A Dance from His Heart
by KoUsagi a.k.a. Lovedance Lady

Disclaimer: Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker are my personal slaves - in my dreams. Their owner is naturally George Lucas and all his big and powerful companies. I am but playing with the boys.

Notes & dedication: I have been wanting to write a dance!fic since I started to get involved with belly-dance, about 2 years ago. I hope I captured what I think it is about: telling a story, telling tales of the heart and mind.I humbly dedicate this to my wonderful dance-teacher, Mónika, who will probably not read this, but anyways, that is the least I can do for her. She is one of the greatest people that I know, adore and respect, not only for her professional knowledge but her personality that shines on all who are not blind. Ah and in case you wonder, men do have traditional dances in the East, but yes, there are more girls. They have the prettier costumes too :D
Naturally, this is an AU, with no Anakin turning, and with no Padme (sorry, I did not want to bother with that angst-factor), and again, it is SLASH! Yes, two guys are very much in love! Don't like, don't read!
Fic originally published in the ewanhayden community under my other pen-name, Lovedancelady.

Lastly, I can't thank my beta,Taira (or on LJ, Sparklychibi) enough. Thank you for the wonderful job, correcting all my tense mistakes and awkward wordings! Remaining mistakes mine. :)

Well, please, have fun reading :)

The party has reached its zenith. The honey-coloured fiery beverage, the Cunraft, was trickling down the throats in greater and braver amounts, the music became wilder and wilder as the masters of the drums, wind instruments and xylophone-like contraptions got more and more intoxicated and surprisingly, more adept. The unbridled tunes and rhythms, saturated with the voices of drowned into an almost mind-blowing cacophony. However, Obi-Wan was not swept up by the flow. He chatted politely, albeit somewhat stiltedly with his host, Zirnsah,

"Yes, the festivities are just wonderful. There isn't anything like this on Coruscant. Certainly, the decorations completely enhance the natural surroundings of the valley. The five moons? Truly an unusual sight to behold! Yes, in my opinion, the Republic has chosen the most appropriate planet for the base. Sure, the musicians are stupendous… One more glass? No than … well, thank you anyways…"

He gulped down the glass of Cunraft, having lost track of the amount he had already consumed. Though the liquid was warming him rather nicely from inside, worry did not loosen its grip on him. Where could Anakin be? Of course he knew his partner was alright, given his Force-signature, but still… A full week without the other, moreover, on the same mission! Even if this was, for a change, a peaceful, diplomatic one.

However, he had no choice. Strangers to the Bhara, a human people, were accepted on the condition that they participate actively in the Five Moon Festival. Active participation meant learning and performing the local dance. It was truly the most unfortunate coincidence that they had arrived one week before the opening night of the festivities, as representatives of the Republic, to negotiate on the building of a military base. At any other time, they could have devised some different ways to befriend the locals. This situation, though, left them no option but to heed the customs, since those who broke them – those groups that did not have a member who was willing to learn the Arnsih, the ancient local dance – would be declared as enemies so Anakin was asked and accepted to be the "stranger dancer" at the Festival's opening ceremony, since naturally, the Republic could not make new enemies, especially now that the Chancellor / Sith Lord's identity had been unveiled. Obi-Wan couldn't believe how they couldn't see from their own eyes…

Though Sidious was not in the category of ordinary, simple and dumb enemies like the droids but a Sith Lord. The evil Palpatine was captured and eliminated by Anakin in the last minute. Who knew what would have happened if Obi-Wan had not have been on Coruscant for some reason, and if Anakin didn't trust him so much, if they didn't have a strong spiritual bond that made the Skywalker-Kenobi team invincible? He didn't even dare to think about it.

The war, however, was not over, even though the Sith leader was erased from the picture. Interstellar politics was not that simple. Yet they had already gone through the worst, and were probably fighting the last battles now. Or, they would be fighting them, if they had not been having fun, more or less forcedly, as the official guests of the local leaders, at the traditional fertility celebrations of a foreign planet. Obi-Wan stealthily looked around again, but he couldn't see his partner anywhere. He barely admitted to himself that the lack of the physical presence of the younger man strangely wore him down. Missing him this much was quite bizarre, since after all, he could always feel the other's constant, stable presence through the Force; but he dismissed those strange emotions, saying to himself that they must have been spending too much time together, and therefore, being separated was more demanding.
"Well, anything for the Republic', he smiled inwardly. Anyways, he was very curious about this dance. Though one week was just ridiculously too short a time to learn a previously unknown dance properly, Obi-Wan suspected that Anakin would not do the task half-heartedly, it was not his nature. He tried to imagine Anakin in the splendid, flowing, sparkling costumes he saw on the Bharas, with the painted gold-silver-bronze lines on their faces… Definitely a look not befitting the image of the Hero With No Fear, and yet…

Obi-Wan was run over by a hot-cold shiver as the dancer-Anakin of his imagination started to move in a definitely not Jedi-like way to the music's rhythm that was swelling with elemental power.

Now Obi-Wan realized why he missed Anakin so much. The realization hit him like lightning, making his eyes pop. He almost spat his drink on Zirnsah.
"Is there a problem, Master Kenobi? Is the Cunraft not tasty enough? I will immediately call for a wa—"

"Ah, that will not be necessary", Obi-Wan spoke between two mimicked coughs. "There is no problem with my drink, it went the wrong way, that is all. This… Cunraft is quite strong, isn't it?"

"Well that is sure, but the hot drink heats up the blood and the heart, or at least that's how our saying goes!" laughed the black-haired, robust Zirnsah heartily, and playfully patted the round butt-cheeks of a waitress passing by. She giggled and went on her way, blushing – you just weren't touched by the leader of the tribe every day, after all!
Obi-Wan could agree with the saying perfectly. "Blast it…", he thought, "that's just what I need now… silly emotions… After all these years… why? Why?" He cursed the circumstances, himself, his flimsiness, Anakin's gleaming eyes, his full, pouty lips, his radiating aura, everything really, a hundred times, but in the deepest reaches of his soul, he knew, there was no escape. Amidst the horrors of the Clone Wars, he was caught on love's fire, despite the Code, despite logic, despite anything.
But! This did not mean he could not conquer his human weakness, for he was not a Jedi Master for nothing. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself and to release his anxiety into the Force. He silently murmured the Code as if it were a mantra. However, he was soon forced out of his half-meditative state, for the music suddenly halted. The merry, now half-drunk crowd hushed as if by magic.

"It begins," whispered Obi-Wan's host in his ears, pointing to the small lake that had a completely transparent stage constructed over it in a way that it seemed it was floating on the water. The flames of floating candles speckled the tenderly rippling surface of the water. The throng of merrymakers surrounded this little lake-stage with their traditional tents and plain benches and tables. Although the planet did not lack technological development, the Five Moon Festival and its site was dedicated to traditions, reflecting the locals' love of nature. It undoubtedly had a mystical air about it, as if Nature had erected a shrine for herself then invited the people to enjoy themselves, to be one with her even if for a short time.

Obi-Wan could watch the spectacle from one of the best seats, exactly facing the stage. As much as he yearned to see the young Skywalker, he was afraid of it now with his new discovery in his heart. He took a sip from his magically refilled glass, almost unconsciously, as if the Cunraft could steel his courage.

Then a veiled figure stepped out of the deep burgundy tent set up on the opposite side of the lake and made for the stage, as if walking on water. His steps were guided by the gentle, undulating music, which was gradually strengthening. The eyes of the masses were dumbly following the divine creature."

For the being was certainly divine. Though the golden veil covered his face, the glittering of crystals, the playing of the translucent golden fabric over the stretching muscles, the flashes of silky, brown skin spoke of a god. It seemed even the coins and beads ornamenting the edges of the pantaloon and the shirtwaist were not rattling but singing.

The wonderful creature began to remove the veil with alluring elegance, synchronized with the music in every movement. The honey-coloured locks were revealed first, then the face was unveiled and…

Obi-Wan almost cried out. The dancer was Anakin, except that he wasn't. The eyes were his, yes, but the sinuous ceremonial lines painted on his face in gold were not. The hair was his, but not its sparkling radiance. The muscles, the skin, oh yes, nobody else's, but the translucent gold costume with the crystals and coins and those wickedly placed slits, no, they were not his. This being was somebody else, yet more Anakin than ever before, because he was surrounded by a radiating aura, a golden fog, Something that was partly Force, this could Obi-Wan feel well, but partly him, his own essence.

The dancer raised his downcast look straight to the Jedi Master. Then he started his real dance. Those who had greater understanding of the Anrsih may have missed the more complicated advanced-level movements and refined combinations, but the Miracle that was exuding from Anakin's being silenced even the most critical spectators. For the young man's dance was a tale, and who else could understand it if not Obi-Wan Kenobi, who hearkened to every word.

Because this was their story. Starting from the moment when the universe turned upside down around an aghast boy, barely ten years old who finally finds found a new, firm starting point for a new life. This fix point, this man slowly begins to mean a loving father, a teacher, a mentor for him, lots of struggle, compromises, yet laughter and warmth as well. Then the troubled teenage years arrived, and the boy was unruly, disobedient, and did his own thing, causing a lot of trouble to his Master but aside from that, both of them knew that they could trust the other, even in the darkest of times. Then those times indeed came, and the boy became a man, the other's companion, his equal partner; the best friend and brother, light in the darkness, that is what they became to each other.

By the time the tale reached this point, Obi-Wan's heart had swelled with the sentimentality and affection that Anakin induced in him throughout the past. Watching the dance he could relive the past years.

Suddenly, the melody and the dance took a different course. At first it was hidden, almost secret, but still the change was there. The feelings of the young man had altered. The friend was not only a friend anymore. He had touched the young man's heart in a more intimate way. Then came physical attraction. Still very vague, nothing explicitly erotic. Maybe a touch, a clasping of hands, an embrace. Uncertainties, doubts. Was this allowed? Ah, why not? The desire mounted up because of the restraint, becoming stronger and stronger. His feelings had definitely changed. The boy had fallen in a prohibited and unrequited love. The other could never, ever know of this. For he talked to him as a brother, as a brother he touched his arm, not even suspecting that the youth's skin and heart are were scorched by this simple gesture. The boy suffered silently, even the Force couldn't help him. Finally, as a last resort, he couldn't do anything else but reveal himself and he danced, dancing a love-dance, this silent confession.

The tears were streaming down unstoppably, like torrents of a river gone wild, coating Obi-Wan's face in a silver-wet glow. Nobody noticed it. The crowd's eyes were following the dancer as one, until he collapsed – as if everything was over, and there was not even a glimmer of hope for him. The music was but one intense, screaming mess of notes by now, and then suddenly it ceased, and the silence of space occupied the valley for a couple flabbergasted seconds.

Then all at once, a rumble of a clap-storm, no, a clap-hurricane filled the air. The audience was celebrating, driven out of their minds.

"That was the most fantastic Anrsih that a stranger has ever… Oh." The chief's attempt to speak to Obi-Wan was in vain. There was no Jedi Master next to him, only his empty seat.

Anakin stood up quickly, searching for his former Master in the crowd. It was of no use. He looked around the valley again and again, both with his eyes and mind, yet he couldn't find him anywhere.

The applause and cheers did not halt. "Thank you," he muttered to the crowd then bowed to them a couple times, then ran back to the tent he had left only about fifteen minutes ago. He felt it was all over. Obi-Wan obviously hated him, now that he betrayed their friendship, his master's trust and the Jedi's. He had failed as a student, as a friend, oh how could he think that the Jedi Master would want him as a lover…

He flung himself on the settee in the back of the tent. The tears spilled out of his eyes, smearing the gold ceremonious make-up on his face. This ridiculous dance, why did he have to agree to doing it? Even more, why did he have to get all enthusiastic about it? This is was how much he and his ideas were worth. He burst out sobbing, burying his face in his palms.

"Don't cry, Anakin."

Hearing the oh-so-familiar voice, the boy looked up suddenly. Obi-Wan. He couldn't look at his eyes, those magical green-blue eyes. If he could have, he might have been able to see the love shining in their depths. Obi-Wan turned to the Force that bonded him to this youth stronger than anything else.

The world started to reel about Anakin. Only words, simple words reached his mind, or were they shreds of feelings? He could not tell. "dance… beautiful… realise… miss you… yearn… want… love you…too… can't help it… Anakin…"

Obi-Wan kneeled in front of Anakin's settee, and then their gazes met as well, in a long, seemingly eternal soul-embrace. The older man, covered in tears himself, began to meekly kiss the salty streams off his partner's visage, burying his fingers in the curly locks.

His lips ventured to the younger man's. A wordless question, a flash of an eye. Anakin opened his mouth just a little bit, and Obi-Wan delicately traced it with his tongue, first on the outside, then longing to go deeper and deeper, to explore every flavour of Anakin, until finally, the two bodies, two minds were welded in the red haze of lips and tongues.

The End