Title: Accustomed (1?)
Author: Shella
Rating: M.
Pairing(s): Obi-Wan / Anakin, Anakin / Padme, past Qui-Gon / Obi-Wan.
Beta: None.
Spoilers: Episodes I, II, & III (in an A/U fashion).
Disclaimer: Star Wars etc. are property of George Lucas. I'm hoping that pointing this out will stop people noticing copyright theft.
Summary: A/U, SLASH – Jedi are forbidden to love, but Obi-Wan and Anakin are gradually getting used to the idea that they can't help it. O/A, A/P, Q/O.
Chapter One
Obi-Wan Kenobi craned his neck until the muscles protested, but could see no sign of his padawan, nor hint of any approach. A moment's concentration on the Force divulged no hints as to the wayward apprentice's location. Obi-Wan sighed.
"Late, as usual," he muttered, and gripped his lightsaber more firmly. It was taking some effort to control his body and prevent his palms from sweating.
The creature facing him tilted its head, the better to examine him with its compound eyes. The dusky gold sun glinted off its gleaming exoskeleton. As though asking a question, it clicked its mandibles three times in quick succession and rustled its shining wings.
"No, I'm afraid my position hasn't changed on that matter," Obi-Wan said to it.
It made a 'scree' sound that was echoed by several of its companions, and took a shuffling step closer. The insect-like creatures hadn't encountered a Jedi, or even a human, before, and didn't quite know what to make of Obi-Wan Kenobi or his lightsaber. This had bought some valuable time for him, which appeared to be rapidly running out.
"You won't like the taste of me," he informed them. "I've been told by a reliable source that I'm quite dour and stringy." Admittedly, Anakin hadn't bitten many people during sparring matches, but the boy was actively carnivorous and could compare his master to a great variety of animal meats.
He spared a second's concentration to send a searching thought down the link he shared with his padawan, and another to listen for a reply: nothing.
"That Anakin…" he muttered to himself. The creature in front of him twitched its antennae and advanced another step, venturing within two metres of Obi-Wan's glowing lightsaber.
He figured his chances of fighting his way out of this swarm of insects to be about 30-70 against. As repetitive and monotonous as it was becoming, he was rather urgently hoping Anakin would arrive soon and save him. It had happened so often they were growing rather accustomed to the routine: go on a mission, split up, Obi-Wan gets into trouble, Anakin comes to the rescue. Obi-Wan had started to wonder why he even bothered going off by himself anymore.
"Because that would mean admitting I can't get by without him," he answered himself. "He's arrogant enough as it is without confirming all his grand ideas."
He sensed it a second before it happened – one of the creatures behind him took a bold step forward and swiped at his back with a claw. Obi-Wan met the attacking limb with his lightsaber, and a horrible high-pitched scream assaulted his ears, drilling right into his skull and along every bone in his head. The creature staggered backwards on five legs, shrieking in outrage and pain. Obi-Wan sympathised.
This was obviously taken by the insects as the signal for attack – the strange being that had stumbled into their midst was hostile, a threat, and must be eliminated. With a chorus of painfully shrill cries, they leapt forward.
But even as Obi-Wan fought back, attempting to clear his head of auditory-induced agony, desperately trying to rise above it and let the Force flow to guide him, the insects' vanguard was smashed aside. A new sound intruded on Obi-Wan's strained senses – canine growls and barks. He blinked, trying to focus watering eyes, but could only register vague impressions of dark blurry shapes before he was snatched off his feet.
The next thing he knew he was thundering along on the back of some quadruped, arms fastened around a familiar waist.
"About time you got here!" he shouted. Although his mouth was right by Anakin's ear, the speed of their passage snatched his words from his mouth and flung them away.
"What?" came the answering yell.
Obi-Wan shook his head. He couldn't concentrate over the shrieks of the insect creatures, still ringing in his skull like electricity was running through his marrow. He dropped his forehead to Anakin's shoulder and swore in a fashion most unbecoming of a Jedi Master.
Something tapped him on the head. He ignored it. The tap was repeated, more insistently, and he looked up in time to get Anakin's thumb in his eye.
"Ouch!"
"Take these!" his padawan called. Blinking, eye streaming from its digital contact and the insect screams, Obi-Wan realised Anakin was holding something for him to take. Earplugs.
"You're a lifesaver," he yelled, then noticed the matching set blocking Anakin's own ears. Shrugging, he gripped with one hand and manoeuvred the plugs into place. Immediately they shut out the creatures' shrill noises, and with them the pain.
No longer crippled, Obi-Wan looked around to get his bearings. He and Anakin were mounted on some kind of over-sized canine, apparently of the same variety as the pack that had fought off the insect creatures. It wasn't particularly hairy or bulky, but had an underfed whip-like quality to its muscles. They were bounding – or galloping, the gait seemed to be something in between – through the dry scrub that covered much of Kellryn's main continent, and the sun seemed less dusky and more like warm gilt now that he was reunited with Anakin, and therefore out of danger.
"How's the mission?" he bellowed in Anakin's ear. The teenager kept his eyes in front, but turned his head so he could yell into Obi-Wan's ear in turn.
"I got close," he shouted, "but she spotted me and ran away."
"We'll try again," Obi-Wan responded, and Anakin nodded and tugged on the left rein to turn their mount east.
The sun was behind them now, it being late afternoon of the thirty-eight-hour Kellrynian day, and it burnt in a fierce line along Obi-Wan's back. He glanced as best he could over his own shoulder, but the sting in his muscles told him what he couldn't visually confirm – he'd sustained a wound, shallow but long, starting on one shoulderblade and finishing in the small of his back. The cloth of his tunic flapped against the open lips of the cut, making Obi-Wan's breath hitch.
Anakin shouted something.
"What?"
Seemingly irritated, Anakin held the reins in one hand so he could remove his earplugs. Obi-Wan did the same, discovering with relief that they had left the insect creatures behind.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"I asked if you'd been hurt," Anakin replied. His voice sounded hoarse from shouting.
"A cut, on my back." Considering that he was the Master and Anakin the apprentice, Obi-Wan often felt as though he were the one in Anakin's charge rather than the reverse. This was one of those times when the teenager was just too capable and competent for his own good. He was racing towards his Mastery in every aspect, except one.
"I'll leave you at the cave entrance," Anakin was saying now. "You're injured, you shouldn't do anything strenuous."
Obi-Wan was annoyed. "It's superficial," he informed him. "It won't slow me down."
"You might strain it or hurt yourself further," Anakin argued. "Sheena's a tough fighter."
"I know my own limits, padawan," Obi-Wan said, in what he hoped was a this-is-the-final-word kind of voice.
Anakin was silent for a minute, glowering resentfully. The argument was not won yet. Obi-Wan sighed; the boy had such potential, if only he'd learn to control his emotions. His difficulties with this particular stumbling block were nothing short of spectacular, and it chafed Obi-Wan to hold him back for this reason. But without mental discipline, physical and spiritual gifts were two-edged swords, and he wouldn't release Anakin if there were a chance of the teenager cutting himself or someone else.
"I'd rather you stayed behind, Master," Anakin said, causing Obi-Wan to blink in surprise. This was a more mature style than usual.
"I appreciate the concern," he said slowly, "but I will be fine, Anakin. If I feel weak or in excessive pain," he added, "I promise to inform you, and let you continue alone to bring in the renegade."
Anakin appeared to debate the point anew internally, before grudgingly nodding.
Obi-Wan sighed in relief. It seemed like every time he and Anakin spoke lately it was a contest of wills, and he emerged from even the most casual conversations as though he'd just fought a battle.
"How far is it to the cave?" he asked, to take both his and Anakin's minds off the disagreement.
"About eight klicks," Anakin answered. He seemed as glad as Obi-Wan for the change of topic. "She's about fifty metres underground I guess, which means we have to walk almost a klick of the cave system." He presented this information in a slightly inquiring tone of voice: will you be okay to walk that far?
Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment, subduing the surge of annoyance this provoked. "Can we fit three people on this … animal?" he asked. He was curious about the terrain and condition of the caves, but refused to ask in case Anakin thought his injury was worrying him.
"Yep," Anakin responded, "but it'll take a bit longer. We'll have to give it more water, too." He spoke shortly, and Obi-Wan knew Anakin realised what he hadn't asked, and why.
They knew each other so well. And they got along brilliantly. Most of the time.
"You should have let me dress it then and there," Anakin persisted.
"We've been over this," Obi-Wan said wearily. "Sheeana was making a break for it just as we reached the cave. There was less than no time to stop to draw breath or water the dog, let alone treat a little cut." He winced in spite of himself as Anakin, finished with washing it, began smearing gel onto the pared flesh.
"Little wound," his padawan repeated. "Master, you are the Master of understatement."
"And you are the Master of insensitive wound-dressing," Obi-Wan retorted. "Extend your senses, Anakin! You should have the sensitivity to be able to tell what's too rough."
"Hold still," instructed Anakin, ignoring the instruction – or acknowledging and storing it without acting on it. He placed a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, his thumb brushing the base of the neck and fingers splayed over the bare collarbone. Quickly, efficiently, he prodded a dissolving antiseptic tablet into the top end of the gash, where the insect's claw had first caught and the wound was deepest.
Obi-Wan inhaled sharply – whether it was at the blinding hot-cold sensation the tablet caused or the way Anakin was touching his bare skin, he wasn't sure.
"Yeah, they feel strange," Anakin agreed. "Like mint."
"Mint is a flavour," Obi-Wan corrected absently. He wondered when Anakin would remove his hands – they were both pressed against his skin now, one on his shoulder, the other on his side just above the waist. His own were in his lap, deliberately not gripping his tunic tensely.
"It's a sensation, too," Anakin said. His voice seemed a bit dreamy. Stillness fell between them.
Obi-Wan broke the silence, trying to keep his voice even. It came out unintentionally husky. "You should probably apply the bandages now."
Anakin brushed his thumb over the base of Obi-Wan's neck. "There's a bruise here," he commented, employing his ability to conveniently ignore things he deemed unimportant. This was one of his more annoying traits, and Obi-Wan seized on this emotion.
"Anakin, don't do—that!" His reprimand became a gasp and his back arched spasmodically when he felt lips – Anakin's lips! – touching the base of his neck. Before he had time to pull away something else contacted his skin, something wet and soft. "Anakin – is that – your tongue?"
"Yes," said Anakin pleasantly, and kissed him again. "Does it feel better?"
"Better than what? Your mouth?"
"The bruise. I'm kissing it better. Is it working?"
Obi-Wan spun around, his heart racing in his ears, and stared at someone who he was quite convinced had stolen Anakin's voice and appearance and was using them to do extremely rude and disturbing things to his Master. "Who are you and what have you done with Anakin Skywalker?" he demanded.
A frown crossed the teenager's face. "Don't do this, Master," he said. "Don't run away from me. You can't pretend you don't know exactly what's going on and exactly what I'm asking."
Oh, Force protect us—"What's happened?" Obi-Wan asked, serious but agitated. "Why are you doing this, Anakin?"
There were a thousand queries implicit in those two questions. Obi-Wan and Anakin had acknowledged the seeds of attraction between them years ago, when Anakin was barely of a legal age, but nothing had happened. The Code forbade love, but simple romantic interest was an unavoidable fact of life and the Jedi Order was realistic about this. Neither was it unknown or entirely taboo for the closeness of a Master-Padawan bond to evolve into something more; provided both parties were in consent and their involvement didn't hinder their duties, it was, while not quite accepted, at least tolerated.
Nevertheless an unspoken agreement had been made between Anakin and Obi-Wan, that there was something in the way they interacted and the way they dealt with each other that held more serious implications. The power struggle, their silent fight for dominance, insinuated that a romantic relationship would never be smooth sailing and, whoever ended up 'in charge' (so to speak), it could disrupt the already fragile balance of authority. On the other hand, when they worked as a team there was something utterly compelling and unstoppable about their partnership, the way they understood one another and got along perfectly. This – perhaps even more sinister than the other danger – suggested that if they acted on their attraction, a connection could grow between them far stronger than either intended or even wanted.
With these two considerations in mind, a silent consensus had been reached that they would not explore that possibility. Even risk-hardy (some, such as Obi-Wan, would say foolhardy) Anakin respected the dangerous currents with which such a path was fraught.
Or so it had seemed. At some point, Anakin had evidently changed his mind.
"You know all the reasons why not," Obi-Wan stated. "Why, then, do you think we should chance it? What's changed?"
"Nothing important," said Anakin. His hands had been dislodged when Obi-Wan turned to face him, and now rested on his Master's knees. He was regarding him with serious eyes. "It's all still there – everything we both feel, it's the same as it's always been. I've been thinking, though."
"Now, Anakin, we both know that was never your strong suit," Obi-Wan said automatically.
His padawan frowned at him disapprovingly. "I thought," he said deliberately, ignoring Obi-Wan's jibe, "that since I've been getting better at controlling my emotions, we could give it a shot and it wouldn't get out of hand. I've been working very hard," he added, "and I'm sure I could keep my feelings from interfering with our duties. I know I could."
"No, you don't," said Obi-Wan gently. Parts of him were soundly scolding him for turning the boy down, knowing that they could be blindingly happy together, but the stronger part was firm that it was necessary. He took Anakin's face in his hands. "My dear padawan, you know as well as I do that if we started down that path it would lead to much bigger and stronger feelings than either of us can conceive. No amount of self-control could defend against love like that." There – he'd said it. Love. The most dangerous of all emotions. The one they must avoid at all cost. "You don't have that power, Anakin, and neither do I."
Anakin looked like a child who'd tried to protect their sandcastle from the rising tide. On some level, he'd known all along what Obi-Wan's answer would be, but the little boy from Tatooine had still dared to hope. It broke Obi-Wan's heart to have to take that hope apart.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I wish it weren't so."
"I know," Anakin said in a low voice. Driven by pity and his own aching heart, Obi-Wan leant forward and kissed him, a single chaste expression of sadness and fatality. The fervour with which Anakin responded only reiterated what they both knew – that whatever was between them was much too powerful to be released.
"We mustn't regret it," Obi-Wan said.
"There's nothing to regret," Anakin answered, hollowly, "and that makes it worse."