"Master, it's time to go to dinner," Anakin spoke gently to wake Obi-wan, who had collapsed face up on the sleeper still fully clad in his boots and cloak.
Obi-wan gave no response. Anakin hesitantly stepped further inside the room. "Master?" He called out louder. The man still hadn't moved.
Anakin came in closer still, a slight fear creeping over his senses that was quickly brushed aside. He was breathing at least. Anakin reached out to put a hand on the man's shoulder to shake him awake, but stopped just shy of contact.
Anakin found himself in slight awe. This is what Obi-wan looked like when he was at peace. The gently weathered lines in his beautiful features relaxed, nearly smoothing out entirely, but not quite. In them were the phantom tells of smiles, frowns, that stern face he made whenever he was in deep thought. No one would ever know the ways he had seen this man's face filled with such passion, but Anakin remembered.
It made him nervous to think about, just the slightest current of fear under the ocean of his own emotions, which largely remained unknown even to himself. Anakin traced a finger bodly over Obi-wan's lips, wondering what he might feel if he kissed him. Still, his Master didn't wake. The thought pulled on his desires, to pull a hand through Obi-wan's auburn hair, to feel his lips, soft and warm, pressed against his mouth.
Before Anakin could think to act on his urges, a loud knock at the door of their quarters sounded throughout the dwelling. Anakin jumped, as Obi-wan startled awake as well. Anakin could feel his aura bright with shock, as he was violently pulled from sleep to the present moment, where his Master stared up at him in dither.
"I was just about to wake you. It's time for dinner," Anakin said, visibly flustered as his face flushed bright red. He pursed his lips and glowered at the ground in embarrassment.
"Oh, well then let's get going, shall we? It appears I'm dressed and ready to go." Obi-wan answered back, moving quickly past his obvious surprise. Anakin was glad for his Master's discretion, but it didn't entirely relieve him of his distress.
He followed the man out the door of their quarters to meet with Zaann, who patiently waited to escort them to the dining hall. He had shown it to them during their tour, and since the temple of Eedit was similar in layout to that of the Coruscant temple, they would have been easily able to find their way on their own, as had they expected to. But on Devaron, as they were learning, people operated differently by default.
"Did you get some rest? Feeling more refreshed I hope," Zaann said with a wide smile.
"Indeed. Thank you." Obi-wan said with polite formality.
"I feel like you've gotten to know me quite well this morning, I know once I get going, I just can't stop talking. But I feel like I've hardly gotten to know you yet, Master Kenobi." Zaann said with a genuine quality to his voice as they started down the corridor towards the dining hall.
Anakin could sense his Master was put off by the blunt openness that Master Qualturus seemed to habitually employ. Anakin on the other hand, found it quite refreshing, and equally amusing for his Master to have to put up with such a strong personality. It wasn't difficult to discern the fact that Obi-wan, however much he respected Zaann, did not feel at ease in the presence of someone so relentlessly blithe.
"Well I suppose we'll have the chance to become better acquainted over the next couple of weeks." Obi-wan said with self imposed brightness.
"Yes, I'm dying to learn more about you Master Kenobi. You are somewhat of a haroled figure in the order, you must know." Qualturus rambled. Anakin could sense his Master's surprise.
"How do you mean?" Obi-wan asked with genuine curiosity and just a touch of concern.
"The only living Jedi to ever slay a Sith, is what I mean. And you were only a Padawan at the time, yes?" Zaann asked expectantly, his grin suddenly becoming cumbersome to Obi-wan. It was apparent in the way his eyes grew dull, retreating inwards rather than trying to appease the man further.
Anakin knew what a touchy subject it was for his Master. The wound, however long ago it had been, was still fresh in some ways. He knew the bond between Obi-wan and his own Master had been forged strong. Anakin could never imagine losing his Master in such a horrific incident, being helpless as he could do nothing but watch. Even still, the manner in which Obi-wan retreated told Anakin that Zaann had touched on much more than an old wound. Obi-wan was the only living Jedi to ever kill a Sith, and now he had a total of ten of their deaths bestowed to his name.
"It's hardly a feat I've sought out for myself." Obi-wan said defensively, seeming to regret the irritation in his words the moment he had spoken them.
"Of course not, I'm sorry I don't mean to glorify such things. But you must see what a fascination that has created in the minds of many other Jedi." Zaann countered, slightly recanting his enthusiasm for the subject.
Obi-wan have a quiet sigh as he gathered his composure yet again. "I suppose I can see the enigma which might appeal to some." He replied, steadily regaining his lighter demeanor.
"But there is much more to the man, is there not?" Zaann asked, directing his question towards Anakin, who looked back at Qualturus with raised brows.
He was right, there was so, so much more. Anakin swallowed his deep agreeance with the sentiment, giving only a polite smile in return.
Anakin could feel his Master's understanding of the shift in his emotions, as Obi-wan's aura shifted in kind. Suddenly Qualturus's presence became more of an interrogating one, which immediately shut down both Master and Padawan to reciprocating any more probing.
Of course in response to such an obvious change to the tone of the conversation, Zaann became that much more curious. "You two are an interesting pair. I can see how you would be an effective team in the field." He noted. The observation was met with an uneasy silence from both Obi-wan and Anakin.
"I apologize. I'm often told by my Padawan that I can be too much." Zaann recanted.
"It's quite alright, Master Qualturus. I'm afraid I'm still rather tired, which makes me poor company." Obi-wan said kindly.
Finally, they arrived at the dining hall. As soon as they entered, Zaann's Padawan Jerot strode over to meet the three of them. Jerot's eyes, which Anakin had discovered were actually a cold steel grey, sparkled brightly as he greeted them. "Master Kenobi, Skywalker, I hope you both were able to rest some?"
"I do believe our guests are still quite exhausted," Zaann answered for them. Anakin had, for the most part, felt just fine. But it was apparent Obi-wan was indeed quite fatigued still. But they remained silent, letting Zaann's statement speak for them instead.
"They will no doubt want to eat and go straight back to their quarters to sleep some more." Zaann concluded. Obi-wan's aura felt brighter for the understanding, that he wouldn't be obliged to pander to too much of the man's incessant questions. But the sense of understanding only went so far.
"Anakin, why don't you go and sit with Jerot for dinner, while your Master and I become better acquainted?" Master Qualturus suggested happily.
Anakin looked to his Master for permission, sensing Obi-wan probably didn't want to be left alone with the overly jolly man who had already quickly exhausted him.
"That sounds like a great idea," Jerot said happily, a suave smile brightening his expression.
Obi-wan, however he resented it, was not in the position to dissent to such a benign request. This was a Jedi temple after all, and these were hardly their enemies. Anakin understood the placid smile that spread over his Master's lips in response, with a twinge of empathy.
"You boys don't want to be burdened down by the company of two old men, anyhow." Obi-wan said. Something about the way he spoke those words, stung at Anakin's heart. He quickly brushed it aside for the sake of circumstance.
Jerot pulled on Anakin's arm lightly, directing him away from their Masters. "Let's get some dinner." He suggested.
"Sure," Anakin replied in a casually neutral tone, as he turned away from Obi-wan, leaving his Master at the mercy of Master Qualturus. He could feel the dull irritation burn across their bond. It made Anakin feel another pang of sympathy for him, with a slight brace of humor against it. There was always a certain gratifying entertaining quality to seeing his Master so gracefully navigate situations that would make the man grumble, as he would never show it. Not to others, anyhow. But he could never hide it from Anakin.
….
Obi-wan enjoyed the atmosphere of the temple of Eedit, and he respected that things were different. The diversity was to be expected, he thought. And it wasn't so much that he didn't trust Master Qualturus, because he did. But there was something about the man's brazen jolly demeanor that couldn't be conquered by hints or courteous smiles, or acquiescent nods. He had the outward expression more that of a politician by means of charisma, but without the dishonest undertow of agenda to demean it. His energy was exhausting, but in some ways admirable. Obi-wan didn't consider himself quite so outgoing, not that he found himself as an introvert either. Reserved, perhaps, was the word to describe himself.
But it was regrettable how Zaann seemed to push all the subliminal buttons to put Obi-wan on his guard. The fascination about dead Sith was only one off-putting factor in the situation that was making him feel more uncomfortable as time pressed on. The man had an unrestrained childlike curiosity that grated on Obi-wan's nerves.
As much as the force presence in the temple was notably strong, it didn't wash his sins and regrets away with its presence, although he had tried to work on his faults. For all the bits and pieces of himself that he deemed still undesirable, even close to the dark, Qualturus seemed to hone in on those weaknesses and pick at them relentlessly.
He and the Zabrak Master sat alone at a table on the edge of the dining hall, where Obi-wan could look out and see Anakin sitting with Jerot, where he was being introduced to a small group of other Padawan's his age. With regret he could see Anakin's reluctance to open up to the others. He had always had such a difficult time making friends in Coruscant. He hoped this place would be healing for him in all ways.
A selfish thought crept up in his mind- the hope that Anakin wouldn't divulge the details of their previous mission to any newfound friends. It stabbed at Obi-wan's heart to be able to think such a thing. He logically concluded Anakin would be too withdrawn and bashful to ever speak any of it. Obi-wan regarded his relief and at the thought with a measure of horror. What was the purpose of such motivations?
He was afraid of the same thing Anakin had been before- that they would be forced apart from one another. Though what scared Obi-wan the most were the gaps in his memory. The moments he couldn't account for, where he relied on Anakin's word that more hadn't transpired. That vision, the thought that it might have been enacted on his Padawan's flesh made Obi-wan's blood curdle.
Obi-wan hadn't been careful to censor his emotions from leaking across their bond. He turned a shade paler when Anakin looked at him from across the room, his eyes docile yet inquiring. He must have been able to feel the fear, Obi-wan thought. He prayed he couldn't tell more, but drawing conclusions had never been particularly comforting in any regard.
"You worry about your Padawan." Zaann said, his voice broaching a subject well left alone.
"Don't we all, Master Qualturus?" Obi-wan said in a forced neutral voice, stirring his fork in the food he was trying to act interested in eating. It wasn't particularly bad food, in fact it was quite flavorful. Only Obi-wan wasn't too interested in eating with the mood he was in.
"At times, I suppose." The man countered in a learned way, as he tried to bring his eccentricity down to Obi-wan's level of reservation. "And you, do you worry excessively, or justly?"
Obi-wan let out an honest laugh. Master Qualturus brightened. "Both. Anakin is a challenge. He always has been, testing my limits as well as his own." He answered, feeling something inside himself unlock. Only a small part of himself took that thought to conclusion, meandering along the line of all the limits Anakin tested without his meaning to. The way he pushed him to the brink by simply existing. How long had it been that way?
"As all Padawans ought. We are richer beings for all the ways we help each other grow." Zaann said thoughtfully.
Obi-wan nodded in agreeance. "And how you put it, makes it seem so much more delightful than it truly is." He said with a tired smile.
"You got me there, Kenobi." Zaann smiled, taking a sip of his drink. "So, how do we compare to Coruscant? Are you regretting the job already?" He said with a raised brow, poking his elbow into Obi-wan's ribs in jest.
"No, no regrets. It's truly nice here. Much more peaceful than Coruscant could ever be." Obi-wan said honestly.
But then as if to prove his words false, a bolt of dampened rage flashed across from Anakin- one that might have been perceived by others but that was loudly felt by Obi-wan from across their bond. His gaze shot across the dining hall just a moment before Anakin slammed his fist against the table, causing the mumbling drone of conversation amongst the other occupants of the dining hall to draw into silence.
Jerot said a few quiet words as he put a hand on Anakin's shoulder in what appeared to be an attempt to calm him down, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Obi-wan could sense the simmering rage as Anakin shrugged away from the well meaning contact and got up to leave. Obi-wan looked on at his Padawan with distress as the boy made a beeline for the exit.
"And there you go again, worrying after that boy." Zaann remarked. "Both excessively and perhaps justly, it would seem." Obi-wan let out a defeated sigh.
In the next moment Jerot stood up, moving in pursuit of the disgruntled Padawan. "Well I ought to go attend to the situation. I'll see you in the morning, Master Qualturus." Obi-wan said with a nod as he moved up from his seat, making to intercept Jerot's path.
"8am sharp in the dojo is when your first class begins, don't be late Master Kenobi!" Zaann called after him as he departed. Obi-wan didn't turn and acknowledge the statement, but regarded it with dull aggravation. Teaching the basic saber forms to a class of younglings would be the least of his problems.
Just before Jerot made his way past the doors of the dining hall, Obi-wan caught up with him. "Padawan Tokani," he said in a stern yet gentle tone.
Jerot turned with wide eyes, a corona surprise cresting his aura. Obi-wan stifled a smile at the reaction, remembering when he had also been a Padawan, so easily intimidated, who took others entirely too seriously the majority of the time. "Master Kenobi," he started, looking as if he had gotten himself into trouble. "I'm sorry about what happened-"
"How Anakin chooses to behave is not your responsibility." Obi-wan stated simply with an air of confusion towards the statement. He found it odd that a Padawan of Master Qualturus would internalize the actions of others. Nothing about the man would lead one to believe he would ever suggest such lines of reasoning.
"I know," Jerot recanted defensively, correcting his faulty train of thought. His eyes bore the burden of guilt beneath furrowed brows. The boy looked like he might have had something more to say, but remained silent. A wave of understanding dawned on Obi-wan, stirring curiosity beneath it.
"Go back and finish your supper. I'll deal with my Padawan." He said with interested eyes. There was something more to the situation that led to matters that were no doubt prohibited by the rules of the Jedi order. It wasn't uncommon for Padawans covertly break such rules. Obi-wan knew for himself that had been the case. He willfully ignored the part of his mind that reminded him just how badly he still fell short in his present state.
"Alright," the boy said carefully, with cautious eyes. "Can you tell Anakin I'm sorry?"
"Whatever it is you think you have to be sorry for, I think you'll get the chance to explain yourself to him tomorrow." Obi-wan said with a reassuring smile. "Good night, Padawan Tokani."
"You as well, Master Kenobi," the Padawan said with a respectful bow of his head before he turned and sauntered back towards his small group of friends.
With a raised brow, Obi-wan turned and walked with patient steps towards their shared quarters. Anakin wasn't the sort to make quick friends, but the way things had turned sour were not indicative of his usual aversion to others his age. Between that and Jerot's suspicious demeanor, Obi-wan's curiosity was more than piqued.
As he walked through the door to their small apartment, Obi-wan heard the tale end of sobbing from behind Anakin's bedroom door as the boy forced himself into silence for fear his Master might hear him. The loud streams of sadness, hopelessness and despair still came through their bond unabated by any effort to dampen them. All cognitive and inquiring processes came to a halt as they wrapped themselves around Obi-wan's heart, pulling tight until he couldn't breathe.
This feeling, the one of being overwhelmed, assaulted and exhausted by his Padawans emotions, had been a constant trial ever since he had awoken from their previous mission. It was why he had been so distant. He had felt Anakin's raging emotions, the boy's confused heart pulling towards him, though neither of them ever spoke of it. He didn't want to do so much as to think about it. When he did, he felt his own heart stir in kind.
It was more than a Masterly response. Certainly no Jedi Master would enjoy seeing their Padawan suffer, but it wasn't just that. It was a deep ache that manifested inside his core that could only be soothed by tending to Anakin's sorrows in a much more physical manner than would ever be appropriate between Master and Padawan.
He wanted to push past the urges to kiss away his tears, to calm his sobbing with soft sweet touches and tender embraces. For the past week that effort had manifested in a strict, stern Jedi Master's approach accompanied by distance any time Obi-wan didn't think he could combat those urges. His urges were ones that had started as simple fleshly desires, and transformed into a much more consuming sort of thing. It dug roots into every piece of how he saw Anakin. He was afraid to let himself wander over the word in his mind that accurately described how his feelings had transformed.
The more he tried to work past the vision where he had let himself do those unspeakable things, the more he sensed something beyond the physical attraction. It was so much more than lust or infatuation. He wondered if it had always been there, waiting to be noticed. It felt like a nightmare as the true scope of his feelings came into view. It derailed everything he was supposed to be.
He couldn't. He wouldn't. He would continue on as he had, until his feelings changed back to what they had been, once upon a time. He would act like his love for Anakin didn't transcend that of the typical Master Padawan bond. He would tell himself he didn't love him. He would try to believe the lie.
Obi-wan would try to rationalize how he couldn't truly feel such a thing for Anakin. If he did, how could he violate him so willingly, even if only in a vision? The answer came to him in the sickness he felt when he thought of it. He wanted to go back and wrench himself from those decisions, the thought that it would be harmless, that Anakin wasn't actually being hurt. How wrong, how terribly wrong he had been.
He had known, hadn't he? But he wasn't thinking straight. Obi-wan tried to rationalize it every which way in his mind. He couldn't. It was inexcusable, especially if he claimed to love him. In the light of his supposed love, it made the act even worse somehow. As if it could ever be worse. It was a scar on his heart that he would forever see as making himself unworthy of even feeling such love for him. In so many ways, he didn't deserve him.
But Anakin needed him all the same. He needed him to be the Master Qui-gon would have wanted him to be. Gentle and kind, yet stern and accounting. Jinn had set an example that was difficult to live up to. And how miserably he was failing. Though Obi-wan couldn't quit.
And the light of the force around him resonated encouragingly with his determination. He mustered the energy to push past the feelings of self doubt and shame. The force would take it from him freely, waiting with outstretched hands to pull the burden away. And he did, not that it washed his soul free of it's damning stains, but it would help him be better. For Anakin, he had to be.
This was the cycle of self defeating thoughts and overwhelming emotion that Obi-wan experienced over and over when Anakin was in pain. Here on Devaron, the process of releasing it became easier as the force seemed more willing to lighten his conscience, even if only for fleeing moments.
If it weren't for such momentary relief from the weight of his ever brewing guilt, Obi-wan wouldn't have been able to muster the courage to knock lightly on the door to his quarters. He wouldn't have been able to pull the door open and walk inside to Anakin's aid. But he did, because the force was with him.
Anakin sat on the sleeper, a pillow clutched in his hands, pulled tight against his chest. The gray pillowcase was wet, nearly soaked, as were his swollen tear stained eyes. His lips compressed and quivered against another sob that he resisted, pulling an unsteady breath into his lungs.
He didn't dare look at his Master who lingered in the doorway, ever aloof. Obi-wan's heart wanted to hold him, but his self condemnation and hatred wouldn't allow it. The string of Anakin's sorrow pulled even tighter in his chest, causing a pain to sear behind Obi-wan's ribs.
He walked over to sit at the foot of Anakin's sleeper. It was appropriate enough, he thought, as he was determined to stay within his Masterly boundaries. Words, Obi-wan thought. Certainly there were words he was supposed to say, but he couldn't think of the right ones. The ways he wanted to communicate his support to Anakin were not ones he would allow himself to use. Instead he sat silently, a worried crease in his brow as he racked his mind for the right words to say to make Anakin feel better.
"I don't belong here," Anakin croaked into the pillow, a few extra strings of tears falling down his teary flushed face.
"Of course you do." Obi-wan countered reflexively, immediately grimacing at his generalizing, invalidating statement.
"I don't!" Anakin cried out.
You do. You belong here, with me, Obi-wan thought, the words just barely held back by his pursed lips. He struggled to put his thinking in line. Interestingly, he found the light didn't disagree with the thought, even if he couldn't voice it.
"You're having a difficult time adjusting to your new peers?" Obi-wan asked.
Another bloom of anger and shame took form in Anakin's aura, sweeping across their bond as his face twisted against more tears. Obi-wan could feel the gaping wound in his Padawan's chest, tearing at the boy's heart. A slight rush of panic slicked the palms of his hands as he felt the need to tend to the wound with lips and tongue against Anakin's chest, to taste the sorrow that plagued him and cure it with equal amounts of passion and wanting. Instead he sat looking on at the one he was supposed to care for, feeling helplessly lost.
"Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?" Obi-wan asked mildly, earning a vicious glance from Anakin.
Obi-wan held his angry stare with one of gentle understanding. The lock of eyes eroded Anakin's anger down to the hurt that lie beneath. Then something else beneath that, came to present itself in Anakin's gaze. It held a soft yielding quality that made Obi-wan so much more desperate to hold him in his arms.
As if by the use of force, Anakin seemed to bewitch his Master with his powerfully needy stare. Entranced, Obi-wan didn't let his jewel blue eyes out of sight as he crawled to sit beside him, reclining against the headboard. He opened his arms, which Anakin promptly collapsed within, curling up against Obi-wan's side.
Anakin's body shuddered as silent sobs racked his shoulders. Obi-wan held him tighter. Then the boy began to unravel.
Safe in his Master's embrace Anakin began to let out all the heart wrenching sobs that his body had worked so hard to contain within. He discarded the soggy pillow and wrapped his arms tightly around his Master's torso, his hands gripping desperately into his clothes. Obi-wan's heart was strangled by Anakin's anger, the depth of his grief, the weight of his sorrow.
He took Anakin's face gently between his warm, weathered palms. He saw the vulnerability, the anguish in his bloodshot eyes. Obi-wan's heart ached to kiss him. For a moment he thought he could feel the light resonating with his desperation.
Caving, Obi-wan brought Anakin's face closer, feeling his Padawan's labored breath on his lips. With only a moment's hesitation Obi-wan pressed his wanting lips against Anakin's tear slicked cheek, giving the most chaste kiss he was capable of. Then he pressed another kiss to the wrinkles in Anakin's brow. He could feel Anakin's forehead smooth under his lips as he let his body slack into his Master's embrace.
Pulling his lips away Obi-wan hugged Anakin tightly to his chest, resting his chin delicately atop his short cropped hair that tickled and poked him through his beard.
"It's going to get better." Obi-wan said, pursing his lips, tasting the salty tang of Anakin's tears on his tongue. "I promise."