Thanks to Tanydwr's story "Dark Queen and White Knight" for inspiration.
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Obi-Wan never understood Icarus, but he thought he was learning to understand Daedalus.
He was lying in bed looking over at his beaten padawan. He really should be getting around to reading the reports on the battle of Genosis, but he currently had the excuse of being so drugged as to not be thinking clearly yet and he was going to use it. Oh Anakin.
Looking at his brother/son/student's severed sword arm the teacher in him pointed out that it would have never happened if Anakin hadn't been so proud and Obi-Wan would really have to teach him to control his temper. The father in him pointed out it was his own fault for not teaching Anakin better and wanted to lock the boy in a tower so the rest of the world could never hurt him again. The brother in him wanted to go beat Dooku up. Obi-Wan decided that the last two were the drugs talking. But because it was the drugs talking, he didn't stop his line of thought.
Seeing your child so hurt, so broken, surpassed any pain Obi-Wan had known in his life. He wanted to go back in time and knock Anakin unconscious or maybe let him jump out of the gunship after Senator Amidala. Push him out of the gunship after Amidala if it came to that. Anything would be better than lying here and letting Anakin pretend that he was asleep so Obi-Wan wouldn't comment on the tear tracks.
Obi-Wan's heart felt like someone had taken a vibroblade to it. Dooku would have caused him less pain if the Sith ripped out his still beating heart and done the Kuat shuffle on it wearing a pair of Satine Kryze's more ridiculous shoes. Obi-Wan suddenly saw the rather disturbing image of Dooku dancing in jeweled high heals and decided that not only was he blaming this on whatever the droids gave him, he was also suppressing the image forever.
Anakin had flown so high, so certain of his triumph. Obi-Wan knew the fall was coming, but hadn't been able to stop it though Force knew he tried.
He felt Senator Amidala's force signature outside the door and closed his eyes. He subdued his force presence as if he were sleeping, a ruse he had not gotten around to teaching Anakin yet, he had enough problems getting the boy in bed on time when he was younger without Anakin knowing that particular trick.
Anakin and Amidala spoke softly to one another, comforting one another. Obi-Wan opened an eye just enough to see Amidala sweep a hand across Anakin's brow. They looked tenderly into the other's eyes and Obi-Wan didn't need the force to tell him that they were in love.
But how far would they go? How much would they risk? He knew the two could be idealistic, but Amidala was practical and levelheaded, while Anakin's childhood left him little room for naivety. Did they think this could last? Did they think the universe would change to accommodate them because they were in love? But then, they were young. Obi-Wan remembered his feelings for Siri. How it felt like they were at the center each other's universes for a time. But in the end the two of them chose the Jedi.
Anakin wouldn't. He would try to have it all. So very foolish. No one could fly to the sun on wings held together with hope and candle wax. But… shouldn't he have the chance to try.
Obi-Wan silently sighed. What should he do with his grown-up padawan, his newly adult son still living in the house? Was now the time to rein him in, or give him a chance to fly? Obi-Wan asked the Force for guidance in dealing with his headstrong, good-hearted boy. Confront Anakin, encourage him, or turn a blind eye and a deaf ear.
It seemed so harmless. Anakin had grown up knowing love and maybe letting Anakin love Amidala would help him through the coming war. Could he even stop the boy? Or would Obi-Wan only drive a wedge between himself and his padawan when they least needed it? But there was the code and there were rules and there were reasons for those rules. What defense could he muster save that he loved his little brother/son?
Obi-Wan was always unsure where he stood with his padwan in terms of affection. Was he showing too much, or not enough? Sometimes he felt like he was too much the teacher, appearing more interested in Anakin being perfect and not enough about Anakin. These days it seemed like he was always scolding the boy over something or another, but wary of giving praise in the face of the boy's arrogance. Afraid that his judgment was compromised by caring about Anakin too much.
Obi-Wan never thought it would be a problem. He cared for others over the Jedi before – the incident with Cerasi on Melida/Daan for example. But there was a cause involved there as well. Anakin may have been the "Chosen One" (he was going to go back in time and gag whomever made that thrice damned prophecy!) but Obi-Wan saw him as Anakin, just Anakin.
When do you trust your child and when do you hold him back? Be unattached, but how? How do you stop yourself from loving your child? Family or country? Love or duty? He never dreamed of having to make such a choice again. And he found himself even less prepared the second time.
"What does it matter what happens to the rest of the universe so long as he is finally at peace? What do you care if numbers of nameless, faceless people die in the vague future if here and now he is content? He has suffered enough, let him have this, whatever the consequences," a voice mocked.
Then it laughed, "does he really matter so much Jedi Kenobi? Do you care more for his dream than your duty; more for his temporary happiness than your master's dieing wish; more for his heart than Jedi principles; more for his life than the lives of others?"
But this was foolishness. Obi-Wan shook his head to clear away the voice. Anakin falling in love did not equal Darkness, Doom, Death, and The End of the Universe as We Know It! (Complete with people running screaming through the streets, buildings burning, and well-timed lightening strikes just for good measure.) Really, Jedi had fallen in love before, he was sure of it. Jedi had broken the Code before and the sky did not fall. Honestly, he thought he'd gotten rid of his melodramatic tendencies when he left his teenage years. This was definitely the drugs talking and he pushed away any vague notions to the contrary.
Maybe it was all for the best anyway. They were entering dark times. Anakin was a good person. He was brave, compassionate, and strong. Impulsive and hotheaded at times, but his heart was in the right place. If Obi-Wan were forced to choose someone perfect for his padwan Amidala would definitely be on the list. She was passionate, intelligent, and kind. A little naïve and over trusting, but she was strong-willed and refused to let her purpose be compromised. He was the strength and she was the wisdom; he was the power and she was the restraint; he was the devotion and she was the love; he was the heart and she was the soul. She was just right for him and he was made for her. Maybe they were perfect for each other for a reason.
Obi-Wan was not blind. For all he loved Anakin, he knew the younger man was far from perfect. Anakin was arrogant, ruthless, vengeful, quick to anger, competitive, immature, defensive, possessive, and conflicted. And buried deep within Anakin was a dark streak. In the right circumstances Obi-Wan knew in his heart, even if he had never seen anything to suggest he was right, that Anakin could be violent, bloodthirsty, and cruel. War brought out the best and worst in men. Maybe Padme could help. Maybe she could hold back the madness, draw Anakin from the darkness. Exceptions were made for Anakin before, perhaps just one more rule…
And yet, as wise as he was, Deadalus could not stop the smile that flitted across his face as he saw his son's joy and heard the boy's laughter. A small part of him whispered to let his child have this jubilation – it was Icarus' first taste of freedom – even as his mind knew the dangers.
Obi-Wan looked over at Anakin. His padwan was smiling, looking at peace, and for the first time in what seemed like years, but was closer to months, the shadows in his eyes began to retreat. Seeing the pain fall away from Anakin's face, Obi-Wan felt his heart settle, as if bands he didn't know were there suddenly loosened and fell away.
Well, "love makes wise men of fools and fools of wise men," as the saying went.
"So what are we Anakin? Wise men or fools?" Obi-Wan adjusted slightly on the bed. "If we are wise then I will have to thank you someday teaching me. If we are fools, then which of us is more foolish? You for running in, or me for following you? Yes a truly tremendous question," the Jedi mused, settling back, yanking his thoughts away from his padwan, "who's more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows him? An excellent line. I really shall have to use it someday."
News of war traveled. People were eager, afraid, plotting, resigned, angered. On the surface of Genonosis survivors grimly picked their way through the twisted metal wreckage and blood-splattered sands. But none of this pierced the cool, white infantry of steady beeps, whooshes of oxygen, and quiet murmurs hovering above. There Jedi Padawan Anakin Skywalker leaned up to lightly brush his lips across those of the woman he would one day burn the universe for and Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi closed his eyes.