When he returned to Coruscant empty-handed, the first thing he was expecting was sheer agony once he was finally reunited with his master.
Sidious had been expecting Obi-Wan's corpse, and Vader hadn't been able to detect a trace of where he may currently be. While the presence of his force signature was still undeniably strong on Tatooine, Vader could now detect its hidden age lines. It was old. Obi-Wan hadn't been on Tatooine for at least two or three months.
He had no idea where the traitor had gone.
He had to keep prodding the bond to remind himself that it was still there, and if it was still there, then Obi-Wan was still alive. Whatever happened to him hadn't killed him. He's alive.
Despite his uncertainty on the matter, something he had absolutely no doubt about was the fact that he was going to be punished as soon as he arrived at the Imperial Palace.
He did not, however, expect a gift.
The announcement of it made him stiffen in apprehension. He learned very quickly in this life that Sidious' "gifts" were not in fact gifts. There was always some kind of intent behind them – either it be to kill him, or to cause him tremendous grief.
Or both.
Only a week after becoming the emperor's new apprentice, seven days after becoming accustomed to the suit he could never live without again, Sidious had given him his first gift.
He gave him Mustafar – the most prominent reminder of his greatest failure. The place he lost everything. The place he lost Padme, the place he lost his unborn child, the place he lost his brother. He was blind to Sidious' true intentions when given this gift, and the gift that came after.
The second gift came a month after the fall of the Republic.
Sidious gave him an aircraft.
Not just any aircraft, the Naboo Royal Starship.
Padme's ship.
His guilt and sorrow had still been so fresh in his mind then, and he remembers exactly how tight his damaged oesophagus became at the sight of it. He remembers Palpatine's kind voice telling him how all her belongings were completely untouched, telling him they were now Vader's to do with as he pleased. He does not remember, recognising the mockery in Sidious' tone, nor did he recognise the true meaning behind the gift either.
But he learned.
With Sidious, there was no other choice but to learn - something Vader had discovered the hard way.
The third and final gift had been the Mask of Lord Momin.
This time, Vader understood.
The way of the Jedi was nothing like the way of the Sith.
After the mask resurrected its original owner and unsuccessfully tried to kill him, Vader pointedly did not trust any future gift his master sought to give him.
He stared at the steel circle, the emblem of the Galactic Empire gleaming on either side of it. It was small enough to fit comfortably in the palm of his hand, but its print was prominent enough to draw attention to the eye.
He wondered how this little trinket was meant to antagonise him as all the others had.
He didn't make the mistake of underestimating Sidious. Each gift was always worse than the one before.
Sidious didn't elaborate, instead leading him to one of the many meditation rooms in the palace. Vader hated these rooms. He hated the palace more than anything.
He felt the nausea start churning in his stomach once he realised exactly which meditation room they were in. He had been in here countless times before in another life. His old quarters were down the hallway. He felt disgusted by his close proximity to it.
He sat across from Sidious on the meditation mat when he was gestured to, and watched quietly as his master reached for his hands. Those old, wrinkly fingers wrapped around his own – forcing them to clamp tightly over the metal emblem he was holding.
He looked Sidious in the eye, and found amber irises apprising him with mild disgust, the same look he always gave Vader when his weaknesses were unravelled. Sidious did not tolerate weakness.
"You must be wondering why I've brought you here, my apprentice" he finally said as he withdrew his hands. Vader gave a brief, respectful nod. "Yes, my master."
Sometimes Vader wondered how Palpatine was so easily able to keep him alive and by his side. Had their roles been reversed, and Sidious been the one who tried to murder and overthrow him as the emperor, he would have eliminated him then and there. This relationship was beyond uneasy, especially when Sidious demanded his full loyalty and devotion even despite the fact Vader had tried to kill him multiple times.
But each time, Sidious had been amused, taunting Vader for his pathetic attempts of rebellion as he tortured him with his lightning. It was the Sith way, after all, for the student to murder the master once they've learned all they can from them. Maybe once, in his organic, undamaged body he would have been able to accomplish such a feat, but it has been made explicitly clear that Vader would never reach his full potential again after he half-melted in the flames fourteen years ago.
"Disappointment is hardly a new concept when it comes to you, Lord Vader, but one of the most significant misfortunes when it comes to you is your failure to develop a bond with me."
Force bonds had always been incredibly easy for Vader, he could develop one with almost any force sensitive being immediately if he wanted, both in this life and the one he lived before. Although, he couldn't even remember the last time he attempted to do something as such. He didn't like anyone in his mind, let alone have the semblance to share a force bond with another being.
He did, in some sense, have a bond with Sidious. For years, his master would obsess with nurturing the bond, pouring in as much darkness as possible to strengthen it. But it never truly reached beyond the preliminary stages of a bond. It was there, but hardly.
Nothing either of them did could strengthen it, so eventually Palpatine just . . . left it there.
"Do you remember what I told you about the Dyad, my apprentice?"
"Yes, my master"
"The power of a dyad was as strong as life itself, with the individuals forming the dyad sharing a connection that spanned across space and time. This rare bond gives the individuals capabilities that even the strongest force-sensitive beings wouldn't be able to dream of."
Vader's next exhale was more forced than necessary. He had heard this speech a thousand times, and each time it led to Sidious' disappointment in him for failing to create such a bond with him.
As if hearing Vader's thoughts, Sidious peered at him warningly.
"I was very displeased with your weakness, Lord Vader. However, in light of recent events, I have a theory I intend to examine," he gestured to the emblem in Vader's hand. "Reach for your source of power. Fill your mind with rage; think of the one who took everything from you"
Vader did.
It was something he did so often that it had become as easy as breathing once was for him. His head was flooded with Obi-Wan's face, that wretched blue lightsaber he had used to slice off Vader's remaining limbs. Those beautiful blue eyes narrowed in hatred and contempt.
He felt the bond quiver in the back of his mind as he reached for it involuntarily. It drew his attention to the scars on those impenetrable shields keeping him from accessing the other person in the bond. They were big, festering sores, resembling the markings of an angry captured lion who had tried to scratch its way out of its enclosure. He had done it with his mind, attacking the shields, trying to drag them down with the claws of his rage every time the thought of Kenobi crossed his mind.
Which was something that happened a lot.
For Obi-Wan's sake, he'd better make sure those shields stayed strong enough to separate them, because the second Vader sensed a moment of weakness, he was going to shred them to pieces and obliviate his former master's mind. He would do irreparable damage before finally letting the old fool die, and still he knew it wouldn't compensate for the suffering Kenobi has inflicted on him.
He hated him. He hated him more than anything in the world. Hatred couldn't even begin to describe how much he loathed that traitorous, manipulative, lying, deceitful, malicious, two-faced-
His eyes opened up again in slight surprise as he felt the light weight that had been resting in his hands suddenly disappear. It was gone. The emblem wasn't there anymore. The bond was humming warmly in his mind as he searched his master's hands, who also wasn't holding the emblem.
Sidious was barely breathing, watching him with that cruel inscrutable expression, though the mask had been cracked by the visible apprehension in those vicious, yellow eyes.
Vader patiently waited for his master to elaborate on what had just happened, knowing from experience that he would be punished if he spoke unprompted.
He suddenly felt a mixture of nausea, fear and misery bombarding him at once. The emotions had a steel grip on his psyche, spreading to every hidden crevice of his mind before freezing abruptly – the feelings that had just been scorching him turning cold, freezing over like ice.
He didn't yet realise that these were not his own emotions he was feeling.
Not until he felt the weight of the emblem back in his palm, until he sensed the warmth of its smooth, metallic form that could have only resulted from someone holding it, someone with real, organic hands that held warmth like almost all sentient beings.
He understood when he realised what he had just done.
Because he just passed an object to another being with his mind. He sent the emblem through the force where it travelled millions of lightyears away to wherever the bane of his existence currently was. Where it had appeared in his hands, where he too must have realised the truth if he hadn't already.
Force sensitive beings passing objects through the force to each other was almost unheard of.
Almost.
With the lone exception being the dyad.
Sidious was staring at the emblem in his hand, his expression hardened with a mixture of triumph and contempt. He stood abruptly, looking down at Vader with revulsion.
"It appears my theory was correct" he hissed.
Vader had managed to do what thousands of Sith before him had tried and failed to accomplish, what Sidious had been wanting him to accomplish from the day he became a Sith Lord – to form a dyad with his master.
Only it was the wrong one.
They were a dyad.
He and Obi-wan were a dyad.
One in the force.
Two halves of the same soul.
They had been close, once. Perhaps back then he would have described their relationship as something similar to the poetry written about the dyad, but not once did he ever think they actually were a . . .
If he hadn't been so blindsided by his own shock, he would have sensed that the emperor's disgust had escalated to pure rage. He was unable to defend himself from that anger when it was focused into a channel of lightning, striking him in the chest panel.
He couldn't do anything now that he was on his back, completely defenceless as Sidious loomed above him, keeping him pinned with the blow of his lightning.
It was sheer agony for seconds, minutes, hours, he couldn't tell. But eventually, he couldn't withstand it any longer, his consciousness fading into the dark to escape the unrelenting torture.
He awoke to gentle fingers brushing through his hair.
"Master?" he asked tiredly, rubbing the sleep out his eyes. "Has something happened?" he asked with more urgency once he remembered where they were.
It was still more than a little disturbing, having their ship floating in the middle of nowhere. The closest of the billions of stars they could see from the ship was at least 60 million lightyears away, reduced to a glimmer of light in the distance of the unforgiving black of the universe.
He calmed slightly at the small playful smile his master was giving him – the same one he gave Anakin when he pretended not to see him sneaking away from one of Yoda's training sessions only a week ago. The same one he gave Anakin when he returned from a mission a month ago with some traditional treats from Ukio.
Obi-Wan sensed his alarm through their bond, and continued to stroke his hair apologetically.
"I'm sorry for waking you, Anakin. I didn't mean to frighten you. But there's something I thought you would like to see."
He stood up and gave Anakin his hand, who took it willingly and used it to pull himself up too.
Obi-Wan lead him out of the room and down one of the many long corridors of the ship. His master had first brought him along for a galactic mission when he was ten, and now almost two years later he found that he still got lost every now and then.
"Will we be continuing our journey to Korriban? We've been floating in the middle of nowhere for almost a week now."
Obi-Wan shook his head and patiently answered "Not yet. This is about something else."
He tried not to stare at his master as he was dragged along, trying not to draw attention to their hands, which were still grasping each other.
Obi-Wan was letting him hold his hand.
They reached the observance hall, and Anakin's mood immediately soured once he saw all the other masters on the ship gathered together around a small table; meaning their padawans were bound to be close by.
Anakin wanted to scream.
Not another training activity. Please not another training activity.
At least once each day they have spent on this force-forsaken ship, the masters would bring their padawans together for some form of a joint training exercise, whilst they watched from that table -drinking tea and eating cake like a mothers group.
Anakin hated it. He hated it so much.
All the padawans of his generation had known each other since infancy. They all had a bond, something so close and precious – linking them together like siblings.
But not Anakin.
Anakin had come far too late for that. He was a stranger amidst their family. An unwelcome stranger. He would hear them whispering about him sometimes, talking in hushed tones about why the Jedi council had accepted a boy who was nine years too late to join the order. They would criticize the prophecy of the chosen one, some of them adamantly believing it wasn't him whilst others believed the prophecy didn't exist at all. Sometimes, they would say he was nothing, and would always be nothing more than a slave.
It made him seethe in anger.
But worst of all, they would talk about his master.
Only yesterday he had heard them chattering again;
"Why did the council permit Master Kenobi to train Skywalker out of all of us? How unfair is that, making the youngest and most inexperienced of all the masters pair up with the most unruly, reckless padawan of our generation." Ferus Olin had said.
"That's not what I heard" Darra had replied. Out of all of them, Anakin would have to admit that she was the least nasty to him. "Apparently the council tried to deny Master Kenobi's request to train Skywalker, but he argued back and basically told them he would train him with or without the council's approval."
Tru had whistled in surprise. "Well then, Kenobi's not the most conventional Jedi in the order then, is he? They were made for each other."
He said it in a joking tone. He always said everything in a joking tone.
But Olin remained stoic. "He's one of the most powerful Jedis in the order. He singlehandedly defeated a Sith Lord after his master was killed right in front of him, as a padawan, not less. The Council can't afford to lose him, so they gave him Skywalker to keep him planted. Huge mistake. Did you see him the other day? He threw a tantrum in front of us all like an uncivilized barbarian. He is an embarrassment to the order. Master Kenobi must be ashamed to be affiliated with him."
He scoffed before continuing.
"If anything, it's his own fault. He's too soft with him. Skywalker's behaviour isn't going to get any better if he's consistently coddled".
Anakin remained completely silent behind the pillar where he was hiding, despite his shudders and the tears running down his face in streams. He wanted to scream at them. He wanted to reveal himself and watch their faces drop in horror as he force shoved them back into the floor, remind them that the force's favour in them is nothing in comparison with his bond with it, because he is its son.
But more than anything, he just wanted to wrap his arms around his knees, crumple himself into a ball and cry himself to sleep. He wanted to be accepted by them. He wanted to be part of their family. And he hated himself for wanting that.
"Children, you should be in the training hall. Were you enjoying your little gossiping session so much that you forgot that your drills are starting in five minutes?"
Anakin had flinched so hard it physically hurt. He realized his mental shields had crumpled in his state of emotional despair, and he quickly slammed them back up. But he knew it was already far too late for that. Obi-Wan would have felt everything through their bond.
He heard the other padawans scrambling to get themselves together.
"Sorry Master! We didn't mean to-"
"Go to the training hall. I will deal with you later." Obi-Wan cut in before Darra could finish. His tone was even but cold, and Anakin could sense their fear in the force as they bowed and obeyed.
He had stood as motionlessly as a statue for a minute after they left, furiously scrubbing the tears from his face as his Master came over and lead him away from the pillar.
He was waiting for the scolding. Anakin, you should know better than to let your anger get the better of you. I could feel you seething from the other side of the ship. How many times do I need to tell you to release your emotions into the force? This is not the Jedi way Anakin.
But Obi-Wan didn't do any of that. He gently pulled Anakin's hands away from his face and lifted his cloaked inner wrist to dry his tears. They looked at each other for a moment before Anakin's face crumpled again, hiccupping as he tried to suppress his sobs.
He heard Obi-Wan sigh before his hand held the back of Anakin's neck and gently guided his face to his shoulder, where Anakin began properly crying.
He felt the burning despair and sadness within him start to drain away once Obi-Wan stroked his back in up and down motions, effectively calming him down with his soothing physical touches.
"Don't listen to anything they have to say. They're just children being children. They don't know any better."
Anakin sniffed, and brought his arms up to cling to his master.
"But they're just so mean" he cried into Obi-Wan's shoulder. Force, they were right. Here he was, whining and clinging to his master about his problems like a baby. He was an embarrassment to the order.
But Obi-Wan kept rubbing his back soothingly. "I know dearheart. They shouldn't have said any of that. That was very wrong of them."
He felt cold once Obi-Wan ended their embrace, but he managed to keep his tears at bay once he felt a soft hand grasping his.
"Come along, Anakin. You are far too big for me to carry now"
He sniffed again, and allowed Obi-Wan to lead him out of the room and over to the nearest elevator, feeling instantly calmed again by his master's hand in his own. He couldn't remember the last time they held hands. Obi-Wan had been receding the amount of affection he gave him, justifying the change by saying that Anakin was 'too old to be treated like a child'.
He was eleven.
If it meant that he still received this affection that the order so unrelentingly forbade; then part of him wanted to stay a child forever.
He dreaded the day Obi-Wan withheld this from him completely, and for the day their relationship became as dry and professional as Tru Veld's relationship with his master Ry-Gaul.
He squeezed his master's fingers to stop his increasing panic. They're comforting presence was an explicit reminder that that day had not come yet.
His comfort was short-lived as soon as he remembered what Obi-Wan had said to the other padawans.
"Are we going to the training hall?" like we're expected to.
Obi-Wan looked down at him and his eyes softened slightly, something so uncharacteristic and rare for Obi-Wan to do with him nowadays. Anakin had probably been confusing him – wanting both to be treated like an equal but also craving his master's closeness and affection.
"Well actually, the other masters have requested jogan fruitcake and tarine tea for our little spread today, and you of all people would know that those particular delicacies are not to my taste, so if it's all the same to you, I would prefer to spend the rest of the evening relaxing with my darling padawan."
Just like that, Anakin's stress was immediately released into the force without a single attempt. He wasn't expected to spend the next three hours sparring whilst trying not to cry as the others whispered and laughed exclusively with each other. They didn't want anything to do with him, but his master did. Obi-Wan wanted to spend the rest of the evening with him. His burst of euphoria gave him enough confidence to lean into his master, pressing his temple trustingly into his arm.
He couldn't even try suppressing the smile that spread over his face when Obi-Wan leaned into him too.
Once they reached their quarters, they spend the rest of the evening doing whatever Anakin wanted, which mostly included talking about anything and everything completely unrelated to the order. Obi-Wan smiled as they tinkered together on a broken droid, listening to Anakin's chatter and indulging his endless stream of questions with a response.
He couldn't remember the last time he had this – his master's attention focused solely on him.
They even watched an old holomovie on Obi-Wan's datapad; sitting pressed together in Anakin's bed as Obi-Wan positioned the device in his lap for them both.
Anakin didn't even object to the hours' worth of meditation Obi-Wan made him do before bed to compensate for the training he had missed out on with his peers. When he finally got to sleep that night, he smiled in his pillow knowing that he had just had one of the best days of his life, and the happiness lingering in his mind was a certain barrier to any of his usual nightmares. He was truly looking forward to getting a good night's sleep.
But clearly, the force had other plans, because Obi-Wan had just awoken him in the middle of the night to take him to the training hall. Once the other masters noticed their presence, Obi-Wan dropped his hand like it was burning him and greeted them politely.
Anakin didn't really hear anything. He was too busy mourning the loss of his master's hand holding his own. It was a painful reminder that Obi-Wan couldn't indulge him 24/7 like Anakin so desperately wanted him to.
However, his attention was caught by Master Ry-Gaul, who was frowning at him unabashedly.
"Obi-Wan, what did you bring Skywalker here for? Did you . . . wake him? Willingly?" he asked incredulously.
Anakin frowned in confusion and looked up at his master, who looked momentarily nervous before looking down at Anakin and giving him a reassuring smile.
He walked over to the other side of the gargantuan window, indicating for Anakin to follow him.
"I did."
Master Siri Tachi laughed unevenly, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. It was then that Anakin noticed the absence of the other padawans, and that he was the only child in the room with them. His eyebrows furrowed as he put the pieces together. "Where is everyone else?"
"Asleep. Like you should be child. Obi-Wan, what did you wake him up for? This is the only time we get a break from them, and you are voluntarily choosing not to take advantage of it?" Ry-Gaul said as Master Soara Antana was hastily throwing a cloth over the table to cover the large, coloured bottles on it.
Oh.
So this is what Obi-Wan would do each night. Come here and get drunk with his fellow masters while their padawans were asleep. Next time Ferus Olin said some bullshit about having the best master in the order, Anakin would gladly watch his face drop in horror as he informs him of the reality.
Obi-Wan was staring out of the window, almost like he was looking for something.
"They can be rather tiring, can't they?" he murmured absentmindedly, completely unaware of Anakin's sinking heart. He knew he wasn't the perfect padawan, and it would be false to say he didn't purposely make things difficult for his master when his anger and frustration got the better of him. His guilt only deepened as the memories of him screaming that Qui Gon would have been a far better master during their fights began flooding his brain.
But before he could shrink into himself and sulk, Obi-Wan ran his fingers down Anakin's padawan brain and pushed it to rest on his shoulder where it reached his collarbone. "But I suppose it's a good thing that this little one doesn't give me any grief at all then."
Master Tachi scoffed, fiddling with the finger food on the platter before her. "The other day we found Ferus and Darra in the maintenance cupboard doing force knew what. Then the day before that we found one of the emergency pods missing and a very embarrassed Tru telling us that he accidentally sent it to Dantooine – how the in the hell he managed to do that, I have absolutely no idea, but my point is, when those little devils are asleep is the only time my consciousness isn't on the brink of collapsing."
Obi-Wan just kept smiling down at Anakin wistfully.
"Well, my padawan is an angel"
The butterflies in Anakin's stomach went insane, and the blush on his cheeks probably made him as red as a tomato.
Master Antana watched them for a bit before rolling her eyes. "Alright, do what you will, but I'm still having my Durindfire." She tossed the cloth away and poured one of the bottles into her glass. The other masters still looked rather puzzled, but eventually followed Master Antana's lead and went back to snacking and talking with each other.
Obi-Wan sat on the floor, and gently tugged at Anakin's wrist for him to do the same.
"Master," he said uncertainly as he sunk down on his knees, "Why did you . . . I mean, I didn't mean- it's just I . . .um . ." he was at a complete loss for words.
Obi-Wan just called him an angel.
He thinks I'm an angel.
"Do you remember when I told you about what happens to stars when they reach the end of their lives?"
Anakin gasped, his small hands grabbing onto his master's clothed arm. "No way" he whispered, scanning the window with both apprehension and excitement. "Where is it?!" he demanded.
He had always wanted to see a supernova. Other than the scorching heat of the twin suns, the wasteland Anakin had grown up in hadn't had much of anything to offer when it came to celestial bodies.
Obi-Wan pulled him closer, easily manoeuvring him so that their sides were pressed together, his hair tickling Obi-Wan's nose. Those fingers were back on his head, pushing stray locks of dark gold hair out of his face. "You need to get a haircut when we finish the mission. Look at this little mop you've managed to grow in such a short time" he chuckled fondly, leaning in closer to nuzzle his hair tenderly.
Any concern of the other masters watching them had completely vanished from Anakin's mind as he soaked up the affection like a sponge. He had no idea why Obi-Wan was being so lenient with it right now, especially while they were out in the open, but he wasn't prepared to investigate any further.
He felt so content.
So happy for the first time in ages.
The warmth in his chest blossoms as he follows where his master points to in the abundant sea of stars, drawing his attention to a distant cluster of clouds, swirling with various shades of pink, purple, green and blue. It was roughly the size of a grape from where they were sitting, but he listened with wonder as Obi-Wan explained the enormity of its true size, and that its visibility to them was largely related to how humongous it really was, as that star had exploded 89 million lightyears away from their current position.
"It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen" he whispered.
Although, Obi-Wan had woken him up in the middle of his sleep cycle for the night, and the tiredness he felt from before was creeping back into his system again. That, along with Obi-Wan's fingers raking gently through his hair meant Anakin would be losing a fight to sleep very soon.
As he began to drift off, feeling safe and comfortable with his body leaning on Obi-Wan, he feels a shift in the force around him. The warmth in their shared aura suddenly went cold, chilling him internally. He had never felt anything like it before, like he was being watched – or like someone was trying to slither somewhere they weren't supposed to.
Unnatural. It felt unnatural.
"I miss you so much"
He almost didn't hear it, but after hearing it whispered again he shifted so that he could look up at his master, who was staring at him with a blank, dull expression. Anakin's brows furrowed in confusion at the sight.
"But I'm right here," he said with a tilt of his head.
His response didn't elicit the reaction he was expecting. Instead, Obi-Wan looked even more distant, gazing at Anakin with the same saddened appraisal. He snapped out of it after a few moments, looking around the room sharply like he had detected a threat. Did he sense the shift in the force too?
Anakin couldn't seem to bring himself to actually ask, watching perplexedly as those bright blue eyes landed on him again, looking softer and more resigned than he had ever seen them.
"Goodbye Anakin"
Vader wakes in the bacta tank, still feeling the ghost of delicate fingers tucking a lock of blonde hair behind his ear.
He blinked slowly at the blurry pane of glass in front of him as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened. He didn't even realise the shields in the bond were leaking, for he couldn't bring himself to focus beyond the endless pit of sorrow blooming in his chest - completely obscuring the anger and hatred that permanently resided there.
His damaged eyes had stopped being painful years ago, but he felt an older, more familiar stinging sensation in them for the first time in a while.
It was just a dream.
But it felt so real.
The most terrifying part was, for just a brief second there,
He had wished that it was.