A/N Part two, "Broken," which I actually wrote before "Cracked." Set during Attack of the Clones... yes. I have nothing else to say.
Disclaimer I don't own Star Wars or any associated characters, events, etc.
[2/3]
BROKEN
Anakin had innocent eyes, though they had gone through more than they should have—the death of a friend, the loss of a mother, the agony of being separated from the woman he loved for ten years. His love for her was obvious, painfully obvious, to most all of the Jedi, but they ignored it, hoping that it would pass in time. After all, Padmé Amidala was adored by many.
Yes, many, Obi-Wan Kenobi told himself. Anakin's feelings for her were just another in the long line. He was unreasonably excited over seeing her, and even more drastically disappointed when she had next to no reaction meeting him again, but still, it couldn't mean anything. Of course not.
Obi-Wan shook his head minutely, as if trying to realign his thoughts. He was a Jedi Knight; he wasn't supposed to have wonderings or doubts. And, usually, he didn't. But the more time he spent around Anakin, the harder it was to keep his facts straight. Because Anakin Skywalker, his Padawan, wasn't a creature of facts and order, like Master Yoda or Master Windu. Unlike the typical Jedi, he was everywhere, everything, all the time. He was sadness and joy, fury and peace, fire and water, sky and earth, a glorious, glittering swirl in the center of the even alignment of the Force. He was more powerful than the death of a thousand star systems or a pillar of flame arching through the universe. Obi-Wan always knew how his apprentice was feeling, no matter their distance from one another, simply because they were so connected. And so he always knew that Anakin was consumed by his desire for Padmé. That wasn't right, for a Jedi. Only the Sith loved, and at the price of being tools of darkness. Jedi couldn't love. Because they were Jedi. Love and passion were distractions, the reason for a fatal slip in a duel or the surrender of priceless information to an enemy. And so, logically, they were forbidden. That was how it was. How it always had been, and how it always would be.
Anakin had broken this law.
So had Obi-Wan.
Slowly, the older Jedi adjusted his balance, putting the weight on the back of his feet, unlocking his knees, and bouncing slightly to ensure the flow of blood through his system. They had only been here, outside of Amidala's bedroom, for a few minutes, but the plan was to remain there through the whole night. His discussion with Anakin on Padmé herself had lapsed into silence, and the Padawan was turned slightly towards the Senator's door. Still, he sensed Obi-Wan's movement, and imitated it.
"You must remember to maintain these things yourself," Obi-Wan reminded him. Though his voice was soft, it sliced through the aura of silent peace in the Coruscant apartment.
"I try, Master," Anakin replied, voice distracted. He glanced at the Jedi Knight for a moment, and Obi-Wan was careful to hide how much he savored the feel of those sky-blue eyes fixed on him. Then they were gone, as the handsome, young face whipped around, Padawan braid flying, to stare, horrified, in the direction of Amidala's room.
It took an eternal moment for Obi-Wan to sift through his feelings, trying to discern what had upset Anakin. Then he felt it, a burning danger on the other side of the door.
"I sense it, too," he muttered, but Anakin had already leapt into the bedroom of his love and future wife, lightsaber swinging, leaving Obi-Wan to hurry after him, left alone for a long moment in the shadowed apartment.