Any arguing on the subject of Anakin and Luke had ceased upon their return. Anakin had walked in, holding Luke in his arms. Luke's small arms were wrapped around Anakin's neck, the blonde head resting on his father's shoulder as Anakin carried him back into the home. The boy weighed nothing to him and he held him close, refusing to let go. Luke's barely open eyes gazed around at the people in the room, but he made no move to remove himself from his father's grip. Even when his aunt came to check his head, Luke forced Anakin to stay with him, remaining perched on his father's lap as his aunt made sure there was no blood from the bump.
Owen had stayed silent, simply watching the two with a glimmer of anger in his eyes. Anger that Anakin had so quickly come and so quickly undermined everything Owen had said to Luke about his son. The boy would look at his uncle, but only holding tighter to his father at the time. His uncle had lied to him, told him his father was dead when he was here – holding onto him with a grip as tight and real as Luke himself. And Luke stayed there the rest of the evening, finally falling to sleep in the comfort of his father's grip with his head nestled into the crook of his neck and Anakin's hand rubbing circles comfortingly along his back. The child seemed lost, unsure of what to believe anymore now that his whole entire world had been spun upside down.
Obi Wan watched from a corner of the room, a faint smile resting on his lips as he saw Anakin's behavior with his son. He'd never seen the former Jedi so gentle with another soul. He seemed so careful when dealing with Luke – the careful brush of a hair back, the hand grazing over the soft, young skin of the child's cheek. Anakin was happy, he could feel it across the room if it wasn't obvious by the way he was smiling as he gazed down at the child. Owen, though, was another story. It was obvious that the man wasn't happy and by the glare that rested on Anakin, it didn't seem as though he'd have a change of heart any time soon. It was Owen's wife that caught Obi Wan off guard. She seemed happy as she watched the reunited father and son and kept a hand comfortingly on her husband's arm.
"You should put him to bed," Obi Wan finally interrupted as he looked at the sleeping boy in his father's arm.
Anakin looked up at that, slowly nodding his head and standing carefully. He looked at Owen, seeing the glare but not allowing it to faze him. He would not waste his time with arguments and anger on a day of such joy. A day where his son had been returned to him. Making his way out of the main room, he went to put the boy to bed and Owen looked at Obi Wan, now willing to talk with the two leaving the room.
"What now, Ben?" he questioned angrily. "Is he supposed to stay here with us?"
Obi Wan took a deep breath, unsure of what the circumstances would be now. "I'm not sure what Anakin's intentions are, Owen, but I highly doubt he's going to impose on you." He paused a moment, and then continued. "But I also don't think he's going to leave without Luke."
Owen's blood was boiling at that, the only restraint he had was his wife's tightened grip on him. The man wasn't happy. Nine years he'd spent raising that boy, teaching him good from bad and how to be a hard worker, and now he might be running off with his father on some silly crusade? Who would be there to pick up the pieces and take care of Luke when Anakin messed up? Something Owen was sure would happen.
"He cannot take the child, he has grown up here, he's used to it," Owen declared, his voice cold as ice.
"Did it seem to you like Luke would give him any other option?" Obi Wan replied calmly. "He seems as attached to Anakin as he is to the boy. Somehow, I doubt separation is an option."
"What now, then?" Owen questioned without missing a beat. "Do we let him take Luke, run off after some stupid idea? Does he think he can take care of a child? This child needs a home, and parents, not some stupid boy who lives to follow some nonexistent idea that's supposed to protect him. Will the force help him provide for Luke? What is he going to do, anyway?"
"Find Leia," a voice replied from the doorway.
Three pairs of eyes spun to look at the man standing there, without the child in his arms. Anakin had been standing there, listening to them. What was he going to do? Although Owen was right, he knew that he had one more task to do before figuring out what to do with the two children that he had. He had to have both before he could decide. He needed to see his daughter, he wanted to find his daughter. To see his baby girl. The three gazes resting on him seemed shock to find out this piece of information and their gazes briefly broke from Anakin to look at one another.
"Very well," Obi Wan finally spoke, giving a nod. He knew it would be pointless to argue with Anakin. "But we should leave Luke-."
Obi Wan was cut off by Anakin's firm voice. "Luke is coming with us."
Owen opened his mouth to protest, but Anakin had already turned and disappeared, retiring to his son's room where he would take a seat by the bed and watch the sleeping child, his little angel. The miracle it'd taken for him to realize what a mess he was and how desperately that needed to change.
Anakin sat in the dark room, gazing upon the sleeping child in the bed. He'd been sitting there for an hour or so, gazing upon the small body. He hadn't left, he couldn't bring himself to and most importantly, he didn't want to. As he brought his hand up and trailed his fingers through the small boy's hair, he couldn't help but smile. The boy stirred and Anakin stopped; his hand slowly moving away to avoid waking the sleeping child. As he once again leaned back into his chair, he let his mind go off in thoughts of his daughter.
He wasn't sure how the scene would play out – when he and a small child arrived at the home of Senator Organa. Would he be received with hospitality or hostility? His bet was more on the later than the former. Maybe he should try and convince Obi Wan to come with – a face that Organa would know and trust. The only problem was if he could convince his former master to come with him, or if he even had the right to ask for his help once more.
Leaning over, his elbows propped against his knees and he held his head with a gloved hand. A hand that held memories of a time where he fought for peace, side by side with Obi Wan. He knew that the former Jedi master was wavering on the idea of Anakin as a person. Anakin didn't hold it against him – he too would be suspicious of a person in his position. However, that didn't change anything at this point in his life, nor did it change his desired plan of action. Whether Obi Wan was content with him or not, he had no second thoughts about wanting and needing him to join him on his quest to become reunited with his daughter.
Anakin was allowed to stay with Luke, undisturbed, for the rest of the night. He spent a majority of his time simply gazing upon the sleeping child with the faintest lingering of a smile on his lips.
Obi Wan stood in the doorway of the darkened room, leaning against the frame with his arms folded over his chest. His silhouette was shown in the dim ray of light that shone in the entrance of the room and slowly faded into complete darkness. Anakin's form was visible to him, a figure in a chair, blocking most of the young boy's body from his view. He'd been standing there for a few minutes after he'd thanked Owen and his wife for allowing them to stay the night – but it seemed obvious that they did not have a choice regarding Anakin. The room he was assigned was beside this one and he'd been on the way there when he'd spotted the figure in the dark room he'd assumed was Luke's.
It was hard for him to figure out what was going on in the young man's head – but he felt a series of emotions. Happiness dominated it most. There were lingering traces of hesitance and uncertainty, but Obi Wan did not know the cause. He was sure he'd find out, though. Uncertainty was not easy to hide. Tomorrow, he would question Anakin. He knew that the man would not be happy towards it, but his years with Anakin had him sure that he would understand that the mild interrogation would be for the best interest of everyone involved, especially Luke. Anakin would not deny anything that had to do with the well being of his son – that was obvious enough.
One hand rose and stroked the trademark beard that adorned his face. It was an action that usually signified the act of thought – which was something he'd be doing for the rest of the night.