Day Four
This time when Bail woke up, he was alone. Momentary panic seized him as he remembered Obi-Wan's despair from the night before. Had he gone after all? Had he left them alone? Had he found it easier to just slip away into oblivion without saying goodbye?
Hastily throwing on a robe, Bail stumbled out of the bedroom, still not fully awake, still anxious. Voices. He could hear voices, coming from somewhere in the house. Two of them. He took a deep, steadying breath and followed them.
They were in the kitchen, cooking, and for a moment they did not notice him. Leia and Obi-Wan huddled over the stove, Leia standing on a chair pouring a ladle of batter carefully into a skillet.
"You're very good at this," Obi-Wan was commenting.
"It took us years to perfect the recipe," Leia answered sagely. "We tried putting berries in the batter once, but it came out all mushy."
Obi-Wan chuckled softly. "He's always experimenting, isn't he?"
Leia agreed, "They don't always turn out so good."
"I know," Obi-Wan replied, and the two of the dissolved into giggles. Bail didn't think he had ever encountered a more heartwarming scene than this: his daughter and his lover conspiring to make fun of him.
"Sometimes my experiments work," he announced, "and I notice neither of you complain then."
The two of them turned, and Leia leaped off the chair, the ladle dripping batter onto the floor as she ran to her father. "Good morning, Papa!" she greeted him with a one-armed hug. "We're making flatcakes."
"I see that."
"I let Uncle Ben help."
Bail's dark eyes met Obi-Wan's blue ones. "Very generous of you."
Obi-Wan smiled, and the sight took Bail's breath away. It might be an illusion, a mirage of happiness, but Bail was willing to be deceived. Then the Jedi glanced at Leia. "I think some of these cakes are ready to be turned. Do you want me to do it?"
"No, I will!" Leia hastily asserted, scrambling back up on the chair.
Bail seated himself at the kitchen table, more than content to watch the two of them finish preparing breakfast. He could scarcely reconcile this sweet, domestic scene with the darkness he knew weighed Obi-Wan down so heavily. It indeed seemed like a lie, this picture of a contented Obi-Wan, yet he realized it was not. This was exactly what Obi-Wan had been telling him last night: we move on, because no matter how much we might desire it, the truth is we cannot die of a broken heart. It didn't seem right, it wasn't fair, but such was life. He had wanted so much to fix things for Obi-Wan, to fix things for himself, but it could never happen. Obi-Wan would still blame himself, and he would leave, and Bail once more would sleep alone, as he had for the past ten years. Dammit, it wasn't fair at all, but for now at least all three of them were together. They should not poison this moment by resenting what could never be.
At last the cakes were finished and the table hastily set, but before Obi- Wan and Leia could sit down, Bail got to his feet and caught Obi-Wan in a tight embrace. "I love you. You know that, don't you?"
Obi-Wan melted gratefully into the Prince's arms, and for a moment he could not speak. At last he managed to say, "Yes."
Bail pulled back enough to look deeply into Obi-Wan's eyes. "You really know it?" he demanded.
Obi-Wan nodded helplessly. "Yes. I count on it."
Bail pulled Obi-Wan to him once more, kissing him fiercely. After a moment he felt a tug on his robe. "Papa?"
Leia. Anakin had always been jealous whenever Bail and Obi-Wan kissed in front of him. What would Leia think of this display?
"Papa? What about me?" Leia asked as Bail reluctantly broke off the kiss.
"Oh, Leelee, I love you, too."
"No," she protested, holding her arms up to Obi-Wan. "I mean I love Uncle Ben, too."
Obi-Wan laughed and caught her up in his arms. She gave him a wet kiss as she was sandwiched between the two men. They stood laughing, arms around each other, foreheads touching. Yes, there was suffering, there was grief, there might even be guilt. But for now at least, the three of them were together, and in this moment, life was good.
*****
The order of the day, at Leia's insistence, was fishing. She had woken at dawn to dig up a pailful of worms, and as soon as they had finished breakfast, she arranged the expedition with an efficiency that Obi-Wan, as a former General, could greatly appreciate, handing out equipment and assigning everyone a specific spot on the stream.
At first she stayed near Obi-Wan, not entirely certain that he could be trusted to carry out his fishing duties. She insisted on showing him the proper way to bait his hook, how to cast the line and how to fool the fish by remaining hidden among the bushes. Obi-Wan endured the lessons with good humor. After all, it had been a very long time since he had gone fishing, and Leia proved to be quite good at it. She remained with him until he caught his first fish. Convinced that he could now handle his duties, she left him on his own to scout out her own section of river.
But Leia's disappearance prompted the arrival of another visitor. As much as Bail enjoyed fishing, he was not about to spend time sitting alone on a riverbank when he could be with Obi-Wan. He had been keeping close watch on his daughter, and when she left, he appeared at Obi-Wan's side. They curled up together in their patch of bushes, fishing poles anchored into the branches, while they talked quietly, secretly, about a whole host of completely insignificant topics. They were not, however, completely negligent of their fishing responsibility, and by the time Leia returned around noon to check on their progress, they had a few fish to show for themselves, though nowhere near the number Leia had caught.
Frowning her disapproval, Leia rebuked, "Papa, you weren't supposed to be here with Uncle Ben. You would have caught a lot more fish if you'd stayed where I put you."
"I know, dear, but you're such a good fisher that I knew you'd catch enough for all of us, and I didn't want Ben to be lonely."
Somehow Leia didn't feel she could argue with that, however much she might like to. "We can always fish again tomorrow," she reluctantly conceded.
While Obi-Wan struggled not to smile, Bail suggested, "I believe you can handle the fishing yourself, Leelee. Your Uncle Ben and I are getting too old to sit all day on damp riverbanks. Rheumatism, you know."
"What's rheumatism?" Leia asked skeptically.
"Old people's disease."
"You're not old, Papa!" Leia chided with an indignant stamp of her foot.
"Old enough, dearest," he sighed, getting to his feet and making a show of cracking his joints. "Now, why don't you and Uncle Ben clean those fish, while I go back to the house and take care of some business?"
"But we're on vacation!" Leia protested.
"The viceroy can never completely be on vacation," Bail pointed out.
Leia refused to be mollified. "You're just saying that because you hate cleaning fish."
Obi-Wan grinned knowingly at Leia, and Bail cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Be that as it may, I do have work to do, and seeing as how Uncle Ben shares your fascination with gutting things, I don't see why either of you should protest."
"Go on, you wimp," Obi-Wan chided, taking a playful swipe at Bail. "We'll take care of the fish."
With this dubious blessing, Bail took his leave of them. Leia and Obi-Wan gathered up the fish and their equipment and headed to a suitable spot on the stream to clean their catch.
As they settled down to their work, Leia asked, "Where do you live?"
"I really can't tell you," Obi-Wan demurred, hoping she would be satisfied.
Leia had dealt with enough mysterious visitors to know not to pursue questions that should not be answered. "Are there mountains where you live?"
"Yes, but not like these."
"Are there rivers?"
"No, I live in a desert."
This intrigued the girl. "A desert? You mean, where it's really hot and there's lots of sand?"
Obi-Wan laughed. "Lots of heat and lots of sand."
Leia remained silent for a moment while she concentrated on the task of sawing one of the fish's head off with her knife. When she finished, she looked up at Obi-Wan. "Do you have a bondmate?"
Her question surprised him. "No," he stammered.
"Why not?" Brown eyes studied him, almost accusatory.
Obi-Wan was momentarily confused. Didn't she know? "Because I -- I love your father."
"Then why didn't you ever bond with him?"
A fierce wave of anger surged through Obi-Wan, and he wasn't sure what surprised him more: the fact that a ten-year-old could goad such intense feelings from him, or the fact that he felt powerless to control his emotion. "I couldn't bond with him," he protested, biting off the words as he struggled against his resentment, at Leia, at fate.
"If you really loved him," Leia protested, "then you would have bonded with him."
How dare she accuse him? A mere child? "There were circumstances you can't possibly understand," he shot back.
Leia hated being told she was too young to understand. "What circumstances? I think maybe you don't love him at all. I was thinking about it while I was fishing. You didn't say you loved him this morning."
For one wild moment Obi-Wan was reminded of Bail's old rule against saying "I love you" back when someone said it to you first. That wasn't why he hadn't said it, and it infuriated him to think he should answer to a child.
Leia grabbed another fish and sawed away at its head. "Papa is sad because of you. He says you loved somebody else."
What? She might as well have physically struck him. He felt deeply betrayed, not by her but by Bail. How could he possibly still believe that, after all these years? How could Bail still be jealous of Qui-Gon? "No!" Obi-Wan growled, grabbing Leia's arms and shaking her. "I love your father! I always have!" But that wasn't exactly true, was it? He had not loved Bail, not in the beginning. But he had grown to love him, long ago. His love was real, how could anyone doubt it? Obi-Wan was guilty of many, many things, but not loving Bail was not one of them. To be so accused now wounded him to the core of his being, robbing him of the one good, pure thing that was left to him. Hadn't he risked his life to come here, just to see Bail? Why would anyone seek to take this from him?
His hands gripped tighter, and he became aware that Leia was crying. He stared at her in shock. Gone was the accusing woman-child. She was crying, frightened.
Of him.
Obi-Wan released her, horrified and ashamed. Force, what had he become, terrorizing a child, Bail's daughter? "I'm sorry," he whispered, falling backward, away from her. "I'm so sorry." He trembled, shaking so violently he could no longer stand. He sank to his knees, covering his face with his hands.
Leia stood next to him, crying and sniffling, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Why didn't she run away from him? he wondered. How could she stand to be near him? Hopelessly Obi-Wan dissolved into tears, shaken, disturbed, heart-sick, and so, so very weary.
For a long time he wept, vaguely conscious of Leia's presence, aware that he must still be frightening her. After all, children do not like to see adults break down in front of them, but he couldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried. Surely he had cried enough over the past few days, but his grief apparently felt otherwise. Where was his vaunted Jedi self-control? Gone, it seemed, along with the rest of the Jedi. And without the Order, what was he? Just a lonely, broken old man, a wreck of a human being who frightened children.
His weeping gradually eased on its own. That was another thing he had learned over the past decade, that the body can only sustain severe emotion for short periods of time. As he calmed down, he became aware of Leia crouching on the ground next to him, studying him with large, soulful eyes. When she saw him look at her with some degree of consciousness, she said, "I didn't mean to make you cry."
Obi-Wan shook his head, hastily wiping the last of his tears away. "It's all right. You have every right to be protective of your father."
She did not answer, merely tilted her head to one side, staring up at him with anxious curiosity, as if he were some strange new animal she feared might bite.
"I do love your father," Obi-Wan offer gently. "I wish I could have bonded with him. But I'm wanted by the Empire. There is no way I could live here with you, however much I want to."
Leia nodded sadly. Young as she was, she understood the constraints which the Empire placed on many lives. "If you could, you would bond with him?"
"There is nothing I want more," Obi-Wan assured her with a sad smile.
Without warning she flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Startled, Obi-Wan held on to her small body. Such innocent generosity, even he, cynic that he was, could not refuse it. Desperately he whispered, "Do you forgive me?"
"Yes," she replied, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
Her words touched him like a blessing. If this child could forgive him, perhaps he could find absolution after all, for in the end the only way any of them would ever be able to move forward would be to forgive. He closed his eyes, cradling this miracle of love in his arms, Anakin's child, Bail's daughter, and for the first time in years felt his weary soul draw breath.
*****
Having been restored to each other's good favor, they finished their chores, then Obi-Wan sent Leia back to the house with their catch while he went for a walk up the mountain. He wasn't ready to face Bail yet, still shaken by the emotional storm and shamed by the way he had vented his anguish on Leia. Besides, he was disoriented by something he thought he would never feel again.
Grace.
What a humbling, powerful, overwhelming gift.
He climbed up the side of the mountain, following the stream, the old, familiar path like a walk into his past, the trees thick around him, the stream bubbling musically in his ear, the loamy smell of the soft earth released by his footsteps. Up he climbed until he reached a meadow, where the stream spread out into a placid pond, ringed by towering mountains. He seated himself in the tall grass, leaning back on his hands, and allowed the memories to flow over him. He had swum in this pond with Bail. They had sunned themselves on that rock. Here on this very spot they had spread out their clothes and made love beneath the open sky, on the roof of the world.
And over there, nine-year-old Anakin had waded in the shallows, delighting in the silty mud squishing between his toes. Obi-Wan could see him, trousers rolled up above his knees, his feet sinking into the mud. The brilliant sun glinted off his golden hair, his blue eyes wide and sparkling with the joy of a new experience, shirtless, his bare, pale chest warmed in the sun. He futilely pulled up his pants legs as he sank further into the mud. "Where are the fish, Obi-Wan? I want to see them!"
"They're hiding from you," Obi-Wan explained. "You're splashing around too much."
Anakin waded further out into the pond, sinking deeper with each step, now almost up to his waist in the water. He threw a panicked look back at Obi- Wan, not wanting to call out to him, not wanting to admit his alarm at how deep he was sinking.
Laughing, Obi-Wan jumped into the water. He seized Anakin around his thin waist and hoisted him high into the air, the boy's feet pulling out of the mud with a slurp. He spun around with Anakin in his arms until he was dizzy, falling into the pond with a splash. Anakin squealed, clinging to Obi-Wan's neck, unnerved by the water but determined to show how brave he was.
Bail waded out into the pond to join them, and they chased each other, laughing, splashing, diving, churning up the silt until the pond turned black. Then they scampered up onto the flat rock in the middle of the pond, the sun warming them as the water evaporated off their skin.
"Where does the water come from, Master?"
Obi-Wan pointed to the mountains above them. "Those white patches are snow that fell during the winter. As the snow melts, it flows down the mountains in streams."
"This water came from snow?" Anakin asked, fascinated by the concept. When Obi-Wan nodded, Anakin said, "I want to see some snow!"
"You will, Anakin," Obi-Wan assured him. "You will see a great many wonderful things."
The boy's face lit in a smile, a child of the sun, and he snuggled up against Obi-Wan's bare chest, happy and content.
The memory faded, and Obi-Wan returned to the present, staring high up into the sky, arms wrapped around himself. "Oh, Anakin, how I have wronged you above all people. I'm so sorry."
But Anakin could not hear him. Anakin was dead, as surely as Qui-Gon and all the rest of the Jedi, and the time for mourning was long past.
Now another child waited for him -- two children. He had failed their father, but he had been given two more chances to redeem himself. Leia had already forgiven him. It didn't matter that she didn't understand why he needed it. And Luke... Luke was waiting for him on Tatooine, a son of the suns like his father. Even now, at this distance, Obi-Wan could feel the boy pulsing through the Force, perhaps even stronger than his father. Perhaps Qui-Gon had not been so wrong after all. Perhaps it was this boy who was the chosen one. Perhaps he and his sister would yet save them all. Perhaps, just perhaps Obi-Wan could hope for more from the future than mere breathing.
For he had a new reason to keep up the fight, one he should have thought of before, but then, he might not have been ready. When Palpatine and Vader were defeated and the Republic restored, he would truly be free, with no Jedi Order to answer to. He would be free for the first time in his life to choose for himself. He didn't even have to think about what he would do with that freedom.
He was going to choose Bail.
*****
Back at the cabin, Leia sat at the table working a puzzle while Bail continued to pore over his computer, trying to get as much work done as he could during Obi-Wan's absence. It bothered him that Obi-Wan had not returned with Leia. Bail was becoming increasingly aware of how little time they had left together, but he knew he could not impose his own schedule on the Jedi. All he could do was wait. It was not easy, but Obi- Wan was more than worth waiting for, no matter how long it took.
Finally, a couple of hours after Leia had returned, the door opened, and Obi-Wan walked in. Bail looked up at his entrance, utterly unable to keep his emotion off his face. "You're back!" he exclaimed with transparent joy. "I missed you!"
Obi-Wan smiled sweetly as he settled next to Bail on the couch. "I missed you, too."
Exquisite tenderness rolled through Bail with such force it hurt. He wanted to throw himself into Obi-Wan's arms, but he held back, less because of an act of will, then because he was too overcome to move. He had loved Obi-Wan for a long time, and they had been through much together over the years, but somehow in these past few days Bail's soul had become irrevocably bound to Obi-Wan's, as if his heart could not beat without the Jedi's, his lungs could not draw breath unless Obi-Wan did as well. He used to fear commitment, resisting the idea of binding yourself to another person for all time. Family was different, of course. You did not choose your family; they were thrust upon you. In a sense, he had never chosen Leia, either. Family was almost more about resignation than anything else. To voluntarily choose a person on whom to bestow all the privilege and obligation of family, on the other hand, had always struck Bail as folly, a highly questionable and untrustworthy risk. Yet now he realized what a fool he had been. Obi-Wan owned his heart completely, and it didn't matter that Bail could not remember when he had given it away. Perhaps in the end he had not chosen Obi-Wan, either. There was something almost inevitable about the two of them, and not only did Bail not find it frightening, it turned out to be the one thing in the galaxy he could fully trust.
Obi-Wan's eyes flickered briefly to Leia, who sat at her place at the table, watching the two of them intently. Something unspoken passed between them, and then Obi-Wan's attention returned to Bail. "You asked me this morning if I knew that you loved me," he began. "Now I ask the same of you. I have never loved anyone but you, Bail. Once I thought I did, but I had no idea what love really was until I learned it from you." He paused, eyes searching Bail's, dark with the need to resolve this issue between them once and for all. "Do you believe that?"
Bail knew exactly what Obi-Wan meant. Qui-Gon. That jealousy was as much a part of his feelings for Obi-Wan as was love. Indeed, he did not know how to separate the two, yet somehow he now found that his jealousy had vanished. "I do believe it," Bail assured him with total honesty, and he could actually see the effect his words had on Obi-Wan, infusing his haggard face with new life.
The Jedi glanced again at Leia. "Your daughter has promised to restore the Republic. When she does, I'll be able to come live with you."
Bail's breath caught in his chest. "Will you, really?
Obi-Wan only nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
It seemed too good to be true. "But what about --," Bail hesitated, suddenly aware that Leia remained ignorant of her heritage. "You have to train those children," he pointed out.
Obi-Wan shook his head, smiling. "Don't worry. The future Jedi Temple will be on Alderaan."
Oh, it was too good, too good indeed to bear. Happiness melted and spread through Bail like golden fire. "Not Ithor?" he teased.
"Let me put it this way: it will be wherever you are."
Bail laughed in delight. What would the old Council have said about that? he wondered. But he didn't care. This time would be for him and Obi-Wan, and the Force knew well that they had earned it. He folded his arms around Obi-Wan, burying himself in his kiss. There were no barriers between them now, no secrets, no recriminations, no private guilt. Obi-Wan was his Jedi, and he was Obi-Wan's Prince. All was as it should be.
Their kiss deepened, intensified, as Bail pressed against Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wanted to surrender himself completely, for it had been far too long, but something nagged at the edge of his consciousness, something very familiar...and curious. He broke off the kiss, twisting his mouth to Bail's ear before Bail could protest, and whispered softly, "We have an audience."
Bail froze, entirely unwilling to turn away. For the first time in ten years he regretted fatherhood. He pressed a quick kiss to Obi-Wan's lips, then turned his head toward his daughter, who was watching them with rapt attention. Too rapt. How embarrassing. "Leelee," he began, but he got no farther, even if he had known what to say, because Leia took this as her cue to propel herself from her chair and wedge herself into the very narrow space between the two of them, wrapping her arms around their necks. No condemnation or jealousy as there had been with Anakin. It was patently clear that Leia approved with all her heart, even seemed to view herself as having a rightful place in their love. And so she did. Their more physical reunion would just have to wait.
But when at last it came, after a day spent in happy celebration and simple joy, it was all that the phrase "making love" implied. They took their time, discovering the changes that ten years had wrought on each other's bodies, known more intimately than their own. Laughter and silence, ease and abandon, tenderness and passion, urgency and a sense that they had all the time in the world. *Live in the moment.* Such had been Qui-Gon's mantra. This moment was sacred, and it would last for all eternity.
This time when Bail woke up, he was alone. Momentary panic seized him as he remembered Obi-Wan's despair from the night before. Had he gone after all? Had he left them alone? Had he found it easier to just slip away into oblivion without saying goodbye?
Hastily throwing on a robe, Bail stumbled out of the bedroom, still not fully awake, still anxious. Voices. He could hear voices, coming from somewhere in the house. Two of them. He took a deep, steadying breath and followed them.
They were in the kitchen, cooking, and for a moment they did not notice him. Leia and Obi-Wan huddled over the stove, Leia standing on a chair pouring a ladle of batter carefully into a skillet.
"You're very good at this," Obi-Wan was commenting.
"It took us years to perfect the recipe," Leia answered sagely. "We tried putting berries in the batter once, but it came out all mushy."
Obi-Wan chuckled softly. "He's always experimenting, isn't he?"
Leia agreed, "They don't always turn out so good."
"I know," Obi-Wan replied, and the two of the dissolved into giggles. Bail didn't think he had ever encountered a more heartwarming scene than this: his daughter and his lover conspiring to make fun of him.
"Sometimes my experiments work," he announced, "and I notice neither of you complain then."
The two of them turned, and Leia leaped off the chair, the ladle dripping batter onto the floor as she ran to her father. "Good morning, Papa!" she greeted him with a one-armed hug. "We're making flatcakes."
"I see that."
"I let Uncle Ben help."
Bail's dark eyes met Obi-Wan's blue ones. "Very generous of you."
Obi-Wan smiled, and the sight took Bail's breath away. It might be an illusion, a mirage of happiness, but Bail was willing to be deceived. Then the Jedi glanced at Leia. "I think some of these cakes are ready to be turned. Do you want me to do it?"
"No, I will!" Leia hastily asserted, scrambling back up on the chair.
Bail seated himself at the kitchen table, more than content to watch the two of them finish preparing breakfast. He could scarcely reconcile this sweet, domestic scene with the darkness he knew weighed Obi-Wan down so heavily. It indeed seemed like a lie, this picture of a contented Obi-Wan, yet he realized it was not. This was exactly what Obi-Wan had been telling him last night: we move on, because no matter how much we might desire it, the truth is we cannot die of a broken heart. It didn't seem right, it wasn't fair, but such was life. He had wanted so much to fix things for Obi-Wan, to fix things for himself, but it could never happen. Obi-Wan would still blame himself, and he would leave, and Bail once more would sleep alone, as he had for the past ten years. Dammit, it wasn't fair at all, but for now at least all three of them were together. They should not poison this moment by resenting what could never be.
At last the cakes were finished and the table hastily set, but before Obi- Wan and Leia could sit down, Bail got to his feet and caught Obi-Wan in a tight embrace. "I love you. You know that, don't you?"
Obi-Wan melted gratefully into the Prince's arms, and for a moment he could not speak. At last he managed to say, "Yes."
Bail pulled back enough to look deeply into Obi-Wan's eyes. "You really know it?" he demanded.
Obi-Wan nodded helplessly. "Yes. I count on it."
Bail pulled Obi-Wan to him once more, kissing him fiercely. After a moment he felt a tug on his robe. "Papa?"
Leia. Anakin had always been jealous whenever Bail and Obi-Wan kissed in front of him. What would Leia think of this display?
"Papa? What about me?" Leia asked as Bail reluctantly broke off the kiss.
"Oh, Leelee, I love you, too."
"No," she protested, holding her arms up to Obi-Wan. "I mean I love Uncle Ben, too."
Obi-Wan laughed and caught her up in his arms. She gave him a wet kiss as she was sandwiched between the two men. They stood laughing, arms around each other, foreheads touching. Yes, there was suffering, there was grief, there might even be guilt. But for now at least, the three of them were together, and in this moment, life was good.
*****
The order of the day, at Leia's insistence, was fishing. She had woken at dawn to dig up a pailful of worms, and as soon as they had finished breakfast, she arranged the expedition with an efficiency that Obi-Wan, as a former General, could greatly appreciate, handing out equipment and assigning everyone a specific spot on the stream.
At first she stayed near Obi-Wan, not entirely certain that he could be trusted to carry out his fishing duties. She insisted on showing him the proper way to bait his hook, how to cast the line and how to fool the fish by remaining hidden among the bushes. Obi-Wan endured the lessons with good humor. After all, it had been a very long time since he had gone fishing, and Leia proved to be quite good at it. She remained with him until he caught his first fish. Convinced that he could now handle his duties, she left him on his own to scout out her own section of river.
But Leia's disappearance prompted the arrival of another visitor. As much as Bail enjoyed fishing, he was not about to spend time sitting alone on a riverbank when he could be with Obi-Wan. He had been keeping close watch on his daughter, and when she left, he appeared at Obi-Wan's side. They curled up together in their patch of bushes, fishing poles anchored into the branches, while they talked quietly, secretly, about a whole host of completely insignificant topics. They were not, however, completely negligent of their fishing responsibility, and by the time Leia returned around noon to check on their progress, they had a few fish to show for themselves, though nowhere near the number Leia had caught.
Frowning her disapproval, Leia rebuked, "Papa, you weren't supposed to be here with Uncle Ben. You would have caught a lot more fish if you'd stayed where I put you."
"I know, dear, but you're such a good fisher that I knew you'd catch enough for all of us, and I didn't want Ben to be lonely."
Somehow Leia didn't feel she could argue with that, however much she might like to. "We can always fish again tomorrow," she reluctantly conceded.
While Obi-Wan struggled not to smile, Bail suggested, "I believe you can handle the fishing yourself, Leelee. Your Uncle Ben and I are getting too old to sit all day on damp riverbanks. Rheumatism, you know."
"What's rheumatism?" Leia asked skeptically.
"Old people's disease."
"You're not old, Papa!" Leia chided with an indignant stamp of her foot.
"Old enough, dearest," he sighed, getting to his feet and making a show of cracking his joints. "Now, why don't you and Uncle Ben clean those fish, while I go back to the house and take care of some business?"
"But we're on vacation!" Leia protested.
"The viceroy can never completely be on vacation," Bail pointed out.
Leia refused to be mollified. "You're just saying that because you hate cleaning fish."
Obi-Wan grinned knowingly at Leia, and Bail cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Be that as it may, I do have work to do, and seeing as how Uncle Ben shares your fascination with gutting things, I don't see why either of you should protest."
"Go on, you wimp," Obi-Wan chided, taking a playful swipe at Bail. "We'll take care of the fish."
With this dubious blessing, Bail took his leave of them. Leia and Obi-Wan gathered up the fish and their equipment and headed to a suitable spot on the stream to clean their catch.
As they settled down to their work, Leia asked, "Where do you live?"
"I really can't tell you," Obi-Wan demurred, hoping she would be satisfied.
Leia had dealt with enough mysterious visitors to know not to pursue questions that should not be answered. "Are there mountains where you live?"
"Yes, but not like these."
"Are there rivers?"
"No, I live in a desert."
This intrigued the girl. "A desert? You mean, where it's really hot and there's lots of sand?"
Obi-Wan laughed. "Lots of heat and lots of sand."
Leia remained silent for a moment while she concentrated on the task of sawing one of the fish's head off with her knife. When she finished, she looked up at Obi-Wan. "Do you have a bondmate?"
Her question surprised him. "No," he stammered.
"Why not?" Brown eyes studied him, almost accusatory.
Obi-Wan was momentarily confused. Didn't she know? "Because I -- I love your father."
"Then why didn't you ever bond with him?"
A fierce wave of anger surged through Obi-Wan, and he wasn't sure what surprised him more: the fact that a ten-year-old could goad such intense feelings from him, or the fact that he felt powerless to control his emotion. "I couldn't bond with him," he protested, biting off the words as he struggled against his resentment, at Leia, at fate.
"If you really loved him," Leia protested, "then you would have bonded with him."
How dare she accuse him? A mere child? "There were circumstances you can't possibly understand," he shot back.
Leia hated being told she was too young to understand. "What circumstances? I think maybe you don't love him at all. I was thinking about it while I was fishing. You didn't say you loved him this morning."
For one wild moment Obi-Wan was reminded of Bail's old rule against saying "I love you" back when someone said it to you first. That wasn't why he hadn't said it, and it infuriated him to think he should answer to a child.
Leia grabbed another fish and sawed away at its head. "Papa is sad because of you. He says you loved somebody else."
What? She might as well have physically struck him. He felt deeply betrayed, not by her but by Bail. How could he possibly still believe that, after all these years? How could Bail still be jealous of Qui-Gon? "No!" Obi-Wan growled, grabbing Leia's arms and shaking her. "I love your father! I always have!" But that wasn't exactly true, was it? He had not loved Bail, not in the beginning. But he had grown to love him, long ago. His love was real, how could anyone doubt it? Obi-Wan was guilty of many, many things, but not loving Bail was not one of them. To be so accused now wounded him to the core of his being, robbing him of the one good, pure thing that was left to him. Hadn't he risked his life to come here, just to see Bail? Why would anyone seek to take this from him?
His hands gripped tighter, and he became aware that Leia was crying. He stared at her in shock. Gone was the accusing woman-child. She was crying, frightened.
Of him.
Obi-Wan released her, horrified and ashamed. Force, what had he become, terrorizing a child, Bail's daughter? "I'm sorry," he whispered, falling backward, away from her. "I'm so sorry." He trembled, shaking so violently he could no longer stand. He sank to his knees, covering his face with his hands.
Leia stood next to him, crying and sniffling, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Why didn't she run away from him? he wondered. How could she stand to be near him? Hopelessly Obi-Wan dissolved into tears, shaken, disturbed, heart-sick, and so, so very weary.
For a long time he wept, vaguely conscious of Leia's presence, aware that he must still be frightening her. After all, children do not like to see adults break down in front of them, but he couldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried. Surely he had cried enough over the past few days, but his grief apparently felt otherwise. Where was his vaunted Jedi self-control? Gone, it seemed, along with the rest of the Jedi. And without the Order, what was he? Just a lonely, broken old man, a wreck of a human being who frightened children.
His weeping gradually eased on its own. That was another thing he had learned over the past decade, that the body can only sustain severe emotion for short periods of time. As he calmed down, he became aware of Leia crouching on the ground next to him, studying him with large, soulful eyes. When she saw him look at her with some degree of consciousness, she said, "I didn't mean to make you cry."
Obi-Wan shook his head, hastily wiping the last of his tears away. "It's all right. You have every right to be protective of your father."
She did not answer, merely tilted her head to one side, staring up at him with anxious curiosity, as if he were some strange new animal she feared might bite.
"I do love your father," Obi-Wan offer gently. "I wish I could have bonded with him. But I'm wanted by the Empire. There is no way I could live here with you, however much I want to."
Leia nodded sadly. Young as she was, she understood the constraints which the Empire placed on many lives. "If you could, you would bond with him?"
"There is nothing I want more," Obi-Wan assured her with a sad smile.
Without warning she flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Startled, Obi-Wan held on to her small body. Such innocent generosity, even he, cynic that he was, could not refuse it. Desperately he whispered, "Do you forgive me?"
"Yes," she replied, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
Her words touched him like a blessing. If this child could forgive him, perhaps he could find absolution after all, for in the end the only way any of them would ever be able to move forward would be to forgive. He closed his eyes, cradling this miracle of love in his arms, Anakin's child, Bail's daughter, and for the first time in years felt his weary soul draw breath.
*****
Having been restored to each other's good favor, they finished their chores, then Obi-Wan sent Leia back to the house with their catch while he went for a walk up the mountain. He wasn't ready to face Bail yet, still shaken by the emotional storm and shamed by the way he had vented his anguish on Leia. Besides, he was disoriented by something he thought he would never feel again.
Grace.
What a humbling, powerful, overwhelming gift.
He climbed up the side of the mountain, following the stream, the old, familiar path like a walk into his past, the trees thick around him, the stream bubbling musically in his ear, the loamy smell of the soft earth released by his footsteps. Up he climbed until he reached a meadow, where the stream spread out into a placid pond, ringed by towering mountains. He seated himself in the tall grass, leaning back on his hands, and allowed the memories to flow over him. He had swum in this pond with Bail. They had sunned themselves on that rock. Here on this very spot they had spread out their clothes and made love beneath the open sky, on the roof of the world.
And over there, nine-year-old Anakin had waded in the shallows, delighting in the silty mud squishing between his toes. Obi-Wan could see him, trousers rolled up above his knees, his feet sinking into the mud. The brilliant sun glinted off his golden hair, his blue eyes wide and sparkling with the joy of a new experience, shirtless, his bare, pale chest warmed in the sun. He futilely pulled up his pants legs as he sank further into the mud. "Where are the fish, Obi-Wan? I want to see them!"
"They're hiding from you," Obi-Wan explained. "You're splashing around too much."
Anakin waded further out into the pond, sinking deeper with each step, now almost up to his waist in the water. He threw a panicked look back at Obi- Wan, not wanting to call out to him, not wanting to admit his alarm at how deep he was sinking.
Laughing, Obi-Wan jumped into the water. He seized Anakin around his thin waist and hoisted him high into the air, the boy's feet pulling out of the mud with a slurp. He spun around with Anakin in his arms until he was dizzy, falling into the pond with a splash. Anakin squealed, clinging to Obi-Wan's neck, unnerved by the water but determined to show how brave he was.
Bail waded out into the pond to join them, and they chased each other, laughing, splashing, diving, churning up the silt until the pond turned black. Then they scampered up onto the flat rock in the middle of the pond, the sun warming them as the water evaporated off their skin.
"Where does the water come from, Master?"
Obi-Wan pointed to the mountains above them. "Those white patches are snow that fell during the winter. As the snow melts, it flows down the mountains in streams."
"This water came from snow?" Anakin asked, fascinated by the concept. When Obi-Wan nodded, Anakin said, "I want to see some snow!"
"You will, Anakin," Obi-Wan assured him. "You will see a great many wonderful things."
The boy's face lit in a smile, a child of the sun, and he snuggled up against Obi-Wan's bare chest, happy and content.
The memory faded, and Obi-Wan returned to the present, staring high up into the sky, arms wrapped around himself. "Oh, Anakin, how I have wronged you above all people. I'm so sorry."
But Anakin could not hear him. Anakin was dead, as surely as Qui-Gon and all the rest of the Jedi, and the time for mourning was long past.
Now another child waited for him -- two children. He had failed their father, but he had been given two more chances to redeem himself. Leia had already forgiven him. It didn't matter that she didn't understand why he needed it. And Luke... Luke was waiting for him on Tatooine, a son of the suns like his father. Even now, at this distance, Obi-Wan could feel the boy pulsing through the Force, perhaps even stronger than his father. Perhaps Qui-Gon had not been so wrong after all. Perhaps it was this boy who was the chosen one. Perhaps he and his sister would yet save them all. Perhaps, just perhaps Obi-Wan could hope for more from the future than mere breathing.
For he had a new reason to keep up the fight, one he should have thought of before, but then, he might not have been ready. When Palpatine and Vader were defeated and the Republic restored, he would truly be free, with no Jedi Order to answer to. He would be free for the first time in his life to choose for himself. He didn't even have to think about what he would do with that freedom.
He was going to choose Bail.
*****
Back at the cabin, Leia sat at the table working a puzzle while Bail continued to pore over his computer, trying to get as much work done as he could during Obi-Wan's absence. It bothered him that Obi-Wan had not returned with Leia. Bail was becoming increasingly aware of how little time they had left together, but he knew he could not impose his own schedule on the Jedi. All he could do was wait. It was not easy, but Obi- Wan was more than worth waiting for, no matter how long it took.
Finally, a couple of hours after Leia had returned, the door opened, and Obi-Wan walked in. Bail looked up at his entrance, utterly unable to keep his emotion off his face. "You're back!" he exclaimed with transparent joy. "I missed you!"
Obi-Wan smiled sweetly as he settled next to Bail on the couch. "I missed you, too."
Exquisite tenderness rolled through Bail with such force it hurt. He wanted to throw himself into Obi-Wan's arms, but he held back, less because of an act of will, then because he was too overcome to move. He had loved Obi-Wan for a long time, and they had been through much together over the years, but somehow in these past few days Bail's soul had become irrevocably bound to Obi-Wan's, as if his heart could not beat without the Jedi's, his lungs could not draw breath unless Obi-Wan did as well. He used to fear commitment, resisting the idea of binding yourself to another person for all time. Family was different, of course. You did not choose your family; they were thrust upon you. In a sense, he had never chosen Leia, either. Family was almost more about resignation than anything else. To voluntarily choose a person on whom to bestow all the privilege and obligation of family, on the other hand, had always struck Bail as folly, a highly questionable and untrustworthy risk. Yet now he realized what a fool he had been. Obi-Wan owned his heart completely, and it didn't matter that Bail could not remember when he had given it away. Perhaps in the end he had not chosen Obi-Wan, either. There was something almost inevitable about the two of them, and not only did Bail not find it frightening, it turned out to be the one thing in the galaxy he could fully trust.
Obi-Wan's eyes flickered briefly to Leia, who sat at her place at the table, watching the two of them intently. Something unspoken passed between them, and then Obi-Wan's attention returned to Bail. "You asked me this morning if I knew that you loved me," he began. "Now I ask the same of you. I have never loved anyone but you, Bail. Once I thought I did, but I had no idea what love really was until I learned it from you." He paused, eyes searching Bail's, dark with the need to resolve this issue between them once and for all. "Do you believe that?"
Bail knew exactly what Obi-Wan meant. Qui-Gon. That jealousy was as much a part of his feelings for Obi-Wan as was love. Indeed, he did not know how to separate the two, yet somehow he now found that his jealousy had vanished. "I do believe it," Bail assured him with total honesty, and he could actually see the effect his words had on Obi-Wan, infusing his haggard face with new life.
The Jedi glanced again at Leia. "Your daughter has promised to restore the Republic. When she does, I'll be able to come live with you."
Bail's breath caught in his chest. "Will you, really?
Obi-Wan only nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
It seemed too good to be true. "But what about --," Bail hesitated, suddenly aware that Leia remained ignorant of her heritage. "You have to train those children," he pointed out.
Obi-Wan shook his head, smiling. "Don't worry. The future Jedi Temple will be on Alderaan."
Oh, it was too good, too good indeed to bear. Happiness melted and spread through Bail like golden fire. "Not Ithor?" he teased.
"Let me put it this way: it will be wherever you are."
Bail laughed in delight. What would the old Council have said about that? he wondered. But he didn't care. This time would be for him and Obi-Wan, and the Force knew well that they had earned it. He folded his arms around Obi-Wan, burying himself in his kiss. There were no barriers between them now, no secrets, no recriminations, no private guilt. Obi-Wan was his Jedi, and he was Obi-Wan's Prince. All was as it should be.
Their kiss deepened, intensified, as Bail pressed against Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wanted to surrender himself completely, for it had been far too long, but something nagged at the edge of his consciousness, something very familiar...and curious. He broke off the kiss, twisting his mouth to Bail's ear before Bail could protest, and whispered softly, "We have an audience."
Bail froze, entirely unwilling to turn away. For the first time in ten years he regretted fatherhood. He pressed a quick kiss to Obi-Wan's lips, then turned his head toward his daughter, who was watching them with rapt attention. Too rapt. How embarrassing. "Leelee," he began, but he got no farther, even if he had known what to say, because Leia took this as her cue to propel herself from her chair and wedge herself into the very narrow space between the two of them, wrapping her arms around their necks. No condemnation or jealousy as there had been with Anakin. It was patently clear that Leia approved with all her heart, even seemed to view herself as having a rightful place in their love. And so she did. Their more physical reunion would just have to wait.
But when at last it came, after a day spent in happy celebration and simple joy, it was all that the phrase "making love" implied. They took their time, discovering the changes that ten years had wrought on each other's bodies, known more intimately than their own. Laughter and silence, ease and abandon, tenderness and passion, urgency and a sense that they had all the time in the world. *Live in the moment.* Such had been Qui-Gon's mantra. This moment was sacred, and it would last for all eternity.