Fic: SW A New Path Obi-Wan/Anakin Complete

[chase_acow]

Title: A New Path
Author: Almie sly_bone
Fandom: Star Wars: RotS
Pairing: Obi-Wan/Anakin + Padme
Rating: NC-17 (light)
Summery: Immediately after Padme begs Anakin to go away with her, she, Obi-Wan, and Anakin all make different decisions. Figuring out their new complicated relationship is not easy, but might lead to a better ending.
Disclaimer: I only get to pretend to be god (George Lucas) once a year, and surprisingly not on Oct 31st. I make no money and mean no disrespect.

Beta by the most wonderful mint_gold without whom, this story would not be as well written. I owe you one! All remaining mistakes are most definitely mine alone.




Obi-Wan looked down startled as his hand flexed involuntarily in its grip upon the space ship as he heard Padme’s plea. Inside him, his soul pulsed and the Force quivered, and in that instant, he knew what he needed to do. His tenuous half-plan of confronting Anakin deserted him for a new one he didn’t understand, that he questioned as he hadn’t in years. Perhaps that was were he’d gone astray, he pondered, as he stepped out onto the landing ramp in full sight of the man he’d thought he’d known and loved as a brother.

Instantly Anakin snarled, his face taking on the characteristics of a playman’s mask, but Obi-Wan began to speak before Anakin could move. “Please, Anakin,” he called out, surprised at the steadiness of his own voice, “listen to her! Come away with us before it’s too late!”

Shifting so that she could keep an eye on either man, Padme shot Obi-Wan a look of surprise equal to the one that now covered Anakin’s face. His former Padawan moved to shield his wife and in the same gesture pulled back his cloak to reveal his lightsaber. It was the same as the last time they’d been together on Coursaunt, and Obi-Wan felt foolish to have imagined that it would have changed.

“Us?” Anakin asked, spitting his question out like a dart, his voice harsh not only from the toxic fumes of the planet. He’d changed so much and yet not at all, and Obi-Wan wondered what else he’d been blind to.

His hands trembled as he held them out to either side of him with his palms facing out. “Anakin, this isn’t the only path set before you. Please, we can get away from all this. Give me the chance to talk to you and understand what you’re going through. The Jedi were wrong, I was wrong. We can go now, and you can watch your children grow old.”

Anakin held up his hand and stopped Obi-Wan, his legs stretched out to begin a next step. His eyes had always been the measure with which to gauge his mood, and now they flickered between hope and fear before settling into the familiar pattern of anger. “She’ll die!” he yelled, emotions rolling off him in waves and threatening to drown all three of them. “I can’t let that happen.”

Padme, turned at that, silently gripping the sleeve of Anakin’s other arm and tugging, waiting for him to face her. Tears ran silently down her cheeks and she reached up to gather them on her fingertips. She smoothed the moisture onto Anakin’s cheek, caressing from eyebrow to jaw line. “Not if you’re with me,” her voice barely rose above a whisper as she pleaded with eyes and words. “Please, if you love me half as much as you say you do, just give us this chance to see what you saw, to feel what you feel.”

Reaching up with his artificial hand, Anakin stroked her hair and murmured, “No one deserves that.” He stood stone still for several prolonged moments, fighting an inner war that Obi-Wan couldn’t begin to comprehend before turning back to him, the steel returned to his gaze, “If I do this, I make no promises.”

“I understand,” Obi-Wan said as he felt relief pour through his entire body. He’d carried only visions of death and grief as he’d snuck aboard the ship, but now he had hope, hope that could so easily be both his salvation and his destruction, but finally he knew he was finally willing to take that chance.

Anakin stalked toward him and if not for the compulsions not to move, Obi-Wan would have had to fight himself not to back up as Anakin advanced so close that if Obi-Wan could move an inch they would be touching. He held his breath as Anakin leaned in even closer, his lips nearly brushing Obi-Wan’s ear, “If I do this, I make no promises except this: you are no longer the Master. I am in charge.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes slid shut and he nodded his assent, feeling as though he’d just bared his throat to a wild beast and came away still breathing. Truthfully, Anakin had never been one to accept orders gracefully, if this was going to work, they’d have to be equals. The Force-tension drained from his body, and he sagged against his friend for a heartbeat before regaining his feet. Anakin stepped back, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips and his former Master’s lightsaber in his hand.

He brushed past Obi-Wan, certain that the other man and Padme would both follow him up the ramp. Padme stared at Obi-Wan, her expression giving no clue as to the inner workings of her mind, and gave him wide berth as she followed her husband. R2 whistled and beeped, his electronic voice sounding sympathetic as he too rolled up the ramp after his master.

Obi-Wan sighed as his shoulders slumped. He gathered what remained of his dignity as well as his robe and held it close trying to warm the cold place inside that even Mustafar couldn’t touch. His mind screamed at him for abandoning everything that he knew, that he’d believed in for his entire life, but the Force whispered that this was only another way. He started into the ship, the light for once not at all comforting, and he knew that the hardest part of his journey still lay before him.

A hand shot out and grabbed him just as he crossed the threshold of the ship. It spun Obi-Wan around with great force and shoved back against the wall, knocking the breath from his body. A black-clad arm held him in place as Anakin planted it across his chest and leaned into Obi-Wan with enough pressure to hurt.

Anakin’s face was close to his, and Obi-Wan could see the track marks that tears had left trailing down his cheek. “I don’t trust you,” Anakin said, cocking his head to the side and waiting for a reply as if all that had happened before was merely an afternoon in the park.

“I don’t blame you,” Obi-Wan’s eyes dropped as visions of every time he’d let Anakin down flashed before his eyes. A hand, far gentler then he probably deserved, pulled his chin up forcing him to meet the other man’s gaze again.

The ramp began folding itself up again, and the engines fired but Anakin was undisturbed neither moving nor shifting his attention. “What are you going to do about it?” he asked, his tone taking on an air of teasing that made Obi-Wan ache for simpler times.

Obi-Wan hesitantly tucked his hand inside Anakin’s robe, placing it on his chest and searching for the heartbeat. He willed his eyes to clear and let Anakin read the truth there as he said simply, “Anything you want me to do.”

Nodding, Anakin backed away and, gesturing for Obi-Wan to follow, led him deeper into the ship. They stopped in front of one of the small chambers designed for the crew to sleep in; Anakin palmed the door open and executed an ironic bow, indicating for Obi-Wan to go in first. “I know there’s not much of a view, but I really can’t have you running around until I’m sure this isn’t a trap,” Anakin said, pulling out force-resistant bonds from the depths of his cloak. He twirled his index finger through the air, motioning for Obi-Wan to turn around so his back would face him.

Doing as he was bid and tucking his hands together in the small of his back, Obi-Wan sighed, “I know, just try not to forget about me this time.”

“I was going to get you out of that cell, I just kept getting distracted is all,” Anakin said reminding him of that ill-fated adventure. The metallic bonds were cold as they buckled onto his wrist; Anakin paused, his thumbs pressing into the center of Obi-Wan’s palms. “I’ll send 3PO in to check on you in a while.”

Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder and smiled sadly at his former Padawan, his fingers caught and grasped Anakin’s, “Thank you, Anakin, for giving me the chance to make my failures up to you.”

Anakin stepped away, confusion written across his face as he shut and locked the door leaving Obi-Wan alone with the person who most relentlessly demanded the answers that he could not give. Himself.



Bright light flooded the small cabin, making Obi-Wan blink owlishly from the position he’d wedged himself into at the corner of the bunk. His hands had long since gone numb since try as he might he couldn’t take the pressure completely off his arms. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed while he’d been in his meditative state, but C-3PO had finally made his promised appearance.

“I really must complain Master Kenobi, this is quite irregular!” the droid whined the instant he was within the room, setting down the tray of snacks and water he carried and activating the light system.

It was a telling sign to Obi-Wan that he was even glad to hear its rather abrasive voice, though he still maintained that it talked too much. Rising to investigate the contents of the tray, he felt his stomach grumble reminding him how long it had been since his last meal. Contrary to popular belief, even Jedi had to eat sometimes. “What’s going on?” he asked, knowing that whatever answer he received should be taken with more then a single grain of salt.

“Only my exile, sir, into the backwater of the galaxy! Really, I must insist that we go back to Coruscant immediately!” 3PO’s gestures grew wilder as the droid’s hysteria increased.

“But where are we going? Tell me 3PO,” Obi-Wan could only hope to get something more substantial from the walking, talking annoyance, but he was not going to hold his breath.

C-3PO shuffled through the small quarters as if he knew the galaxy was out to get him personally. “What does it matter? I shall rust and break and no one will be able to fix me. No one ever takes my needs into consideration.”

“You talk too much, 3PO,” Anakin said lightly, his voice approaching from the hallway. In another second, he was through the doorway and the little room became far too cramped. “Go and remind Padme to actually eat the food that I left out for her.”

“I’m doomed,” 3PO muttered skittering out the door and down the hall, the metallic clank of his feet echoed back for a long minute.

The two Jedi locked gazes and years worth of love, guilt, and hope passed between them before Obi-Wan resigned himself to being the mature one this time and inclined his head politely, “Anakin.”

Anakin did not smile or return the nod, but gestured for Obi-Wan to step closer. The young Jedi closed the last bit of distance between them and moved as if to embrace Obi-Wan, his hands finding the bonds and releasing them. He stayed where he was, however, tossing the restraints onto the bed and gathering up folds of Obi-Wan’s robes to hold him close.

Obi-Wan inhaled the familiar scent of his friend, thinking back to all the times they’d been alone together on remote planets. He remembered the nights they’d shared laying close together and looking up at the stars. They hadn’t had the time or peace to do anything so mundane in years, and Obi-Wan hoped that Anakin missed their camaraderie as much as he did.

“Why?” Anakin questioned, his brows drawn in, wrinkling the scar over is eye. As a Padawan, he’d always reveled in close contact and as comforted as Obi-Wan was that this, at least, had not changed, he couldn’t help but wish that he could have had the space of a moment to compose himself.

Feeling his hands come up as if of their own volition into the familiar clasp inside the sleeves of his robes, he took a deep breath, and looking anywhere but at Anakin, began the speech he’d been working on, ”Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.”

Anakin smiled then. “And your point of view has changed?” he asked his tone mocking in the way that used to rile Obi-Wan like nothing else and now only made him glad of Anakin’s company.

“Yes.”

“No,” Anakin cut him off, moving to force Obi-Wan backwards until the back of his legs hit the bunk and buckled, forcing him to sit down and look up at Anakin who stood close still, nearly between his legs. “I don’t want an answer from Jedi Master Kenobi. I want to talk to Obi-Wan,” Anakin rested his hand on Obi-Wan’s cheek, his thumb rubbing roughly along Obi-Wan’s cheekbone, “To my friend.”

Obi-Wan felt his breath hitch and began to breathe heavier, his chest rising and falling. “I couldn’t lose you,” he said raising his hand to Anakin’s and squeezing slightly. “Yoda sent me to…but I couldn’t. I’ll never.”

“Well, it’s refreshing to know you won’t murder me in my sleep,” Anakin smiled down fondly and then knelt, leaning both elbows on either one of Obi-Wan’s knees growing serious again. “I wanted to tell you. I didn’t want to leave you, but Padme and my child, they needed me. I had to save them. I didn’t know what to do, and the Jedi council would not help.”

Resting his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, he tried to speak firmly, “You don’t have to explain. Of course you should choose them over me.”

To his surprise Anakin’s eyes filled with tears and he started quaking, “You don’t know what I’ve done, what I was going to do,” his voice grew in volume as he spoke and tears began to spill out the corners of his eyes and his lips to tremble. He got up and paced to the other side of the room standing facing the wall and only barely glancing back. “How can you be here with me? Bear to touch me?”

Obi-Wan rose, following Anakin and holding out his hand, wanting to relieve Anakin’s doubt as he’d failed to do before. “Anakin,” he started to say.

“Don’t,” Anakin snapped, moving away abruptly and opening the door. “Stay here and don’t leave until I come back for you.” Then he was gone.

His mind in turmoil: Obi-Wan stepped to the door and leaned his head against the cool metal. His life had never been so complicated before, his thoughts had never rebelled so, and his heart had never broken this badly. The only person he wanted to spend his life with was the same man who had slaughtered his entire life’s workings. He’d have to reconcile himself to that soon, or even his love wouldn’t save them.



The next time the light unexpectedly shown through the door, Obi-Wan barely had time enough to try to blink the sleep confusion from his eyes before a solid weight settled on his chest, pinning him down. He knew at once it was Anakin and relaxed, allowing his head to fall back on the pillow as he waited for him to give some clue as to his motive. Anakin’s eyes seemed to glow in the darkness and Obi-Wan could see the younger man was wearing only the thinnest and loosest of shirts over his pants. The blanket covering him did little to deflect the heat that radiated off Anakin from where he sat above him, thighs stretched out on either side of his chest.

“Do you love me, Master?” Anakin asked suddenly, sounding for the entire world as if the last five years had not occurred and he thought Obi-Wan was still a man to look up to. His hair fell around his face, curling randomly and giving him the look of a demented angel.

Shifting, becoming nervous of both their reactions, Obi-Wan placed his hands on Anakin’s hips hoping he could manage some more room for himself. But he had no such luck, as Anakin refused to budge an inch. “I’m not your Master anymore, Anakin,” he said.

“Just answer the question, Obi-Wan. Do. You. Love. Me?” Anakin made each word into its own complete thought and leaned over as he did until he was sharing even Obi-Wan’s breath.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan whispered, irrationally afraid that anything louder would wake him up from this dream.

Then the galaxy imploded around him and he knew this was no simple nighttime fantasy. Anakin’s lips were warm and soft as they slid against his own gently convincing him to open his mouth wider and to tilt his head back. Obi-Wan moved his hands up and under Anakin’s shirt, his rough skin caressing up and down the scarred back. He twisted and flexed, moaning into the younger man, prompting Anakin to move his attention down to kiss along his jaw and throat.

“What about Padme?” he asked breathlessly as soon as he could force his tongue to make the proper movements. He knew this couldn’t happen, knew the thousand reasons why, and yet he hoped that Anakin wouldn’t care.

Anakin moved over, his body coming to rest on the mattress and pressing hard against Obi-Wan’s side. He brought one hand up, tangling it in the older Jedi’s hair while the other searched across Obi-Wan’s chest. “She’s known how I feel about you for a long time,” Anakin seemed to drawl, much more interested in investigating the skin beneath Obi-Wan’s ear.

Obi-Wan rolled his head over, wanting to continue the conversation only to be caught up in another scorching kiss. He was losing the battle swiftly and barely had the presence of mind to push Anakin away enough to ask another question, “But does she know about this?”

Panting softly and pausing in his attempt to sneak a hand in Obi-Wan’s shirt, Anakin looked down at Obi-Wan, “She’s shared me with you since the first day I met you. The fact that we’re only now completing our relationship really doesn’t change anything.”

Suddenly, Anakin rolled on top of Obi-Wan, pressing the full length of himself down on Obi-Wan for the first time, and Obi-Wan knew the conversation was over. Anakin wiggled, bringing their groins into contact, and even through clothing and the blanket, the pleasure was one Obi-Wan couldn’t remember reveling in before. Now the blanket had become only an annoyance that he was determined to get rid of and Anakin took pity on him, lifting his body and allowing for one less barrier to be in their way.

Blood rushed through his body, and the Force hummed in his ears, as Anakin settled down a little lower on his body, nudging Obi-Wan’s legs apart to give him room. He pushed Obi-Wan’s shirt up out of the way, placed a tender kiss on the smooth skin just above his navel, and began working his way down.

“Anakin, I haven’t done this in a very long time,” he could hear a hint of hysteria in his voice, but Obi-Wan couldn’t help it. So much of his time recently had been spent telling his body not to want touch, not to ever expect it again that all this was nearing sensory overload.

Looking up from his ministrations on Obi-Wan’s lower stomach, Anakin regarded his former Master for a moment, “You seem to be doing fine, Obi-Wan, but of course I’ll have to wait until after we’re done to give you your full performance report.”

He sighed, knowing that Anakin’s sense of humor was more then half his fault and that he fully deserved the teasing now. “I’m sure that cheek of yours could be put to a better use,” Obi-Wan returned, determined to hold his own. He lifted his hips pointedly, and tangled his hand in the short hair just above Anakin’s neck.

Anakin chuckled and finished unlacing Obi-Wan’s trousers, tugging them down just enough so that they still bound his legs. The thin undergarments were easy to move away, and Anakin found himself on eye level with Obi-Wan’s cock. Obi-Wan groaned at the sight of his former student studying him with all the studiousness he’d never show for his other work.

The first lick was nearly his undoing. His back arched and his fingers clenched over the bed sheets, and when a moment later, Anakin blew a soft current of air over the wetness, Obi-Wan knew he wouldn’t last long. He looked down, using his eyes to plead with Anakin not to tease him.

He was swallowed whole. Anakin took everything that made Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan and put only himself back. Soft moans fell from Obi-Wan’s lips not to be stopped even if he had wanted to try. It had been so long since he’d given himself up to pleasures of the flesh, but he knew in his heart that it had never been as good as this.

He surged up with his completion, and Anakin went with him, holding and swallowing every drop. Sweat stood out on his neck and Anakin made sure to lick that away as well, following the tendons and pausing in ever valley. Casually, Anakin left his head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, breathing deeply of their combined scents.

“What about you?” Obi-Wan asked when he’d regained his breath, tenderly brushing his fingers through Anakin’s hair. He reveled in the solid weight beside him and wondered how he’d ever spent so many nights living without it.

Anakin smiled, and kissed Obi-Wan on the lips, chastely, “I’m going to wait.”

But Anakin never waited for anything, not when he wanted it and suddenly, Obi-Wan had the premonition that this had all been a game to Anakin, some kind of diversion just to see how far he could push the Jedi Master. After all, he realized, Anakin never returned his declaration of love.

Something of what he was thinking must have shown on his face because Anakin quickly pulled him into another blazingly possessive kiss. “I’m waiting until I can be inside you. Until I can truly make you mine,” he whispered against Obi-Wan’s lips, trembling as much as Obi-Wan did.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan started, but Anakin shushed him, preferring to speak with touches and sighs. In those moments they reconnected all ties that had become so strained between them, and they were twined tighter then they’d ever been before.

Sometime later, when Obi-Wan was drifting through reality, Anakin got up and began putting his clothes back in order. Obi-Wan didn’t say anything, knowing there was nothing he could say. What had just happened had been, until so very recently, beyond the scope of his imagination. Padme was still a dear friend, but now Anakin was dearer still, and as complicated as his life had been before, he had no point of reference for what it was now.

“Obi-Wan, some day I won’t have to leave you in the middle of the night,” Anakin promised, breaking the silence and standing so that the light from the hallway glowed around him. “You’re free to move around the ship however you like. I’ll see you for breakfast.”




Wakefulness prodded at the edge of Obi-Wan’s consciousness but he kept his eyes shut and turned, pressing his face into his pillow. The scent of Anakin invaded his senses, reminding him of pleasant jolts of energy sizzling through his entire body. The battle to sleep was lost as he bolted awake, sitting up and combing his hair away from his face with a trembling hand. His breathing was as erratic as his thoughts, and he hadn’t felt this lost in a long time.

Quickly he slipped from the bed and knelt on the floor in a position so natural he could have fallen into it half-dead. He centered his breathing, concentrating on filling his lungs and empting them completely. The environment around him faded away, and he turned his attention inward, not connected to anything and attuned to himself. As soon as he was comfortable even he started to fade away: gone was his morning headache and the gummy taste in his mouth. He was one light among many, and he floated searching for answers.

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” the soft voice broke through his concentration, and Obi-Wan fell back into his quarters with an abruptness that was akin to the whiplash he’d received the first time he’d let Anakin drive a speeder. Padme stood before him dressed in a simple gown, but looking every bit as queenly as she ever did. Her hair was falling loose down her shoulders, framing her face that wore an expression of polite amusement.

“You Jedi, I swear. If you talked to each other half as much as you ‘commune’ with the Force, I doubt this situation would have occurred,” Padme, ever the consummate politician sounded as if she was discussing the weather, but Obi-Wan could feel the steel beneath the words. “Annie asked me to tell you that if you’re finished trying to rationalize, breakfast is ready.”

Obi-Wan stood, feeling his knees pop as he straightened and his back spasm as he stretched; he hated the feeling of getting old. He turned and reached for his outer tunic and belt, which he’d carefully folded and set out of the way last night. He still didn’t know how his position had changed since then but the Force was bright within him and he didn’t know what to make of it.

A small hand closed over his stopping him from shaking his clothing out. He turned and Padme graced him with a small smile. “Do you really think you need all that?” she asked softly. “Clothing can’t be the shield it once was. Trust me, I know.”

A blush furiously spread across Obi-Wan’s face, but it only seemed to amuse Padme more. He dropped his clothes in a heap and moved away, raking both hands through his hair and doing his best to tuck his shirt tighter around him. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” he said

“Please, Obi-Wan, how old are we to be embarrassed by this?” Padme asked, sounding like one of his teachers when he was being exceptionally dense. “I admit that it wasn’t what I had in mind when I married Anakin three years ago, but-”

“You’re married?” Obi-Wan interrupted with a croak, abandoning his effort to try to make himself look presentable. He sat down on the edge of the bed and stared out at nothing, “He never told me, I never guessed.”

Padme rolled her eyes, and the action sent him into a chagrined grin, seeing the humor in what he’d just said. She stepped over to him and took him by the arm, gently steering him toward the door, “You look fine, and you should know better then to make a pregnant lady wait for her food.”

They walked together through the hallway, the silence that he was normally so comfortable in becoming nearly unbearable. “Padme?” He cleared his throat, sounding a little painful, “I just wanted to say that I didn’t come here to… I mean, it’s just that I’m-”

It was Padme’s turn to cut him off then, and she did it with a violent tug on his arm, her fingernails digging into his flesh. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry!” She said angrily. “This could have turned out so much worse. If the price we have to pay is to share him with each other in order for him to be whole and happy, then it is a price I would pay ten times over.”

Obi-Wan could only nod dumbly in the face of her fervor; apparently, she was not as overwhelmed as he was over this new turn of events. Her acceptance, if not calm, was certainly a boost to what the Force had already been telling him. She stared into his eyes for a long hard moment before breaking the contact and resuming pulling him onwards.

They paused at the last intersection of hallways before the kitchen area. Padme stopped him once more but this time with a soft hand upon his upper arm. Obi-Wan waited while she searched for the words she wanted; finally, she blinked and seemed to make up her mind. “Obi-Wan,” she started, “if you hurt Anakin, I’ll kill you myself.”

For several long moments, Obi-Wan searched her face and finally felt himself relax, content with what he found there. At this moment, Padme and he were so in tune with the same wants and desires, that she could have been a sibling he’d never known. He took her hand, kissed the back of it, and then held it between both of his, “I understand.” She smiled and they turned, walking hand in hand, into the brightly lit kitchen.

The table dominating the small room was set up with breakfast for three, and Anakin was already halfway into his. “Well, I can see I’ll have to keep my eye on you two,” Anakin said without looking up, his voice sounding almost cheery as he continued slathering his toast with preserves.

Obi-Wan tried to drop Padme’s hand, but she held on. “You should remember that the next time you try something so foolish again,” she said, leading Obi-Wan to the table and forcing him to sit in the chair nearest Anakin. “Either that or expect to be beat with a large blunt object.”

Trying not to look like he was bracing for the explosion he just knew was about to happen, Obi-Wan shuffled his chair as far back as he could. The thin shirt seemed far inadequate to protect him from their stares, so he coughed softly and reached for the platter of meat, keeping an eye on Anakin as he did so.

“Why I ever thought to put the galaxy in your hands, I’ll never know,” Anakin said standing to hold the remaining chair out for Padme to sit. He placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them slightly and smiling in fondness. He ran his fingers through the flow of her hair twining it gently around his wrist before releasing it and sitting back down.

Anakin shifted as he sat, moving one leg to brush against Obi-Wan’s and he felt very grateful for the small touch. He knew he’d have to get over this feeling of nervousness, if he expected to be able to protect Anakin and Padme. They were all each other had now, and he’d eat his own lightsaber before he let anything happen to them.

“Is anyone going to be looking for you?” Anakin asked his casual tone belying the fact that he studied Obi-Wan very carefully as he asked the question.

“Yoda was the last one I talked to. We changed the signal in the Temple to warn away other Jedi, but he didn’t seem to think there were any more left,” Obi-Wan pushed the food around his plate trying to beat down the memories of the Temple. “He was going after Palpatine, but I don’t know what happened.”

Anakin’s eyes unfocused for a moment, and his hands stilled from peeling the skin from a piece of fruit. He shook his head, as if scattering water from his hair, coming back to the breakfast table. “They both live.”

Obi-Wan let loose a sigh of relief for the small Jedi Master and managed to swallow a few more bites before his next question, “Anakin, do you… I mean are you still?” He snorted at himself, what kind of Jedi Master was he if he couldn’t even finish his sentences.

Smiling, Anakin reached over and squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand which was still holding the near useless eating utensil. “I severed the bond before I boarded the ship, it hadn’t really cemented anyway. I don’t know what he thinks happened, but I know I can mask our presence from him so it really doesn’t matter either way.”

Padme delicately cleared her throat, and both men turned look at her. “Could you please pass the salt?” she asked steering the conversation away from anything having to do with the Republic or Jedi.

Obi-Wan felt himself eventually relax in the two lovers’ presence. They’d pretended to be so grown up before, but now he could see the difference in them. They were still silly, and conversation would never be boring, but new maturity peeked through their eyes, letting him know that there was a place for him in their lives.


The next several days blurred together and were more or less repeats of the first. Obi-Wan meditated, he puttered around the ship poking through the electronics, he talked for long hours with Padme and Anakin sometimes managing to hold a conversation with both at the same time. He still had not seen his lightsaber, but had ceased to worry over it. Anakin would give it back when he felt secure enough with him.

Every night Anakin came to him in the lonely little crew room and they lay together, touching and kissing until eventually Anakin brought Obi-Wan to release. He stayed a little longer every time, but always left without seeking his own pleasure. Their relationship had already changed so much; Obi-Wan finally knew how shallow their past had been, in no small part because of his refusal to listen to what Anakin had been trying to tell him. Now he wanted to tell Anakin everything, to show him everything, and leave nothing of him, his emotions back.



Obi-Wan entered the kitchen area on one of their last traveling days; he was looking forward to stretching his legs out on a planet. The droids had been curiously absent, since he’d left his room and now that he’d arrived, he saw that Padme too was missing. He opened the pantry, retrieving some of the dried fruit that was standard ship fare and nearly all that was left. “Where’s Padme?”

“She said she wasn’t feeling well this morning, and decided to stay lying down,” Anakin pushed the food around his plate some more, his mind clearly a lightyear away. The darkness had been draining away from him, and he looked more like his old self; a little paler maybe, but Obi-Wan was sure that would be remedied soon.

Sitting down, Obi-Wan reached for the pitcher in front of him, intending to pour himself a glass, but Anakin grabbed his arm halfway , clutching it until Obi-Wan flinched in pain. He had always been mercurial in his moods, and Obi-Wan had made the mistake of becoming complacent with the evenness he’d exhibited the past days. Anakin’s eyes were full of emotion that Obi-Wan couldn’t place, and that he couldn’t feel through the Force.

“Palpatine lied to me. He pretended to be my friend since I met him. He was only using me and I let him,” Anakin’s voice was deceptively soft, barely carrying over the table separating them. “He lied to me about everything, and what I did, it was all for nothing.”

Obi-Wan’s heart plummeted. He knew this conversation would be coming, but he’d fooled himself into thinking that when the time came, he’d have all the answers. He didn’t, but the Force had brought them together for a reason and he had to believe that or all was lost. “Anakin, what you did, it was because you were lied too, seduced. You don’t suddenly wake up in the morning and decide to turn to the dark side. Anyone in your position would have done the same. You can’t blame yourself.”

Anakin snorted, releasing Obi-Wan and sitting back in his chair, tilting it up on the back legs. “Right,” he drawled, not managing to disguise the hurt in his voice. “You don’t know what I did. How can you say that anyone would have done it?”

“I,” Obi-Wan swallowed the lump in his throat, tears burning in his eyes for the spent lives of the younglings, for Mace Windu, but most of all for Anakin and himself, “I saw what you did. I watched the security holograms; I had to see for myself.”

The chair dropped to the ground with a sharp click, and Anakin was out of it in a second, pacing the floor of the small room. “I did that! I did it Obi-Wan, and I hate it, I hate myself!” Anakin stalked back to the table slapping his hands down and sweeping everything off onto the floor. “Why don’t you hate me? Why?”

“Because I love you, Anakin!” Obi-Wan shouted back, standing and tipping his chair over in the process and invading the younger man’s space. He’d taken the road of least resistance so far in their budding relationship, but Anakin needed someone to tell him when he was being an idiot. Obi-Wan wasn’t fool enough to think that one conversation was going to make everything all better, not for him, and not for Anakin. “You did horrible things, but if you want to pay for them properly, you must forgive yourself first. Only then will the healing begin and together we can atone for mistakes made.”

All the fight went out went out of Anakin suddenly, and he slumped against Obi-Wan who pulled him into a tight hug, rubbing his back in soothing circles. Anakin turned his head to the side, whispering, “I should never have become a Jedi.”

“No, don’t say that. You are the Chosen One,” Obi-Wan nudged Anakin a little ways out from his body, trying to look him in the eyes, but Anakin avoided his gaze. “However it’s done, your actions will bring balance to the Force. That is your destiny, and I believe in you.”

“Tell that to your Jedi Council.” There was only slight bitterness in his tone, but Anakin moved away from Obi-Wan as he spoke, turning his back and walking back to right the chair that Obi-Wan had knocked over.

“The Jedi are not always right, either,” Obi-Wan said dumping his uneaten food back into its container and moving that back to the pantry. No, the Council had failed him, had failed Anakin numerous times, and he knew now that there was something fundamentally wrong with it, but he guessed they’d have the time to sort it out now. He knew better then to think this would be the end of the Jedi, but next time he vowed they would do better.

Suddenly Anakin was pressed up behind him, his hands pulling on Obi-Wan’s hips and his breath flaring on his bare neck. Obi-Wan gasped at the unexpected contact, jerking backward into the taller man. Both his hands clutched at the counter in front of him, trying to remain upright as Anakin’s hand circled around, rubbing firmly along Obi-Wan’s lower stomach.

The currents of Anakin’s warm breath tickled his ear, and his cheek itched where Anakin began to nuzzle the whiskers of his beard out of place. “Now I know Tatooine has frozen over,” Anakin’s voice was smooth and sheer as silk as his mood shifted and his intentions became crystal clear to Obi-Wan.

“I’m serious,” Obi-Wan frowned, trying to move out of Anakin’s hold to look in his eyes and try to convince him of his sincerity. Anakin kept a firm hold on him though, if anything pushing him harder into the counter and Obi-Wan dropped his head, relishing the contact.

“So am I,” Anakin licked along Obi-Wan’s neck, snuffling the short hairs that poked above his collar. “You have always been a creature of the Council. To hear you say such things is surprising.”

Obi-Wan flexed his neck to the side, hoping to give Anakin better access and becoming aroused despite his better judgment. “Now I am your creature,” he’d never spoken truer words, though he’d known them to be true for sometime whether he’d acknowledged them consciously or not.

Behind him, Anakin stilled, even his breath stopped for a moment, his chest pressing against Obi-Wan’s back. “Do you mean it?” his voice was rough now, sounding as if he’d swallowed a mouth full of gravel. “Prove it.”

Groaning softly, Obi-Wan made his decision and bent at the waist pressing himself back into Anakin’s groin. “Anything, Anakin, you know it.”

Anakin inhaled sharply and began slowly grinding against Obi-Wan, his hands digging into the flesh of Obi-Wan’s hips. Soft noises escaped his mouth and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but make answering groans, pressing back into Anakin’s strong body. The hands fumbling with the ties to his trousers brought him up short. “Anakin, what are you doing?” he managed to croak, not really knowing if he hoped for Anakin to stop or to continue. “We can’t do this here!”

“Come on Obi-Wan, what happened to your sense of adventure?” Anakin asked, and Obi-Wan knew without seeing that a cocky grin was plastered across his face. But he didn’t even pause in his gyrations against Obi-Wan’s backside, and if anything the arms circling Obi-Wan grew tighter pressing him back.

Taking a deep breath, and trying to center himself, Obi-Wan replied, “Apparently it ran off with my boyish good looks, and your common sense. I don’t…oh, do that again!”

Slipping his hand in Obi-Wan’s now loose pants, Anakin pressed down hard with his palm on Obi-Wan’s hardening cock, sliding his hand slowly downward. “Getting a little pushy, aren’t we?” Anakin purred into his ear not stopping his hand’s movement. “I thought you wanted me to stop?”

“Stop and you’ll live to regret it,” Obi-Wan promised, throwing his head back and wincing slightly as it collided against Anakin’s shoulder. His hands moved up to grab at Anakin’s forearms urging them to repeat their motion. Anakin’s passion, he had discovered, was incredibly contagious, but he was glad now that he had the chance to share in it.

Anakin continued stroking with one hand while the other slipped around hooking around the side of Obi-Wan’s pants and pulling them down until they cleared the bottom of his buttocks. Obi-Wan’s eyes slid shut, leaning forward again and bracing his head on his arm. It was finally going to happen, and Obi-Wan felt everything but his love for Anakin melt away. The alternating sensations of cool air and the rough fabric of Anakin’s pants were quickly driving Obi-Wan past the point of rationality.

The fact that they were in the kitchen, the rather public kitchen, that the droids or Padme could walk into at any moment bled away as Anakin began to fully stroke his now bared cock. Anakin cooed in Obi-Wan’s ear as his other hand slid around again to gently rub against Obi-Wan’s puckered entrance. Stiffening slightly at the unfamiliar sensation, Obi-Wan twisted his head around hoping to catch sight of Anakin. He was caught up in an awkward kiss on the side of his mouth, and Anakin used the distraction to leave Obi-Wan’s cock and search through his pocket.

“Trust me, Obi-Wan; trust that I’ll never hurt you.” Anakin’s voice slid through Obi-Wan’s very bones settling low in his stomach and easing the ache.

The finger that nudged him again was slick with whatever Anakin had coated it with and Obi-Wan gasped into Anakin’s mouth, arching his back at the odd intrusion. Anakin brought his other hand up to Obi-Wan’s throat, tilting his head back so he could pet along the side of Obi-Wan’s neck while moving his finger in deeper. Obi-Wan groaned again, but this time in complete pleasure as Anakin touched a place inside that sent shivers down to his toes. “Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Oh, Anakin.” He could feel the other man smile into the side of his neck, and slid another finger into him.

Obi-Wan pushed himself helplessly backwards and it was Anakin's turn to groan low in his chest. The hand left Obi-Wan’s throat, trailing down his chest and around his hip before he lost contact with it. Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s forehead pressing heavily against his shoulder as, Obi-Wan assumed, he fumbled with his own leggings.

Obi-Wan couldn’t have strung two words together if he’d tried, and was beyond caring if the entire galactic senate walked in on them. The Force swirled between them binding them tighter even then when Anakin had still been his Padawan. His mind was splintering and he could feel Anakin pushing through on the edges, bleeding together until he couldn’t tell which sensations were his; which feelings came from which heart. In the end, it didn’t matter: they were together; they would always be together.



That night, Obi-Wan flipped off the display panel he was using to study up on their chosen planet’s history. They should be able to fit in decently well, and given Anakin’s promise of masking their presence, they shouldn’t have any problems from Palpatine. He shifted a little on the chair; the slight burn through his posterior sent a flood of images through his mind reminding him of his earlier encounter.

Life with Anakin and Padme would be a change of pace that he never thought he’d have. Gone were his days of gallivanting around the galaxy never knowing when his end would come, thou he didn’t have any expectations of a completely peaceful existence within his new household. He remembered Anakin’s youth well enough, and between him and a baby, life would always be interesting. He would be where he was needed, wanted, and most importantly of all, he’d discovered, loved.

The door across from him slid open, and Anakin posed in the doorway, one hand placed casually on his hip, and his shoulder against the wall. Obi-Wan smiled, surprised but happy at Anakin’s presence and stood to greet him with a kiss. Anakin caught him by the shoulders and held him at arms length, searching his face, and seeming to come to a conclusion began to speak, “I just came by to see if you were done, if you were coming to bed.”

“‘Coming to bed?’” Obi-Wan echoed, confusion easy to read upon his face. “What are you talking about, Anakin?”

“Come with me. Padme was never one for sleeping close, even before she got pregnant,” Anakin kissed him again, his tongue sliding past Obi-Wan’s. He broke away, and placed his hand along Obi-Wan’s cheek. “Please, Obi-Wan, I love you.”

Finding that his usual glib tongue was no longer of any use, Obi-Wan could only nod and let Anakin lead him along by the hand, striding together down a new path to a new life.