stand and leave him there.

“What do you think you are doing?”, you ask in between giggles.

It’s when your gazes cross again.

“I was never smitten with Senator Amidala, silly head.” His smile spreads as your blush deepens. “It has always been about you. You, Y/N Y/LN. You alone.”

“Oh.”

He is now dangerously close to you. Part of him is over your body, transmitting you sensations before unknown. But you choose to ignore how his arms in each side of you ignore a spark in you.

“Oh indeed”, Anakin smiles warmly. “How could you think it was about her? She is married to Senator Clovis.”

“Is she?” You don’t dare to raise your eyes for fear they might give in too much.

But that’s what he wants. So he raises your chin and slowly moves his lips against yours.

“Yes. I fell in love with you, princess.”

Any resistance is inutile, so as your hands rest in his sides, dragging him over you, you smile as you correspond the kiss.

“As I did with you, Ani.”

***

‘A secret between us’

It’s been three months since Anakin last saw you. It drives him crazy how each has gone to a different mission. Because the relationship has been kept far from the Council’s knowledge, he couldn’t even ask for you.

And before he finds courage to ask Obi-Wan about your whereabouts, he is sent to planet Y/C to investigate the death of Master Dias. It takes further three months before you and him met again.

“You could have sent me a message, you know”, you tell him right as he comes for you. It’s late night and he is in your quarters. Both of you are exhausted, having arrived mere hours earlier. “I tried to send you, but I couldn’t.”

You barely finish with brushing your hair and you feel Anakin’s arms snaking behind you. You smile before turning around to hold him closer if possible. Your hands cup his cheeks, caressing each as you dive in those blue eyes.

“I know. God damn it, I was bloody preoccupied with you, my darling. Next time I will insist to go with you.”

“Yet Anakin, I detest to be the one to remind you that our relationship is a secret that must stay only between us”, you sigh. “They cannot raise any suspicious…”

“They will not. Leave this to me, all right?”

You rest your head against his chest, embraced by his arms before pulled to kiss his lips. Anakin’s fingers are tangled in your hair, his chin rested over your chin. You two stay like this for a while before going to bed.

“How did the mission go?”, you ask, cuddled against him, voice sleepy.

Anakin smiles at your efforts in struggling against exhaustion to hear about his mission.

“Sleep, angel. We will discuss this tomorrow.” Saying so, he presses a kiss over your forehead and you both fall asleep.

As the Jedis are closer to get to Count Dooku, eventually you and Anakin are assigned to a mission together. That is when you two cross the path of General Grievous.

“I will not let you expose yourself in danger, lass.” He tells you, rather baffled by the suggestions you are bringing to defeat the enemy.

“Oh, please Anakin. I’ve been doing that long way before we…”

“No, Y/N. I am not letting you…”

You smile now fades when seeing how serious. You narrow your eyes in turn.

“Oh yes, I am, Skyguy. I never asked you to be concerned about me in first place.”

And that is precisely the most inappropriate moment for you two get in your first argument.

***

Moonlight.

You miss him ardently. This time it burns your skin, it tortures your soul. You cannot simply accept to be by his side and sleep easily; it is not enough to wait every Friday and pray for the Jedi to be asleep as you tiptoe to his quarters and talk to him until sun rises—and you pay for it by drinking lots of coffee the day after.

He too hates how far away you are from him. He detests how paradise is unreachable for him every single time you are sent away, for it makes him feel an outcast. Anakin is anguished for not breathing your scent, not tasting your tongue pairing in so perfect a rhythm against his, not dwelling in your y/c eyes. His heart aches, his soul breaks when he doesn’t hear from you for weeks.

But today, the Jedi senses a strange urge from you before even landing to Coruscant. At first it distresses him—until he comes to discover the cause of it, he is genuinely concerned about you.

However, the moment he escapes to your quarters, every anxiety dies. Engulfed in your arms, Anakin relaxes and tightens his grip around you.

“Fuck, how I’ve missed you, princess”, he mumbles, kissing your cheek and your neck, there staying, breathing the smell of roses.

“Ani”, you sigh in deep content. “What took you so long?”

“I have great news to share”, he tells you, parting the embrace so he can look at you.

Your hair is lose and you are dressing a blue nightgown with white robes partly open. Anakin cannot help but notice the swell of your breasts, seeing your nipples through the silk. He swallows hard, forcing himself to concentrate as you wait with exciting eyes.

He takes your hand and locks with his before taking a seat at the edge of your bed.

“What is it?”, you ask him, sounding louder than you’d like.

“Good news await us. Count Dooku is defeated and so the plan to knock down the Republic has been discovered.”

You raise a hand over your mouth, shock stamped in your features.

“Holy Maker, Ani! So does this mean we found out who the Sith Lord is? And what his intentions are?”

Anakin flashes a smirk, but by this time his mind has already left the main point behind.

“Can we please discuss this later? I miss my girlfriend.”

You blush lightly.

“Why, please. I’ve missed you too, Anakin.” As you dwell in those blue eyes, you feel your heart lighter and every disturbance that sparks in your body disappears. “Maker knows how much.”

Before he reads well into you, you put your arms around his neck and lean to kiss his lips. What starts as a make up session begins to evolve to something more.

“I don’t think you know how much you mean to me”, you tell him, letting your hands play with his curls before slipping to his cheek.

As his hands move to your shoulders, promptly removing your robes before rubbing your arms delicately as if you are a fragile thing, Anakin bites your bottom lip and says:

“I cannot live apart of you, Y/N. You are mine.”

You shiver at how possessive his words sound to your ears, it turns you on.

“Please, show me how”, you beg him, sensing his smirk against yours.

“So this is what has been troubling my princess?”, he asks you, now parting the kiss to look into your eyes only to find out how needy you are by getting lost in them. Holding your chin, Anakin senses the power you delegate to him. “Tell me, love, you’ve been burning, haven’t you?”

Anakin moves further to your bed. He opens lightly the curtains of a widow so the moonlight helps illuminate your quarters in an old fashion way.

All the whilst, he makes you sit in his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist before he slowly rests his hands over your thighs, moving them to remove your nightgown and tossing aside.

“Fuck”, he curses lightly. Instead of feeling shy, you feel yourself wet under his intent gaze. “You are gorgeous, angel. So beautiful. So ethereal.”

Beneath his words, a spark that ignites a fire. You pursuit his lips, famine for his touch, starving for his affection. Anakin smiles when feeling all of the sentiments you’ve been trying to placate…rather unsuccessfully.

He then flips you carefully, going on top of you just after your desperate hands toss away his clothing.

“Looks like you got me on fire”, you whisper, parting your lips as you moan when he starts to get intimate with you.

“We are burning together tonight, my love. I promise you”, he kisses your neck, slipping his tongue in one trace to your full chests. Anakin devours each nipple, holding you against him in such a dominate manner that you can only plead for more.

And he slowly complies to your demands, though he tortures you with his fingers…and then with his mouth, eyeing you as he eats you out. Yet, when you are about to come undone, he goes back to you, shushing your protests with a fiery, passionate kiss.

“Love me”, you beg him.

Because he knows of your needs, tonight is your night—as much as you try to please him too, he wants to make this night a very special one.

“I love you”, he whispers as he locks hands with you.

When your eyes meet and your bodies lock, your souls speak. It’s all perfectly synced.

***

The proposal.

By waking up by your side is the moment Anakin realizes he is no longer content with this secretive relationship of yours. He wants more. It’s when he decides to make you the future Mrs Skywalker. One question remains, though: how?

As you open your eyes and find yourself cuddled against him, smelling his scent, a mix of sweat and his typical perfume, you know there is no better place to he than in his arms. Ignoring his thoughts, you are somewhat inspired when you lean into him and say:

“I would run away with you. Anywhere you want to go, I will be with you.”

When looking into your eyes, this inspiration finds home in his heart as well. But Anakin needs to hold back his impulsivity or he’d might be accused of lacking sensitivity.

“Maker knows I cannot love any other creature that is not you, Y/N.”

There is so much to be said, but for some reason there is no need to let unspoken words reach each other’s tongues. Not only because in one gaze they could see reflected in their eyes the love one feels for the other, but also the abrupt knock on the door that scares you both, a reminder that there is life beyond bed—and the kind that requests your relationship to remain a secret.

It is tiresome to hid. To pretend that neither is too intimate with the other, to ignore the sparks of jealousy that rises in both hearts and minds, to act cooly before certain situations.

As when for example the day you confronted Darth Maul, defeating him in the process and earning some battle scars that almost freaked Anakin out.

“Babe, I told you not to chase that vile being”, he scolded you then. “You could have contacted me.”

“What for? We’ve been there before, Anakin, and I told you a million times that I can do things by myself, thank you very much.”

But these arguments, endless and repetitive as they were, usually ended in bed so both of you knew how to amend it pretty well.

However, you stood in his shoes when Anakin faced the Sith Lord in person. Although this was an occasion that feared you more than you’d care to admit, you were baffled—as well as many others—that he proved to be the chosen one by defeating Chancellor Palpatine once and for all.

“And you call me stubborn”, you told him, shaking your head in disapproval.

Anakin chuckled as you glared at him. Kisses and sweet words were enough to knock your defenses down, although you were not entirely the one to blame for worrying too much.

So now here you are. Amidst celebrations, Anakin doesn’t appreciate the attention earned. For someone so proud, this only seems to separate him from you. Hence why he sees an opportunity—one he has been planning for a while—to elope with you.

You are in the middle of a conversation to Ahsoka—and today you are very elegant, dressing your best dress and wearing a good make up, wanting to feel beautiful for him—when Anakin shows up.

“Excuse me, ladies. General Y/LN, may I have a word with you?”

Although you try to disguise the amusement in your eyes, every effort you and Anakin pay in omitting the true nature of your relationship goes to nothing because Ahsoka, rolling her eyes and resting a hand in her waist, says:

“Really now? Are we all going to play pretend I’m dumb? Skyguy and Y/Nickname, I know that you are…”

“Shhhhh”, you and Anakin say at the same time, with you putting your hands over her mouth.

“Be discreet, Ahsoka”, you whisper, letting her go after ensuring she is not acting otherwise. “Please.”

“I should have not underestimated your observation”, Anakin sighs. “An adolescent like yourself should be paying attention to interests concerning your age, though.”

“Oh please, Skyguy. This is a huge insult to my intelligence. You are barely trying to be discreet. Anyone can tell you and Y/N are together, though judging by others faces in this room, they either pretend not to see what’s crystal clear or they are just blind.”

Anakin and you exchange disconcerted glances, but you try to intervene by appeasing the situation.

“Can we trust in you to keep this low for a while? Come now, Soka. You know how much you mean to us.”

It works. Ahsoka looks at you with other eyes: in fact, she’d always perceived you as a maternal figure, a role you’ve taken to yourself in the e years she’d been under Anakin’s wig knowing her difficulties with other aspects within the Order she struggled with.

“Very well”, she feels proud of herself for the responsibility delegate to her. “You will not be disappointed.”

Anakin rolls his eyes, but you smile at her and press her forehead a kiss.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

As you go after Anakin, you say:

“What’s with this rush to leave? I thought you’d enjoy to be in the center of attention.”

Once you are in the ship, Anakin flashes you a smirk and says:

“Oh, dear. I couldn’t care less about these boring ceremonies. Now, I think we should enjoy ourselves away from these pompous people. I have a better place to take you to, where I think you’ll love.” He smiles at you before turning the ship on: “Love, this is where the fun begins.”

And that is how he takes you to planet Y/C. Once getting there, you are perplexed by the landscape that draws right under your gaze: a mix of colors that brightens the horizon, brown hills peppered with pink trees—one of the kind you’ve never seen before—amidst small lakes that reinforce a delicately aesthetic.

“It’s so peaceful here, isn’t it?”, Anakin tells you, eyes glued at the expressions your face transmits.

“It is, Ani. Where are you taking me? How’d you know this place?”, you ask him.

He leads you now to the beach. There, Anakin watches with a smile on his lips how you are charmed by the wild nature. That should be the nest of your love, that only grows each day, so he decides.

“I came here only once in that mission concerning Ventress. I always wanted an opportunity to come back, and looks like I have one.”

He pauses, waiting for you to absorb what he is telling you. You take a while to understand, your eyes focused in the purple that paints that ocean, making the scenario so unique and colorful. Never before you felt such a peace.

But when your fingers are locked with his, you slowly comprehend the reason of his subtle getaway from a prestigious ceremony that was praising his great deeds.

“Anakin… What are you saying?”

“For a very long time I’ve been silenced, but I will not tolerate this anymore”, he smiles at you, delighting at your slow discovery. “Allow me to tell you how much I love you, how I cannot spend any more time without you by my side. You are such a precious gift from heavens that I fear to waste away if I don’t…”

He chokes a little with words, thrilled as much as you are.

“Anakin… Ani! Oh, Ani!”, before you can help yourself, your eyes are blurried by tears and you start weeping.

On his knees, he takes a velvet box and opens it right before you.

“I hope these are tears of joy…”, Anakin starts nervously.

You giggle.

“Of course they are!”

“Good”, he clears his throat. “Y/N Y/LN, will you give me the honor of becoming Mrs Skywalker for the rest of your life…?”

He barely finishes the proposal when you throw your arms around his neck.

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!”

Anakin beams and so do you. Just after you share a kiss and he places a ring on your finger, he says:

“I’m very happy for choosing the perfect scenario, but can we go elsewhere? I hate sand.”

You laugh and so does he. Locking your arms with his, you say:

“Anywhere with you, Anakin, is going home to me.”

And that is the happiest day of your lives…

***

Epilogue.

…that is until the day you two get married, of course.

It happens in a private ceremony with only C3-P0 and R2-D2 as witnesses. Your hair drops loose in your waist and you wear a traditional white gown you’ve purchased of the planet you came from.

A priest awaits and in front of him, is Anakin. You admire him with eyes already puddled by tears. Your heart skips a bear when setting your gaze upon the man you love with your entire being. He is so handsome with those robes, curly hair dropping over his shoulder—certainly longer than last time—reinforcing an angelical physique that makes you swoon.

“Y/N”, he calls your name as he stands his hand to take yours. As you do so, Anakin, whose eyes are all over you, smiles excitedly. “We are starting a new life now.”

And by saying so, a hand rests upon your stomach.

“How’d you know…?”, you laugh quietly, surprised he noticed before you.

“I know my wife”, Anakin whispers into your ear, pleased to make you blush.

The priest clears his throat, it’s time. As he finally begins, you and him cannot look away from each other. Vows are professed and you are now Mrs Skywalker.

A brighter future awaits for you both, sealed in the form of a kiss…

#star wars #star wars imagine #imagine star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #Hayden Christensen

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yellowocaballero · 1 month ago

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hi I am one of the people who read your no chip au (and serendipitously reread it pretty recently). I am delighted by the prospect of getting to read more (even better??), you have such a wonderful ability to write characters in any setting who suck so badly in ways that are so so interesting. obi-wan had a father figure it was cody that's just what dads are like.

THANK YOU SO MUCH I love hearing that I'm good at writing people who suck interestingly. That is genuinely usually my main goal. I do it on purpose.

There's a lot of reasons why. I think partly just because the stuff I write is usually character-focused, which means that characters need to be the source of drama and conflict, which means that a story is at its most Dramatic if a character is falling off the bad decisions tree and hitting every branch on the way down. Dysfunction is just more interesting than function. But that doesn't mean they have to suck, right? Evil isn't necessarily more interesting than goodness. I find that the reasons why I chase goodness are often far more complex than the reasons I hurt people. Chasing goodness is arduous, intensive, exhausting, and time-consuming work. We need strong motivation to do it.

But I think that's why. I do think of the guys as people who suck, interestingly. But the people I write I think are, by the end of the story, chasing goodness. The path towards chasing goodness is hard. I think we (Tumblr, especially) talks about goodness as if it's an innate desire, that we are naturally good and that evil is a deviation from our natural state of goodness, and that's probably true in an evolutionary sense. Babies are altruistic. But I think that thinking of good as something that good people do can leave us complacent to the great harm that good people are capable of. Goodness is a path you have to find for yourself, and we tend to believe we've found it before we actually do.

OBI-WAN HAD A FATHER FIGURE IT WAS CODY THAT'S JUST WHAT DADS ARE LIKE.

I spent too much verbiage on this post to start dissecting Cody here because that is such a fucking long post - it is, maybe, a 9 story and 200k+ word post [I said 100k before but I was very wrong] - but it's absolutely a story about the ruin love makes of a life. I have, however, been informed that Cody is what East Asian parents are like, specifically. If it's fathers specifically, it's because Cody is an authoritarian. He does great and immense amounts of harm to pretty much everybody throughout the story, and he does it because he loves you, and he does it because he is a fascist, and he does it because being a fascist is the only way he knows how to love you.

I find that (hyperspecifically?) fanfic has issues treating both parents and children as fully realized people and characters simultaneously. This is because fanfic authors tend to skew younger, lmfao, but also because the wish fulfillment tropes used tend to flatten people. Either the parent is an embodiment of our wish fulfillment works for the great parent or a cartoonish devil of evil parenting specifically set up so the perfect parent can swoop in (I fucking hate Batfam fics.), or the child is an accessory for the elementary school teacher/single dad meet-cute trope. Either way, the 'right' parenting is not flawed, and parents are rarely people. And forget about having, like, fascists, be people.

I'll always be sympathetic to Cody. He was a victim of fascism, and his only true desire was to save his family from the pain they were entrenched in. He made hard decisions because he prioritized his family being alive and safe, at the expense of his own soul. I can't blame him for what he did. He had lost so many people and he couldn't stand to lose any more.

And what he did made him actually the supervillain of the entire story, caused every conflict, and hurt everyone around him. It's a sincerely messy situation with a sincerely messy person, and it's a tragedy that would not have happened if Cody's life had been kinder.

I hope that people have empathy for the ways in which Cody and Ben are messed up. There's pain and love in equal measures there.

Also this is both a play on Luke and Vader's relationship (obviously - the Q of what do you do when you have a supervillain dad?) AND a deconstruction of the cutsey family funtimes Dad!Vader and Cutiepie!Luke stories because, I also have them as a guilty pleasure don't get me wrong, having an actual supervillain for a dad CANNOT ACTUALLY BE FUN and no matter how nice and kind he is to you, everything surrounding him has to be SO DAMAGING -

#obviously there is so much fucking more to say but I gotta get out the door and also don't want an infinitely long post #my writing #my asks #ben and cody isn't a story of forgiveness #because cody doesn't think he's done anything wrong.#is the long and short of it #so if it's not a story of forgiveness - what is it?

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nook-of-fanfic · 3 months ago

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Investigation Tea

Pairing: Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Summary: Cody prefers caff. Cody knows Obi-Wan knows he prefers caff. So why does he keep making him tea? For Day 7 of @codywanweek - Prompt: Courting Word Count: 3,948 a/n: This one is my absolute favourite of these stories. Did I spent far too long trying to find any tea meanings? Yes. Did I give up because I couldn't find anything and base this entirely on flower colours? Also yes. Do I care? No. This was so much fun to write. also on Ao3

To say Cody was confused was an understatement. It had started shortly after their last mission. When he joined his general in their office for some flimsiwork, a mug of tea had been waiting for him. Tea. He knew his general knew he preferred caff, but he thought maybe General Kenobi had just picked up a new blend and wanted Cody to try it.

And then it hadn’t stopped. It had, in fact, gotten worse. Whereas it started with just a cup of tea a week, the other days still being caff, now there was tea pretty much every time the General arrived to the office first.

In the beginning it had always been the same tea: a fruity, slightly sour drink with a yellow colour. After about three weeks, another blend joined the mix. A refreshing purple drink with very small hints of spice. Cody much preferred this one, although he wouldn’t tell anyone unless asked. Over some time, the yellow drink became less and less present, the purple tea now the General’s go to for Cody. He himself drank his usual tea, not once having a cup of either of the teas he offered Cody.

Then came the pink tea. It was very light in colour, very fruity and far too sweet for Cody. He felt as if he just drank a cup of pure sugar. But when he looked up after his first sip, the sweetness was nothing compared to the sweetness in his generals smile and the softness in his eyes. If this was what it took, Cody thought, he’d drink the appalling cup of sugar everyday.

It was only when he was back in his quarters that he realized something was wrong. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew he had feelings for his general he wasn’t supposed to have. It was why he was glad General Kenobi suggested a joined office. Cody had easily agreed on the premise that it would be quicker to work through flimsiwork that had to be signed by both of them. The fact that it gave him time to subtly stare at the Jedi, or to see him as relaxed as he could be during the war, were just added bonus points. But he knew his general. He knew he wouldn’t offer Cody something without at least a fraction of a thought behind it. With a start Cody realized that the Jedi had never asked for his opinion on the teas, not even once. He had done that every time before this thing started. Cody decided it was time he started an investigation. His plan was simple, watch and document the teas he got for some time and then… okay, maybe not that simple. Cody had no idea what to do after documenting the teas, but at least it was a start.

And so began ‘Investigation Tea’. Cody noticed that his general would make him tea, but that the tea was not stored in their office. Whenever Cody arrived first, the only thing he would find was his caff and the general’s usual tea blend. Next, he noticed that the pink beverage was usually accompanied by snacks, whereas the purple tea was not. Cody had thought it was weekday related, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

If there was pink tea on Tuesday, there would be snacks. He was served purple tea the next Tuesday, no snacks in sight. Cody also realized that the pink tea had grown on him rather quickly. He just had to look at the way his general was smiling when he drank it, and he felt like he could do anything.

This was also an odd thing. Of course, the Jedi smiled at him whenever they met in the office, but not quite like the smile that accompanied the too-sweet drink. The last thing Cody noted before he decide on his next step was that there was less flimsiwork getting done whenever he had pink tea. His general seemed content to gaze at Cody for a majority of the time, and Cody enjoyed the short, not-actually-a-break break with his tea and the snacks and, of course, his general.

Once Cody had documented all these things in his mind, and stewed over them for longer than he would like to admit without coming to a conclusion, he figured his next step would be to get a second opinion. So, like any good brother would do, he called Rex in the middle of the night.

His brother picked up the call, answering with a gracefully grumbled “What?”. Given that this was a private call, Cody decided to let it slide.

“General Kenobi is acting weird.” Wow Cody, very helpful.

Rex seemed confused, “Isn’t he always? What’s so special this time? Also, do you even know what time it is?”

And so, Cody explained what he had found, carefully omitting the parts about his general’s smile rivalling the brightness of the suns they often passed by. Or how Cody was sure his eyes were softer than any material in the entire galaxy. He didn’t need Rex making fun of him for his crush, because that’s all Cody would admit to it being. Not now, and actually not ever, given that it had happened enough times already.

After relaying his train of thought to Rex, he had asked him if General Skywalker ever had tea with his former Master, and which teas that would be. When Rex pressed for a reason, Cody just told him he was thinking of a gift for his general. Rex agreed to ask his own general, but at a more appropriate time. All Cody could do now was wait. He laid down on his bed again and closed his eyes. Perhaps that would keep his thoughts from running wild, at least for a night.

Rex called back the next evening, because as much as he liked to tease his brother, he could tell this really was eating at him.

“General Kenobi does share tea with General Skywalker,” he reported, “quite often it seems. There’s some of it stocked in his office, I’m pretty sure. He also does it with Ahsoka. General Skywalker described the most common tea as slightly sour, but there is also an orange one that’s apparently very refreshing. He didn’t mention any other teas in particular. Ahsoka said the same, although she noted the orange tea is usually only for special occasions. Maybe it’s more expensive or something. I think there might be some meaning behind this, but I have no idea what it could possibly be. Have you tried searching the Holonet?”

“Thank you, Rex. You really think there’s meaning behind it?”

“Of course . General Kenobi doesn’t seem like the type to randomly do something like this without a good reason,” Rex mused.

“Okay. Maybe I’ll try searching something up. That seems like the next logical step,” Cody thought out loud.

“Good Luck, Cody!” Rex signed off, probably to go back to his duties.

Cody really should get back to his flimsy work too, but this was eating at him. He grabbed his data pad and started searching for the meanings of different teas.

This was getting ridiculous. Cody had been sitting here for hours now, and all he had found on tea was which benefits certain teas had and none of them were remotely familiar to him. There was one last place Cody could look, even if he had lost almost all faith in getting the meaning of the teas without having to directly talk to his general about it. An Archive of old traditions from all sorts of planets. If it wasn’t here, it would be nowhere. Scrolling past book covers of tea rituals that looked far too complicated to be replicated on a spaceship and ancient recipe books of “Tea sweets for religious offerings”, something caught Cody’s eye. It was a book titled ‘Stewjoni Tea: The uses and meanings’. That seemed promising.

Opening the book, Cody skipped through the opening that described how tea was a big source of income for most locals and, as such, a major part of the culture. There seemed to be tea for every single occasion. Apparently, it was costumers to brew these teas for others, and drinking it was a simple way to show that whatever meaning the tea had was accepted. The rudest thing anyone could do was pour the freshly brewed tea in front of the feet of the person who brewed it.

There was a supposedly relaxing lavender coloured tea given to new parents, ‘get well soon’ tea that seemed to hold slight healing properties and even a tea given to those in mourning as condolences. Throughout these pages, Cody had found out that the yellow tea he had been offered at first symbolised friendship and was brewed either for close friends or people you’d want to be closer with. The orange tea Ahsoka mentioned was a celebratory tea, brought out on happy occasions like birthdays, graduations or, as probable in the General’s case, a successful mission. But through all of this, Cody had not found either the purple or the pink beverage he had been served by his general.

With a heavy heart, Cody scrolled to the last remaining chapter, not holding out hope on it introducing any new teas. The chapter was titled ‘Courtship and Proposals’. Cody spluttered. There was no way this was the chapter he needed, and he was about to close the book entirely, but now he was curious. How bad could it be, he’d already skimmed through the rest of the book, might as well go through this one too.

‘The start of a courtship is always an offer for friendship’, it read, ‘but it should be quickly followed by an offer for courtship, as to not mislead the other party. The tea of choice for an offer of courtship should have a darker purple colour.’ Cody nearly choked on his own breath. What? No, this couldn’t be. He must have misread it. But no, there it stood, clear as day: ‘The tea off choice for an offer of courtship should have a darker purple colour and a minuscule amount of spice. The courtship is accepted by the other party through drinking the tea, although only implicitly. It is more of an openness to the possibility. The official acceptance of the courtship should be done with a traditional celebratory tea, as explained previously, brewed by the courted person.’

Cody felt his face heat up. His general had been courting him for months, if this book was to be believed. But why this way? Then Cody remembered. His general was from Stewjon. He must have wanted to keep the tradition up. And Cody had, unknowingly, halfway accepted the courtship. It wasn’t like the courtship was unwelcome, but Cody would have liked to properly accept it. So why hadn’t his general talked to him about it? Never mind, that would be a question for later.

Cody practically inhaled all the remaining info the book had to offer. When he learned that the pink tea he was getting from his general was a tea reserved for dates, he felt as though he nearly died from how flustered he was. Over the past weeks, he had been on multiple dates with his General, and he hadn’t even known. Maker, that explained the snacks and the amount of work not getting done when he was offered this specific drink. He learned that it was so sweet because it was supposed to represent the purity of the love one partner felt for the other. Cody had to do something, and do it quick, before his general got bored of Cody apparently not picking on the fact that his general wanted a relationship with him.

He remembered Rex telling him that General Skywalker kept some of the teas in his office. He shot Rex a quick message, requesting he ask his general for a teabag of the orange variant, preferably without telling anyone, especially General Kenobi. Part one of the plan, done. Now, he had to wait. Once the tea would be there he would make sure he would be the first to arrive to their office and he would serve his general the orange tea and everything would be solved.

If asked about it later, Cody said he absolutely did not use the time to think about the fact that his immediate reaction to finding out he had been courted by his general for weeks was feeling bad that he hadn’t been able to knowingly accept. Nope. Not him. And there also wasn’t the realization that he couldn’t even not accept. This was Obi-Wan Kenobi. He’d be an idiot not to accept the affection, because that’s what it was, given to him freely.

Cody absolutely did not, through all of this, come to the conclusion that he was buckets over boots in love with his general. Never happened. But that was only if someone asked. In reality, all of these thoughts came at the exact same time and Cody felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. He loved his general. This was so much more than the crush Cody had insisted it was. It had been for a long time. And it seems his feelings were returned. Cody felt his face heat up impossibly more. And if he kept his helmet on more over the next days when in the presence of his Jedi, nobody said anything.

It was another week before Cody had the opportunity to meet with Rex in person. In this time, Cody had made sure to be consistently first in their office. He didn’t know whether he could bear the tea or the smiles, not after knowing what it meant. He had a plan, and by everything he believed in, he was not going to ruin it by doing something stupid like kissing his general the next time he was offered tea, and this felt like the safest way to avoid that situation.

When the meeting finally came, Cody was at his nerve’s end. Rex passed a small package to Cody, who had to hold back from sprinting to his room right in the middle of the meeting to prepare the tea. But Cody was a Marshal Commander. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, leave a meeting without good reason, and he was patient. And most of all, when the meeting was over, he didn’t run. He walked, calmly and not at all faster than his usual pace. Back in the safety of his room, Cody opened the parcel. Inside it was a bag of tea wrapped in some flimsi, a list of ingredients that Cody ignored, and what seemed to be a handwritten note.

‘Have fun ;)‘, it read, in a handwriting that Cody didn’t recognize as Rex’s. Just a moment later, Cody’s face heated up again as he connected the note to General Skywalker’s notes on some of the flimsiwork he’d seen. He knew. Oh Maker, Skywalker knew. But then, Cody remembered one small fact he’d found out a while ago and smiled to himself. The young Jedi wouldn’t tell, not unless he wanted his own secret exposed.

And so, the last step of Cody’s grand plan could begin. He hoped the practice paid off. He had been making his general’s tea for over a week now, so it should be too difficult with this one either, right? Just to be safe, Cody pulled up the book again to check for any brewing tips. There was nothing particularly different to the others, so Cody decided to settle down for the night. It wouldn’t do for him to be tired tomorrow morning, not with this.

The next morning, Cody woke up before his alarm. He didn’t know why exactly he was so nervous. He was just accepting a courtship offer, not offering the courtship himself. Still, he felt as if his entire body was on fire. Okay Cody, breathe. It’s just General Kenobi. Just the man he had been slowly falling for for the better part of this stupid war.

He got up, got ready and headed to the mess for breakfast. It wouldn’t do to do this on an empty stomach. He scarfed down some of the tasteless mush they called food. When he was done and it was time, he went back to his quarters, grabbed the tea, and headed over to their office. Everything had to be perfect, and Cody had made sure to be very early, giving him enough time to prepare the tea. With the tea steeping, Cody went through the practised motion of making himself a cup of caff, and if his hand shook, he took no notice.

He prepared both of their workspaces, setting his flimsiwork opposite General Kenobi’s. Then, he set the table with the coffee and tea. By his calculations, General Kenobi was bound to arrive any minute now.

When he did arrive, Cody made sure nothing seemed out of the ordinary. General Kenobi thanked him for the tea, as always. Cody waited for his general to sit before doing so himself, as always. Cody grabbed the first piece of flimsi available and took a sip of his caff, as always. General Kenobi smiled and took a sip of his tea, also as always. Then his eyes widened and he spluttered, definitely not as always. He tried to cover it with a cough and took another sip of his beverage. His head snapped upwards and there was a silent question in his eyes. His mouth opened and closed, but it seemed as though he can’t bring the words out. Cody just smiled and nodded. This finally snapped General Kenobi out of his stupor and he’s in front of Cody in the next second, cupping his cheek.

“Really?”, he asked, “Do you really mean it?”

And Cody couldn’t do much except nod again at this, could he? He felt himself get pulled up, and then his general’s arms are around him. When he let go, there is another question, one that Cody had actually expected to be the first.

“How did you know?” His general’s hands were still on Cody’s arms and Cody should really stop calling him general.

“I found an old book, sir. It matched exactly with what you had been doing, so I thought I should react accordingly.”

“Oh Cody. Dear Cody. You are so brilliant,” General Kenobi breathes out, “but if you want this, I must insist you call me Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, Obi-Wan.” And wasn’t it the easiest thing to do? “So, how do we go about this?”

Obi-Wan laughs. Cody wants to hear the sound everyday for the rest of his life.

“Inside this room? We do whatever we want.”

For now, there was no reason to mention the fact that, once they left the room, they would have to be Commander and General again instead of Cody and Obi-Wan. For now, they sat at the table again, side by side this time, chairs so close their shoulders were brushing, and talked. No paperwork got done that day.

Some weeks later, Obi-Wan was first in their office. When Cody arrived, there were two cups of pink tea, as so often now, and Cody was immediately engulfed in a hug as soon as the door closed. He set the snacks he brought down in front of them and they settled into their chairs. But something was different. Obi-Wan seemed nervous, for some reason. He was shifting in his seat, probably hoping Cody wouldn’t notice. Cody, of course, did notice. He noticed everything about Obi-Wan, always had. And with their recent development, he noticed even more, if possible. Knowing Obi-Wan would not speak, Cody broke the silence.

“Cyare, what’s wrong?” Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest that he was fine, but Cody’s stare apparently made him rethink it and sigh instead.

“It’s just,” Obi-Wan turned to face Cody and he was so close now, “Cody, dear, can I kiss you?”

Cody blanked for just a second. Then, a smile broke out on his face and he leaned in further. When their lips met, the only thought in Cody’s mind was that this was right. There was no other way to describe the feeling of their lips moving together, slowly, gently, as if they had all the time in the world. When they parted, Cody had no idea what time it was.They could have been kissing for hours, as far as he knew. And it was still too short. They did not get any work done that day either.

Another week later was the first time Cody didn’t sleep in his own room. They worked for longer than usual, courtesy of the casualty report of their most recent mission. There were too many brothers lost that day, and Cody could feel the exhaustion and grief throughout his entire body. He was sure Obi-Wan felt the same. When they were finished, only the night shift was awake. Obi-Wan tugged Cody along and it took him far too long to realize that they were going to the Jedi’s quarters. Once inside, Obi-Wan pulled him to the bed.

“Gen- Obi-Wan, what’s going on?” Cody asked. Obi-Wan just hugged him closer. Upon pressing the matter a little more, Obi-Wan admitted that he didn’t want to be alone this night.

Cody grinned through the pain still present in his mind. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?” To be honest, he didn’t want to be alone either. Growing up on Kamino with all of his brothers around him and then being a Commander who had to have his own quarters wasn’t exactly easy. Cody and Obi-Wan changed into their night clothes and laid down. Cody pressed his back against the wall and Obi-Wan settled with his head on Cody’s chest. He was asleep not even five minutes later. Cody smiled and set an alarm for the next morning before letting himself drift off.

From that day on, they spent the night together at least once a week. They would have loved to be together more, but they couldn’t afford to raise any suspicions. They still had to keep their relationship secret.

‘After the war,’ they had promised each other. After the war they could be together freely, wherever and whenever they wanted.

They had gotten used to this routine quickly. Get to the office, drop the titles, pull the chairs together and work, trading kisses and information in equal measure.

A year after Cody accepted Obi-Wan’s courtship, the war coming to a close, Cody got up very early again. He was just as nervous as he was that one fateful day. Just as that day, he grabbed a small package with some tea and made his way over to his and his boyfriends office. Before the door could close behind him, Obi-Wan entered the room as well.

“Good morning my dear. What brings you here this early?” Obi-Wan came to stand next to Cody at the small counter where they made their tea. He, too, was carrying a small package. He opened it and took out a tea bag. Cody, in turn, opened his package, also revealing a bag of red tea, the same as his Jedi’s. Obi-Wan laughed and pulled him into a kiss. There they stood for a while, tea temporarily forgotten.

‘When either party is ready to move on in the relationship, it is customary to do this with tea as well. The tea used for this should be red, fruity and have a generous amount of spice. The other party accepts the proposal by offering the same tea in return.’

a/n: Cody's frustration is entirely based on my own struggle when researching the tea meanings, because there was NOTHING except for health benefits and types of teas that exist when I looked it up.

#codywan #codywan week 2024 #codywanweek2024 #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #star wars

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kyberrebel · 4 months ago

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Things that went through my mind during The Acolyte episode 5

I love how Osha cares about Pip more than any of the Jedi she came with. I honestly don’t blame her, Pip is adorable.

Damn, Darth Teeth really doesn’t mess around. But if he kills Yord or Sol I AM RIOTING.

Ooo, a Jedi-kabob!

I wonder if Osha remembers how to fight with a lightsaber.

This is a stupid nitpick, but Sol having a blue lightsaber just feels wrong. I feel a green saber would fit him way better.

“I sense something familiar.” So did Darth Teeth used to be a Jedi?

I’m actually enjoying the fight between Jecki and Mae way more than the lightsaber fight. Because honestly, the lightsaber fight was cool, but way too short.

Okay, never mind, Darth Teeth vs Sol and Jecki is even cooler.

WHAT

DID THEY-

JECKI!?!?!?!?

Okay, I’m pissed.

I’m so pissed.

I was right about Qimir being Darth Teeth but I don’t even care because of how pissed I am.

Oh so he IS a Sith. Interesting. I wonder who trained him then?

I know this is the wrong time but Qimir with the slicked back hair and a sleeveless outfit looks really good.

I can fix him, I swear.

NEVER MIND NO NO NO NO I CANNOT WILL NOT

HE DID NOT JUST KILL YORD

HE DID NOT!!!!

*Takes a deep breath and continues the episode.*

“I’ve accepted my darkness. What have you done with yours?” Okay, that line goes hard.

Speaking of, I’m surprised that they revealed who Darth Teeth is before they revealed the rest of what happened the night of the fire and when the witches died.

Using Pip to get the creatures to attack Qimir was such a good idea.

But also RIP Pip now???? Why is everyone dying in this episode?

Mae telling Osha the Jedi turned her against her reminds me so much of Anakin telling Obi-Wan he turned Padme against him in ROTS.

The twins hugging each other is such a sweet moment in an otherwise not sweet episode.

Mae cutting her hair I’m guessing is her trying to look like Osha. I’m guessing she is going to take her place to get close to and kill Sol and/or other Jedi.

And now the real Osha is with Qimir. Great.

Despite the obvious things that pissed me off this episode, I thought it was really good. I think it’s honestly my favorite episode since episode one.

There’s way more tension added to the show when you realize that no one is safe.

And I think that killing all the Jedi except Sol makes sense, if my predictions are accurate. I think that the Jedi or someone else will cover up the fact that Qimir is a Sith, and the rest of the Jedi Order will never know about him.

I’m guessing the show will end with Qimir dying. I’m guessing Mae will die too, but I’m not as confident. I feel Sol could go either way, but I’m pretty sure Osha will live, but maybe go into some kind of exile (that Sol might go into too if he lives). That way, everyone who knows about the events of the show will either be dead, or far away from everyone to never tell the rest of the Jedi Order what happened.

#star wars #the acolyte #the acolyte spoilers #yord horde

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lightwise · 2 years ago

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The Protector: Thoughts about Satine, Bo, and Din as rulers of Mandalore

This has already been discussed in much better detail here, here, and here, but I realized the other day that there is another aspect to the Bo-Katan vs. Din ruling Mandalore with the Darksaber that hasn't been mentioned.

I firmly agree that Din Djarin as a character is meant to serve as the Guardian/Protector, not the Ruler, of Mandalore. He is literally a knight in shining armor. His name could be a reference to the term Paladin (thank you for this @katherynefromphilly). I mean look at him.

Granted, I was excited to see him wield the Darksaber and potentially follow the reluctant leader trope. BUT. I think the direction they are taking him and Bo-Katan is much better.

So how does Satine factor into this, you ask? Here's how. What did Satine not have, as a leader? A PROTECTOR.

Now, she had Obi-Wan. And I believe she even called him her protector at one point (am I imagining this?) And he did what he could to keep her safe and give her guidance.

But he wasn't really able to be her protector the way she needed. They were not able to merge their lives together the way they might have wanted. And Satine's rule suffered and was cut short due to her lack of wise counsel, her lack of someone to lean on who had both her and Mandalore's best interests at heart. (We're going to ignore the Palpatine/Empire component which would have brought down Mandalore regardless, and did so in spite of both Satine and Bo-Katan's efforts).

What has Bo-Katan also not had until now? That same protection. (Other than Fenn Rau, thank you for pointing this out @mandalorianchronicles). And her efforts have also failed, until now.

I am not at all saying that either of these incredible women need a man to be able to rule. They are strong, capable, and independent leaders in their own right. But what they do need is the space to rule, the support and protection and gaps filled that someone having their back could give them, in order to be effective and far reaching in their efforts. Good leaders have to delegate. If they try to handle everything themselves, their energy and efforts will be diminished. And the role of the guardian/protector/paladin is to do just that.

I hope we get to see just how amazing of a team these two can be, supporting each other, filling in the gaps, and coming together to unite their separate definitions of Mandalorian and their respective tribes into one renewed dynasty. (Also keeping my fingers crossed for a Satine mention in live action PLEASE).

This is the Way.

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antianakin · 1 year ago

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I think something a lot of fans of Anakin tend to forget about him is that his story is told and looked at in reverse: the effect of his actions (Vader and the Empire) were shown an written before the cause (him being a Jedi and then falling). Vader, the irredeemable monster, being forgiven by Luke, is supposed to be a statement on Luke’s character, not Anakin’s. Vader isn’t post Anakin, Anakin is pre-Vader. Framing him like that, it’s suddenly clear just how flawed and terrible Anakin was even before he took a nosedive off the diving board of common sense (if he was ever on it)

The redemption that so many fans want to give Vader, then, is framed in film less as Vader realizing he’s wrong and doing a 180. It’s Luke recognizing how close he is to becoming Vader, choosing a better path, and getting tortured for it. Honestly, as far as Vader’s actual redemptive moment, it’s a fairytale moment of “death equals redemption” that holds up in the narrative of Luke’s story, but wouldn’t actually accomplish anything for Vader.

All that to say… Anakin should be recognized as being Pre-Vader, and if someone wants to do a fixit good ending story with him they either need to kill him off or spend a LOT of time getting him to actually recognize his failures and then turn away from them.

(Unfortunately, that’s a LOT of *work*, so most people just woobify him and call it a day. Thank you for your work of correcting this misunderstanding, and sorry for the long ask 😅)

In fairness, Lucas had a pretty good amount of the story from the Prequels WRITTEN already, he just ended up having to make the story in reverse, which is why there's references to Anakin having been a Jedi who fell and the Clone War. But most of it is just that... references. We ARE focused on Luke's story and so Anakin's background is there to, as you say, highlight LUKE'S choices and struggles and triumphs. We never find out why Anakin did the things he did in the OT (aside from Obi-Wan's comments about his own arrogance in trying to train Anakin which the Prequels retconned anyway), so Anakin's choices are a reflection on Luke more than anything else because Luke is the character we actually know.

And... yeah. Anakin's redemption is difficult for me because I get why it happened the way it did in the OT. Anakin's biggest crimes within the context of JUST what we see in the Original Trilogy are against Luke himself (chopping off the arm, killing Obi-Wan) and so the fact that he dies by saving Luke means he's fairly directly addressed those crimes and made amends for them. He can die having fixed those mistakes and forgiven by the person he's hurt the most. It works. But adding in the Prequels means now there's the Tuskens he murdered, Padme who he manipulates and betrays, the Republic he's dismantled, and the Jedi Order that he betrays and genocides (and adding in TCW means we can also include the clones that he betrays and enslaves). And now all of the sudden there's a LOT more that we have directly seen him do that needs to be redeemed and a lot more amends he needs to make and a lot more people whose forgiveness he doesn't have and will likely never get. There's a lot of things that killing Palpatine can never and will never fix or undo. It doesn't directly address almost ANY of those sins. And so this sudden redemption via death stops feeling so satisfying because it just... doesn't actually mean anything in the face of what we've now seen him do.

Like you say, it holds up if you just look at Luke's narrative, but it falls apart when you look at Anakin's own.

Redeeming Anakin while taking into account everything he has done over the Prequels, TCW, Rebels, the Obi-Wan Kenobi show, and anything else that's been written for him in other media would be a difficult story to write. It WOULD take a lot of time, he may never actually completely redeem himself for what he's done because he may never truly be able to let go of some of those fears or some of his guilt and grief. He may never quite lose the instinct to react to things with violence. It SHOULD be messy and complicated, but that's not always the most satisfying story to write or even to read, so that's where we end up with woobified Anakin who just gets to do one slightly goodish thing and call it a day.

#star wars #anti anakin #anti anakin skywalker #anakin critical #anakin skywalker critical #luke skywalker #never apologize for a long ask!

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stationary-cycle-in-motion · 2 months ago

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@augusnippets day 26: nightmare

tw: implied murder

Thick fog, a near inky black, swarms and presses, shifting like shadows in the gloom of the waning moon. In the distance, there is a small figure. The being is difficult to make out, but it shouts something, something shrill and lost to the wind. A child’s voice, Obi-Wan thinks. The kid must be stranded. Fear prickles at the hair on the back of his neck, and it feels strikingly similar to the Force’s warning of danger. They shouldn’t be out in this… storm? It must be a storm, what with the wind howling and the dust rising. Obi-Wan should help, should get the child somewhere safe. He did promise, after all. But Obi-Wan’s feet feel impossibly heavy, and he struggles to lift one, to take a step forward. When he finally does, his boot sinks, the sand swallowing it whole. Like most things surrendered to the desert, he’s not likely to ever see it again. Now barefoot, the grit worms its way between his toes, attacking every inch of exposed skin until he is all but caked in it, consumed by it. A shudder wracks Obi-Wan’s body as the grimy texture grates. “I don’t like sand either.” Sharply, Obi-Wan looks up, locks eyes with a boy. The child can’t be older than nine, maybe, with sandy brown hair and kind eyes. He looks strangely calm given the chaos raging around them, and that should make Obi-Wan wary, but it doesn’t. “How did you do that?” Obi-Wan asks. Because this is the child he saw in the distance, and given how leadened his own legs feel, he can’t imagine the boy walked so far in such a short time. The boy doesn’t answer, just smiles and shrugs, and Obi-Wan’s attention catches on the warm golden light illuminating his shoulder in dancing flickers. Looking up, he notices the fires burning in the background. Too many to count, all arranged in neat rows. Like funeral pyres. “Admiring my handiwork?” When Obi-Wan looks back, the boy is no longer a boy, but a young man, his hair longer and darker, a jagged scar slicing through one eye. His expression puckers in disgust as he watches the flames curl toward the moon. “They don’t deserve pyres. They don’t deserve to be treated with that much respect.” “Every being should be respected, in life and in death,” Obi-Wan argues. Anakin shakes his head. “Not them.” The conviction in his voice is harrowing. “They’re like animals, and I slaughtered them like animals.” Faintly, there’s a cry, like the call of a native Tatooine Tusken. And it may just be a trick of the firelight, but Anakin’s eyes look deceptively yellow–

Obi-Wan jolts awake, heart pounding, sweat dripping, yellow eyes burning in his mind's eye. He thrashes wildly, attempting to untangle his legs from the bed sheets because he has to do something, he has to warn them, save them–

“Easy, General.” The voice is soothing, grounding. “It’s alright. You’re safe.”

It was only a dream, he realizes that now, but the weight of it feels more significant than it should. It feels almost like a vision usually does.

Rex’s face, pinched in concern, comes into view, and Obi-Wan surges forward, grasping wildly at the fabric of his body glove. But his hands are heavily bandaged and– how could he forget?– completely devoid of fingers. The stubs slip, fall.

Rex grabs them, pulls Obi-Wan’s hands to his chest and holds on. He circles his thumbs gently over Obi-Wan’s exposed wrists, whispering more reassurances as he sinks down onto the cot next to him. The urgency is still there, the need to do something, to fix what’s been broken before it’s too late, but the warmth of Rex’s skin against his own seems to remind his body of the exhaustion aching in every muscle. Against his will, he’s lulled back to sleep, slumped into the safety of Rex’s embrace.

#by stationary_cycle #augusnippets day 26 #star wars #star wars fanfiction #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #captain rex #augusnippets #Obi wan/padme/rex

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starpains · 11 days ago

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What are your favorite Obi-Wan ships and what do you like about their dynamics? 😊

Oh I like this ask 🤩. Thanks, anon!

Let's start with, I ship Obi-Wan with any man who tried to kill him at least once and is younger than him *snort*. The fact that I can summarize my Kenobi shipping tendencies like that always makes me laugh. And yes, Cody counts, because chip or no chip, he did try to kill Obi-Wan once 😉. And yes, I did, in fact, just use a winking emoji and "kill" in the same sentence.

Out of all these my three favourite ships are Obikin, Obimaul and Codywan. Details under the cut.

Obikin - I mean if I really wanted to go into what I love about their dynamics I'd have to write a thesis about it, negl. I'm gonna focus on what I really like about their dynamics... The age difference, man. It always gets to me for some reason. The fact that they're at different stages of life and yet manage to develop this deep, meaningful, or--as our Obikin God Strover has put it--more-intimate-than-lovers connection is something that is very attractive to me at this almost cellular level. Like, when I read a well-written fic about them I feel it in my bloodcells, I swear. Another thing is how their understanding of life and love differs so completely because of their vastly different life experiences - the idea that with fic we are able to bridge that gap and make them find common ground and change the fate of the galaxy at the same time... *sigh*. Their love story in canon (I'm just quoting Deborah Chow, ok), is so very tragic. I'm a romantic at hear and so I will always crave a good fix-it, or alternate chain of events of a tragic love story. But tragic or not, the differences in their personalities are also amazing for amusement purposes hence why they're my first choice for Modern AUs. They are so 3D and there are so many facets to them that you can basically thrust them into any situation and make it work. And yes, all this is just scraping the tip of the iceberg for me, maybe one day I will write a thesis 😉.

Obimaul - This one is so obvious 😀. It's canon that Maul is absolutely obsessed with Obi-Wan. He lived through being bisected just to get revenge, lol. It's such a good base for fics, is it not? Is it NOT? Seriously though, I have this very specific Obimaul scenario that I love above all others and that's broken man Obi-Wan on Tattooine having lost everything, and Maul still thirsty for revenge finding him and then realizing that, hey a) killing this husk of a man is no longer satisfying, b) we're both kinda broken, c) we both hate Darth Sidious above everything else. I've read so many great fics about Hermitwan and Maul teaming up to either kill Sidious or just somehow make it till the end of their sad lives with just a little bit less of loneliness... I love it. They make for some really great angst. And honestly it's so easy to twist Maul's obsession based in hate into obsession based in love, those two feelings have quite a lot in common after all. Also, I really have to commend fic writers for coming up with creative solutions to Maul's canonic lack of dick. I think Dathomirian Magick Dick was my favourite so far 😆.

Codywan - Again, Codywan is ultimately tragic. The fact that Cody is a clone with a chip in his brain programmed to kill the man he loves... I mean, doesn't get more tragic than that, right? And also, even if they do manage to deal with the chip problem, the aging-twice-as-fast problem still persists. And you know, the fact that the majority of the galaxy doesn't even recognize Cody as a sentient being. This ship is just problem stacked on a problem stacked on yet another problem. You know, the fact that Obi-Wan is Cody's commanding officer is also kind of hard to ignore. Which is why I am so drawn to them! For me if there isn't a problem there isn't a ship 😉. I think what I love about their dynamic is their at first glance similar but after a deeper dive completely different personalities, and the fact that with Codywan it's Cody that gets to be fed up with Obi-Wan's antics for one, and not the other way round (with Obikin it's always the other way round). What I really love about Codywan fics is that authors usually focus on completely different facets of Obi-Wan's personality than they do with all the other ships. Really, it just makes me love Obi-Wan more. I always loved Obi-Wan as a character, but reading a couple of Codywans just really drove it home for me.

I hope this answers your question, anon! Thanks for asking ❤️, I simply loooove talking about my ships.

#obi wan kenobi #obikin #obimaul #codywan #ask

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jaguarys · 1 year ago

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Qui-Gon has been on Tatooine for no more than a few standard hours and already he wants nothing more than to be off it. There’s a strange feeling to it; he feels vaguely, strangely, in ways he hasn’t before, that he is not supposed to be here. That there is something wrong with the very planet itself.

It’s a foreign feeling, and the longer they stay the stronger it feels. It’s almost a stain in the Force, and that more than anything convinces him it’s not the planet, or at least not entirely. It’s something. Someone, perhaps.

When he was making to step out of the ship initially, Obi-Wan had thrown him a glance that said he felt it too. Qui-Gon did his best to shove reassurance at him, but even he couldn’t help to admit that something about it all unsettled him.

As they make their way further into town, the feeling only grows stronger. He feels, more and more increasingly, as though he is simply just not meant to be here.

It doesn’t seem targeted, oddly enough. It doesn’t feel as though whatever entity is so unwelcoming is entirely aware of his presence, but moreso just as though it’s displeased.

And then he feels the pull. He feels the Force as though it’s shock coated in disdain, coated in anger, coated in horror, as though it’s thrashing. It’s overwhelming in its intensity, in its potency, and for a moment Qui-Gon feels bowled off his feet.

And then it’s gone, just like that, snuffed out like a candle. Or like someone who knows well how to control their presence and was simply caught off guard, someone who had realized he was there.

Well, then.

He finds himself looking for the presence in the faces of the people they pass by, but it’s a futile effort. Whoever he sensed, they had tamped hard down on whatever had caused their initial reaction.

The disappearance is perhaps in and of itself a stranger sensation than the original feeling itself. He feels like a pressure has stepped itself off his chest, but then again, it’s like a blank space in the air where a person should be.

Qui-Gon shakes it off, and he and his group try as best they can to find a shop.

He has had the fortune, thus far, as has much of the wider galaxy, of avoiding Tatooine. He’d heard many things, of course, but he’d never before had a need to grace its surface.

Of course, had he had the chance, this would not have changed. But as he had not, he instead braces himself.

Qui-Gon finds himself, almost against himself, conducting business with perhaps the most unpleasant of Toydarians the galaxy has to offer. He knows very well he is being ripped off, thank you very much, but they don’t have many other options, and then––

A boy runs into the shop, and it’s like the popping of a balloon, of the discomfort of coming up for air after a dive, of ears popping at a change in altitude.

And Qui-Gon thinks, Ah. That’s it, then.

He has found the presence, and it’s a child with the strangest Force signature he has ever seen.

Qui-Gon is not and has never been a seeker, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t found younglings. He has never, of course, found a child this old. He has never, of course, ever been on Tatooine, either.

The boy doesn’t seem to notice him, but Qui-Gon knows better than that. The child’s Force signature is carefully concealed, far better than someone his age should be able to achieve, but even still it’s leaking out like water through cracks in a glass, like someone trying to catch sand in their fingers. And even with this cursory glance, he can tell: this youngling is unlike anyone, anything he has seen.

Qui-Gon knows, then, that this unfortunate and inopportune trip to Tatooine’s surface has not been in vain. For he has found the planet’s third sun.

The child resolutely ignores them. Qui-Gon thinks at first that he may simply be reading too much into it, his focus honed in as it is on his unusual Force signature. It quickly becomes clear this is not the case.

No. He is very deliberately being ignored.

And so they follow him, because Qui-Gon is fascinated.

Qui-Gon knows–– he knows–– that this child is important. He knows he cannot let him simply run on past with his... everything, with whatever immeasurable ability he has tucked away in the folds of his sand-covered tunic.

The queen's handmaiden does not know the same. She shoots him what she probably thinks are well-hidden looks, but Qui-Gon gestures for her to be quiet, and she fortunately follows his direction.

He's certain the child knows he's being followed. He does a good show of pretending, but if Qui-Gon focuses, very very closely, he can feel the vaguest tendrils of the boy's signature reaching out intermittently.

They're led from Watto's shop what could barely be called the stretch of commerce and through to an even more rundown neighborhood, and Qui-Gon realizes, Oh.

Perhaps he'd been fooled by the pride evident in the boy's posture, but he is not naïve, and he knows very well what this means.

He’s distracted from those thoughts when the child turns to them, then.

“Are you just going to allow yourselves to be caught up in the sandstorm?” He demands, his voice imbued with so much feeling it would seem precocious on anyone else but seems fitting on him. “I thought you were a Jedi.”

Qui-Gon blinks and wonders how no one else on this planet but the youngling recognizes him. But as unwise as it is, he doesn’t feel threatened. Simply chastised.

“We’ll head back to our ship,” he explains. “But thank you for your warning.”

“And you will die,” the child states.

Qui-Gon hums. The wind is already starting to pick up, swirling sand around their feet and ankles. The child is likely right.

“Is there someplace we could shelter?” The queen’s handmaiden– Padmé, her name is– asks from beside him. The child shifts his heavy gaze to her, expression tightening. He seems unduly offended by her ask, reasonable as it is.

“That’s none of my business.”

Qui-Gon opens his mouth to try to protest, but he’s cut off by another voice.

“Ani?”

A woman pops out of one of the doors– they’re small homes, Qui-Gon realizes– with a worried look on her face. She zeroes in on the child and scolds, “I was worried about you.”

Qui-Gon can’t help but smile at the scene of this strange youngling being reprimanded like any other despite his undeniable oddness. It’s strangely comforting, not least because the boy’s hard eyes immediately soften in her presence, and he seems so much younger, all of a sudden, more his apparent age.

Then the woman seems to notice his strange entourage, and she straightens.

“Are you with Ani?” She asks, half gently, half apprehensively. Qui-Gon reads the tightness in her presence. “Do you need shelter for the storm?”

Qui-Gon nods deeply. “If you have room, it would be terribly appreciated.”

She softens.

“Always,” she says, and she ushers the small group in.

Qui-Gon spends the evening trying to softly ignore the death glares the child probably thinks he's doing a good job of masking and gently trying to pry information out of Shmi Skywalker.

He learns the boy's name: Anakin Skywalker. He rolls it around in his mouth, incurably and unequivocally fascinated with this child and who he is, what he is.

He learns more than he could have hoped. He learns he was correct about the small family's predicament. He learns more about Tatooine.

He learns about the upcoming podrace. He learns about the importance of winning.

An idea grows in his mind.

He likes to think there would be more trepidation, if he were more convinced this child truly were one. If the little blond thing didn't have whispers of power around him every time Qui-Gon saw him out of the corner of his eye.

(Of course, he has no way of knowing this is not true. But Ani does. For Ani knows all of this, knows what happens before and after in this and so many worlds.

Qui-Gon does not, but perhaps he should.)

As such, Qui-Gon does not hesitate to put the boy forward for the race when Shmi mentions his aptitude. For he has no reason not to, when he has always been a pragmatic man and has prophecy in the back of his mind besides.

Shmi gives him a sharp look when he mentions it, but she doesn't protest, or at least not much past a few grumbles. He doesn't intend to get on her bad side, but it's difficult when he can't help but resist the urge to ask her how she attempts to parent something like this.

Dinner is a short affair after that. Ani continually has very little interest in him–– Qui-Gon can't tell if he's done something to offend, but from the way Ani seems to avoid the queen's handmaiden even more ardently he begins to suspect it's simply in the child's nature.

(And perhaps it is, if not in the way he might think.)

Qui-Gon approaches the Toydarian the next morning on the possibility of a bet.

It's easier than he'd expected, and he hadn't expected much. Watto is a horrible creature, and he is easily swayed by money if nothing else.

Watto throws the die.

Qui-Gon eyes it, watches it fall, reaches out to subtly shift it—

And then a pressure hits him, the force of a million hands, and the die shifts back. He gasps despite himself, the exhalation of breath as the wind is knocked out of him. For a moment he stands frozen, and then, despite himself, his gaze snaps up.

Ani is staring back at him from across the room.

Qui-Gon’s thoughts race. That was so much… more than he’d expected. He’d expected much, and yet––

And yet, he knows— he knows— that it must have been. He felt, in the supernova of strength, the traces he’s sensed around Ani.

It should not be possible.

(But through the Force, all things are. He smiles.)

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Watto leers. “Didn’t get the result you were looking for?”

Qui-Gon pulls his gaze away, leans down to pick up the die, and holds it in his fingers like it will give him answers.

He schools his expression carefully, and says, “What do you think of a more intense bet?”

Watto grunts expectantly.

“Say, if Ani were to win… easily, let’s say. Without damage done to his racer. Would that be worth both him and his mother?”

Watto squints at him for a moment, as though he can’t quite believe Qui-Gon’s words, and Qui-Gon can’t quite blame him.

He wonders if he’s making a horrible mistake. All the same, he feels— he knows— it’s right. That he’s right.

That Anakin Skywalker will, somehow, succeed.

Qui-Gon is startled out of his thoughts by an ugly bark of laughter.

“You’re not kidding!” Watto exclaims.

“I’m not,” Qui-Gon confirms with a nod. Internally, he laughs at himself. If Obi-Wan knew what he was doing…

Watto bares his teeth in what is a mean grin. “Well, then. I can’t turn that down, Master Jedi.”

And despite how ill-advised this is, how much of a mistake he must by all accounts be making, Qui-Gon can’t bring himself to regret his bet. Because he knows, somehow, somehow, it will work. He knows Ani will win. For this supernova couldn’t not.

In the coming days, Qui-Gon finds it impossible to find the child. Ani does a spectacular job of avoiding him.

After days of unsuccessful attempt, he finally corners manages to corner him when Ani's at work on the podracer.

The child refuses to look at him, acts as though he’s not even there, and Qui-Gon feels out of his depth. He knows how to deal with younglings, likes them even, but Ani is unlike any child he has ever encountered.

He brushes up against Ani’s half-concealed Force presence, and the child in front of him cannot hide the way he bristles.

Qui-Gon settles against the outer wall of the building behind them, leaning back against the rock. It still holds the last remnants of the day's heat, holding on even in the dusk.

They sit in silence for a few moments, only the sound of tool on machinery and creatures in the distance filling the air.

Qui-Gon leans forward, sighing to himself. “Are you confident in your ability to win?”

Ani gives him a look. It is, altogether, unimpressed. Qui-Gon considers it a win that he looks at him at all.

“I'm confident,” he says with a twist of his wrench.

Something stops Qui-Gon from telling him about the bet. With what he knows of Ani's abilities, perhaps he assumes the boy already knows. Perhaps he wants to keep it a suprise, when Ani pulls it off. Perhaps he's not sure why.

Neither of them say anything, after that. Qui-Gon watches him for a few minutes more, and then he makes his way back into the house.

Ani stays out for a long while after that.

It’s just as expected. Ani wins easily.

Qui-Gon can’t stop himself from turning to Shmi as the final lap finishes. Her expression is indecipherable, some mix of pride and fear and worry and relief.

Since he chanced upon this odd family, he’s had the sense Shmi knows something of her son’s… oddities. She’s not Force-sensitive, certainly not, and yet…

And yet, there’s something to her. Something that says she is more than aware, that she is wildly, terribly cognizant of something or other that curls in the Force like a warning.

He leans closer. “You knew he could do this.”

She looks up at him, and there’s a sort of guard to her gaze, though her tone is jovial. “He’s my son. Of course I did.”

He almost says, That’s not what I meant.

Instead he says, “You must be proud.”

She does not smile. They both know what he means. “Of course I am.”

He leaves to help her son out of a podracer far too big for him, and he tries not to laugh at the irony of it all.

Qui-Gon finds Ani in the evening, suns setting in the distance. He’s settled himself on a low stone wall, staring out into the wastes.

For a moment Qui-Gon catches him out of the corner of his eye and his silhouette seems much larger than the little boy he is. Qui-Gon sternly tells the Force to stop messing with him.

Ani looks up at him, and Qui-Gon nods his hello, settles beside him. They stay quiet for a long moment. He cuts his losses and starts.

“Do you know what I’m going to ask you?” He asks.

“I can guess,” Ani says in the far-too-old tone of his little voice.

Qui-Gon decides he’s a little bit done treating this kid like one. “You could come with us, if you’d like. I would teach you to be a Jedi.”

“I’ve no interest in the Jedi,” Ani says in a voice that says he very much does indeed have an interest in the Jedi, but Qui-Gon doesn’t point it out.

“That’s your choice. In my eyes, though…” He sighs. “It would be a terrible waste of your talent.”

“No such thing,” Ani huffs. He holds out a hand. “The credits you won.”

Once again, Qui-Gon does not point out he didn’t tell Ani about the credits, about their freedom. Instead, he simply chuckles and hands them over.

Ani cradles them to his chest in the most blatant act of tenderness Qui-Gon’s seen from him. There’s a sort of vulnerability there, like an animal showing its soft belly, and it makes the Jedi want to avert his eyes.

Ani climbs to his feet, then turns back to him.

“When you leave,” he starts. “I expect you to tell no one of my presence here. Mine or my mother’s. You will leave us alone, and the rest of the Jedi will as well.”

Qui-Gon blinks. He feels, again, the pressure of the Force, pulsating around the child in front of him. He has the urge both to pull back and to lean forward, the urge to run and the urge to absorb every bit of information Ani is letting leak through the cracks of his carefully constructed walls.

He’s so terribly intrigued by this boy. He yearns to know where and how he’s learned any of this, who he is, what he is.

But he won’t.

“I understand entirely,” he answers. “Me and mine will be gone by morning.”

Ani shakes his head firmly. “Tonight. You will leave tonight.”

Qui-Gon opens his mouth to protest, and then he catches the look in the kid’s eye. He resists the urge to frown.

This isn’t rudeness. This is a warning.

Finally, he nods. “We’ll leave tonight.”

Ani watches him for a long moment, and Qui-Gon gets the sense he’s being analyzed. He keeps his gaze.

Eventually, Ani must have whatever answer he was looking for, because he nods once, decisively, and turns again to leave.

Qui-Gon watches him disappear into his home and gets the sense that this will be the last time he sees him.

(This is the second chapter of my fic It's Quicker and Easier to Eat Your Young!, which is posted on AO3. The link in my description :))

#personal #star wars #darth vader #anakin skywalker #qui gon jinn #qui-gon jinn #the phantom menace #star wars prequels #star wars fanfiction #sw prequels #sw fanfiction #tpm #shmi skywalker #eldritch horror #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom: star wars #type: fanfic

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edgeofn1ght · 5 months ago

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all you conceal, let out: ch. 3

story summary: After the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, in his grief, takes off on a mission half-cocked to find a lost holocron on Jedha. The next thing he knows, he's waking up injured on a planet he's never seen before, surrounded by calm and an unsettling quiet. Then, after passing out again, he wakes up in a strange home, patched, clean, and safe. And his savior is someone he loved who he didn't think he'd ever see again. Will he be able to get back to his own universe, and does he even want to?

ch. 3: The rain makes Anakin moody, so he does something helpful for Ben.

↳ ch. 1, ch. 2

alternate universe travel • obikin • read on ao3 instead

The next morning Anakin woke up to the sound of rain pouring on the roof. It was a noise he had grown accustomed to after going most of the first nine years of his life without. As a child, at first, the storms were a bit scary. Then rain became a nuisance – how it made it impossible to set up camp outside and how it soaked all your clothes on a mission and you had no time to change. But as he got older, he found rain comforting, particularly the sound on roofs, against window panes, and droplets falling on the leaves of trees. That was something Obi-Wan had taught him as well. His master's appreciation for the cleansing power and renewal the rain brought became appreciated by Anakin, too.

However, now, without the usual morning sunlight, it was harder to tell what time it was. He rolled over and grabbed his communicator, a little surprised to find it was nearly 10. The other difficulty of returning home was he would also most likely return to his impossible sleeping patterns – where he either lost sleep due to his obligations or the nightmares that plagued him.

Anakin suddenly realized that he hadn't had a single nightmare since arriving. In fact, so far, he had only had nice dreams about Obi-Wan. Nice, pleasant dreams…

He flopped back onto the empty bed.

He felt bad for taking Ben's bed, but if he was anything like Obi-Wan (and he seemed to be in all the ways that truly mattered), he would continue to insist that Anakin take it as the guest. Especially as a guest who needed to heal. He looked down at the bandage on his side – at least there was no blood now. Not that he would have minded being treated by Ben again. His skin tingled when he thought of how he had gently run his fingers all over Anakin’s scars. He did want that again, but he couldn't exactly just march in the front room and demand it.

He forced his thoughts to focus instead on what they could do today, cooped up in the small house together and unable to go outside.

Ben couldn't garden in the pouring rain.

Anakin got up quickly, went to the fresher, then slipped on his under tunic. When he left the bedroom, he was met with an empty living room and the sound of silence.

"Ben?" He called as he walked through the small house. If Ben was here, he most certainly would have heard him by now.

Anakin stepped out onto both porches searching in the surrounding fields to see if he could catch a glimpse of him working outside in the rain like a damn fool. But he wasn't. It was, however, a nice moment to stand on the porch and really enjoy the rain. He watched as it fell steadily, watering the earth and Ben’s garden. The morning was much cooler than he expected and he shivered.

Suddenly, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The man in question walked out of the outbuilding where he kept his speeder and all his equipment and straight out into the rain. Anakin assumed Ben had left him and gone to town, but he should have known he'd be in the one place Anakin didn't even think to look.

Ben walked at a normal pace, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he was getting soaked. His gaze remained down on his path as he made his way back towards the house. It was only when he got to the bottom step that he looked up in surprise.

"Anakin!" He was soaked through to the skin, wearing the same shirt from the evening before, but now it was clinging to his skin and nearly see through. His wet hair hung down over his forehead and across his eyes, and droplets of water fell from his beard at random intervals. He walked up the steps until they stood almost toe-to-toe – wet boots to bare feet.

"I thought you'd left," Anakin blinked.

Ben pushed his hair back off his forehead, running his fingers through it. It was the first time he had looked older and a bit less like his Obi-Wan, but he was still just as handsome. Anakin watched transfixed as he ran his hand over and across his beard, wicking away all the extra water he could.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think to leave a note since I was only out back." The corner of his mouth turned up in a small grin. Then, before Anakin knew what was happening, Ben took off his shirt and wrung it out on the porch. "Where did you think I'd gone?" Ben looked at him, eyebrow raised. Anakin was struggling to meet his gaze.

He shrugged. "Uh, out? To town? Your garden?"

Ben chuckled as he shook more excess water out of his shirt. "Not in this. If it was raining less, I might have been able to go, but it was a bit much for the speeder at the time."

When Ben reached for the closure of his trousers, Anakin quickly turned towards the outbuilding. "Do you uh… do you want me to look at the engine?"

He turned back at the sound of thumping behind him. Ben had draped his shirt over his shoulder and was hopping around as he attempted to take off his boots. Anakin would watch just to laugh if it wasn't for the fact that the man was half dressed and now his trousers were unbuttoned too, so he had to look away.

"I told you I knew something about engines?" Anakin said very much not looking at Ben as he heard him removing his trousers. "I built a podracer as a kid on Tatooine."

"Did you now?" Ben asked from behind him. "Well that is very impressive. You're welcome to look at that ancient speeder whenever you like, but it's old and certainly seen better days, I'm not so sure much can be done for her, but… I believe you could."

Anakin turned back just a quarter of the way. He was afraid of turning to find a completely naked Ben standing there. But Ben's belief in him, that he said such a thing out loud… rendered Anakin speechless. "Okay, well, I'm going… boots," he said quickly, still very much avoiding Ben. “Yeah, my boots.”

"It can wait!" He heard Ben shout as he disappeared back inside, never looking back.

It was very important that it didn't wait. He couldn't wait. He couldn't stand around and wait while Ben stood naked, or nearly naked, right in front of him. A complete stranger ! Of course he'd seen Obi-Wan in varying stages of dress and undress over the years. It was something that just happened , and they couldn't afford to be worried or weird about their nakedness – it was just a way of life.�� But he didn't know this Obi-Wan. And he certainly didn't know Anakin! So that he was so easy and free with undressing in front of him was very confusing.

Anakin didn't even wait for Ben after he pulled on his boots, instead preferring to head straight outside without even giving him so much as a goodbye. It was most definitely still raining, but he was so buzzed and full of energy, despite only just waking up and not having any breakfast, that he ran straight out to the barn and managed not to get quite so wet.

Finally out in the barn, mostly free from the thoughts of Ben, Anakin got into something he had always loved – machines.

The man wasn't lying when he said the speeder was ancient, that much had been clear even when they rode to town the day before. But seeing it up close and under the hood told more of the story. It was hanging on for dear life. It probably would have been best if the man just scrapped it for parts and got something new. Or, new er .

Anakin stuck his head inside the engine then crawled underneath the carriage to inspect it, making mental notes of what it needed. He had a sneaking suspicion Ben was not going to have the money for the parts needed to repair it, and he had very little money in his own belt, so he wasn't sure what he was going to do. But he knew one thing for sure – the labor would be free. Ben did say he didn't owe him, and Anakin believed that, but he also knew he did want to pay him back in some way before he left.

Which… every time he thought about it, he was hit with something like melancholy. Of leaving the beautiful planet and the small, idyllic life Ben had built for himself far away from war. Just having Obi-Wan again alone was enough to keep Anakin here forever. Or as long as Ben would have him. How could he return to a world that Obi-Wan was no longer in?

After fully inspecting the speeder, Anakin looked around the barn. The rain was slacking off, so maybe if he waited just a little bit longer he could keep from getting wet. There was nothing special, just farm equipment and tool storage along with a not insignificant food supply, most likely for the winter. Or maybe even to share with others who lived around here. There was nothing that really told him anything about Ben except what he already knew – somehow, in this universe, he'd made it as a farmer.

"A man of your talents…" Anakin whispered to himself.

Once the rain had slowed to a drizzle, Anakin went back to the house. The sky was still grey and overcast, but patches of blue were trying to break through as low-hanging clouds passed overhead quickly. Mostly Anakin was sure he'd given Ben enough time to get dressed. That was the most important part. And thankfully, he had.

When he walked into the kitchen, Ben was standing at the counter cutting tomatoes and some other vegetable Anakin didn't recognize.

"Alright, then, Anakin?" He asked as he turned around.

"Yes, I…" It was so difficult to focus on anything ever when Ben just stood around so effortlessly handsome all the time. "Well, your speeder is old,” he finally blurted out.

Ben laughed at that. "I believe I did say so."

"Yes, well," Anakin waved his hand dismissively and stepped closer. "Like, I-don't-know-how-you-still-drive-it old. Ben, how do you still drive it?"

Without answering, Ben stuck the tip of his thumb in his mouth then closed the gap between them. He reached out and rubbed his wet thumb across Anakin's cheek then his jaw. Anakin stiffened and his eyes widened.

"You had a bit of oil on you there," he said as he cleaned the smudges away. This close to the man, he could smell him. He smelled clean, with an underlying hint of fresh tomatoes and wet earth.

"Oh," Anakin lifted his hand to his face where Ben had just cleaned the skin.

Ben turned back to his task, clearly unaware of the effect he had on Anakin. "As for how I drove it, well, on a prayer to the Stewjoni gods," he chuckled. "Speaking of which, now that it's stopped raining for a bit, I thought I'd go into town and off-load some of these tomatoes, would you–"

"I'll do it!" Anakin nearly shouted. Ben turned again, wide-eyed. "I mean, I can go for you. I saw you with that man yesterday, I can handle it. And I can look for parts there."

"Anakin, that's awfully kind of you, but like I told you, I don't have the money."

"It's fine, Ben."

"What do you mean fine ? They won't give them to you for free."

Anakin smiled, "Just trust me."

Anakin didn't know the Stewjoni gods, but he had no problem begging the Force to allow him to arrive in town without breaking down. He seriously didn't know how Ben did this constantly.

The sun was now attempting to break through, and combined with the earlier rain, the air felt cooler, crisp, and cleaner. He inhaled deeply – it was nothing like the manufactured atmosphere on Coruscant and certainly nothing like the dusty, dirty air on Tatooine. When he was nearly in town, he noticed that he was apparently not the only one who went outside as soon as the rain stopped. The market was bustling with vendors setting up and buyers already making their way through the stalls.

He parked the speeder where Ben had previously, then found the Devaronian Ben dealt with the day before.

"You're back?" He narrowed his eyes.

"I am," his answer punctuated by dropping the heavy bag of tomatoes on the man's cart.

"Where's Kenobi?"

"He's busy, I'm here to negotiate for him today." If only his Obi-Wan could hear and see him now.

The Devaronian let out a rough chuckle that sounded more like a growl. "Are you indeed? And what makes you think I'll negotiate with you… Markl, was it?"

Anakin nodded confidently then took a deep breath and raised his hand. "You will negotiate with me."

The Devaronian squinted. "I will… huh?"

"You will negotiate with me. You will give me 100, no 150!, credits for this harvest." He pushed the suggestion harder.

"I will… give you 150 credits," he replied.

"Great," Anakin said as he watched the vendor get his money. "And don't ever think about cheating Ben Kenobi again."

"I won't ever cheat Ben Kenobi again," he repeated, eyes glazed over.

Anakin raised two fingers to his forehead in salute. "Nice doing business with you."

He walked away with a bounce in his step, pleased with himself. Ben wouldn't need to know how he got a fair price (plus a little extra), but he couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he gave him the credits.

Next, Anakin made his way to the mechanic's shop. The owner was a bit tougher to get through, but Anakin still managed to get the most important and needed parts for a significantly reduced price. Something more in line with what they should be, and not a ridiculous market price. Weirdly, the human male was slightly less susceptible to the force suggestion, despite his best efforts.

As he walked out of the shop, he suddenly became aware of how hungry he was. Since he hadn't eaten yet today, surely Ben wouldn't mind him stopping for a bite; it wasn't like he had to be anywhere anyway. So he went to the only place he knew - the cantina. Once inside, he sidled up to the bar and was met by Scrappie.

"What can I get for you today? I remember you, friend of Ben," he said in his robotic voice.

Anakin smiled, "How about a jawa juice and whatever burger you recommend." He was surprised to find he suddenly missed and craved Dex's Diner.

"Coming right up, friend of Ben,” he said as he rolled away. Anakin clasped his hands on the bar in front of him and twiddled his thumbs.

"Friend of Ben, did he say? Ben Kenobi?” The question came from an old woman who sat at one of the small tables very nearby. Anakin watched her as she picked up her drink and came to the bar.

Her hair was pure white. She reminded him a bit of Jocasta Nu, except her hair was always pulled back in a neat bun, and this woman's hair was long and free. And also Master Nu didn't wear an eye patch.

"Uh, yes?" Anakin finally answered.

"Lovely," the woman said as she took a long sip from her tall ale. "He needed someone out there."

Now she had his interest piqued, so he played along. "Oh, yes, it's a lot of work for one person."

"I told him he needed someone, I'm glad he finally took my advice," she said, sticking her finger up in the air as if to punctuate her sentence. "I must say though, I didn't expect he would find someone so pretty."

Anakin's smile turned to confusion then nervous laughter then a tiny bit of pride. "Well, thank you? I think."

At that moment, the bartender droid came back with Anakin's drink. "Here we are, friend of Ben."

"Thanks, Scrappie."

"And so polite, too, yes, you'll do indeed," the woman added. "Ever since I met him, he's had hermit tendencies, but I told him, I said, 'you can't do that work out there all on your own! Even with your classes, it's not enough.'"

"Too right," Anakin agreed as he took a drink.

"'Get you a wife! Or husband!' I says to him, 'a partner! You need a partner!'"

Anakin choked on his drink, coughing into his cup. "I'm sorry, what!?"

"A partner!" She repeated louder. Anakin coughed again. He could even feel his face turning red. "Where'd you meet then? Where'd he pick you up?"

Scrappie saved the day by bringing his meal and setting it down in front of him. It would be something else to focus on. He took a large bite of the burger then answered with his mouth full. "I'm from Coruscant."

Her eyes lit up. "Coruscant! Oh! Well, aren't you fancy then?" Anakin shook his head – why did everyone think he was ‘fancy’ just being from Coruscant? "I didn't know Ben ever went to Coruscant. Maybe it was long ago. Or oh, maybe he found you on the holonet, eh?" She winked with her one good eye and he almost choked again. He couldn't be sure what exactly she was implying. He probably needed to set the record straight immediately, but instead he stuffed fried tubers in his mouth.

"Oh, he deserves the happiness," she said as she took another long gulp of her drink, finishing it off.

I know he does , he thought to himself.

She stuck her finger in Anakin's face. "Make him happy or you'll answer to us!"

Why would that be up to him? Did she really think he could even do it? Did he , for that matter? He was leaving in just a few days, and Ben would be alone once again. It couldn't be up to Anakin to make Ben happy. And Anakin… he would go back to the war and to his life as a Jedi without his old master. Without Obi-Wan. He wasn't exactly going back to his own happiness.

"I'm Ver, by the way," she said, slapping a credit on the counter top. "And I'll be keeping my good eye on you." She cackled as she passed by and left the cantina.

Despite his embarrassment and her forthrightness, he did wish he'd gotten more of a chance to talk to her. He wondered how well she knew Ben. It sounded like very well since she was so protective of him. He could have asked her so many questions. Maybe he would run into her again.

Anakin got another jawa juice, finished his meal alone, then got up to return home. Or rather, to Ben's home – it wasn't his. As he trudged back to the speeder, all he could think of was what Ver had said about Ben being lonely here and how she wanted to see him happy. And she thought Anakin was here to do that. As he drove back to Ben's home, the same questions ran through his head over and over again: could he make Ben happy? Could Ben make him happy?

His gut reaction was a resounding yes, but he reminded himself that he didn’t actually know this Obi-Wan – they had no history, no past, no real relationship. He needed to remind himself of that a bit more when he found himself falling into the trap of thinking he really knew the man. But then… even if they didn't have a past, couldn't they have a future? He found that question much easier to answer. Undoubtedly, yes they could.

The sun had broken through the clouds while he’d been inside the cantina, but as he drove back home, the sky clouded over and it looked again like rain. He pulled the speeder up to the barn, opened the door, then drove in. He was rather surprised to not see Ben outside. He figured the man would take every opportunity to be outside working when he was able, devoted to his craft in every life.

As he headed back towards the house, the credits clinked in his pocket. His excitement to tell Ben made him pick up his pace slightly.

He burst in through the bank door, "Ben!" But all was quiet. "Ben?"

He made a quick circuit through the small house, and when he didn't find him inside he went into the front porch. “Ben?" He stopped mid-stride when he found him.

Ben sat in his wooden rocker, reading. When he looked up at Anakin, he removed his glasses. Glasses!? Obi-Wan had never worn glasses.

"Anakin," he smiled. He was wearing a loose tunic the color of the deep sea and grey trousers. He had forgone any shoes, and looked relaxed. "You returned yet again."

Barely recovered from Ben in his glasses, Anakin took a seat on the other chair nearby. "You were afraid I was going to steal your speeder and never return, weren't you?"

Ben chuckled, "Oh yes, absolutely. I imagined you, wind whipping through your hair as you drove through the Stewjonian wheat fields at a top speed of 15 knots."

Anakin huffed a laugh. "I made it to the edge of the wheat field then it broke down."

"Yes, that sounds correct." Ben shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other at the knee. "Well, then since you weren't able to make it far and had to return to me, what did you do the rest of your time away? What mischief did you cause?"

Return to me. The simple throwaway line echoed in Anakin's head.

"Ah yes," he dug into his pocket and pulled out the stack of credits. "Seventy five credits."

Ben’s eyes went wide as he slowly held out his hand. "Sev… seventy five?? Anakin, that can't be right." He glanced down at the stack confused.

"Well, it was 150 but I used some of it to buy the most-needed parts for your speeder, so I could try to fix it. You know, before I left."

"150!? How??" The man looked truly stunned but grinned widely. A bit of pride and happiness took root in Anakin's chest. He did that. He had made Ben happy.

"A trade secret, I should think."

"Are you sure you need to return to Coruscant? I could use a shrewd partner like you." He said as he began to count the credits.

He needs a partner! The voice of Ver repeated in his head. But surely he didn’t mean…

"How did you manage to get parts for the speeder so cheaply as well?"

Anakin’s attention snapped back to the present. "Uh… well, like I said, I know my way around machines and shops, and sellers like these. I know how they operate and think," he said tapping his temple with a small grin.

Ben's face softened. "Thank you, Anakin."

Anakin could only smile back, a reply with actual words caught in his throat.

Ben put his glasses back on. "You are a surprising thing, aren't you?" He smiled at Anakin again then returned to his datapad.

Anakin would have given anything to have Obi-Wan – Ben – look at him like that forever. And ever and ever and –

He should get up and go work on the speeder. He should be contacting Coruscant. He should be planning his trip home. He didn’t belong here.

He should

He looked out across the fields and sat still, listening to the sounds of nature and watching the next storm roll in across the mountains immediately east. A bit of thunder rumbled in the distance but it didn't bother him whatsoever. Ben was a steady thrumming of life in the force next to him, and Anakin once again felt… calm. At peace.

Is this what Obi-Wan had always meant by teaching him meditation? His thoughts were clearer here away from the war, his responsibilities, his fears of losing everyone. It would be beautiful to just sit here and have a chance to grow old.

"Are you happy?" He asked suddenly. His voice sounded too loud to his own ears in the quiet of their surroundings.

Ben looked at him from above his glasses then took them off again. "That's a strange question." Anakin shrugged and Ben leaned back in his chair. "I have my own home on a beautiful piece of land in the Mor Valley with a decent farm where I can feed myself and others… I am content."

"Content is not necessarily happy," Anakin replied. "And those are all things . Things that could be taken from you in an instant."

Ben’s brow furrowed. "Well it's certainly something I've thought of. I'd have to be pretty naive to think otherwise."

"What are you missing?" He wasn't sure why he was asking. How would he even respond if Ben gave him an answer he didn't know what to do with.

"I'd like to think I'm not missing anything,” Ben answered simply. “And if I was, I would hope I'd try not to dwell on it because it can't change my circumstances. I mean, I miss my family, how could I not? But is wishing for them going to bring them back from the dead?"

Anakin huffed then stood and walked to the other end of the porch. Ben was actually more like Obi-Wan than he realized. Hadn't he said something similar about Master Qui-Gon? Siri Tachi? Of course they couldn't wish anyone back, but didn't the injustice of it all ever make him angry? Anakin wouldn't know, his Obi-Wan never gave any indication. And now this Obi-Wan in a completely different reality was exactly the same.

He knew how he felt of course. Not a day went by where he didn't miss his mother. And the day he joined the Jedi, his family grew exponentially. Obi-Wan had become his family.

Then his mother was snatched away.

Then Obi-Wan.

Ahsoka could be, too. Quite easily.

"So even if I did have them, or someone else, here with me, you know that they could be taken in an instant, too," Ben added. “It's not only things.”

"Of course I know that!" Anakin snapped back. "You were–" No, this Obi-Wan couldn't know that. It was better for everyone if he didn't. Thunder rumbled loudly across the valley, startling them both back to their present situation.

"Perhaps we should go inside," Ben said as he stood. "There's always work to be done inside as well."

Anakin shook his head, "I'll be in the barn. I'll work on the speeder."

Obi-Wan hesitated a moment then looked bank at Anakin before he stepped over the threshold. "As you wish, Anakin." He looked… sad.

Anakin had done that. He'd not made him happy.

Anakin threw himself wholly into working on the speeder as the storm approached then the rain lashed at the side of the building. He found the sound, plus the focus on his work, drowned out the noise in his head for once. He didn't have to focus on meditation or getting home or contacting the Temple. He could just use his hands to work and fix something. It gave him peace.

Eventually, the light in the barn began to dim signaling the end of the day. The rain had slacked off somewhat again, but remained steady. He lost track of time but he'd most likely been out there for hours, and Ben hadn't bothered to come get him. He frowned as he closed the hood of the speeder and wiped his hands on his trousers. He got into the driver seat and started her up. The engine roared to life, then choked and sputtered momentarily before evening out to a hum. With no knocking. Anakin smiled broadly, pleased with himself.

"You son of a bitch," he laughed.

Just then the barn door opened, revealing Ben. "Anakin, are you – wait, you did it??" He walked quickly to the driver's side of the speeder and looked on in awe. "You did it!"

Anakin suddenly felt oddly shy. Normally, he'd be the one reminding Obi-Wan of how capable he was. "Well, it's not perfect , I'm not a miracle worker."

Ben laughed as he clapped Anakin on the shoulder. "As good as! The knocking is gone!"

His shoulder felt warm in Ben's grip. "Well, I… I did what I could." He raised his head, daring to look at him.

When he looked up, the man was staring down at him, a big grin on his face. "Thank you, Anakin, you're amazing, and you've done me a great service. I don't really know what to say other than that."

He wanted to wave it off. He felt warmth spread through his body at the praise. "It's the least I could do for what you've done for me."

Ben squeezed his shoulder once more as Anakin turned off the speeder. "I nearly forgot what I came out here for," he finally said with a chuckle. "Dinner is ready if you'd like to eat."

"Oh, sure," he replied as he got out of the speeder. "Just let me clean up."

"I insist," Ben smiled. "You're quite a mess."

The tightness in Anakin's chest dissipated a bit, and he felt lighter again. He hoped Ben wouldn't stay mad at him. That was the last thing he wanted.

Their dinner passed with little to no conversation. Ben thanked him several more times then asked for a run-through of how Anakin fixed the speeder, but after that, they lapsed back into silence. A slightly uncomfortable silence.

Long moments went by before Anakin spoke again. "I'm sorry… for earlier."

Ben looked up from his plate, "There's nothing to forgive, Anakin."

He huffed, "Yes, there is. I shouldn't have spoken like that. To you. A man who's only tried to help me since I crashed into his life."

"All is forgiven then," he said with a shrug.

Anakin suddenly felt an overwhelming sadness at never being able to apologize to his Obi-Wan again. For letting him down, for not living up to Obi-Wan’s expectations, and what he believed Anakin could be. He wanted to apologize for the way Master Qui-Gon treated him after they returned to Coruscant, casting him aside to train Anakin. He wanted to apologize for every secret he kept, and he had a few growing like a dark spot on his heart. He could never confess to this Obi-Wan about what he had done on Tatooine after his mother died… about his old feelings for Padmé. Tears pricked at his eyes again and he stood quickly, clearing his side of the table.

"Anakin, are you okay?" He heard Ben asking the question as he came closer to where Anakin stood at the sink.

"I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice from wavering. "I'm just tired."

His whole body stiffened when he felt that warm hand on his shoulder again. "Then go rest. You still need all the rest you can get so you can heal."

He nodded abruptly then pulled away, never meeting Ben’s gaze. A ll the rest in the world could never heal his broken heart.

The next few days passed with very limited interaction between the two. The weather was nice again, and cooler after the rain, so Ben was outside working most of the time. He had several classes, and Anakin was glad because it kept him busy. And he seemed happiest when he was teaching.

Anakin tuned up the speeder some more then took it out for long drives at Ben’s insistence. He supposed Ben was tired of him pathetically moping around the farm. Of course, he never said that, but he told him to take it on drives and sometimes gave him errands in town. Which Anakin was happy to do for several reasons. Ben also never said anything about Anakin returning, not even one joke about him actually coming back. He just trusted him to return. And he did.

He got to know a few more of the locals in the cantina, made some extra money in a game of dejarik, bought some new clothes, and another part for the speeder. Ben never asked him what he got up to while he was out either, he just accepted whatever money Anakin brought home, always surprised by the amount.

And just like that, his time on Stewjon was nearing its end.

#obikin #my writing #never a jedi au #alternate universe #universe travel #obi wan x anakin #fanfic #i do love a flustered anakin

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