Chapter Text
There are several reasons that Obi-Wan adopted the habit of stroking his beard. For one thing, Obi-Wan is aware that his Core-world accent, sense of propriety, and impeccable grooming often give others the impression that he is uptight. Over time, he has learned to play along with the joke. It helps to be underestimated. The beard-stroking is excellent for accentuating his sanctimonious air, both for comedic purposes and to encourage his enemies to underestimate him.
Second, what began as a tongue-in-cheek joke has by this point developed into a habit. He is not entirely sure he could stop if he wanted to. Besides, it is an objectively nice beard.
Lastly, it is a slightly more subtle method of hiding his facial expressions than simply covering his mouth. This is one of the primary reasons he retained the gesture until it became habitual.
Of course, such a flimsy trick doesn’t work with Anakin. Even separated and diminished in size as they are through the holocomm, he does not bother to hide his frown.
“I was sleepwalking,” Anakin is saying. “You know I do that sometimes.”
Obi-Wan would prefer to be having this conversation in person. He’d prefer it even more if this conversation was unnecessary, but that would be too simple wouldn’t it? Still, he explains to Anakin all of the reasons why his excuse is invalid. He nearly died. Twice. In the span of less than a week.
Anakin looks ragged. The harshness of his physical appearance is muted by the holoprojector, but it’s still clearly visible. Obi-Wan doesn’t need the reminder. He could have died.
Anakin promptly brushes off his lecture. As usual. Honestly, why do I even bother? He normally considers this thought with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. Today he just feels defeat.
He would like nothing better right now than to steal Anakin away to their shared quarters in the Temple, wrap him in blankets, and stuff him with tea and takeout from Dex’s. Instead he is forced to play the bad guy. He says, “You’re going to stay in medical with restraints on at night until we’re sure you’re not going to try to kill yourself in your sleep. Again.” Force forbid. It was horrifying enough the first time around.
“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” Anakin snarls. Obi-Wan is sure that if he were close enough, he would feel the Force roiling around Anakin. It’s a familiar feeling. Anakin is so bright that it’s nearly impossible for his Force presence to go unnoticed. It’s always fluctuating with his emotions in a way that Obi-Wan could never teach him to tame.
“Anakin,” he says, trying for a calming tone. I’m not trying to hurt you, he wants to say. I want to help you. Why are you fighting me?
“Save your excuses for someone who won’t see through them, Master.” Anakin practically spits the last word. They’ve apparently reached the stage of their standard argument where Anakin’s history with other uses for that word starts to show.
We’re not doing this, he thinks. Not now.
He is not in the mood to go dragging up either one of their pasts. He takes a moment to collect himself, to breathe deeply and call on the Force for the ability to respond without rising to the bait. He says, “Clearly you’re not in a fit state to have this conversation. However, you might consider that this behavior is not helping you prove your case.”
“You mean my blatant emotionalism makes me untrustworthy? You’re just like the Council,” Anakin continues, still determined to argue.
“I’m on the Council,” Obi-Wan points out as reasonably as he can.
“You see? And I shouldn’t have to prove myself. You should just believe me.”
Now that is unacceptable. They both know Anakin is lying through his teeth about being fine and deliberately stirring up an argument to deflect. The painful thing is that some of his points might be valid if he wasn’t using them as a cover. The Council does have a tendency to berate him for his emotions and then manipulate him for the emotional reactions they want.
It’s not fair. He knows that. But he can’t swallow it back when he points out sadly, “How can I when we both know you’re lying?”
Anakin says nothing, recognizing the impasse they’ve reached.
Obi-Wan releases a sigh and prays to the Force again for strength. “I’ll comm again later when you’re prepared to have a rational discussion.” He signs off before Anakin can prolong the argument.
Lecturing Anakin is usually a bit cathartic, but their genuine arguments always drain him to the core. He would desperately like to sit down and meditate the hollowness out of his frame, but he is called away to be a general again.
The hurt lingers.