Chapter Text
Sir Obi-Wan Kenobi of the Order of the Round Table would never forget the day he met Anakin Skywalker for the first time. Arthur had returned from his visit to the island country of Naboo nearly two weeks later than expected. According to the King, he and his company had been caught in bad weather and shipwrecked on their way back to Coruscant; it was the quick thinking of a young slave named Anakin that saved the lives of the crew. In return for his heroism, Arthur had spent the last of his travel funds securing Anakin’s freedom from a grim-faced blacksmith.
To the King's utter delight and surprise, Anakin turned out to be a naturally talented swordsman. For this reason, Arthur assigned the most patient and detail-oriented member of the Order to guide Anakin on his clear path to knighthood: Sir Obi-Wan Kenobi. Obi-Wan also happened to be one of the more recent additions to the Court of Coruscant, and Arthur’s obvious show of trust had him shaken to the core.
“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan had asked, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.
Arthur had placed one of his steady hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, smiled in that wise way of his, and replied: “As sure as the sun rises in the east, Obi-Wan Kenobi, I want you to train Anakin into the knight we both know he can be.”
Obi-Wan had barely finished his term as Qui-Gon’s squire before Anakin was assigned to serve at his side. To have been an active knight for less than a year and have a squire under one’s advisement was unheard of… yet Obi-Wan took great care to fulfill his duties as Anakin’s mentor and swordmaster to the best of his ability. He taught the rambunctious teenager everything he knew about weaponry, horses, and the care and keeping of both. “If your horse is lame and your armor is brittle then there’s no point in going into battle at all. Just fall on your sword and save yourself the shame of being cut down by an enemy blade.”
“That seems a bit extreme,” Anakin had huffed, full of the swagger and confidence of youth. “But don’t you have a squire to care for your things?”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan smiled. “Because I worked hard for many years to take care of my Master’s things. I remember vividly how heavy a breastplate feels after you’ve spent all day training in the yard and caring for the horses. I won’t treat you unfairly, Anakin, but I will hold you to the King’s standards.”
“I understand,” Anakin answered solemnly. For all his energy, creativity, and curiosity, Anakin could be extremely serious when it was least expected.
But that had been years ago, and now Anakin served alongside Obi-Wan as a Knight of the Order, with a squire of his own - a headstrong girl from the noble Tano family, Ahsoka. All things considered, Obi-Wan couldn’t be more proud of the man Anakin had grown into…
Nor could he be more frustrated by him.
Everyone in Coruscant seemed to enjoy being around Anakin Skywalker, from the sweet-tempered cook’s apprentice to the finicky Lords and Ladies of the court. Everyone liked the brash young knight with the winning smile , and that number begrudgingly included his former Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Anakin’s charismatic nature was one of his better qualities, especially considering his quick temper and forgetfulness, but the downside of the younger man’s magnetic personality was Anakin’s tendency to flirt with whatever sentient being happened to be closest. It was wonderful to see his ex-squire doing so well for himself and having a vibrant social presence at court, but Obi-Wan was a jealous creature. He didn't necessarily enjoy sharing his ex-squire's fleeting attentions.
Still, he wouldn’t hold the younger man back with his selfishness and greed. Anakin preened, loving the constant attention and praise of his peers and teachers. The young man trained hard and competed even harder to earn their approval, gaining a reputation for his tactical skills on the battlefield and his ferocity in the jousting ring. People cheered and shouted the Skywalker name when he rode through towns; admiring artists painted likenesses of him for distribution, highlighting his long blonde curls, blue eyes, and sharp jawline. The besotted painters always seemed to give him an air of mystery and power, like a prince from a child’s pamphlet of stories.
Obi-Wan understood that his Chivalric Vows called him to value and protect the King’s life above all else, but the senior knight knew that if it came down to a split-second decision, Anakin’s safety would always be his first priority.
It was Anakin, always Anakin, at the forefront of his mind.
“Do you think she really likes me?” Anakin asked, leaning back against his horse’s water trough. The big grey stallion butted its nose against Anakin's shoulder and he reached back lazily to pet his horse. “She hasn’t given me a real token yet, but I think she likes me.”
“I don’t know why it matters,” Obi-Wan huffed. He continued to run the wire brush through his horse’s mane with care and precision, gently removing any tangles. “You’re still far too young for marriage.”
“You really don't think the King would accept my petition to marry her? He married the Queen when he was younger than me. Hell, he pulled the sword from the stone when he was only twelve!”
“Yes, but he’s the King. Have things really come that far along between the two of you? Do you think you’re ready to marry Lady Amidala? And will her parents accept your suit, with you being untitled and sworn to the King’s service for six more years?”
Obi-Wan tried to keep his expression neutral and his breathing even; he didn’t want to think about Anakin leaving their shared quarters in the barracks. He didn’t want to think about Anakin curling up against the pretty young ambassador at night, holding her in those arms - arms that Obi-Wan knew could wield a sword or mace or spear with very little effort. Arms that had carried him to safety, arms that he had wrapped around his own neck as he carried Anakin out of harm’s way…
No, he certainly didn’t want to think about that.
“Obi-Wan, have you been listening?” Anakin’s impatient voice broke through his senior officer’s reverie.
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
“I said that I don’t think we’re ready to be married yet.”
“Good,” Obi-Wan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “I'm glad you agree.”
Anakin’s fascination with Padme passed quickly enough, as did his brief entanglements with Sir Rex, a local barmaid, and one of the blacksmith’s rather chatty apprentices.
Obi-Wan was in hell.
Every evening the young knight returned to their room with mussed hair and bright eyes, a smile playing on the corners of his mouth. It was the kind of smile that always made Obi-Wan’s blood boil in his veins. He wanted to make Anakin smile like that. He wanted to kiss Anakin's lips until they were red and slick and shining. He wanted to run his calloused hands through the young knight’s hair until it looked like new-baled hay. He wanted-
He wanted Anakin.
As if sensing his very thoughts, the other man glanced up and raised a curious eyebrow. “Master?”
“Yes?”
“Are you alright? You looked rather angry for a moment.”
“My apologies,” Obi-Wan bowed slightly out of habit. “I pulled a muscle during training and it’s still rather sore.”
“You’re getting old,” Anakin winked. Obi-Wan’s gut churned and he tried his best to smile, to hide the agony of never being good enough for the man he loved. Not even Anakin's next words could fully balm the wound his joke inflicted: “It’s a good thing I’ll always be here to watch your back.”
Despite an uptick in tender moments between the two, Obi-Wan still found himself endlessly frustrated by his cohort’s flirtatious ways. Everywhere he looked, Anakin was making doe-eyes at some ambassador, knight-initiate, or courtier. It was getting under his skin; so Obi-Wan made a plan to obtain and keep Anakin’s attention - with some help from Rex, Cody, and Ahsoka, of course. It took at least a week of arguing, negotiating, and reigning in Ahsoka's increasingly dramatic and extravagant ideas, but eventually the team of knights concocted a worthy scheme.
“You have a secret admirer,” Ahsoka teased, sticking her tongue out at her Master as they polished up their weapons after sparring. “And I’m not going to tell you who it is.”
“Alright,” Anakin shrugged. The young knight knew that he drew people’s attention; he couldn’t help it, he was charming… Still, he never could manage to enchant the man who held his heart. The man he loved more than anyone else: his former Master, Sir Obi-Wan Kenobi. He tucked his dagger back into his belt and shook his hair out of his eyes, rolling them for emphasis. “I have more important things to worry about than which lady wants me to wear her token to my next tournament.”
Ahsoka frowned and passed a furtive glance to Cody, who coughed and elbowed Rex in the ribs. “I would want to know about this one if I were you.”
Cody’s twin nodded, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “Me, too. This isn’t just any fainting maiden waiting to bat her eyelashes at the Hero With No Fear. This message comes from a fellow member of the Order.”
Anakin’s curiosity was piqued. He crossed his arms over his chest and drew himself up to his full height, trying to intimidate the people who had once seen him cry over a litter of kittens. “Who is it, then?”
“He’s agreed to meet with you in secret, at midnight tonight near the western gate.”
“Are you seriously telling me that a mysterious knight of the Order wants me to fight my way through fifty solid bramble bushes at midnight to meet him at the western gate for a romantic rendezvous?” Anakin scoffed. “Forget it. You didn’t even try to make this seem like anything other than a jest.”
“It’s not a jest!” Ahsoka stomped her foot imperiously. “It’s a very serious and adorable romantic tryst in the woods and I didn’t go through the painstaking process of planning it for you not to show up, Master!”
Anakin blinked owlishly in surprise. Ahsoka’s chest was rising and falling rapidly and her nostrils flared. She had a white-knuckled grip on her training sword, as if waiting for her Master to give her an excuse to pull it from the sheath. Anakin gulped and nodded his understanding. “Alright, 'Soka. I’ll be there.”
Ahsoka’s mood changed instantly, her scowl transforming into a bright and sunny smile. She clapped her hands beneath her chin and bounced once on the balls of her feet. “Excellent! Good afternoon, then, Master. Rex, Cody, shall we?”
As Anakin watched his compatriots walk away, he felt rather as if he’d just withstood a hurricane using only a lady’s tea umbrella for protection.