The city-planet that was Coruscant sparkled from space like a jewel and almost made Anakin widen his eyes with wonder whenever he arrived at its atmosphere. He was busy, so busy fighting for the Republic, it was never often enough that he was in Coruscant.
Yet, as Anakin travelled to the Temple on a speeder, feeling through the Force all the thousands of sentients that lived, worked, played, stole, learned, survived here, he realized Coruscant was a swirling storm. It was moving and building, amassed with clouds tinged with darkness. It changed its shape and form daily with each victory or defeat from the Jedi and the clones. It had an enormous and twisting front, full of dark clouds that were doubt and greed and sometimes hope, but a storm nonetheless.
He chuckled at the realization of this thought.
Obi-wan would have been impressed with this comparison. As a Padawan, Anakin knew he had not been an easy one on his Master. Obi-Wan's wisdom and strong connection to the Unifying Force had been ever present, but it had taken time, years, experience, most of all the Force, to acquire them for himself. Even so, Anakin knew his former Master still had a much stronger connection than he.
He made it to the hangar of the Temple, where the Force in all its strength seemed to amplify the hurricane of a storm that was Coruscant, and as his thoughts went back to Obi-Wan, he felt a void in the Force. There was a.. ripple where there should be calm, some sort of imbalance where there had been solidity.. a disturbance around Obi-Wan's presence in the Force.
One of the mechanics checked him in and asked if he needed repairs, but Anakin waved him away with a tired smile. Ahsoka had already looked after his engine before he had been called back by the Council. She was still at their assignment along with Rex, as they had only called for him. She had expressed her discomfort at having him leave so abruptly and her big blue eyes had momentarily flashed with doubt before warm fondness was sent across their bond along with spoken words of reassurance. The whole situation made him restless as well since the Council rarely interrupted his missions for an impromptu visit to the Temple.
Maybe it had something to do with the abrupt feeling of dark shock and something akin to sorrow he had felt a few nights ago tremble through the Force, he thought as he walked the halls to the Council Chamber. He had been going over a few plans with Rex and a few of the other men when he had had to lean on the Holoprojector to keep his balance, the breath in his chest coldly whooshed out of him. They had been worried, of course, his men rushing to his aid, and Anakin had ordered a thorough search around their small base, never letting Ahsoka out of his sight. He'd been worried about Obi-Wan since then and, as the Chamber doors opened to grant him the audience with the Council, wondered if that episode had been a warning of some sort.
"General Skywalker." Mace Windu was the first to address him once he stood alone at the center of the Chamber.
"Masters." Wrapping thick walls of shielding around his consciousness, Anakin bowed respectfully to the few masters present. It never pleased him to be here, under their scrutiny and judgment, even if the war called away so many of the Council like today, and he always made sure to seal his thoughts and feelings within himself when he appeared before them.
"Grave news, we've heard. Mandalore, fallen it has, to the Death Watch." Yoda delivered the information bluntly and Anakin frowned at what this implied. Something had happened to the Duchess. She would have never allowed Mandalore to fall, her love for her people and her world had always been stronger than her foes.
"Not just to Death Watch," Windu added to Yoda's statement. "We have recently been informed of the existence of two Sith Lords on that planet."
"A master and an apprentice? Or Dooku's pawns?" Anakin jumped to the next bit of information. He didn't think it was possible for more Darksiders to rampage around when they were already worried about Dooku and Grievous and Ventress. Then again, this war had a habit of getting worse each day.
"It is doubtful that they work for Dooku. But Mandalore needs our help. They have finally pledged themselves to the Republic and after a few days of politics, the Senate has granted them assistance."
Ah. And this was where they needed him. "Am I assigned to Mandalore, Masters?" He would have to call back half of the 501st; Ahsoka would command the rest at their current assignment. Outside, the storm rumbled ominously, and though Anakin couldn't see the swirling, dark winds, the heavy accumulating clouds colored of charcoal, the Force felt dense with whatever had happened in Mandalore.
"No, Skywalker. A mission, already you have. Where your Padawan now is, hmm." The Grandmaster pointed at him with his gymer stick, and Anakin tucked in his chin with the soft admonishment, though inside his shielding, quiet rage flared at the condescending tone.
"Yes, Master," he said quietly. Then, what was the point of telling him about Mandalore? He had no useful insight to offer on this situation. Maybe the people rejected the Duchess's ideals of peace. If anything, Obi-Wan would - He widened his eyes. Oh no. Obi-Wan.
"You're dismissed, General Skywalker." Windu had no way of knowing what Anakin was thinking behind his shielding, and seemed a little miffed at the following question.
"Master Windu, where is General Kenobi?" He tried asking the question nonchalantly enough, but he knew his voice sounded strained.
"Need have you, of your former Master, hmm?" Yoda tapped the ground with his little wooden cane and the sound echoed inexplicably before Anakin formulated an answer.
"No, Master Yoda. But I felt something in the Force a few days ago. I think I might have felt it through him." Surely the Grandmaster would be understanding of this... premonition of the Force. And if the sadness in the aged green eyes was anything to go by, Yoda did understand his worry.
As he stood, half-frowning from a bad feeling, he felt the Force envelop him tightly. Every day of his life since he could remember, he'd felt the Light and the power at his fingertips, the power of everything living, the power of the stars, of the universe. From the time he'd been a boy in the desert to the multiple occasions when he was deflecting blaster fire with his glowing cerulean lightsaber, he knew the feel of the Force and knew it favored him. Yet, now, this was different. It swirled around him, a glowing fog that separated him from Windu and Yoda's gaze.
He blinked. But the fog was still there, and in it, a memory.
"Anakin, when the Council requests your presence, it is always of great importance." Obi-Wan spoke and Anakin sighed as he walked past his Master to the glass window that overlooked Coruscant's tall spiraling buildings and endless air traffic.
"If I'm late for another scolding, does it really matter?" He stared into his own reflection seeing a hooded young man in a Jedi cloak with a proudly long Padawan braid that adorned his shoulder.
"Scolding?" He rolled his eyes when he could hear his Master's mild impatience in that word. "You're not a little boy anymore. But as long as you are my student, you will heed my wisdom."
"You're right. I'm not a little boy anymore." He turned to face his Master with an angry glint in his eyes. "And as far as your wisdom goes, you're no Qui-Gon Jinn!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. And when he saw the hurt shock on Obi-Wan's face he wanted to take back everything he'd ever said and done to hurt his Master.
"Master, forgive me. I - I didn't mean - "
"I know. I miss him too." Obi-Wan's features softened, forgiving easily. "Not a day goes by that I don't look to his wisdom for guidance. I've done my best to pass his teaching to you. And in our time together, you have proven to me that you are capable of all he believed you would be." Obi-Wan put a fraternal hand on his shoulder. "And now we must leave our roles as Master and student. It is time we became," a soft squeeze to his shoulder and a suspicious twinkle in Obi-Wan's eye, "Brothers."
The fog receded as softly and subtly as it had appeared, the softest of breezes caressing his cheeks. Your brother waits for you... The Force whispered to him and Anakin realized Windu was addressing him once more.
"Go now, General Skywalker. Your victories are appreciated, and the Republic thanks you. May the Force be with you."
"Thank you, Masters. May the Force be with you as well." He bowed again, respectful and submissive. The better he behaved, the faster he could leave.
Still reeling from the memory the Force had chosen to show him, he left the Chamber, keeping his mental shields tightly in place.
Anakin's cloak billowed out behind him as his booted steps followed the direction to the Hangar. That memory had almost been forgotten in the afterglow of his Knighting ceremony and the look of fond pride and joy in his Master's - no, - brother's face that day.
Abruptly, he stopped walking and looked around him, turning his head from one side to the other. Where were the Padawans rushing to their classes? Where were the Knights and Masters arriving or heading out? There was no one. The Temple was so... empty. This war was keeping the Jedi too busy.
Without Ahsoka's lively presence beside him, without the thrum of life of the hundreds of men in his command, without the constant threat of a Separatist attack, the Force was quiet even with the raging hurricane, and he didn't like it.
Your brother waits for you, Anakin.
"Where?" He asked the empty hallways. "Where is he?"
But the Force was quiet and Anakin began walking again. He reached out to the Force, and sent a searching tendril out through the entirety of the Temple. He was looking for a particular signature, one he knew as well as himself, one that had been beside him long before the Clone War started, one that wasn't beside him often enough.
He was here. In the Temple, right now, but a few levels below him, in the training salles reserved for Knights and Masters.
Anakin quickened his step and practically ran to the nearest turbo lift. Pushing the button for the correct floor, he reached through the Force to the golden, glowing beacon of Light that was Obi-Wan's Force signature. He gave the durasteel mind shields, that did nothing to hide Obi-Wan's brilliant golden halo, an experimental nudge that was laced with relief and some amusement.
Hello, brother, he pushed the greeting along Obi-Wan's consciousness, knowing in the Force that this was right, the Force approved of this. If anyone could save him, it would be Obi-Wan.
But there was something wrong. Obi-Wan's signature had shrunk into itself, capsizing as if he was trying to hide from the Force itself. Anakin knew it was because Obi-Wan had thrown up an immensely thick wall around his mind, but.. why?
Kriffing stars, Obi-Wan, Anakin clenched his prosthetic hand as the turbolift slowed to a stop and its doors opened to the training salles.
There, at the far end of the large empty room, Obi-Wan stood in battle worn, blood red Mandalorian armor, with his back to Anakin. He moved, and Anakin saw the opening stance of Ataru before a fast arcing sweep of blue plasma blade was followed by an impressive backward spring. He heard the soft landing of Obi-Wan's boots onto the training mat and a soft groan. Obi-Wan was tired. Force knew how long he'd been here, trying to meditate his way through the instinctual muscle memory that drove him through the preferred lightsaber form of Qui-Gon Jinn.
It was then Anakin noticed Obi-Wan had his eyes closed. As he walked closer to observe his brother gracefully pivot and launch another set of strikes and Force-aided jumps, Anakin saw the bruises on Obi-Wan's face beneath the soot and grime of battle, the clean trails down his cheeks that had been tears at one point.
Obi-Wan crouched and jumped into another intricate Ataru kata that involved a mid-jump spinning kick that melded perfectly into a one-handed cartwheel once landed. In this way, Obi-Wan's only way of seeing was through the Force. His eyes remained closed, but the Force guided his movements.
Anakin chose not to interfere with this moving meditation and quietly walked to the side of the room, even though he was anxious to know why Obi-Wan was wearing Mandalorian armor and performing a saber form that wasn't his own. He knew Obi-Wan enjoyed meditating in the Temple gardens, in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, on his mat in his quarters, wherever there was quiet or green, wherever there was a thriving, serene current of the Force. It was easy for Obi-Wan to sink into the stillness of meditation, but for himself, Anakin crossed his arms with a sigh, it had never been an effortless task. This explained his muffled presence in the Force, then. If Obi-Wan could sink to a sufficient depth in the Force, sometimes he didn't realize how strongly shielded he became.
Obi-Wan pivoted and growled out another groan as he ducked and rolled, leaping at an invisible assailant, his lightsaber a fluorescent blur of azure. Then, a sudden backwards somersault, but Obi-Wan landed wrong and he gave a short cry when he landed on his back, his lightsaber switching off in his hand.
Anakin moved, about to rush to his brother's aid, like he would have on the battlefield, on the front lines before the neverending waves of Separatist droids. But the Force held him back and murmured patient assurances.
He obeyed, he served the Force after all. But if his heart clenched in his chest when he saw Obi-Wan sit up to put his face in his hands and heard the quiet sobs that made his shoulders shake, he would not let the Force take away his emotion. My brother, stretching out his hand to Obi-Wan, Anakin pleaded to the Force.
The other man flinched, but the Force ordered Anakin to stay put. It would shatter whatever was not broken in Obi-Wan for him to be seen like this.
But it was agony seeing Obi-Wan in such obvious pain, hearing him cry so openly, lost in his misery like a blind man in a sandstorm. And the Force was holding him back, there was nothing Anakin could do to help him. He tensed, angry at his state of powerlessness, and jumped when Obi-Wan let out a loud sound that was half-curse and half-sob. His shielding lowered minutely and Anakin felt the flood of bitter loss and self deprecation. No. Anakin would not stand idly to Obi-Wan's tormented tears.
Obi-Wan was a crumpled form on the ground, hunched over and forgetting to weep softly, consumed in pain and hopelessness, when Anakin kneeled beside him. Anakin's eyes filled with hot tears at seeing Obi-Wan broken. He extended a trembling hand to place on his weeping brother's shoulder, but thought of Obi-Wan Kenobi's reserve, his tight hold on showing emotions and his wariness of attachment. To Sith's hells with no attachments. He already broke the Code for Padmé. It was stupid to consider doing less for Obi-Wan, who, so wrapped in his misery hadn't even felt Anakin beside him.
"Obi-Wan," he spoke softly, finally placing a comforting hand on the other man's shoulder.
Obi-Wan stiffened and the Force around him was tainted with surprise and immediate shame. "Anakin," he rasped when he hesitantly brought his blue gaze up, swollen and red from tears, finally registering the warm, well-loved glow of power in the Force at his side.
Anakin felt a painful knot in his throat when he heard how alone, and tired, and heartbroken Obi-Wan sounded.
Obi-Wan angled his head away quickly, and swallowed thickly. "Anakin, I did not expect you -" He was trying so hard to sound steadied, but Anakin heard how close Obi-Wan's voice was to breaking.
He pulled closer to Obi-Wan, "Don't lie to me. Please."
"I'm - I will be fine." Anakin saw the visible strain in Obi-Wan to swallow down the pain, the futile attempts to stop the tears from gently streaming down his cheeks.
"Obi-Wan, please." This was Anakin begging Obi-Wan to open up to him, to share his plights with him, to stop keeping this to himself. After all, how many times had Obi-Wan comforted him as his Master, when he'd been a small Padawan and he missed his mother or felt marginized by the other young ones? And when Obi-Wan fell into him, crying, giving up on pretending strength, Anakin caught him in his arms, resting his head on Obi-Wan's with a final, sad sigh.
A few moments passed like this, the Force cocooning its sons, allowing the two halos of tarnished Light to bask with each other as Obi-Wan wept in Anakin's hold. Eventually, the sobs became softer shuddering breaths, and Obi-Wan carefully covered up his heart again, hiding it behind more armored walls and soon he was apologizing.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Anakin. I'm sorry." He pulled away into his own space, missing the warmth of where Anakin had had his arms around him. He wouldn't look up, rubbing instead at his eyes and face. He would not look up into his brother's face when he was so ashamed and grieving.
"Don't be, Obi-Wan. Please." Anakin had reluctantly let go. He knew Obi-Wan would close himself off again like he did himself, and this made him sad.
Obi-Wan had always been the calm in battle, the fixed point that was always steady no matter the tumult around. Anakin had seen the worst of this war, had seen the life bleed out of his men's eyes, had prayed to the Force to keep Ahsoka safe, Padmé safe, Obi-Wan safe. He felt the Coruscanti Force storm in the back of his mind when he stood in the Senate building, in the city's lower levels, before the Jedi Council. And when he did, he felt the grounding presence of his brother, who through his own lightsaber form, proved he was the eye of the storm. The surreal tranquility where there was sunlight in defense and morals, calm in the hope that the end of this war was near and Obi-Wan would be there beside him. It was not wrong if the eye of the storm sometimes lost itself, there was nothing wrong with that.
"Please, Obi-Wan. Tell me what's wrong."
"What's wrong, Anakin?" And Obi-Wan's voice bled bitterness from the vulnerability of moments before. "This war is wrong. This fight with no foreseeable end. We don't keep the peace anymore, we bring war and bloody destruction and ruin to the peaceful and the innocent!" Obi-Wan met Anakin's look with hurting ice in his gaze, anger and grief making him raise his voice. "We bring fire and conflict to the people and we do it in the name of the kriffing Senate, who dares not help those in need!"
"We kill those who would stand for peace." He began quietly, looking down into his hands as he realized what he was saying. "...And tear down their legacies." His voice grew rough and he grimaced when another tear rolled down his cheek. "We leave worlds destroyed and in chaos. We storm their homes and ignore what they stood for. We let the Dark ones get away, as if they weren't already always a step ahead of us. And we let down our friends . . ." Obi-Wan swallowed painfully, letting his sadness stain his aura in the Force. "And our beliefs, forgetting peace."
Anakin had grown still at Obi-Wan's bitterness. He had hoped he would never see a day when Obi-Wan got sick and tired of fighting. It confused him. Whatever had happened to the peacekeeper doing his job at the front lines?
"What happened?" His voice surprised him. He sounded as wary as he felt; and the wariness only increased when Obi-Wan ducked his head and covered his eyes with his hand.
". . . Maul. . . Maul killed. . ." This was too hard. Obi-Wan had been repeating this sentence to himself again and again in his head, the truth leaving him broken. But he could not say it out loud. There is no death, there is the Force. "Maul killed Satine. Just like he killed - Qui-Gon. And again, I just stood and watched." He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his auburn hair. "Anakin, the Code tells me that there is no emotion. There is peace. But I felt so angry, so full of hate and Maul sensed it. I was so close to..." He broke off.
So close to the Dark.
"There is too much sadness in this war, Anakin, too many horrors. . . Forgive me, I've already said too much. Blame it on the stims and withdrawal." He gave a mirthless smirk that ended in a wince.
"But Obi-Wan, we go to war so that there may be peace." This was the serious side of Anakin, and Obi-Wan appreciated it. His attempts to reason with him, to talk about all that was wrong and the hope that good would prevail. Still, the only response Anakin got was a dry, bitter chuckle.
"Peace, Anakin. I suppose it is good that war is so horrible, or we might grow to like it."
Anakin let Obi-Wan have the last word, and sighed sadly when the other man slouched and again hid his face in his hands. If there was any way he could have his brother look him in the eye as he remembered all they'd done for the sake of democracy in the Republic, he would do anything.
"She cried for you. At your funeral. She told me and Ahsoka that to her, you were the embodiment of the Jedi Code. I was trying to deal with - not having you beside me. I could not - I didn't know how to deal with - your death. It was through my bond with Ahsoka that I knew what was going on, what she was saying, sort of. She loved you."
Obi-Wan sat up again, guilt darkening the blue in his eyes and shifted so he could face Anakin and take his brother's hands in his own. Obi-Wan took in a shuddering breath as his eyes flickered to their joint hands, calloused digits, and softly roughened palms, before meeting Anakin's softened gaze.
"Anakin, forgive me. I made you suffer, and Ahsoka, too. I can't blame the Council for suggesting the idea, or Rako Hardeen for accepting the credits. I can't even blame the urgency to end the war. I knew it would affect you. I caused you pain. Forgive me. I shouldn't have - I should have never - Forgive me, I'm sorry, Anakin. I don't know what would be of me if you ever.. If I ever lost you."
There was so much sorrow and anguish in Obi-Wan's eyes, Anakin thought. Where had it been hiding for so long? Beneath it, in little ripples across the Force, shame. There is no emotion, there is no passion, he remembered suddenly.
But Anakin's mom had never been angry when he cried, when he grew angry at Watto, when he'd had his fits in their small home, when he had mourned the fellow slaves taken by the heat and hunger and sickness of the desert. Shmi had been gentle, and nurturing, and more than anything, understanding.
It had hurt to lose Obi-Wan. It had hurt to have been made a fool, to have been used. It had hurt that his feelings had meant so little. But now he realized that to Obi-Wan, his feelings did after all, mean something. He knew, also, that it had hurt Obi-Wan so much to watch Satine die. Now it was his turn to be understanding.
"Obi-Wan, you're hurting. And it is sentient to feel, to hurt. There is no shame in that. It's what makes us different from droids."
"But," came the weak protest, "It is not the Jedi way."
"The Jedi way is to be compassionate. You have to have compassion for yourself, too."
Anakin knew neither of them was completely comfortable with that idea. The Senate and the Council were always pushing them to the next system, the next planet, the next part of the war. It was always them pushing themselves to their physical limitations, their blood coursing with adrenaline and stims keeping them awake and functioning. They avoided the medics and the med bay, and relied on the Force and drugs to keep them going. There was no kindness for the Negotiator and the Hero With No Fear. They had to keep fighting. They could not afford to be considerate with themselves.
"Remember when you told me that dreams pass in time?" Anakin's voice was gentle now, his hold on Obi-Wan's hands reassuring.
"Yes," Obi-Wan looked down. "I'm so sorry I didn't send you to your mother."
A light tug from Anakin and blue eyes met blue. "I don't blame you for that. Don't blame yourself. And what I wanted to get to is this: dreams may pass in time, but the ones you loved won't. My mother is gone now, but I still have her with me, like you still have Qui-Gon. In the Force and," Anakin disjoined his hand and placed it on Obi-Wan's armored chest, the place above his heart, "here, too, is Satine. And hope. For all of us."
Though Anakin wasn't aware of the Force storm of Coruscant, they both felt a little lighter as the clouds lessened in density and darkness, the phantom winds quieted for the time being.
Obi-Wan gave a tired quirk of his lips, meager attempts at a smile, and reached over to tangle his hand in the dark curls at the nape of Anakin's neck, effectively bringing down his head so their foreheads could touch. They relaxed into each other, letting the Force in to heal their tired spirits.
"Anakin, my brother. You have grown into a wonderful Master." There was a sense of resigned quiet in Obi-Wan, reflected in his voice when he finally spoke again. Not yet peace, but perhaps with time, the quiet would make peace. "Ahsoka is fortunate to be your student, old friend."
"A lot like I was to have been yours." Anakin smiled when Obi-Wan chuckled.
"We learned from each other. And I'm sure, we shall continue to."
The two men helped each other up, camaraderie and the comfort of familiarity in their every shared touch and gaze and word. Around them, the Force seemed to sigh in relaxation, its tense front dissolving softly. There was hope for its Chosen One. His brother would help him find the Light, find the peace in the storm.
