Days passed in peace. They lived the kind of life that Obi-Wan had long since denied. Anakin would spend his days by working on bettering his limbs, or on meditating - bringing himself into harmony with the Force, or by attempting to heal his hair. It was such a silly thing to want so badly, but to Anakin, it meant a return to who he used to be not only in spirit but in body.

And on the third day, he finally succeeded.

Utilizing his much-smoother limbs to their full utility, he burst in on Obi-Wan where he stood making dinner. With an extravagant bow, he showed off his scalp. Where large wounds had previously reared up like slow-motion fleshy explosions, there was now a frighteningly smooth expanse of skin, sprinkled by a gently growing plume of sandy hairs.

Obi-Wan, despite his apprehension, congratulated his former student. Seeing him this excited was a deeply welcome change of pace that Obi-Wan gladly basked in.

As the days passed, Anakin's hair slowly grew into a short sand-blonde buzzcut that he was almost proud of.

And then, Obi-Wan had to leave. It was just going to be a quick stop at the Mos Espa spaceport for some supplies. A large part was Anakin's need for a specific part that, according to him, "would make walking feel like flying." Whatever that meant. Furthermore, since this was something of a favour for Anakin, he insisted on fixing up the speeder again and making it operational.

It should have been impossible. But, of course, when it came to the impossible, the word held pretty much no meaning before Anakin. The former four-seated landspeeder was twisted and reformed into a two-seated one, somehow looking more dashing than the original one even though it was physically less than half of it. Anakin brimmed with glee while presenting it, showing off added features and secret compartments and a hidden ion torpedo launcher he'd stashed in its nose. He wouldn't say what use such a weapon could have out here or where he got the ion torpedoes, but at this point, Obi-Wan knew it was best not to ask.

In all honesty, Obi-Wan wanted to turn it down. Driving any kind of starship - even so primitive as a regular landspeeder - was just not something he liked to do. It felt impersonal, so much more disconnected from the Force than any living creature.

But when looking into the eyes of his former student, how could he possibly refuse?

Then came the hard part.

"I haven't been there in years - do you still think they sell ruby bliels? I don't even remember what all the shops were called. Watto better not-,"

"You can't come along," Obi-Wan said, wincing as he saw the excitement drain from the face of his old apprentice.

"What?" he asked, and although his face showed nothing, in the Force, he bristled.

Maybe he should lie. The truth was that he - despite everything - simply couldn't trust Anakin. Not yet. A lot had happened, even more had changed, and yet he couldn't truly know that Anakin wouldn't do something. Out here, far away from all civilization, there was little damage Anakin could do if something went wrong. The only one who'd get hurt would be Obi-Wan himself and possibly Anakin. Most moisture farmers lived too far away to be of any consequence (or, rather, Obi-Wan lived too far away from them), especially so the most important one.

But the truth would hurt Anakin. It would hurt him deeply; undo progress and rip open old wounds. So, he told a half-truth.

"I need you to remain here and protect the house from any dangers," he said. "And, furthermore, if you were to see Watto, do you really think you could keep yourself from strangling him?"

It was said as a joke, but it struck Anakin hard. "I… Suppose you're right. Will you be able to find the proper parts without me? They're this long, have a little bulb over here..:"

Obi-Wan chuckled, "Of course, Anakin. Don't worry, you've given me a good idea of it."

While Anakin grumbled, Obi-Wan hoisted himself up on the already hovering speeder, getting a slight push from Anakin just to get his leg across. It was sleek and gave the impression of being able to go very, very fast, something Obi-Wan didn't doubt.

As Anakin pointed at every control and button and lever, explaining their use and purpose for the fifth time that day, Obi-Wan nodded and listened without actually understanding anything. Right. That lever made speeder go fast, that one made speeder shoot ion missile? Understood. The second he actually tried to do anything, the speeder flashed awake, and in just a second he was off flying, barely able to cast a glimpse behind him where Anakin watched him slack-jawed.

Air rushed around him, and off to Mos Espa he was.

He didn't trust him. That much was obvious.

Anakin paced back inside the house, feeling as the endless warmth of Obi-Wan's presence slowly receded into the distance. What was left was the almost warm torrent of Anakin's own presence. It wasn't as bright, or as warm, but it held that very same power. However, whereas Obi-Wan's presence was like a warm summer breeze, Anakin's was more like a swirling storm. This was how it had always been, ever since they first met.

Having spent so many years away from Obi-Wan, this difference was more obvious than ever.

But that didn't mean he was about to accept it.

Sitting in the middle of the main room in the hut, he crossed his mechanical limbs and began meditating. Moving meditation was what Anakin Skywalker had been proficient at, but now Anakin had to be more than that. He had to calm his storm. It was a measure of self-removing analysis. Looking more at the currents in the Force than at himself. The effect he had, rather than who he was.

He was a rock in a river. Around him, the Force parted and swirled, as much drawn to him as repulsed from. Anakin did not fight it. He was the rock, yes, but at the same time, he was the river that flowed alongside it. Carefully, meticulously, he tried to chip away at the boulder. To erode its layers, to lessen its upheaving effect on the river. It was tedious work. Forgetting little pieces of himself. A piece of himself - his anger at Obi-Wan for not trusting him - chipped off and floated down the river. Anakin let it go. Another part - his need to impress his former master - soon followed.

But it worked. Detached from himself, like a boy studying a faulty thruster engine in his hand, he was able to see the chips and faults. Where and why it didn't work. He worked with steady dedication, but all of a sudden, as his mind drifted along the river of the Force, he realized he wasn't alone.

Of course, in the Force, no one is truly alone. But it wasn't that.

Obi-Wan's presence was far away now, beyond the Dune Sea. His brightly shining torch was far across the ocean of sand.

But closer than that, flickering like a dying ember, was something else.

No, not a dying ember… A newly-born fire.

It flickered in the winds, small and young. A child. A mere child, whose touch brought ripples to the Force.

But it wasn't just that. It wasn't the fact that it was a child, or that their presence had been perfectly hidden by Kenobi's too-bright light. It wasn't that at all.

Because when Anakin reached out and felt that little presence, felt the embers of a growing fire kindle in his hand, so too did he feel a dawning realization. A timid recognition. A shy familiarity. It snuggled up against his hand, as he could remember it doing four years ago. His hand on his wife's belly, he had felt it move then too.

Anakin rose from where he sat and left the hut, moving towards where he knew his child would be with heavy and light strides.