Uncharted

Chapter 17: Coruscant, part I

I can't believe we actually pulled that off.

If one could ever describe a Jedi to be giddy, then Obi-Wan most certainly was: giddy with relief, good cheer and hopefulness. Against all odds, he and Anakin had managed to execute the nearly impossible mission with both of their lives and the Chancellor's intact. And not only that – the war seemed to have turned on its head in a single swoop, the desolate situation of the GAR suddenly looking a lot better. In a pivotal moment in the Clone Wars, the Separatists had taken a huge gamble and lost, while the Republic had prevailed.

None of it would have been possible without Anakin.

Obi-Wan looked at his former Padawan, letting a small smile take over his carefully neutral expression. Anakin sat across from him, politely listening to Palpatine's chatter. Although outwardly calm, the Chancellor was obviously still shaken by his kidnapping and all that had happened aboard the Invisible Hand, engaging Anakin in mundane chit-chat to cover his anxiety. Obi-Wan was content to stay out of the conversation, happily enjoying the gloriously smooth shuttlebus ride after the dramatic crash-landing of Grievous' dreadnought. It had been another successful landing, made possible only by Anakin's daring and skill as a pilot.

Eyes briefly catching Anakin's, Obi-Wan's smile widened as Anakin quickly turned his gaze back to the Chancellor, a hardly noticeable blush on his cheeks. Through their bond, Anakin felt sheepish, perhaps a little ill at ease – Obi-Wan hoped the majority of it was because of the verbal praise Palpatine continued to heap upon the young hero, and not because of the silent sense of glowing pride he surely felt coming unfettered from his former Master.

There had been many instances, when Obi-Wan had been proud of his apprentice; small, quiet moments of accomplishments, difficult and arduous tasks done well, brilliant acts of courage and intuition, harsh lessons learnt and hard missions overcome. He had told himself it was perfectly natural to be proud of his Padawan, when the boy's actions merited it, but had made sure to dispense his praise to Anakin with moderation. Now however, that feeling was threatening to overwhelm him. Anakin's actions on the Invisible Hand had been extraordinary, but certainly no less than Obi-Wan had expected from him. Perhaps his heart now beat so fiercely with pride, because he let it be fuelled with the love he could not acknowledge or express before.

While Obi-Wan himself had been unconscious, unable to help his Padawan even less than he had on Geonosis, Anakin had battled Dooku and won. He had single-handedly done something that all the forces of the Republic had tried and failed to do for the last three years. The leader of the Confederacy was dead, and the war was suddenly a lot closer to an end. True, Grievous had managed to once again scamper away, but even his escape couldn't dampen Obi-Wan's mood. The cyborg's capture or death seemed now a foregone conclusion.

None of it would have been possible without Anakin, who, it turned out, was quite good at making impossible things turn out possible. One of those things being making Obi-Wan so head over heels in love, he was seriously considering kissing Anakin long and deep in victory the moment they were somewhere a little bit more private – anywhere really that was away from the Chancellor's sharp-eyed gaze.

Perhaps he would soon get his wish; the shuttlebus was approaching one of the landing platforms of the Senate Office Building. Hopefully they would not be mired in the trifling politics for long, but could finally go to the Temple – to home. To his consternation, as they got closer, Obi-Wan could see the Chancellor's usual entourage and a row of politicians waiting for them, Bail and Mace among them. Padmé did not seem to be present, but Threepio's golden plating was impossible to miss. Surely the protocol droid was there on Padmé's bidding, bearing a message to Anakin.

Anakin's and Padmé's reunion had always been imminent upon their arrival to Coruscant. It was the thought of what came after it that made Obi-Wan's insides ache painfully; either Anakin would come back the next day to tell him that he and Padmé had made up, or he would come back long before that…to be with Obi-Wan. It was Anakin's choice.

When the shuttlebus landed, Palpatine was the first to disembark, his sycophants quickly surrounding him with dramatic swirls of their expensive cloaks and robes. Next, Anakin stepped to the ground, only then realizing that Obi-Wan did not intent to follow. In the distance, Threepio was already tottering towards Anakin.

"Are you coming, Master?"

"Oh no, I'm not brave enough for politics. I have to report to the Council. Besides, someone needs to be the poster boy." Obi-Wan leant casually on the shuttlebus' doorway. It was not hard to adopt an upbeat tone; after all he was in a good mood, nothing being able to dim the relief he felt at the nearing of the war's end.

Anakin's lips twitched as he took on – badly – the mantle of fake-outrage. "Hold on, this whole operation was your idea."

"Let us not forget Anakin, that you rescued me from the buzz-droids. And you killed Count Dooku, and you rescued the Chancellor, carrying me unconscious on your back."

"All because of your training," Anakin claimed graciously, but there was a familiar glimmer of impishness in his eyes.

Obi-Wan smiled widely. "Anakin, let's be fair, today you were the hero, and you deserve your glorious day with the politicians." The words were mocking, but behind them was the genuine pride. His Padawan had done well and deserved all the accolades he would no doubt get from the people on the platform.

Anakin heard the unspoken praise too, but he answered in kind, the familiar banter a well-used method of caring between them. "Alright, but you owe me one, and not for saving your skin for the tenth time."

"Ninth time – that business on Cato Neimoidia does not count," Obi-Wan reminded him pertinently. "I'll see you at the briefing." At the latest.

As the shuttlebus rose from the platform, Obi-Wan watched as the people below slowly walked inside the Senate Office Building, Anakin keeping the rear, Threepio right behind him.

-o-

There was no time to think – as soon as Obi-Wan had bailed out and left Anakin to deal with the politicians, Threepio was there, anxiously telling him that Padmé wanted to meet him, that it was very important, herding him towards a speeder –

There was no time to think just how in the galaxy he was going to tell his Master what had happened with Dooku; that Anakin had executed an unarmed man, cut off his head. He felt ill just thinking about it – he had known immediately after he had done it, that it had been wrong, that Obi-Wan would be so disappointed, that it was not the action of a Jedi. But Anakin had just wanted the war to be finally over, and certainly Dooku would have tried to wriggle his way back to freedom by any means; he had been too dangerous to be left alive. The Chancellor had agreed with him. And Anakin – he had been angry.

During the whole shuttlebus ride, Obi-Wan's pride in Anakin had felt like the worst possible accusation, pricking at him incessantly. It was all so maddening: he needed time to think how he was going to tell his Master, and he needed time to plan how he was going to tell Padmé how he felt about Obi-Wan, but there was no time, for the speeder was fast approaching the Senate Apartment Complex.

Padmé was waiting for him on the open veranda. As always, she was beautiful, dressed in a light blue gown, wavy hair tumbling down her back. When she saw him, a lovely smile lit up her face. Despite everything, Anakin's heart jumped from joy, from the memory of their love. He was happy to see her again.

"Ani, I'm so glad you are back safe."

Before, Anakin would not have hesitated to take her into his arms; now he stood awkwardly in front of her, arms hanging empty at his sides. Padmé did not make any move towards him. For a moment, they were as strangers. How he would have moved past that intolerable feeling, he would never know, for suddenly there was something –

Mind in turmoil, it had taken Anakin that long to notice, to feel, that in the Force were two faint pulses of life, two distinct heartbeats, inside of her.

"You are – how?" He stuttered, completely floored. The freely flowing dress covered her stomach, but now that he was really looking, Anakin could see the subtle outline of her round belly.

"That night before you left," Padmé explained with a little laugh. She looked so happy, but then her face was marred by a frown, her worry becoming evident. "I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you before, but the risk was just too great. Only Sabé, Ellé and Moteé know."

"This is…I don't know what to say." Anakin had never thought about being a father – had never thought he could be. Suddenly it hit his consciousness with the weight of a dreadnought: it didn't matter what he thought, he would be a father. To twins. Force. It was one more thing he had no idea how to break to Obi-Wan.

"Are you angry?" Padmé asked carefully, observing every twitch of Anakin's expression like he was her toughest political opponent.

"No!" Anakin was quick to deny. The anxiousness in her eyes cut him to the bone. He needed to be a better man, not just for himself and for Obi-Wan, but for her too – and for their children. "I never thought – I'm happy, truly. And confused and worried –" All of a sudden, a terrible idea took hold of him, the images of his nightmare so clear. "But are you alright? Is everything fine with you and the babies?"

"Yes, we are fine," Padmé reassured him gently, her words only partly managing to placate the insidious fear living inside of him. His nightmares about Padmé made more sense now, the way she had been in pain, the sounds of a crying child.

"You are sure?"

"Yes, Anakin." Padmé was looking at him with fondness, but behind her soft expression was the familiar core of steel. Anakin knew she would do everything in her power to take care of her children.

All of a sudden it was the easiest thing in the world to step up to Padmé, to carefully envelop her in a gentle embrace, Anakin all too mindful of not pressing her too tightly to him. Padmé let him, her forehead coming to rest on Anakin's shoulder. He could feel the press of her round belly against him, and marvelled at the lives they had created. It was still difficult to fully understand: he was going to be a father. Hugging Padmé, he was also hugging his children, their presence already so distinct, so bright in the Force.

The moment lasted long enough that Anakin felt a little bang of regret for all that could have been; for the proper family they could have made together. But life was never that simple, and soon Padmé was pulling away from his hold and saying, "It's a relief you were finally able to come to Coruscant – the babies are going to be born in a few weeks, and before that, I plan to go to Naboo, to the Lake Country. I want to give birth there, and I am going to probably stay there for a while, it's a good place to be."

The plan made sense, since the remote area of Naboo's Lake Country was an ideal place to have a child – Force, children in plural– in secret, and no one would much wonder if the Senator of Naboo took a little vacation on her home planet. However, Anakin couldn't help but notice that she hadn't yet revealed how he fit in all of her plans. "What about your work? Will you come back to the Senate?" What about me?

"I doubt the Queen will let me continue to serve in the Senate, especially when – if it comes out that you are the father." Padmé looked at Anakin sharply, her face suddenly impassive. "Do you want it to come out? If it does, the Council will surely expel you from the Order."

Anakin swallowed painfully, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had a duty and a commitment to the Republic and to the Jedi Order, and most importantly to Obi-Wan, but so he also had to Padmé and their children. He wanted to do right by all of them, but that seemed impossible as the different obligations and vows were so at odds. What should he do? What could he do?

"I want…I want to be a part of my children's lives, of course I do. And I don't want to hide the fact that I'm their father, I'm not ashamed of that," Anakin started to speak, the words tumbling out of him unrehearsed and unplanned, surprising himself too. It was not until that moment he decided what to do. "I will always be there for you, as much as I can. But – I'm sorry it can't be yet. I have to see this war through, and until it ends, I have to stay a Jedi." He could not leave Obi-Wan to fight the war alone, could not leave his men – it was painful to think he would probably miss the birth of his children, their first weeks, maybe months, but by finishing the war he would be fighting for their future too.

Padmé's eyes shined, the small twist of her lips wistful. "I understand. I had a feeling that would be your decision."

"It will not be for long," Anakin hurried to convince her. "The war will be over soon, I know it. After that we can figure things out, some way for me to be there for the babies." With any luck and Force willing, Obi-Wan would be there too, with Anakin, still loving him despite everything.

"Anakin," Padmé started hesitantly. "I want you to be a father to our children, they and you deserve that. But us – our relationship –"

"I understand," Anakin interrupted, relieved that they seemed to be on the same page concerning their marriage.

"You do?" She sounded sceptical, and Anakin couldn't blame her. There was a time not so long ago, when he would have never believed he would ever say what he was going to say now.

"You were right about us, of our relationship being…something it should not have become." Anakin had thought he had already come to terms with their marriage dissolving, but it still hurt to talk about it. "And I know that is mainly my fault. I'm sorry. I thought about things – us – a lot and…" Anakin forced a bright grin on his face, saying, "I think we should be the best of friends."

"That's…" A small smile spread across Padmé's face, transforming her cautious expression to one of wonder. "That sounds perfect." Anakin was once again reminded how deep his love for her still was, how he owed her so much, most importantly the truth.

"And I have – I have to tell you that I –" The right words got stuck on his throat, so finally Anakin just blurted out, "I love Obi-Wan. I mean…I am in love with Obi-Wan."

Padmé looked at him in pure astonishment. It seemed that Anakin had managed to accomplish the rarest of feats: rendering her speechless. Nervousness was fast gaining ground, making Anakin's stomach swirl nauseatingly, but still, it felt good to finally told someone. With a sudden shock, he realized he hadn't actually told even Obi-Wan that yet – not in those words at least. Anakin resolved to tell him soon; he would tell his Master everything soon.

"And I think…I think he loves me back."

Somehow it was that addition, said hesitantly, almost as an afterthought, that broke Padmé's silent wonderment. The look in her eyes was a mix of gentleness and exasperation. "Of course he does."

-o-

It was late.

Obi-Wan rose from the sofa and poured the dregs of his cold tea down the kitchen sink. His eyes felt gritty for staring at his datapad for so long. He should go to sleep; it had been a long day and tomorrow would be as well, scheduled full with briefings and drawing of battle plans, everyone determined to track Grievous down.

He should go to sleep – or he could make another cup of tea, read another report. Obi-Wan's hand hovered over the kettle, undecided. There was no fooling himself; he wanted to wait for Anakin, he wanted to reach out through their bond and seek out his Padawan's presence. The former he had done all evening while ostensibly immersing himself in the paperwork, the latter he had been too much of a coward to even try.

It was late. Perhaps it was time to acknowledge that Anakin would not come – that he had something important that kept him from the Temple – someone important.

Unbalanced by the indecision and restlessness, by the uncommon chaos of his mind, Obi-Wan was utterly taken aback when the main door swished open and Anakin strode unceremoniously inside, as usual forgoing knocking and nonchalantly using Obi-Wan's code to enter his Master's quarters.

"You came back." Obi-Wan could not cover the surprise in his voice, eyes taking in Anakin's appearance – his clothes still a little singed and rumpled from the earlier battle, hair in disarray and eyes tired, and still, always,so devastatingly handsome –, as his other senses felt carefully along their bond, encountering a swirl of hope, anxiety and anticipation.

"Of course," Anakin said, sounding slightly amused. However, he stopped short of the living area, standing almost uneasily in front of the now closed door.

"Did you have a good evening?" Obi-Wan asked casually, even as his heart thudded painfully. He exited the open kitchen, gesturing at Anakin to take a seat on the sofa. His former Padawan ignored him, staying where he was as if he was still unsure of his welcome.

Anakin's solemn gaze found Obi-Wan's, sincere and unapologetic. "Yeah…I went to see Padmé. We talked and…I told her about us."

"You did?" A tingling warmth was spreading all over Obi-Wan, waking up his every nerve.

A small grin flickered across Anakin's face. "You don't have to sound so surprised, you know. I said I wouldn't change my mind."

"So you did." The good-humoured lightness of before, the joy and hope their successful mission had created, it all flooded back; Obi-Wan swooped in to finally claim his kiss of victory. Anakin made a little breathless oh, clearly taken by surprise, but was soon enough kissing Obi-Wan back with admirable enthusiasm. Somehow, they ended up against the door, Anakin leaning back, while Obi-Wan pressed closer to him, hand snaking to caress his Padawan's neck, hip making contact with Anakin's.

They broke the kiss only to draw breath, and Anakin exhaled a thready wait, just before Obi-Wan could seek his lips again. He paused, amazed anew how touching Anakin made all his rational thoughts and any sense of caution fly out the window.

"I need to tell you something." His Padawan sounded so grave, so anxious, that Obi-Wan tensed, waiting for some new calamity, news that would upend his world. In a way, he was right.

Anakin's eyes shone with the fervour of all he felt; Obi-Wan heard the words clearly even before they were said aloud. "I love you."

Anakin's confession could hardly be a surprise at that point, and yet Obi-Wan found himself still struck by it straight to the heart. He wondered how something so good could hurt so much. There was only one way to answer him – with the truth.

"And I – I love you." Obi-Wan loved him with all he was and all he had; every dream, every wish, every thought of the future was threaded with that love, with Anakin's name.

His Padawan looked stunned. Then his face brightened with a brilliant, teasing smile that never failed to lift Obi-Wan's spirit. "Does this mean I don't have to wait anymore?"

"Dearest, do shut up," Obi-Wan deadpanned and cut Anakin's joyous laughter off with kisses and more kisses, until all else but the glorious, heady feel of them together was completely forgotten.