Part XX
Obi-Wan had been surprised to wake up in the bedroom. Even more surprising was the fact that it was midmorning. The last time he'd slept that late was after an all-night scouting mission towards the end of the Wars. Anakin had purposely coaxed him into a deep sleep then threatened Cody and the rest to ensure that he wouldn't be disturbed. He would have expected such a thing from Luke if the boy had any type of serious control over the Force, but most of Luke's manipulations were emotional and spontaneous. Hardly the type of finesse needed to encourage sleep. That Anakin was responsible was even more of a shock.
Not quite sure what to make of the situation, he'd simply thanked Anakin when he saw the younger man. Anakin's grunted response was close to what he'd expected.
"Whacha doin', Daddy?" Luke asked, poking his head into the 'fresher while Obi-Wan was attempting to wrap his still sore right hand.
Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder at the small boy, offering up a reassuring grin. "I had a small accident last night while showering."
"Oh. What happened?"
"I slipped and hit my hand on the wall." It wasn't a complete truth, but Luke was far too young to understand what had brought Obi-Wan to punch the shower wall.
Obi-Wan smeared some bacta that he'd found in the 'fresher's medikit across his battered knuckles before slipping the end of the bandage between his pointer and middle fingers. Squeezing his fingers together to hold the cloth steady, Obi-Wan began winding around his hand with practiced ease. There had been far too many times during the Wars that he'd been forced into the role of medic while they were on the battlefield.
"That why you tell me not to play in the shower?" Luke asked, watching what Obi-Wan was doing with fascination.
He grinned at the boy, Luke's blunt response so much like one Anakin would have given in his youth. "Yes, that's why I tell you not to play in the shower. Only the bath."
"You only hurted your hand, right?"
"Only my hand."
Luke nodded, satisfied with Obi-Wan's answer. The boy had bolted back out of the 'fresher before Obi-Wan finished wrapping his hand, already distracted by something else.
By the time they'd arrived at the river, Obi-Wan was beginning to suspect that Luke had something to do with Anakin's motivations.
Obi-Wan glanced downstream towards Luke and Anakin. Luke was standing knee deep in the river, staring intently at Anakin who was crouching at the water's edge. Stripped to his trousers, Obi-Wan had no choice but to look at the scars that mottled Anakin's torso. Thick, shining weals where there had only been smooth lines of muscle. His guilt written upon Anakin's flesh. Even without Anakin asking for help on that fiery shore, he should have taken him to safety before the flames had ignited. Anakin had been his friend, his brother. There was nothing Master Yoda should have been able to say that would make him turn against the other half of his very self. Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder how different things would have been if he'd refused Master Yoda's orders and faced Sidious himself.
Turning himself away from Anakin and Luke, Obi-Wan went back to laundering their clothes. There was no point in going down that path, even in his mind. Obi-Wan already knew exactly what would have happened if he and Master Yoda had exchanged places that fateful day. He would have died at the hands of the Sith Lord and both Anakin and Luke would have been lost forever.
Obi-Wan rung out his clean tunic, checking it a final time to ensure that the worst of the singe marks were scrubbed away. It was hardly as clean as he would have liked, but it was serviceable until he was able to retrieve some of his own clothing in a day or so. Luke's tunic and trousers were already washed and hanging from a nearby branch.
"Daddy! Daddy, look!"
After giving his shirt a final shake, Obi-Wan rose to his feet just as Luke came galloping towards him through the shallow water. There was a pair of small rocks clutched tightly in his hands. From where he was still crouching, Anakin looked quite pleased with himself, something that instantly set Obi-Wan's nerves on edge. Things never went well for him when Anakin was smug.
"What have you got there?" Obi-Wan asked, turning slightly to hang his tunic over a low branch.
Luke stood bouncing from foot to foot, waiting until he had Obi-Wan's full attention. The boy glanced briefly over his shoulder at Anakin, looking for a bit of reassurance. Obi-Wan was pleased to see the way Anakin's features softened somewhat. It was just as Obi-Wan had hoped, that Luke would coax the Anakin that he'd once known back to the surface.
"Watch," Luke instructed, opening his fists and staring intently at the two rocks resting on his palms. Very slowly, the rocks began to hover ever so slightly above Luke's open hands. They didn't lift far, not once Luke began giggling and lost his concentration. Both rocks tumbled to the ground, but Luke was undaunted, beaming up at Obi-Wan and awaiting his approval.
"That was quite impressive," Obi-Wan enthused, kneeling down so that he was at a level with the little boy.
Luke once again glanced back towards Anakin, grinning broadly. "Papa teached me."
"Very impressive indeed."
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Waking up two days in a row alongside Obi-Wan was unsettling. Unsettling because of how normal it felt, though Anakin suspected—and hoped—that Luke's presence was the main source of his... contentment. It couldn't be Obi-Wan's return to his life. The time when Obi-Wan played an important role in his life was long over. The older man had tried to kill him and taken Luke from him for nearly four years. Obi-Wan had lied to him and asked him to do things that were unconscionable to a Jedi. There was no reason that he should feel anything positive about Obi-Wan's return to his life.
Especially not when Luke was still so utterly devoted to his false father.
Even so, it was impossible not be drawn back to memories of his own childhood as he watched Obi-Wan bend down to speak to Luke. Anakin still remembered what it was like to have Obi-Wan's full attention focused on him and how important it had made him feel when he'd first entered the Jedi Temple.
Anakin shoved the thoughts away, growling quietly under his breath. He was no longer the child who'd hung onto every word—every lie—that had passed Obi-Wan's lips.
"There's a towel over there you can use if you'd like me to clean your trousers."
Obi-Wan's voice, directed at him, startled Anakin from his thoughts. He stared at the older man for a moment, uncomprehending, before looking directly at his former master. There was no guile, at last none that he could detect, in the other man's gaze.
"Anakin?"
Luke ultimately made the decision for him, darting towards the towel Obi-Wan had indicated. "Yer pants need cleaning, Papa."
As soon as Anakin reached out to take possession of the towel, Luke was off again, rushing back towards the little fort he'd started to build out of rocks. Anakin watched him go, something inside him lightening as he watched Luke run about so carefree and happy. The boy radiated pure light in a way that he had never seen before. Anakin wished that he could lay claim to some of that brightness. That he was in some way responsible for Luke being so utterly content.
"We need to figure out a plan," Obi-Wan said, interrupting his thoughts. When he looked over at the older man, Obi-Wan had stripped out of his own trousers and was in the process of wrapping a towel around his hips. "I would like to give Luke back a sense of stability."
This was the Obi-Wan he was used to. The one who took charge of situations and plowed on regardless of what was going on around him. Anakin still vividly remembered a battle on some nameless Outer Rim planet when Obi-Wan had been issuing orders to the various battalion leaders while the medics were setting his dislocated shoulder and forcing a splintered shard of bone back through the skin of his forearm. Obi-Wan hadn't broken stride once even though Anakin himself had felt nauseous watching it.
"Are you going to let me wash your trousers?"
For the first time, Anakin became aware of just how much time had passed since Luke had wandered off to play at the river's edge. Obi-Wan was nearly finished with his own pants.
"What's so important that you want to risk going back to the Forest Moon?" Anakin countered as he began to tug at the fastenings of his pants. He paused for the briefest of seconds before pushing them down over his hips. The scars on the lower part of his body were thicker and far more conspicuous than the ones on his torso. It was only thanks to the extreme talent of Palpatine's medics that Anakin even still resembled a man from the waist down. In the end, he decided that he'd much rather Obi-Wan be forced to see the results of his betrayal.
Obi-Wan stood up and began to wring out his damp trousers. He looked directly at Anakin for an all too brief moment before turning towards the tree to hang them up. "Our lightsabers. Your old one and mine, in any case."
Even though he knew that he shouldn't be, Anakin couldn't help but feel somewhat surprised that Obi-Wan had held onto his lightsaber. He leaned over to tug his trousers free of his feet then handed them towards Obi-Wan.
"I meant for Luke to use it when he was old enough," Obi-Wan admitted as he accepted the pants from Anakin. "For him to have something of his father's."
Anakin struggled, but couldn't think of any way to respond to Obi-Wan's revelation. Obi-Wan had always had a way with words that staggered Anakin. The older man would have made an excellent politician if he'd had the stomach for it. Unlike the politicians, Obi-Wan's words held a great deal of truth. Those truths were greater when the matter held personal significance to Obi-Wan. Like Luke did now.
As much as he wanted to rail against Obi-Wan, continue building upon the hatred he already felt for the older man, he couldn't. He'd never been able to stay angry with Obi-Wan for any extended length of time. Obi-Wan had such a calming Force signature that made it difficult to direct negative emotion towards him for any extended period. It had frustrated Anakin to no end as a padawan and knight, and certainly didn't endear the older man to him then.
"I only ever wanted what was best for Luke," Obi-Wan said as he set himself down to washing Anakin's pants. As Obi-Wan shifted, the towel that was wrapped around his waist shifted as well, revealing a scar on his upper left thigh that Anakin couldn't recall.
There had been a time when he'd known Obi-Wan's body more intimately than he'd known Padmé's. When he'd known the feel of it, the location of every scar and imperfection, and when he'd been able to map out the constellations of freckles on his shoulders and the back of his hands. He'd been closer to Obi-Wan than he had any other soul in the galaxy and even though the older man hadn't changed much since the fall of the Republic, he was virtually a stranger.
The swirl of chaotic emotions that Obi-Wan was creating in him was incredibly unnerving. His current anger warred with remembered calm, making Anakin uneasy. Not trusting himself to refrain from acting out in front of Luke, Anakin left Obi-Wan to his work and drifted towards his son. Luke was as soothing to him now as Obi-Wan had been in the past.
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Daddy and Papa were very confusing. Luke knew they still loved each other—their blueness would start to get all twisted together whenever they were close enough—but they both acted so horribly to each other. Papa more than Daddy. Papa still thought that he hated Daddy because of what happened on the fiery planet.
The holonovel said that they were closer than anyone else ever. That sometimes people forgot they weren't one person. Luke didn't really understand that part, but he knew it meant that Daddy and Papa loved each other lots. They just forgot. Papa was too angry and Daddy was too serious and it made them fight when they should have been happy like he was. He had his daddies and everything was going to be okay because the Scary Man was finally gone.
"Can't hurt Papa anymore," Luke grumbled as he practiced lifting rocks like Papa had showed him. "Papa's back with Daddy and Daddy'll make him all better.
XXXXXXXXXX
Wilhuff Tarkin viewed the edited footage within the privacy of his richly appointed apartments on board the Death Star. Construction on the super weapon had been halted temporarily as decisions about its completion were made. Tarkin himself had never been fond of the former Emperor's planet killer, but knew that it could be the necessary thing to cement his power base.
News of Palpatine's death would soon be announced, as would Tarkin's ascension to the title of Emperor of the Galactic Empire. He and his staff had taken the time to craft the perfect scenario that would turn Vader from the heir apparent into an enemy of the Empire. He had been working for months to try and find a way to denounce Vader in the Emperor's eyes. Never once had he thought that Vader would do the work for him and take not only himself out of the picture, but Palpatine as well.
Vader's decision to remove his mask and reveal his true identity helped make things that much simpler. The Emperor's death at the hands of his top lieutenant would discredit him to those loyal to the Galactic Empire while the rebel Republican sympathizers would be horrified to learn that their revered Anakin Skywalker—one of the Jedi supposedly lost to Order 66—had helped to destroy the democracy he'd once upheld. It was just a matter of carefully splicing together video files and artfully removing Kenobi from that final confrontation. Tarkin couldn't risk that possible bout of nostalgia that the reunion of The Negotiator and The Hero With No Fear might create.
It was positively delicious to think that in only a few short hours Vader would be the most reviled man in all the galaxy.