Chapter Text
The sun shone brightly over Mandalore’s tourney fields, and Obi-Wan was not immune to the rising air of excitement as midmorning approached.
King Jango had yet to make his appearance, but the vendors had had their stalls set up for hours now, offering steaming drinks and roasted meats tucked into convenient little bundles of bread. Others harkened with shade-stands for those who hadn’t arrived early enough for their choice of seats, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile when he saw Anakin at the Amidala’s stall, despite the awning already covering their row.
Usually, Obi-Wan didn’t get to see this part of the festivities. He’d be inspecting his armor with his fellow knights, chatting quietly with Cody and their peers as everyone prepared for the day’s competitions. Or, in the case of the Fetts’ squire’s, ran a betting ring involving everything from the order knights would be eliminated in, to the color of favor Sir Ponds might be wearing this month.
Obi-Wan shifted where he sat. It wasn’t that he especially wanted to compete today, this monthly tourney wasn’t anything of significance and Obi-Wan did understand the importance of allowing his ankle time to heal after last week’s fall. It was just that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his time before the match.
Anakin had been extremely attentive when they first arrived, fetching a stool for him to prop his leg up with and hastening to fetch him wares from the food stalls; but he had long since abandoned him to flirt with Lord Amidala’s eldest, and observing the crowd around him did lose appeal after a while. Obi-Wan would have an ideal view of the jousting once it began, but for now he was quite without distraction amidst all the revelry.
“Well that’s a fine face for a holiday. Something the matter?”
Obi-Wan startled at the familiar voice, feeling a pleased grin spread across his face as he turned and saw Cody leaning against the arena fence. Cody had already donned his armor, with the exception of the helm currently hanging from a hook at his waist, and for all that beskar gleamed beautifully on all of Mandalore’s knights, Obi-Wan thought it shone especially brightly on Cody.
“Oh no, not particularly.” Obi-Wan smiled wryly. “I just seem to be at a bit of a loss when I’m not the one preparing to throw people from their horses I suppose.”
Cody relaxed, leaning forwards even more to be easily heard over the crowd. “I’ll make sure to throw them extra hard then, just for you. Can’t let anyone think they’re getting off easy with you out of commission after all.”
Obi-Wan laughed and inclined his head with exaggerated graciousness. “Why thank you Sir Fett, most kind of you. Now would such kindness allow me a moment to readjust myself, to better converse with such an esteemed warrior?” Carefully, he stood on his right leg and rotated in place, so he could now sit on the stool against the fence and rest his left ankle of the bench he’d just been seated on.
“But of course, Sir Kenobi, I live to serve those who cannot serve themselves.” Cody lifted his arms to give a half bow, quirking his eyebrows impolitely at Obi-Wan as he did so. “Speaking of which, where’s your squire?”
“He is performing valuable reconnaissance by consulting the local population, since neither of us are overly familiar with this side of things.” Years of diplomacy training allowed Obi-Wan to maintain a straight face.
“He’s over there flirting with Padmé, isn’t he.”
“If you can call complaining about sand flirting then yes, absolutely,”
Cody shook his head with exasperated fondness as the two of them watched Anakin lean close to tuck a flower behind Padmé’s ear, only for his glove to snag in her elaborately braided hair.
“He does know he could just ask her to consider him a potential suitor, right? Pretty sure she shares his affections if she’s willing to put up with all of that.”
“Oh yes, but then he wouldn’t have a properly dramatic tale to tell their children, now would he?” Obi-Wan huffed, though the smile didn’t leave his face. “We’re all hoping he’s just waiting to pass his knighting quests, and nothing more extreme, before he asks for her favor.”
Cody stiffened in place. Obi-Wan shot him an inquiring look, but Cody only shook himself and gave Obi-Wan a tight smile.
“Speaking of favors…” Cody reached further down the fence, where Obi-Wan hadn’t even noticed his lance braced against it while they talked. Cody hoisted it up and held it horizontally, with the base extended towards Obi-Wan. “…I was wondering if I might have yours.”
Obi-Wan blinked.
“I know it’s not normally the done thing with two knights, since that might lead to some unfairness in the melee rounds, but, well, it’s not like you can compete today so no one could accuse us of that, and— “
“You want my favor? Me, specifically?” Obi-Wan almost wondered if he’d succumbed to his earlier boredom and might now be dreaming.
“Yes.”
“For some sort of prank on the betting books? Or, or perhaps…” Obi-Wan couldn’t quite make himself say his hopes aloud, but maybe he wasn’t the only one who had been feeling a growing sense of connection between them.
Cody smiled, and someone who knew him less well wouldn’t have noticed the way his shoulders tightened with nerves. “Or, most certainly, because I enjoy your company and would like to seek it out more often, because I like your smile and your sly comments and the way you can’t for the life of you show up on time when your duties aren’t at stake. Because I like you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and would like to wear your favor on this field and any other.”
It wouldn’t do for a Mandalorian knight to cry in public, so if any passerby happened to see Obi-Wan, clearly his eyes were just watering from straining his injury.
Obi-Wan lifted his hand to the back of his head, where he’d carefully plaited his hair out of the way earlier that morning, and tugged loose the teal ribbon. “Would this do?”
Cody’s smile could have lit a castle in the midst of winter. “That will do beautifully.”
Again, he extended the base of his lance towards Obi-Wan, and their fingers brushed as Obi-Wan reached eager hands to tie his hair ribbon in place below the circular grip guard. Once, twice, three times he wrapped it around, and fastened it with a knot they’d learned together as squires.
Horns blared out, signaling for the contestants to take their places and the audience their seats, so Cody bid him a hasty farewell and promised to come find him again once the tourney was done and the victors declared. He had just turned away when Obi-Wan reached across the fence to grasp his pauldron, pulling him back against the fence.
“Cody? Good luck.” Obi-Wan crossed the last bit of distance between them and kissed him on the cheek. He pulled back and burst into delighted laughter at the sheer shock expressed on Cody’s face, before Obi-Wan pushed against his chestplate. “Hurry on now, Sir Fett, your squire is calling. And perhaps, should you do especially well today, we might then discuss what other favors of mine you might desire”.