My first fic! Obi-Wan/Anakin lovers, enjoy! Extra special thanks go out to my muse, Xtine! I can never thank you enough. Reviews are so appreciated!
Chapter 1: Sunset
Silently, he watched.
He watched as light danced, a sapphire blade twirled, and motion and action came together in a sensuous, powerful dance of purpose and perfection.
He watched.
The sun was just beginning to set, casting long, playful shadows across this training room in the Temple. There was no sound, other than the faint scratch of bare feet on the mat, the whisper of fabric rubbing against itself, and the hum, that satisfying hum, of the weapon of light and grace as it cut through the silence.
He watched, silently, because he knew this Jedi would be here, now, at this time of day.
He watched this figure of purpose and perfection continue in the dance, the setting sun catching the sheen of sweat that covered the long and chiseled muscles of back, arms, and chest, tunic long abandoned as too restrictive, too confining.
The blade swung up, around, over, down and through, in a cascade of moves decidedly beguiling and deadly. The weapon was an extension of those arms, and with the speed and natural fluidity of the movement, it was difficult to tell where arms ended and blade began.
He stole a glance up to that face, the face of youth and beauty, impossibly enhanced by the scar over his right eye. The sunset played tricks with his hair, making it appear as if he were some sort of Force apparition, setting the playful curls of his hair on fire, golden and soft at the same time.
The dancer's eyes were half closed, in concentration, full bottom lip tucked in slightly. The figure continued in his dance, unaware that he was being watched.
Loved.
Loved beyond all reason, necessity, or care.
Obi-Wan Kenobi watched silently as his former Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, practiced his "moving meditation." He was always in motion, just like the Force that had put Anakin into being. He knew Anakin would be here because this was his favorite time of day—it had been since he was a slave boy on Tatooine, watching the twin suns set. How long ago that seemed now, as the boy had become a man, a Padawan had become a Knight. And a student had become a friend, a brother….no, something more than that. A soul mate.
Anakin was beauty and perfection. No, not necessarily a perfect Jedi, nor was he a perfect padawan. But the very Force all the Jedi had all built their lives around had gifted Anakin with a luminescence that was simultaneously irresistible and all-consuming. Anakin had once said being around Senator Amidala was intoxicating, but truly, Anakin himself was a drug to be consumed again and again. Obi-Wan knew this, and still, he watched.
Now, the exercise became wild, passionate, and aggressive—completely and utterly Anakin. Slices of blue blade pierced the air, and his demeanor slowly twisted into something almost feral. Obi-Wan sighed deeply. He loved this part.
He did this often, stealing quietly from their rooms to the one place he knew Anakin visited with any consistency. Watching him practice was an extremely intimate experience, for Anakin truly lay himself bare in this time when he thought he was alone. Obi-Wan couldn't resist watching—it was as seductive as it was instructive.
How long had he loved Anakin? Did it even matter? He knew Anakin did not feel the same way. Something was going on between Anakin and the senator, which was trouble enough in the eyes of the Order, but for a Master and a Padawan, even a former one….well, it didn't matter anyway. Anakin saw him as a brother, at best, and as a father, at worst.
His thoughts stole to his own master, Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon had been a god to Obi-Wan, and he had loved him fiercely. He was a father to Obi-Wan, he was his family and his world. When he died, Obi-Wan thought the hole in his heart would be black and scarred for eternity. When he looked into the deep blue eyes of that hopeful little boy he was supposed to train, he didn't see why his master had placed this burden on him, nor how he would ever be made whole again. How giving half of himself away would somehow make him more.
Obi-Wan watched as Anakin moved on to another series of movements, those designed to be used in tandem with a partner. The master's lips curled up in a smile, as he leaned back into the alcove and hugged his arms around his cloak. Anakin was practicing to work with him.
Sighing again, Obi-Wan watched, with the comfort of knowing that Anakin still needed him, if only to guard his back in battle.
Obi-Wan watched as the last streams of sunlight sank below the horizon, and the twilight became the color of Anakin's eyes. The lightsabre arced high overhead in a final, triumphant swing of blue brilliance and fervent hum. Anakin shut down his blade, and fell to the floor, deliriously physically exhausted, but spiritually renewed.
As quietly as he arrived, Obi-Wan turned and left.
From the mat on the floor, Anakin turned his head and watched.