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Pova wanted to hate Cody.
Cody just appeared one day, and Obi-Wan loved him, and Pova knew why. They had been friends during the war.
But Cody had a clone’s face (and hair) and a stormtrooper’s helmet, and had divided Obi-Wan’s attention (and Pova shouldn’t have been jealous, but they were twelve and autistic and had grown accustomed to the routine they shared with Obi-Wan, so they thought that their feelings were valid). And Pova wanted to hate him.
But as they got to know Cody, as they got to be friends, and then something like family, Pova could no longer bring themself to hate him.
It kind of annoyed them, to be honest.
:::
Observation One: Cody has a limp.
Pova watched distrustfully from their spot on the couch, tucked under one of Rex’s arms. Cody and Obi-Wan were in the too-small kitchen. Obi-Wan had the kettle on to make tea, and Cody had set about to make some sort of breakfast with whatever he could find. They danced around each other like they had done this a hundred times, except that Obi-Wan seemed caught off guard every time Cody favored his left leg.
“Are you hurting?” he finally asked.
Cody hummed his confusion.
“Your leg, dear. Are you hurting?”
“Oh, that,” Cody half-laughed. “I hardly notice it anymore.”
Obi-Wan’s face twisted into an expression Pova had come to recognize as meaning That wasn’t what I asked, but he said nothing else.
“He broke his leg,” Rex said helpfully from his spot on the couch.
“What?” Obi-Wan cried, at the same time that Cody hissed, “Aruetii!”
Pova smiled at Cody’s annoyed expression. This game was rather fun.
“It was months ago,” Cody said. “It just never healed properly. Being a stormtrooper--it was bad.” He didn’t elaborate on that bit, although based on the way Rex’s arm tensed around their shoulders and Obi-Wan’s eyes cast downward, Pova could guess how bad bad was.
“If it didn’t mean breaking it again, I’d try to help it heal properly.” Obi-Wan’s voice was sad, and Pova didn’t like it very much.
“It’s okay, sir,” Cody said, and cupped his hand against Obi-Wan’s cheek. “I’m used to it now.”
Obi-Wan gave him a bit of a glare, and Pova knew he didn’t like Cody’s response one bit.
That night, Pova tore a piece of flimsi out of their class notebook and wrote Observations at the top.
:::
Observation Two: Cody loves Rex.
Rex visited once every few months. He came in with the smugglers and left with the smugglers, and only stayed for a few days at a time. The longest he ever stayed was a ten-day, and that was because he brought Cody with him and wanted to make sure things settled down okay.
But eventually, their two weeks came to an end, and Rex had to go, to help--Pova wasn’t sure who, exactly, because no one would tell them.
Obi-Wan hugged Rex first. “Thank you,” he murmured, just loud enough for Pova to hear.
“Of course, Obi-Wan,” Rex said back, just as soft.
They each clapped each other on the back once or twice, and then Rex let go of Obi-Wan and held his hands out to Pova.
They leaped into his arms, and Rex picked them up, swung them around. “You be good for Obi-Wan and Cody, you hear?” Rex said.
Pova nodded, and pressed their face into Rex’s shoulder. They always hated when Rex left. He gave good hugs and liked to help with Pova’s schoolwork.
It took about twice as long for Rex to put Pova down as it had for him to release Obi-Wan from his hug.
Then Rex held out his arm to Cody.
They clasped forearms just below elbows, and Cody’s eyes were a little watery. He tugged on Rex’s arm, pulling him into a hug.
“I’ll miss you, brother,” Cody whispered.
“Ret’urcye mhi,” Rex replied, just as quiet and breathy.
“K’oyacyi, vod’ika.” A tear slipped past Cody’s lashes--Pova watched from by Obi-Wan’s side.
They stood like that for almost three minutes, and more tears escaped Cody’s eyes.
Finally, Cody pulls back, and places a soft kiss on Rex’s forehead. “If you aren’t back in five months, I’m going after the Empire myself, brother.”
Rex glares at him, but it’s soft. “Not to worry, vod. I’ll be just fine.” He clapped Cody on the shoulder, picked up his pack, and opened the door. “Ret’urcye mhi,” he repeated, giving a last little wave at Pova and Obi-Wan.
When the door closed behind him, Cody watched for a little bit, ignoring Pova’s renewed glare--one they had been sporting just about any time Rex wasn’t in the room with them.
“Come on,” Obi-Wan finally said, voice quiet, placing a hand on Pova’s shoulder. “He’s going to be sad for a little while. He and Rex have always been close.” He guided Pova back to their bedroom, to help with schoolwork and give Cody some time to himself.
:::
Observation Three: Cody’s memory is bad.
Pova woke up on the day Obi-Wan agreed to take them to get their kyber crystal to the smell of eggs cooking on the stove. Eggs were one of Obi-Wan’s favorite things to cook. There was also--they sniffed--fresh bread baking and… caf? Pova hated the smell of caf, and quietly got up to close their door. Just until the caf was gone.
They dressed and wrapped their cloak around themself, listening at the footsteps that padded past their bedroom door and the voices that carried from the kitchen, muffled by the thin layers of durasteel and plaster that made up the structure of the hut.
Pova made their bed and curled up in the corner with their datapad, open to a book about lightsabers that Obi-Wan, miraculously, had saved before… before everything.
The voices in the kitchen got a little louder. Pova glanced up, then made to open their door to see what the commotion was about.
“They’re barely even twelve, Obi,” Cody was saying, gesturing with his spatula. So he was the one making eggs, then.
“Most younglings build their lightsabers when they’re ten or eleven,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “Besides, we’ve been planning for this since you got here. Remember?”
Cody furrowed his brow, frowned at Obi-Wan. His nose scrunched. “I don’t,” he admitted, his voice suddenly quiet again.
Pova couldn’t see Obi-Wan’s face, but they could see his body language--the way his shoulders drooped a little. And they could see Cody’s face, the way it turned from confused to upset.
“I know why I keep forgetting,” Cody said. “But it still bothers me.”
“I understand, my love,” Obi-Wan replied. “Would you like to go over the plan again? Perhaps we can write a note for you in case you forget while we’re away.”
Cody gave him a frustrated grunt, but nodded. “I’m assuming I can’t come with you?”
“Well,” Obi-Wan said, stepping a little closer to Cody, “I suppose you could, but you’ll probably be just as bored out there as you would be here.”
Cody smirked, and Pova realised Obi-Wan was teasing. “Then be safe, Obi-Wan.” He cupped his hand around the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, and pressed their foreheads together. “I’ll see you soon. And if you aren’t back in two weeks--”
“Yes, I know,” Obi-Wan replied, voice gentle with the subtle waver of a laugh. “You’ll go after the Empire yourself. That may be a poor choice, though, don’t you think, love?”
“I don’t really think I care, sir,” Cody said. Then he stepped back, away from Obi-Wan, and waved down the hall at Pova. “Come here, ad. I have some food for you.”
Obi-Wan turned around to watch Pova, who glowered a little at Cody. “Ready to go, little one?”
Pova glared at Cody for a moment more, before turning to Obi-Wan and nodding.
“Alright. I’m just going to write a note for Cody and then we can be off. Will you help him pack our breakfast?”
Will it smell like caf? Pova signed.
Obi-Wan gave Pova an amused smile. “No, I don’t think it will.”
:::
Observation Four: Cody loves Obi-Wan.
The hut was quiet when Obi-Wan and Pova returned. It was dark outside, dark enough to be a little chilly, and even all three moons were down tonight.
Pova was half-asleep when Obi-Wan pulled the speeder up in front of the house to shake them, gently, back awake. “We’re home, little one,” he muttered gently.
Pova blinked a few times and looked up. Obi-Wan smiled down at them, pride shining in his eyes. Pova brought their hand up, tips of their fingers tapping their chin, and arced it down, before spreading their fingers and tapping their forehead with their thumb. Thank you, Papa.
Obi-Wan’s smile turned a little lopsided, and Pova could swear they saw tears in his eyes.
The door to the hut opened behind them, lighting up the sand between the speeder and the house, and Cody stood silhouetted by whatever lamps were on inside. He had a blaster rifle in his hands, but set it down to the side of the door when he saw who it was. “Obi!” he cried, and half-ran the short distance to the speeder.
Obi-Wan laughed, a hearty, happy sound Pova had never heard before. “Yes, Cody,” he said, “I’m here.”
Cody pulled open the door on Obi-Wan’s side of the speeder and tugged Obi-Wan to his feet, and Obi-Wan laughed joyously again. At least, he did until Cody took his face in his hands and pressed their lips together; then Obi-Wan couldn’t really laugh, because he was being kissed (which, Pova thought in their twelve-year-old mind, was kind of gross). He wrapped his arms around Cody’s torso and leaned into the kiss, and Pova decided to just go to bed. They opened the door on their own side of the speeder and went inside.
Cody and Obi-Wan were still kissing when Pova closed the door to the hut. Gross.
:::
Observation Five: Cody has anxiety.
Pova woke up with a start. It felt like there was a weight pressing into their chest, except--not? They reached out for Obi-Wan in the Force, and he was just in the next room, the room he shared with Cody.
Cody was panicking about something.
Pova breathed in and out the way Obi-Wan had taught them, diminishing the effect of Cody’s anxiety on them. Then they got out of bed and went down the hall.
The door was open, which meant Obi-Wan and Cody hadn’t been asleep yet when Cody first started getting anxious. Pova had yet to look at a chrono, but now they knew that it was still relatively early--before midnight.
They stepped into the room and tried their best to project calm, although they were still learning how to do that.
Cody sat up in the bed, head buried in his knees which were drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. His shoulders shook, and Pova could hear tiny gasps and exhalations, like Cody wasn’t quite breathing right. It worried them.
Obi-Wan sat behind him, fretting a little, and wrapped his arms around Cody from behind. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re okay. Gar morut’yc.” He glanced up at Pova and nodded. You can come closer.
Pova stepped further into the room, concentrating very hard on continuing to project their calm into the room. When they stood next to Cody, they reached a hand out to place on one of Cody’s. Cody gave a little gasp of surprise--or maybe fear, Pova wasn’t sure--and looked up. “Okay?” Pova asked, quiet as anything.
Cody made an effort to breathe as he nodded. Then he dropped his head back to his knees.
Pova wrapped their hand around Cody’s, and then had an idea. They tapped their thumb against Cody’s hand and made a show of breathing in and out in time to their beat, a little loudly so Cody could hear.
It took several minutes of tapping before Cody’s breath fully evened out, and several minutes more before he finally looked up again. “Thank you, ad’ika,” he said, and his voice was still shaky, but he had the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You gonna go back to bed soon? It’s late.”
Pova raised an eyebrow at Cody, then schooled their expression to something like pleading to look at Obi-Wan. “Here?” they asked.
Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes with amused suspicion. “You just want to separate Cody and me, don’t you?” he teased.
Pova stuck their tongue out indignantly, and, with their free hand, signed no.
Cody’s little smile grew minutely as he watched the exchange. “Come on, Obi,” he finally said. “The kid gives good cuddles.”
“How would you know?” Obi-Wan teased.
And he had a point. Pova had never actually even touched Cody, except the day that he first showed up (if they thought about it too hard, their hands still hurt a little from trying to punch the block of muscle and plastoid nicknamed Cody).
Cody was breathing almost normally now, though, and Pova gave him a smile. Cody smiled back, and unwrapped his arms from his knees, sure to keep his hand in Pova’s. “Come on, kid. Time for bed.” He tugged Pova toward him, then hefted them up and over to the middle of the bed.
Obi-Wan smiled and slid down next to them. “Good night, little one. Good night, my love.”
It took awhile for Cody’s adrenaline to wear off completely. Pova waited to sleep until they could hear Cody’s soft snores, and knew he would be okay.
:::
Observation Six: Cody likes cooking. And baking.
It was Obi-Wan’s birthday. Pova didn’t keep track of how old Obi-Wan was, only the Galactic Standard Calendar and which day on that calendar was Obi-Wan’s birthday.
Last year, they had barely been on Tatooine for three weeks. Pova hadn’t been able to do much to celebrate for Obi-Wan, but they had spent the day together (Obi-Wan even allowed Pova to take the day off from school).
This year, Pova and Cody had been plotting together, hiding notes around the house for each other so Pova could not talk, since Cody had yet to learn how to sign (he was trying, but with the injury the chip caused to his frontal lobe, it was slow going). They were going to take Obi-Wan into town. Pova would even wear their head covering so they could stay in town longer.
First, though, was breakfast.
Pova woke up early and, immediately upon getting dressed and making their bed, went to the kitchen. On their last trip into town, Cody and Pova had gotten a carton of eggs and a package of bacon. They had jogan fruit and a fruit juice Pova didn’t quite recognize, but had tried at the stand and liked.
They set about setting up the kitchen to make breakfast, and after a few minutes (and more than one bonk on the head due to a lack of spatial awareness), Cody came in to join them.
“That’s quite the knot you have there,” Cody teased with a soft voice.
Pova turned around and stuck their tongue out at him.
“Alright, kid, alright.” Cody considered the food laid out in front of him. “You can use a knife, yeah?”
Pova raised an eyebrow and gestured at the lightsaber attached to their hip, unimpressed with Cody’s observational skills.
“Just making sure. Want to be in charge of cracking the eggs and cutting up the jogans?”
Pova pointed at the stove.
“I heard you hit your head while you were getting everything set up. Not to be that guy, kiddo, but I’m not letting you near the hot appliance.” But Cody was smiling, and Pova thought he was probably making fun of them.
Pova shrugged and turned back toward the counter to crack a few eggs into the bowl.
“Remember to leave some for the cake,” Cody instructed.
Pova waved their hand dismissively.
Cody snorted behind their back. The sound was followed by some clattering, then the smell of gas and the click of the stove lighting up.
Pova scrunched their nose and focused on the smell of the eggs, the act of scrambling them with a fork.
Something--probably bacon--sizzled on the stove. It smelled better than the gas.
Pova turned around with the bowl and handed it to Cody, who grinned and ruffled Pova’s hair.
“Thanks, kid.”
Pova shrugged, and nodded, and then smiled a little bit before turning back around to the counter. They gathered up the eggshells to crush into a calcium powder later--it was good for the succulents Obi-Wan liked to grow. Then they pulled down the cutting board.
That’s when the humming started.
Pova looked up from the cutting board, where they had just set the first jogan fruit to cut into slices, and turned around.
They weren’t surprised that Cody was the one humming, seeing as he was the only other one in the kitchen, but they were surprised that Cody was humming. He was smiling down at his work, and the song he hummed was unfamiliar to Pova. When he started actually singing, though, Pova recognized the language as Mando’a. Cody and Obi-Wan liked to speak it to each other when they didn’t want Pova listening in, and Cody and Rex spoke it to each other--well, whenever Rex was visiting.
They reached out to Cody and tugged on his sleeve, and he looked down and stopped singing for a moment. Pova cocked their head to the side, a question.
“What’s up, kid?”
Pova pursed their lips. Cody was still having a hard time signing, and Pova was completely nonverbal today. Eventually, they decided to just draw the letters in the air: weak-herf-yirt. Why?
“Why what?” Cody asked. “Why am I singing?”
Pova nodded.
Cody shrugged. “I suppose it’s because I’m happy. I’m cooking for my cyare--don’t tell him I called him that, though.”
Pova raised an eyebrow, gave him a long look.
“Sometimes you’re verbal,” Cody defended himself. “Do you want to know the song?”
Pova nodded again.
“It’s a war chant called Vode An. It means ‘Brothers All’. I don’t know many other songs--I only grew up with that one, really.”
Pova turned around, nodding to indicate they were still listening, and worked on cutting the jogan fruits.
“We sometimes used to listen to the radio while we were in hyperspace,” Cody continued. “But I never heard the songs enough to get to know them. I was always busy, spent most of my waking time off the bridge doing paperwork with Obi-Wan. He liked instrumental music while we worked, so I only really know Vode An.”
Pova hummed an acknowledgement, and then the kitchen fell silent but for the sound of sizzling bacon, the knife hitting the cutting board, and Cody’s quiet humming.
:::
Observation Seven: Cody loves me.
It was pretty rare for Pova to get into fights with anyone.
Still, they were getting older, and more hormonal, and more emotional, and it happened.
Most often, it happened at school--they now attended a mainstream school in town, except everyone seemed to think that because they didn’t talk, they were stupid, or a pushover. Even their teachers tried to pressure them into speaking out loud, despite the documents specifically stating their disability and why they didn’t have to answer questions verbally or give oral presentations.
But today was the anniversary, and Pova was not in the mood for everything their teachers and classmates threw at them--the name calling, the mockery of their stimming (which had gotten more noticeable at school than it had ever been before).
And Pova had signed, angrily, at one of their classmates.
Before punching him.
And getting sent home early.
Which was not great, because Obi-Wan worked from home, and Cody worked at one of the cantinas for almost the exact hours Pova was in school.
Pova scowled and shoved their hands in their pockets, waiting outside the building for school to end and Cody to show up. Which would probably be another two or three hours.
Except that it wasn’t, because when the sound of a speeder caught Pova’s attention about thirty minutes into their isolation outside, they looked up to see it was the family’s speeder.
Cody stopped the speeder in his normal spot and got out.
Pova didn’t like the look on his face--it reminded them too much of…. They curled in on themself and fought the tears from pricking their eyes.
They could feel Cody’s signature soften in the Force.
“Whoa, Pova,” Cody said softly, and made to sit next to them, within arm’s reach but not touching. “Did I scare you?”
Pova didn’t do or say anything, didn’t even nod.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cody said when Pova didn’t respond. “I probably looked like my brothers just now, though, huh?”
Their reply was to turn their head further away from Cody.
“Yeah. I thought that might be it. Sorry, ad’ika.”
Pova shrugged.
“You want to tell me what happened?”
Pova pointedly resumed their non-responsiveness.
“I just left work early because I got a comm saying my kid punched another kid at school,” Cody said. “I know what today is. I know it brings up a lot of bad memories. I know the kids at school aren’t always nice to you. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I’m driving home and need to know you aren’t going to take your anger out on me while we’re in the speeder.”
Pova finally turned to face Cody directly. Why would I do that? they signed.
Cody tilted his head, unamused. “Because I don’t know if you decided to attack a student or if you got fed up and were defending yourself. If you were defending yourself, you’ll probably still be in trouble for initiating the physical fighting, but it will be a lot safer for me to drive and a lot less trouble for you in general.”
Pova huffed out a long breath. He was making fun of my stimming. I was already having a bad day. I punched him. It’s whatever.
“It’s not whatever,” Cody pointed out. “You got suspended. But you’re not in trouble with me or Obi-Wan until we can have a talk, and that talk is not going to be today because today is a bad day.” He sighed. “For all of us, Pov’ika.”
Pova looked away, a little guilty.
“None of that, kid. I get it. You’re thirteen. You’re traumatized. It sucks. It’s not your fault. Well, it is, but considering how I was raised, I don’t think I would have responded much better.” Cody let out a harsh chuckle. “Now come here, ad.”
Pova glanced back up, and Cody was holding out his arms, so Pova crawled the short distance over and let themself be wrapped up in Cody’s embrace.
Thank you, they signed. And then, after a moment, the open hand touching the forehead. Dad.
Pova didn’t know for sure, but they could swear they heard Cody sniff back tears as he buried his face in their hair.
:::
Observation Eight: Cody’s anxiety is not bad.
Cody didn’t watch horror ‘vids with Pova and Obi-Wan. None of the jump-scare stuff, or the anticipation stuff. Pova liked them because they liked the adrenaline (they weren’t going to tell Obi-Wan or Cody, but they were a bit of an adrenaline junkie, and were constantly potentially dangerous stunts without a spotter on the obstacle course Cody had built for them). Obi-Wan simply didn’t care--regardless of the genre or how much he claimed to like the holovid, he was down for the count in the first half-hour, which had prompted them to move ‘vid night into his bedroom even before Cody arrived. But even though Cody would watch just about anything else, he didn’t watch horror ‘vids.
Cody didn’t go out into the desert on his own. His forgetfulness scared him, he said, and even though he was a strong fighter and a good shot with a blaster, there was some comfort to having a person with a lightsaber by his side in the vast emptiness of Tatooine. He either stayed home with a note written to him to remind him where Obi-Wan and Pova were, in case he forgot, or he went with one or both of them. On school days, he drove out to town with Pova. He never went out into the desert on his own.
And Cody saw a therapist. She was nice--Pova had met her once or twice, and she was a Sullustan whose big eyes scrunched up when she smiled and who made sure to use Pova’s pronouns and even helped Cody practice signing, back when he had such a hard time with it. (He still occasionally forgot words or phrases, and Pova would have to fingerspell or draw them in the air or write on flimsiplast, but with her help he had gotten pretty good, and even started teaching Pova ARC hand signs in return.) He talked to her every week, and always came back a little deflated and tired, but the week after was always better, somehow. So Cody kept seeing his therapist.
Despite all this, and the fact that he didn’t take meds like Obi-Wan did for his own depression and anxiety, Cody rarely had anxiety and panic attacks.
They happened. And they were just as unpleasant as Obi-Wan’s or Pova’s. Pova wasn’t about to dismiss Cody’s anxiety as less valid or less anything, really, except maybe severe. It was definitely less severe. (Actually, Pova didn’t even like using that phrase, until Cody himself said his anxiety wasn’t bad.)
Cody even knew why his anxiety wasn’t as bad as it could be: he had been bred to be more resilient to mental stresses, and his memories of his time in the Empire were a jumbled mess anyway after having the inhibitor chip removed. His memory of the Clone Wars was still pretty well intact, but, traumatic as they were, they were nothing on the Empire. He thought. He wasn’t actually sure, since the bulk of his Imperial memories were feelings and not experiences. But he knew it wasn’t as bad as it could be, and he said as much.
Still, sometimes Cody had an anxiety attack or a panic attack, and Pova or Obi-Wan was always there. Pova would hold his hand, rub their thumb across the back of it. Obi-Wan would wrap his arms around his something (Pova was pretty sure they were married, except they had never said so directly) and squeezed and held him for all he was worth.
And then Cody would eventually feel better, and press a kiss to Pova’s forehead and lace his fingers with Obi-Wan, and thank them for being there for him.
He had anxiety, sure. But even without medications, he didn’t feel it every single day. So, he told Pova, it wasn’t bad.
“Be sure to add that to your list of observations about me,” he joked.
You know about that?
“You’ve left it in your pocket when I’ve done your laundry,” Cody explained, and ruffled Pova’s hair at the look of embarrassment. “It’s good, kid. I think it’s kind of fun.”
:::
Observation Nine: Cody likes having a last name.
There was a court on Tatooine besides the Hutts, much to the surprise of anyone who hasn’t lived there for more than a year. They controlled very little--the Hutts were the law, in this area of the Outer Rim--but they did control and keep track of marriages and adoptions.
Cody was positively beaming as they left the court. “Cody Ibonek,” he said, grinning at Obi-Wan, who grinned back.
Pova predicted kissing in the near future.
“Yes, dear,” Obi-Wan said, not at all exasperated even though this was the fifth time since all the papers were signed that Cody had said something.
“I have a last name.”
Did you not have a last name before? Pova signed.
“No,” Cody replied, dropping back into reality for a moment. “In fact, for the first few years of my life, I didn’t have a name at all. Just a designation number.”
Pova stuck their tongue out. I’m glad you have a name now.
“Me too.” And then Cody grinned again. “Ibonek. Just like you and O--Ben.”
Obi-Wan smiled and reached out to hold Cody’s hand. “You’re one of us, now, my love.”
He always was, Pova argued.
If it was possible, Cody’s grin spread wider.
“Pova Ibonek and Ben Ibonek and Cody Ibonek.”
“Yes, dear,” Obi-Wan repeated.
Pova turned so that only Obi-Wan could see their signing. He’s not going to stop anytime soon, is he?
Obi-Wan just laughed, and the sound was all warm and hearty and happy, just like Cody’s voice.
“Cody Ibonek.”
:::
Observation Ten: Cody is family.
Obi-Wan curled up on the couch with an old-fashioned flimsiplast book in his hands. Cody sat next to him, leaning backwards into his something. Pova made tea in the kitchen, watching the kettle, trying to predict the exact second it would start steaming and whistling. This was one of their favorite games.
Pova jumped at the sound of a book slamming shut.
“Osik, Obi-Wan,” Cody swore, and based on his tone, Pova knew he had jumped too.
They turned around to stare from the kitchen into the living room
“Let’s get married,” Obi-Wan said.
Cody’s voice was flat when he said, “Let’s do what now,” more like a statement than a question.
“We’re already family according to Tatooine’s laws. Let’s get married and adopt Pova according to our customs.”
“Right now?”
“Why not?”
I’m all for you adopting me, Pova signed rapidly, but it shouldn’t be spur-of-the-moment like this.
Cody snorted then. “Pova, you’ve been wearing your silka beads at home every day since I met you. He adopted you long ago.”
Pova paused to consider this, then turned his attention to Cody. What about you, then?
Cody’s gaze suddenly got soft. “Do you want me to adopt you?”
Pova didn’t have to even think about that. Of course, Dad. But only when you’re ready.
“Pov’ika,” Cody said, and his voice sounded choked, and Pova was a little concerned they had done something wrong until he continued, “if I had known that, I would have adopted you that day in town with the water vendor.”
Pova’s own throat went tight at the confession.
“So it’s settled,” Obi-Wan said. “Come here, little one. I’ll adopt you by Mandalorian customs, too, if you would like.”
“What are Jedi marriage customs?” Cody asked then, turning back to Obi-Wan.
Pova took the kettle off and crossed the short distance from the kitchen to the couch, and curled up against Cody.
“It is rare, though not unheard of, for Jedi to marry each other. It’s more common for us to follow the customs of our spouse, and then to offer an object of meaning. We would exchange the riduurok, as that is the Mandalorian custom, and then I would share with you a bracelet of silka beads or a kyber crystal from an old lightsaber.”
“Do you have a kyber crystal from an old lightsaber?” Cody asked, and his tears were flowing freely now. Pova reached up to brush them away.
“No,” Obi-Wan admitted, “I’ve only ever had the one, and I didn’t think to make a silka bead bracelet. But give me just a moment--I have something else.”
He stood up and dislodged both Cody and Pova, leaving them surprised and reeling in his wake. They heard rustling from the bedroom, and then Obi-Wan returned, his fist tight around something small. He pocketed the thing without letting either of them see it, and then cupped his hands on either side of Cody’s face, pressing their foreheads together, angled so that their noses were touching as well, and then he spoke again. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.”
Cody didn’t have time to join him, so when Obi-Wan breathed, and Pova saw that he was crying too, Cody repeated after him. “Mhi solus tome,” and he could already hardly speak, “mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.” He put his hands up, rested them over Obi-Wan’s, and closed his eyes for a moment, allowing more tears to escape.
“I have something for you,” Obi-Wan reminded him after a long moment, and Cody finally released his hands. Obi-Wan pulled the little thing out of his pocket and held it out.
It was an orange crystal which vibrated weakly in the Force--Pova could feel it from where they sat, watching--and was shaped something like Pova’s kyber crystal. But they had never seen a naturally orange kyber crystal before.
“What is it?” Cody asked, reaching out to take it in his hand, pressing his thumb against the smooth surface.
“It’s a kohlen crystal. When I went to Pijal with my master, they replaced my kyber crystal with this in an effort to foil our mission; only, by doing so, they actually helped us to succeed. Sort of,” he added as an afterthought. “I kept it.”
Cody’s breathing hitched, and he stood up to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan. “Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum,” he murmured.
They stayed like that for a long time, and Pova was beginning to wonder if they should let them have some time together before worrying about adoption. But then, as if on agreement, they both turned to face their little Mirialan companion.
“Pova,” Cody said softly, “by taking you as his Padawan, Obi-Wan has adopted you according to Jedi customs. I will adopt you by Mandalorian customs. Is that okay?”
Pova nodded, and there were tears in their eyes again.
“Okay.” Cody let go of Obi-Wan completely and moved to kneel in front of Pova, taking their hands in his. “What I am about to say in Mando’a means ‘I know your name as my child’. It’s the Mandalorian adoption vow. In Mandalorian culture, similar to Jedi culture, adopted family means more than blood family. You are my child, and I will take care of you as long as I live. Ready, now?” He stared into Pova’s eyes, and Pova only glanced down at his cheekbones. They noticed the little affectionate smile Cody got on his face when they did that. “Okay. Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad.” He let go of Pova’s hands and pulled them into a hug. “I love you, Pova.”