I would have liked to thank each and every person who reviewed this fic the last time around here, but alas I'm on a time crunch to get to class for a French test (ick). And after that I'm on vacation! So there's not enough time. But you know who you are, and you know that I love you for reviewing!
TM-- again, this chapter would have been crap without your help, crossed wires and all! Thank you!
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V – Anakin is 20 years old.
"Where is he?" Anakin repeated to himself again, pacing around the common room of the apartments he shared with Obi-Wan, and shooting frequent glares at the door as though it was somehow to blame for his Master's absence. It was the night of the Solstice, and Obi-Wan was very late in returning home.
Anakin bit his lip, right hand rising to try to tug on his Padawan braid, only to be met with empty air. He was no longer an apprentice after all, but a full Knight. He would remind himself sternly of that fact every few minutes, trying to shock himself into some semblance of calm, forcing himself to sit still on the couch.
Breathe. Just breathe. He'll be back soon. Don't panic. There is no passion, there is only serenity…he growled in frustration, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers as the familiar words failed to soothe him at all.
It was no use; after a couple of tense moments, he would find himself pacing once again, hand grasping in vain for a braid that was no longer there. Windu had already run off to hide in Obi-Wan's bedroom, yowling his displeasure with an irritated flick of his black-furred tail. Anakin paused in the centre of the small common room, glancing back towards his Master's bedroom. The damn animal was probably hiding under Obi-Wan's bed again. He and Anakin didn't exactly get along.
Stupid cat.
Anakin growled low in his throat as he caught himself reaching for his Padawan braid once again. Force, he could still feel it, would keep turning his head sharply to try to catch a glimpse of the elusive plait. It seemed almost ominous, that he couldn't adapt to its absence.
It had been a bad idea to go through with the Knighting Ceremony right away; Anakin realized that now. But upon his return from Praesitlyn, Master Yoda had surprised Anakin by offering to perform the ceremony. Flushed with the exuberance of victory and still on an adrenaline high from what had been a hard-fought battle, Anakin had agreed readily.
No matter that Obi-Wan was off on the other side of the galaxy, no matter that Anakin should have been able to wait for the one person in his life who truly mattered. He hadn't gone to Praesitlyn expecting to be Knighted upon his return: it was an unexpected, euphoric moment. A moment where, in a flash, he had a vision of himself, welcoming Obi-Wan home as a full Knight. As an equal… as something more than the little boy who had been thrust unceremoniously into the Jedi Knight's care eight years ago.
As someone of whom Obi-Wan could be truly proud.
He had thought that it wouldn't matter if Obi-Wan wasn't there for the ceremony. He hadn't known how much the ceremony would mean, how much of a change it would make in his life.
He hadn't thought it would matter.
But it had. And Anakin hadn't realized it until it was too late, until he was kneeling with tears in his eyes as the Jedi Grandmasters saluted him solemnly. Even as they honoured him for his achievements, for his service to the Jedi Order, all Anakin had been able to think of was what was missing. On what was supposed to be the best day of his life to that point, the only thing he could think about was who was missing. Even as the Force sang through his soul, his heart and mind were questing along his training bond, seeking out his Master's presence.
Because it had mattered that Obi-Wan hadn't been present to mark his Padawan's official ascent into Knighthood. It had mattered that Yoda had been the one to sever Anakin's braid rather than his proper Master. Too late had Anakin realised that he wanted that affirmation; needed it. To see the smile, if not on his Master's lips, then in his eyes. Eyes that would shine as blue and intense as the beam of his sabre. Shining with pride for Anakin.
It had made a difference.
Only after that long plait of hair had been handed reverently back to him did Anakin realize that it might make a difference to Obi-Wan as well.
Mace Windu had always taken care to point out that Anakin was a thoughtless fool, incapable of being sensitive to the needs of those around him. Leaving the Council Chambers behind for the first time as a full Knight in the Order, Anakin had finally accepted that Master Windu was right.
Properly ashamed of his own impatience, Anakin had asked Yoda not to inform Obi-Wan of his Knighting; it was something that he wanted to tell his Master himself.
He still wasn't sure how Obi-Wan would react.
"Where is he?" Anakin sighed aloud, gripping the back of the couch tightly to stop his hands from trembling, slowly leaning forward until his forehead rested on the back of his palms. Haja, he was shaking like mad. Obi-Wan was punctual to a fault, he always had been. It was something that drove Anakin crazy, just as Obi-Wan was constantly irritated by his apprentice's lackadaisical attitude towards deadlines and arranged meeting times. For Obi-Wan to be late was worrisome.
For him to be late today was frankly terrifying.
He had only been late coming home on the Solstice Eve once that Anakin could remember… and that had been the night that he had become Anakin's Master. The night Anakin had found out that Qui-Gon was dead.
"Fucking Sith hell," Anakin cursed under his breath, digging his fingers tighter into the fabric of the cushions, feeling a faint prickle of tears in his eyes. He was twenty standard years old, for stars' sake, far too old to be acting like a superstitious youngling. He was a Knight now, not a green Padawan.
Yes, he was a Knight now.
Hence the other reason for his nervousness. This was their night, the one evening where they were just Anakin and Obi-Wan, not Padawan Skywalker and Master Kenobi. Whatever they were doing, wherever they were, Anakin always spent this day with his Master. Much as it scared him that Obi-Wan was delayed in arriving back at the Temple, he was far more concerned about what would happen after Obi-Wan got back.
More appropriately, after Anakin finally told Obi-Wan what he had been hiding for the past four years.
I love you.
Obi-Wan would understand the significance; after all, it had been on the Solstice that his Master had finally told Qui-Gon how he felt. If nothing else, telling Obi-Wan on this night of all nights would convince the Jedi Master of Anakin's sincerity. That was why Anakin had waited for his Knighthood; he didn't want Obi-Wan to dismiss him out of hand, as a star-struck Padawan with a childish infatuation. He wasn't a youngling anymore, even if Obi-Wan was the last person in the galaxy who would be willing to see it.
Anakin had spent the day preparing for being rejected. As they were friends, Obi-Wan would let him down gently, but Anakin had still tried to harden his heart to be ready for the blow. Anakin dreaded seeing amusement – or worse, compassion – in those bewitching eyes, but he couldn't pretend any longer. He had to know.
Even though he already knew the answer.
Obi-Wan loved Qui-Gon. He still loved Qui-Gon. Anakin saw it every single day, had seen it every single day for the past eight years, enough to know that he would never ever be able to win, no matter how long Qui-Gon had been dead.
He hated that sometimes, resented Qui-Gon for leaving him in this position. If the Jedi Master had lived, then he and Obi-Wan would still be together and in love. Anakin would have been Qui-Gon's Padawan, and he would never have fallen in love with Obi-Wan. His life would have been so much easier.
So much emptier….
Anakin blinked sharply, straightening up to push one hand through his bristly Padawan hair. Gazing listlessly around the empty apartment, his eyes fell on the end table, the new home of Anakin's holograph of himself with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. Striding over, Anakin slammed the small picture face-down on the wooden surface. He didn't need the older Jedi watching him. Not tonight.
Obi-Wan had always been the epitome of devotion, both to his former Master and love as well as to his Padawan. He hadn't been celibate for the past eight years, but Anakin was old enough now to understand the difference between love and sex. Enough to know that he was caught in an uncertain middle ground – Obi-Wan cared too much about Anakin to allow them even a purely physical relationship, but he would never truly love Anakin.
But a seed of hope was still trying to sprout in his heart, growing a little stronger, a little bolder, with each fond smile that Obi-Wan sent his way, with each companionable pat on the arm. The way that the holograph that Anakin had given his Master so many years ago was relegated to Obi-Wan's dresser now, rather than underneath his pillow. The way that the Solstice had become their holiday, rather than a morose echo of the past. The way he would sometimes catch Obi-Wan looking at him in an unguarded moment. Pure fantasy of course, but hope would thrive on the smallest, most paltry scraps of chance.
The only way to smother those hopes completely would be to be told 'I don't feel the same way' point blank.
Anakin had spent the morning readying himself for that, had spent the afternoon packing up his meagre assortment of belongings so that he could leave immediately afterwards without an awkward scene between them. Now that he was a Knight, he was permitted to do that. He could leave, could break up the team of Kenobi and Skywalker, the Negotiator and the Hero with No Fear.
And then the only reminder he would have would be the tattooed initials low on his hip. Anakin pressed his hand absently against the spot, swallowing heavily as he closed his eyes.
He could leave Obi-Wan behind. Something that he was scared shitless about doing. Obi-Wan was the reason he was a Jedi, the only reason that Anakin had ever survived to see his Knighting. He didn't want to leave.
He knew he might not have a choice.
Anakin had spent the evening pacing, driving himself crazy with worry, rehearsing what he wanted to say, and waiting anxiously for Obi-Wan to arrive.
As if on cue, there was a flicker in Anakin's mind, a comforting warmth that suffused his entire body. Obi-Wan was back in the Temple.
Anakin instantly felt his heart rate speed up frantically, pounding as though it would leap right out of his chest. Immediately, he tried to school his mind away from his overbearing anxiety, hoping that Obi-Wan wouldn't sense his thoughts before he had the chance to voice them. Feeling the presence of his Master approaching their rooms, Anakin straightened up, tugging at his robes to erase non-existent wrinkles: anything to occupy his mind and his hands.
He glanced up sharply as the door hissed open and Obi-Wan strode wearily into the room. Anakin's heart skipped a beat at the sight, his breath hitching in his throat.
Obi-Wan's robes were mud-spattered and torn, lightsabre dangling loosely from one hand. His shoulder-length hair was carelessly tied back, with efficiency in mind, rather than neatness. Stray pieces of hair had pulled out of the improvised queue to fall into his eyes, which were tired and crinkled with lines at the corners.
But he was smiling, and that was enough to make all of Anakin's carefully rehearsed words fall out of his head.
"Sorry I'm late, Anakin. I hope I didn't scare you too much" he chuckled, the sound melting Anakin's heart. "Of course, given the state I'm in, I wouldn't be surprised if I caused the younglings to have nightmares tonight."
Anakin nodded soundlessly, not trusting his voice to speak. Fucking Sith, but he forgot every time, forgot just how powerful Obi-Wan's effect on him was. They had only been separated for two weeks, but Anakin had somehow forgotten how bewitching that smile could be, how compelling that voice was. The picture of Obi-Wan that he held reverently in his mind couldn't hold a flicker in the Force to the reality of his Master's presence. Anakin's body instantly ached to be held in those arms, to be embraced and loved and desired….
But Anakin forced a smile as Obi-Wan looked at him quizzically, even though he wanted to do nothing more than run and hide in his room. Run and hide himself away, before he threw himself at his Master and devoured those lips hungrily….
Anakin gave himself a mental shake, finally finding his voice, pitching it to sound lightly mocking. "I would tell you that you need a trip to the 'fresher, Master, but I don't think that it's equipped to deal with a Jedi whose mission was to bring home all the mud off one planet." He leaned indolently against the back of the couch, grinning impudently at his Master, who glared in response.
"Quiet, Padawan, or you'll taste some of this mud," Obi-Wan growled, tugging at his boots.
Anakin's hand instantly rose to the space where his braid had been. Obi-Wan hadn't noticed it yet. Or maybe he had, but hadn't said anything?
Of course – and Anakin wasn't even supposed to know about them – Obi-Wan wasn't wearing his glasses. And it was dark in the room, so that could be the….
Anakin dashed across the room to his Master's side, even as Obi-Wan sagged against the kitchen counter. The Jedi Knight hadn't made a sound, but Anakin had felt the sudden intense flare of pain over their bond. Gently sliding one arm around Obi-Wan's waist, helping his Master stand, Anakin bit his lower lip in anxiety and worried anger.
"It's your back again, isn't it?" Anakin said accusingly, carefully aiding Obi-Wan to one of the straight-backed chairs at their small table. "Stars' end, Master, didn't you take care of yourself at all on this mission?" He wanted to give Obi-Wan a good shake, knowing that the Jedi Knight constantly put everything else in a mission ahead of his own health. Anakin knelt next to the hard-backed chair quickly; resting his hands on Obi-Wan's knees as he stared up at his Master's face, concerned as he studied his Master's pained expression.
"It was a rather trying mission, Padawan… I'll be all right." Obi-Wan sounded calm, but there was an undercurrent of confusion. Anakin knew it was a result of his sudden flare of frustration, and bent his head, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment.
He wasn't mad at Obi-Wan; not really. Anakin was mad at himself, for not having been with Obi-Wan to ensure the Jedi took care of himself, for being the cause if the injury in the first place. As Obi-Wan's Padawan, Anakin had always made it his job to keep one eye on his Master, to look after him whenever possible.
He had only failed once, and failed miserably. Once was enough.
Anakin smiled quietly, raising his head again to meet his Master's eyes. But Obi-Wan's expression was no longer amused. There was an expression of deep hurt in his Master's eyes, a flash of pained surprise. It was gone in a second, but Anakin felt his stomach lurch painfully as his Master's shields suddenly went up to block Anakin from feeling the Jedi Knight's emotions.
Fierfek! In his momentary panic over an old wound, Anakin had completely forgotten about his missing braid, the fact that he was now a Knight. Of course Obi-Wan had noticed it, how could he fail to, at such close proximity? His Master's smile was back, but it was more forced than before. Anakin could see it in the tightness at the corners of Obi-Wan's mouth, the slight furrow on his brow, and in the way that Obi-Wan didn't quite meet Anakin's eyes when talking.
Anakin felt his heart constrict painfully as Obi-Wan smiled in false cheer. He didn't want to be shut out like this. He needed to tell Obi-Wan now, before this went any further.
Starting to speak, Anakin was cut off by Obi-Wan rising stiffly from his chair. "It's nothing, Anakin," he said softly, and Anakin winced, noting the deliberate use of his first name, rather than the affectionate title of Padawan. "A trip to the 'fresher will loosen it up again, and get rid of this Sith-cursed mud…."
Anakin didn't hear anything else that his Master might have said, staring intently at his hands, clenched in his lap. The image swam before his eyes as tears pricked at his lashes. He had screwed up, and he had hurt his Master once again. Anakin could see it in the Jedi Knight's eyes. Despite the fact that Obi-Wan was famed as The Negotiator, with his perfectly composed 'sabaac-face' that gave nothing away, his emotions were easily read by Anakin, the one who knew him best.
He showed too much in his eyes.
And those eyes, catching the light from the fresher room as he turned away, had been a pained silvery-grey.
Anakin staggered to his feet and stumbled over to collapse on the couch, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. It wasn't supposed to go like this. He had been practicing all day to make sure that he wouldn't be hurt by Obi-Wan; so much so that he had completely forgotten that Obi-Wan might be the one to get hurt. What Master wouldn't be wounded by the fact that his Padawan had not wanted him present at his Knighting? And Obi-Wan wasn't just any Master, and Anakin not just any apprentice. They were close, far closer than any other team in the Temple; closer than many of the families that they had met on their missions. Even if they could never have the same level of emotional and physical intimacy as Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had possessed, Obi-Wan was still everything to Anakin.
Sometimes he dared to hope that the reverse might be true as well. All ruined now, because of Anakin's impulsiveness.
Listening to the muffled sound of water falling in the 'fresher, Anakin debated getting up, grabbing his kitbag, and leaving. His apartments were already waiting for him; he could walk out the door right now and never have to return. He didn't think he could face that hurt look in Obi-Wan's eyes again. He knew he wouldn't be able to get through the conversation to come, not with Obi-Wan already wounded. His Master had a tendency to retreat into icy formality when injured. Anakin couldn't face that, not here, not now, not tonight.
Not without his heart breaking.
Only the notion that he owed Obi-Wan an explanation, if nothing else, kept him glued to the spot. Reaching out one hand blindly, Anakin called on the Force to bring him a small wrapped package from where it lay underneath the tree. Turning it over and over in his hands, Anakin took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, to prepare for the conversation to come.
He needed to prepare himself, as carefully as he would for any battle. Talking to Obi-Wan sometimes felt like a war; a conflict in Anakin's mind to maintain his side of the discussion while still keeping his body in line. It didn't help that Obi-Wan was depressingly well-versed on Force-knew how many topics… nothing that Anakin could fake knowing about when concentrating on…other matters.
Stars' end, how many times had they been on missions together where he and Obi-Wan would end up hiding from their pursuers, crammed together in some tight, dark hole pressed chest to chest, groin to groin? It was torture, sweet, agonizing torture; Obi-Wan's forehead leaning against Anakin's shoulder, his arms strong around Anakin's back as both of them struggled not to make a single sound. Obi-Wan's hair would tickle Anakin's nose slightly, his breath warm on Anakin's neck, twined as close as lovers. And Anakin would close his eyes tightly, hardly daring to breathe, pretending for a moment that they could always be that close, that intimate.
Perfect agony.
Anakin had been obliged to become very good at calling… discouraging images to mind. Naked Mace Windu or naked Yoda seemed to always work at calming his raging libido.
It didn't always work when, sleeping in their shared tent on the battlefield, Obi-Wan would twist in his sleep and snuggle up against Anakin, groin pressed against Anakin's ass. Then Anakin had to use… other ways… of dispelling his tension, trying to be as silent as possible as he touched himself, seeing Obi-Wan's face in his mind, feeling Obi-Wan pushed tightly against him….
Then Obi-Wan would murmur Qui-Gon's name in his sleep, and Anakin would feel hot shame painting his cheeks, even as he came against his hand. He hated that, being forcibly reminded that he would never measure up to Qui-Gon. He had loved Obi-Wan since he had been 15 years old, while his Master was still pining for a man – a ghost – who had been gone for eight years. How could he ever hope to measure up to a man who was practically a legend among the Jedi, a martyr who cold do no wrong in his Master's eyes?
Sometimes Anakin wished he had never left Tatooine….
Anakin looked up as the water stopped, clenching his hand around the small package as the door hissed open. Light from the fresher room illuminated Obi-Wan from behind, glistening over his still-damp hair, outlining the contours of every muscle and the loose folds of the sleep pants that fell low on Obi-Wan's hips.
Obi-Wan's face was in shadow from the harsh back-light, but Anakin could feel the muted sadness from the older man. He knew that if he could see Obi-Wan's face, his Master's eyes would still be grey.
"I am apparently remiss in offering you my congratulations," Obi-Wan's voice, smooth and lilting, cut through Anakin's thoughts. "I suppose I should accustom myself to calling you Master Skywalker now."
Anakin tried not to flinch at the cool formality in Obi-Wan's tone, forcing himself to stand on trembling legs. This was it.
"I wanted to surprise you," Anakin whispered quietly, his forced smile wavering slightly as he mutely offered the box to Obi-Wan. Don't shut me out, please, Master. Don't retreat into polite distance. Anakin tried to touch Obi-Wan's mind through their bond and gasped softly when he met no resistance… met nothing. He didn't hit Obi-Wan's shields, because the shields were no longer there.
The bond was no longer there.
Obi-Wan had dissolved it. It was a Master's right of course, a tradition when a Padawan graduated into Knighthood, but Anakin had never even considered the possibility that he would lose that precious connection. He kept probing at the empty spot in his mind. He expected it to hurt. It should have hurt…not this odd numb feeling.
"Well, it's hardly a surprise that the best Jedi in the Order should be elevated to the status of Knight in my absence, is it?" Obi-Wan said blithely, avoiding meeting Anakin's eyes as he over to the liquor cabinet. He didn't even spare a glance for the carefully wrapped package, his movements tight and precise. Anakin caught his breath at the barely-concealed pain in those words, the silent accusation behind that innocuous phrase 'in my absence'.
"Master-" Anakin whispered, pleading, taking one step forward. He wanted to bridge this sudden chasm between them, to make amends before it was too late. But Obi-Wan cut him off, pouring two glasses of brandy and forcing one into Anakin's hand.
"To your promotion, Master Skywalker." Obi-Wan raised his glass in an almost mocking salute, downing the contents in one swallow. Anakin noted the way his Master's hand clenched around the glass, so tight that his knuckles were almost white. Anakin's free hand was similarly clenched, fisting into the dark robes at his side.
Anakin set his glass aside, trying to smile as he looked back at Obi-Wan. "Please, Master… call me Anakin."
Obi-Wan could no longer even force the illusion of joviality, eyes haunted as he finally turned to look at Anakin. "I would hardly presume," he demurred quietly, pressing his lips together tightly.
"Oh for the love of…" Anakin picked up his glass, draining the liquor in one swallow, feeling the burst of heat at the base of his skull. Marching over to Obi-Wan, he snatched the empty liquor glass away in a burst of anger, slamming it down onto the cabinet behind Obi-Wan. Their eyes locked, and Anakin felt a thrill race down his spine as he pressed the small package into his Master's hand. They stood close enough to touch, close enough for Anakin to see Obi-Wan's chest rise and fall with every breath.
He suddenly realized how much smaller Obi-Wan had gotten over the years. Anakin had never before realized that he was the taller of the two of them.
"Open it," Anakin insisted, voice tinged with desperation as Obi-Wan stared silently at him. Anakin was shaking slightly, he could feel the sweat on the palms of his hands, and resisted the urge to rub them against his robe. He suddenly regretted doing this; he should have left before Obi-Wan came home. As a Jedi, Anakin knew he should have learned when it was wise to cut his losses and retreat. He should have made a clean break from Obi-Wan. Then there wouldn't be this damnable tension between them, so tightly wound that Anakin could feel it thrumming in the air.
Carefully sliding away from being pinned against the cabinet, Obi-Wan moved to sit on one arm of the couch. Anakin leaned back against the wooden sideboard, biting his lip as he followed Obi-Wan's movements with his eyes. He saw how his Master hesitated upon peeling back the wrapping paper, seeing the muted shine of an elegant wooden box, how those long, elegant fingers lingered over the burnished bronze clasp. He looked up in mute question, meeting Anakin's eyes. When Anakin nodded imperceptibly, Obi-Wan gently opened the lid.
Anakin rose smoothly from his position, coming to stand silently behind his Master as Obi-Wan stared at what was inside the box.
Anakin's Padawan braid was nestled lightly on a bed of black velvet, glowing softly gold in the candlelight of the room. Anakin saw the way Obi-Wan tensed, how his hands tightened on the arm of the couch, digging into the worn fabric.
"Did you think I didn't want you to be there?" Anakin whispered sadly, gripping Obi-Wan's shoulder tightly with one hand. "I-I'm sorry, Obi-Wan, I knew it was a mistake as soon as I walked into the Council Chambers."
"Then why did you do it?"
Anakin wanted to cry, hearing the hurt and anger in Obi-Wan's voice, seeing his Master's shoulders tremble. He suddenly felt so helpless, tongue-tied and at a loss to explain what had felt like the right decision at the time.
"I-I… I just wanted you to be proud of me, to see… to see how well I could do on my own." It sounded so stupid now, so ridiculously banal and immature. Because he couldn't express the full reason, the longing he had felt to be respected by Obi-Wan the way that the Jedi Knight had respected Qui-Gon… a foolish, naïve hope that being a Knight would somehow change the dynamic of their relationship enough for Obi-Wan to finally fall in love with him.
"I'm only a Jedi because of you…" Anakin whispered finally, holding his body rigid, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan, to comfort his Master in some way. "You… you were the only one I wanted to be there. I'm sorry." He laughed softly, desperately, taking a deep shuddering breath. He wanted to press his face against the back of his Master's neck, to kiss the soft skin and breathe in Obi-Wan's scent. To hide from all the stupid decisions he had made and be nothing more than a love-struck Padawan once more.
But he forced himself to move back a step before his body betrayed him, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
Obi-Wan stroked one finger along the braid reverently, his voice quiet and severe as he spoke.
"Why are you giving this to me?"
Anakin laughed harshly, scrubbing one hand over his eyes. "Do you even have to ask?" Padawans guarded their braid closely as a mark of their rite of passage. The braid was as important as their lightsabre, and as much a symbol of their status. It was only given away when the Jedi found someone more worthy of guarding it – it was entrusting part of their identity, part of their soul, to another. It represented years of work, of dedication, of service… of commitment, which was as close as most Jedi ever got to love.Anakin could think of no other to whom he would want to entrust his braid. He didn't even want to look – he already knew that a person he loved more than Obi-Wan Kenobi simply did not exist. And Obi-Wan would know that, and would understand what Anakin was trying to say without words.
"How could you think that I wasn't proud of you?" Obi-Wan's voice sounded choked, and his eyes were glassy with unshed tears as he turned to face Anakin. "By the Force, Anakin you're…" he shook his head tightly, pressing one hand over his eyes. "I'm… I'm sorry that I never…"
"Don't," Anakin whispered, shaking his head. "I couldn't have had a better Master, Obi-Wan." He started to reach out, wanting to touch Obi-Wan, to make contact with him somehow. But he let his hand fall limply back to his side, knowing that if he made that connection, he wouldn't be able to stop. He would cry and kiss Obi-Wan and….
"I wanted to be there." Obi-Wan whispered, staring down at the box in his lap. "I wanted to be the one to…" he sighed heavily, stroking the end of the braid with one finger. He suddenly looked so much older to Anakin, his eyes downcast, shoulders hunched slightly. Obi-Wan's shields were too tight for Anakin to sense any emotion, but his body language broadcasted his hurt and sadness just as clearly.
Anakin held his breath, wanting to speak, not knowing what he could possibly say, but growing more and more anxious as the silence dragged on.
"I don't… I don't have anything as priceless as this to give you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said finally, his eyes still staring fixedly down at the golden plait.
Anakin knelt in front of his Master, staring up into eyes that were now brilliantly blue. "May I ask you for something, Master?"
Obi-Wan frowned slightly, raising one hand to caress the side of Anakin's face. Automatically, Anakin pushed his cheek against that calloused palm, leaning into the tender touch. "Of course you may. Anything you want –"
"A kiss?" Anakin gulped out before Obi-Wan could finish speaking, his voice barely audible. "Just… just one. Just one kiss…" he babbled on nervously, as Obi-Wan's eyes widened in surprise and a tense silence fell between them.
"Padawan, I –" Obi-Wan began.
"No I'm not," Anakin cut in smoothly, stretching up to cup Obi-Wan's cheeks in his hands. "Not anymore."
Force, let me have this one moment, please. That's all I ask….
His lips brushed lightly against Obi-Wan's own, and he felt the shiver that ran through his Master at the intimate contact. A chaste kiss, a brief instant, breath commingling on their lips. Anakin let his eyes fall closed, savouring the feel of Obi-Wan's mouth delicately pressed against his own. It was too sweet to end… but he forced himself to pull away, forced himself to break that innocent kiss before he pushed too far.
Obi-Wan's eyes were still wide with shock, boring into Anakin's own.
Well, that's done it, Skywalker, Anakin found himself thinking bitterly. You've successfully alienated him forever. Not bad for your first day as a Jedi Knight….
"A-Anakin…?"
He hated the unstrung note in Obi-Wan's voice, the disbelief that battered Anakin, making him sink back on his haunches on the floor in embarrassment. Keeping his head down, studying the floor intently, Anakin twisted his hands together awkwardly. He felt like a misbehaving Padawan, brought to heel by his Master and forced to explain his actions.
Flicking his eyes up at Obi-Wan's for a brief instant, then back down at the floor again, Anakin began haltingly. "I… I'm sorry, Master… I shouldn't have… shouldn't have… I'm sorry. I-I-I know that you loved Qui-Gon, and I know that you still love him and that you probably always will, and that I'm just the little runt of a Padawan that you were forced to adopt. Don't –" he shook his head as Obi-Wan started to protest, "don't deny it. You didn't want me any more than I wanted you. And I know that I'm still going to be that annoying kid in your eyes, but now that I'm a Knight, I… I just had to tell you, that's all…"
He couldn't look at the floor to say this, no matter how much easier it would be. The HoloNet reporters called him the Hero with No Fear, but here he was, terrified about what he was doing, of what he was saying. He had faced down overwhelming odds in battle, had fought in the arena on Geonosis, had faced a Sith Lord and lost an arm… but nothing in his life was more difficult than forcing himself to stare right into Obi-Wan's eyes at this moment.
"I love you."
One instant, that was all he could manage, before the floor demanded his attention again. His mind, still in shock at what he had just confessed, let his voice run on autopilot.
"I love you. I've loved you since I was fifteen. I don't… I don't know what to do with myself when you're not around, because you… you're everything. You always have been everything…." Anakin dared to glance at his Master once again, to find Obi-Wan staring at him as though he didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. Feeling a stab of pain in his heart, Anakin quickly returned his gaze to the floor. "I… I just needed to tell you that. That I love you and… and that I-I always have, Master. Obi-Wan."
Anakin shut his eyes tightly, feeling traitorous tears squeeze out from underneath his closed eyelids to trickle down his cheeks. "But I know… I know that you love Qui-Gon, and that you'll never care about me the same way that I do you, but I really need to hear it from you. Just tell me. Tell me that you'll never love me and I'll just leave, because I know that this will make things awkward between us, and I don't want that, but I had to tell you. I had to tell you that I love you. So just tell me now, Obi-Wan. Master. Tell me, please."
Tell me that you don't love me. Anakin's mind begged silently. Just put me out of my misery and tell me.
He was dimly aware that there were tears on his cheeks, that his hands were clenched tightly against the floor, his head bent as though awaiting an executioner's blow.
He didn't look up when he heard Obi-Wan move, didn't look up when his Master's knees filled his field of vision, clad in loose black sleep-pants. He didn't even look up when warm, strong arms wrapped around him fiercely, crushing him against Obi-Wan's chest. He pressed his face against Obi-Wan's neck, shaking as he felt one calloused hand stroke his hair soothingly.
"You're a stupid bantha's ass, runt." Obi-Wan said quietly, his voice laughing. Anakin stiffened in surprise at the nickname, pulling away from Obi-Wan to stare at him silently.
There were tears on the Jedi Knight's cheeks, but Obi-Wan was smiling as he caressed Anakin's cheek again. "How could you ever think that I didn't love you in return? How else would I have managed to put up with you all these years?"
Anakin wanted to frame some retort, but suddenly Obi-Wan's mouth was on his, a desperate expression of passion too long denied.
Emotion exploded between them, binding their minds together with a bond deeper than that of a Master and Apprentice. Anakin could feel tears on his cheeks, mingling with Obi-Wan's own as his hands rose to tangle in the Jedi Knight's soft hair. Their senses intertwined, minds wrapping around each other until Anakin felt every breath that Obi-Wan took, felt his Master's heartbeat as though it were his own. Until they were one being, separated by the barrier of their skin, but irretrievably linked in mind, in soul.
And words no longer mattered.
-----
Anakin is 21 years old
"A-Anakin?"
"Yes, Master?"
"What in the Sith… Why are you wearing a bow, Anakin?"
"It's the Solstice, Master. Don't you want to unwrap your present?"
Please make sure to check out the VERY NOT WORKSAFE but amazing fanart done for chapter 6 by skywlkerkenobi at: (links dont copy into here so I'm going to ahve to write it out in full...)
http (colon backslash blackslash) skywlker-kenobi (dot) livejournal (dot) com (backslash) 12639 (dot) html (number sign) cutid1
rated NC-17, but it is verrrrrrry hawt!
And leave a review, if you would! I would love to come back from my trip to find tons of lovies crammed into my hotmail!
LOVES
Xtine
