Work Text:
One week after Life Day, Obi-Wan Kenobi strode into the Jedi Temple with a disgruntled loth-cat perched on his shoulder. The sight drew attention all the way up to the council chamber, sparking rumors that Obi-Wan had finally taken on a new Padawan.
Right up until most people saw how the loth-cat curled its tail around Obi-Wan's neck and batted his beard pettily. And then most people went oh in understanding, regardless that Anakin’s status was supposed to be a secret.
Obi-Wan, if he’d heard the rumors, would have ruefully laughed.
To be fair (and he was trying to be), the incident hadn’t been Anakin’s fault. The real culprit was sitting sheepishly in the Temple library, poring over yet another tome on holocrons as though it might make the whole ordeal disappear. Ahsoka had found the artifact, but it was Anakin who had shielded her from its blast at the last moment.
Moments later, she was fine, but her master had…
Well. Obi-Wan’s heart had shriveled up in his chest until he’d realized Anakin wasn’t dead. Just very fluffy, and very pissed off.
“Do you have to sit like that every time we go out?” Obi-Wan murmured, tilting his head as Anakin padded down the hall, claws tapping against polished marble. The sound was sharp, somehow oddly dignified, as if to say: You’d better make the best of this because I am. Just look at how I’m managing on three paws.
And yet, the one paw—that missing right—was a stinging reminder. In his true form, Anakin wore his mech-arm with pride. Constantly fiddling with it, improving it. But as a loth-cat, with no available prosthetic, he was lopsided, hobbling with every second step, even as he tried to mask the unevenness.
Obi-Wan felt the prickling weight of frustration mixed with amusement—a sensation pressing against his mind, a huff of self-deprecating warmth that came from Anakin himself. Over the past months their bond had restrengthened; there was no hiding anything now, distance between thought and feeling had all but vanished.
As it should be.
When he entered the kitchen, Anakin glared up at him with narrowed blue eyes, broadcasting a single, unmistakable image: Obi-Wan laughing and pointing at him
“You’re being dramatic,” Obi-Wan protested. Not entirely fair, perhaps, since he had struggled not to laugh at the Council meeting yesterday when Anakin pounced on Mace’s robe.
That lapse aside, Obi-Wan had maintained the picture of professionalism—even as Deepa tried to tempt Anakin closer with the promise of an ear scratch.
The more Obi-Wan thought about it, the funnier it became, though Anakin’s growl when the Council admitted they had no idea how to turn him back had quickly sobered him.
“Tell me, dearest: blue milk or caf?”
Anakin’s look was unimpressed. He stayed grumpy until Obi-Wan poured blue milk into one of his teacup saucers, after which he settled to daintily lap it up, his grumbling echoing through their bond.
While Ahsoka served her self-imposed punishment in the library, Obi-Wan planned to spend the day in his apartment, scrolling through records on his tablet for clues about how long this transformation might last, as it couldn’t be forever. The Force would never allow such a thing.
In the meantime, though, the quiet was peaceful, a reprieve from the constant strain of war. Obi-Wan sat on the sofa while Anakin curled in his lap, a reassuring weight that seemed to say, I’m still here.
Of course you are, Obi-Wan thought, letting the words pulse softly through their bond as he stroked the cat’s fur. You’d never leave me behind.
Anakin butted his head against Obi-Wan’s palm, his ears twitching.
Late-afternoon sunlight streamed through the Coruscant window, painting Anakin’s fur in warm hues, drawing honeyed gold from brown as he lay nestled like a heartbeat against Obi-Wan’s chest. Obi-Wan ran his fingers lightly down Anakin’s back. He’d loved Anakin in one way or another throughout almost their entire relationship, found him exasperating and delightful and terrifying, a constant opportunity for Obi-Wan to completely screw up everything.
But war had a way of drawing out what lay dormant, honing it into a weapon that could cut both ways. The abrupt end of their training—too early, Obi-Wan had thought, Anakin hadn’t been ready yet for knighthood, and far too young to be a general—had left a deep wound.
And when that wound had finally healed, their relationship was completely different. Changed into something wonderful and worrying in equal parts. Worrying for all that it implied, how contrary it ran to everything Obi-Wan had been taught, everything he’d then passed on to Anakin, but that was hard to remember when they were together.
Because even like this their souls fit together. Each brush of his hand along Anakin’s fur reminded him that Anakin’s bright mind was present, fiercely attuned to his own.
Anakin pushed contentment at him, interlaced with an image of them sparring on a long-forgotten field, trading barbs and blows.
“I’m fairly sure I won that one,” Obi-Wan said. He received an exaggerated flick of Anakin’s tail in response.
A few minutes later they both looked up expectantly towards the door. “You can come in, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan called out.
There was a pause, and then Ahsoka walked in, shoulders hunched. She stopped in the middle of the sitting room, glancing at Anakin, who blinked up at her from Obi-Wan's lap, his gaze a slow, assessing sweep.
"Master Kenobi, I came to see if—er. Well, I wanted to apologize again, and to see if Skyguy..." She trailed off.
Leaping, Anakin hobbled over to her, nosing her shin. A smile broke out over Ahsoka’s face, and she knelt down to rub between the loth-cat’s ears, whispering, "Thanks, Skyguy."
Lunch passed in camaraderie, conversation not all that stilted when Anakin could reply either through the bonds he shared with them, or through his unflinching embrace of all of a loth-cat’s worst habits.
When Obi-Wan teased him, Anakin batted at Obi-Wan’s cup and knocked it over, all while maintaining steady eye contact.
Obi-Wan sighed and wiped down the spill with a napkin. “Anakin. If you can’t behave, I won’t let you eat on the table anymore.”
Anakin scowled.
Ahsoka cackled. “Stars, I didn’t even know loth-cats could do that!” She grinned when that same scowl got turned onto her. “We should take a holovideo and upload it!"
Anakin's scowl deepened.
That night, Obi-Wan lay in bed with Anakin curled close beside him.
He lay awake long after Anakin dozed off, one hand on the rise and fall of abdomen, the rhythm keeping him steady. He missed Anakin’s real body, the strength of his long limbs and the timbre of his voice. Missed resting his ear over Anakin’s chest to listen to his heartbeat.
The Code was correct; regret was a heavy burden to carry. It sat uncomfortably over Obi-Wan's rib cage, compressing his lungs. He didn’t resent Ahsoka for what happened. He didn’t even blame himself for not being quick enough to realize the danger.
What he did regret was that if Anakin never changed back, was that he hadn't kissed him more. Hadn't tangled his fingers through Anakin's curls at every opportunity. Hadn't heard his voice in his ear a thousand more times. Hadn't worshiped the beauty mark next to his mouth nearly enough times.
Every moment he’d let pass without doing what he wanted—it didn’t feel like enough now, but he’d make do with this, and be grateful for it.
“I love you, Anakin,” he whispered into the stillness of the room, heart swelling with the truth of it. He pressed his lips to the top of the furry head.
(He missed the smell of leather and engine oil, the slight scent of ozone that clung to Anakin as if he carried a storm with him everywhere he went.)
—
“You can’t hiss at every person who wants to pet you.”
Anakin’s tail lashed.
“You can’t threaten to scratch them, either. Or lunge at them. Not even if you don’t intend to hurt them.”
An image of Ferus Olin pushed through their bond, along with a vague association of blood and a quick flicker of the Halls of Healing. “Don’t be absurd. Ferus isn’t going to try to pet you. And even if he did, you’re still not allowed.”
The loth-cat sighed gustily and hobbled away from him down the hall with as much wounded dignity as such a tiny body could carry.
Which was a surprising amount.
Obi-Wan held his tongue for a good minute before catching up to him. “I know this situation is wearing on your patience—”
Anakin ignored him. Through the golden threads of their bond he felt standoffish, distant, a sun shrouded in clouds.
“And that’s completely understandable, I’d be little better after ten days—”
Actually, Obi-Wan was near the end of his rope, too.
“Are you listening?” Obi-Wan rubbed his temples. Anakin had gone rigid, his head cocked to the side, ears swiveling like a parabolic antenna. “Focus, please. How about a break away from the—”
An MSE-4 mouse droid whirred into the corridor.
Anakin pounced.
“Anakin!” Obi-Wan reacted instinctively, reaching out with the Force to halt the cat mid-air, picturing the hard crash he’d have taken into the mouse droid if left unchecked.
Anakin yowled. Lightsaber-battle-combat-food images blurred together in their bond, leaving Obi-Wan disorientated.
Although lacking in much intelligence, the mouse droid accelerated, turned a corner like an illegal speeder racer, and disappeared.
Obi-Wan gingerly wrapped his hands around Anakin’s tense body, keeping an eye on his claws. “Darling,” he said, the endearment slipping out unconsciously, “what was that about?”
Lightsaber-battle-combat-food.
Lightsaber-battle-combat-food.
Lightsaber-battle-combat-food.
Obi-Wan grimaced. “That’s not explaining anything.” He attempted to place Anakin on his shoulders only to get growled at.
Concern won out again, and his teeth snapped around Anakin’s name. “Anakin!”
Anakin froze. And gave the most pitiful meow, ears flattening against his head. He didn’t wiggle or growl again when Obi-Wan pushed him onto his shoulder.
Through the bond, for the rest of the day, no matter how many times Obi-Wan asked him about it, all he got back was a vague sense of sheepishness and unease from Anakin.
—
“Um, Master Kenobi?” Ahsoka’s voice was hesitant. She stepped into view, holding Anakin to her chest, both arms around him, almost entirely covering him up. “I know you told me to watch Skyguy, and I was! Like a cliff hawk! But, um…”
Anakin radiated smugness. Obi-Wan set down his tablet. “But?”
“Um, but. He. Was. Is. Very quick?” She winced and held him out for Obi-Wan to see. “Like, really quick.”
Obi-Wan rounded the table, taking Anakin from her. “What in the world happened?” He kept his tone even, probing the bacta bandage around Anakin’s midriff. Anakin batted at Obi-Wan’s hand with his good paw.
Ahsoka tapped her fingers together awkwardly. “Uh, he might or might not have taken off like a laser blast straight into the city when we were walking in the garden? And I might or might not have chased him down a couple of levels until he got into a scrap with some rich lady’s stupid Ground Weevil. There was a whooooole lot of shouting and screaming—”
Anakin purred.
“—so I grabbed Skyguy and ran. Honestly, I’m more worried about the Ground Weevil—”
Obi-Wan frowned. He wasn’t listening to the padawan’s explanation. “Anakin?” He probed at their bond.
It was so faint.
“Ahsoka, can you feel him at all?” he asked, staring into the loth-cat’s large blue eyes.
Ahsoka paused.
Her silence was telling.
—
“He’s losing his sentience,” Che reported to the Council in her usual measured tone. “His awareness is fading. I managed a somewhat coherent conversation with him, but he quickly reverted to purely feline behavior. Given the circumstances, I recommend returning both the holocron and General Skywalker to the incident site, replicating conditions to see if it might reverse the effects. Under the circumstances, delaying for research is not advisable.”
Obi-Wan’s hands shook. He buried them in Anakin’s fur. “I was there, as was Padawan Tano. With the Council’s permission, we’ll take him back. Any opposition?”
There wasn’t. What followed was a punctual smattering of discussion, blessedly brief.
While Ahsoka grabbed their ready-to-go bags, Obi-Wan searched for the fastest ship, and plotted out the fastest course. He continued holding a wriggly Anakin while he did so.
Anakin growled. He wanted to go explore. Play. Follow the scents.
“Anakin. Please.” Obi-Wan’s voice dipped, no longer the steady master, no longer the one holding it together.
He’d tear the stars apart before he’d let this end here. He interwove their signatures together, tugging at the wispy glowing strands of their bond.
Anakin stilled. Obi-Wan felt something like a ripple in the Force. Not quite recognition, but a fluttering presence. Anakin's claws flexed unconsciously, scratching Obi-Wan’s wrist.
The Negotiator’s cockpit. Obi-Wan’s tidy regulation cabin. Rumpled bedsheets.
Anakin kneaded his forearm and purred.
“I don’t hear from you for almost twenty-four standard hours, and this is the first thing you say to me?” Obi-Wan’s tone was dry, collected—completely separate from the sting in the back of his eyes. His thumb rubbed under the loth-cat’s chin and then he confirmed on the tablet that he was commandeering a ship for an emergency mission.
Anakin rested his round head on Obi-Wan’s chest. The threads between them were stretched thin, but there was intelligence in that feline gaze.
“You’d best hope this works,” Obi-Wan said. “I was willing to make peace with this being your new form, but I do not think I could bear to live in a reality where you don’t remember who I am.”
Limited in facial expressions as he was, Anakin’s gaze still softened.
Ahsoka ran into the hangar with their bags. Minutes later, they were breaking free of Coruscant’s atmosphere, pushing the engines to their limit.
“Skyguy would know how to make the ship go faster,” Ahsoka bemoaned. “He’s got to teach me how he does it!”
Anakin chirped at her. It sounded like laughter. Ahsoka’s face lit up. “Skyguy! You’re back!”
Much to their mutual relief, Anakin remained back for almost the entirety of the trip. Whether it was the lack of distractions or Anakin’s love of space, he spent yjr hours in the cockpit, curled up on either Obi-Wan’s lap or Ahsoka’s.
When they arrived at the dwarf planet where they’d uncovered the holocron, finding the temple was easy. They’d left a huge crater nearby during the fight with the ancient security sentinels. It was no longer smoking, but the edges remained black and skeletal, almost accusatory, as they landed.
“Ahsoka, retrace your steps, try to remember what you were thinking and feeling at the time,” Obi-Wan instructed, standing at the entrance of the temple. He and Anakin had been outside, fighting for their lives. Ahsoka had gone in without them and then came back out with the holocron, not realizing what it was.
Ahsoka nodded. “Yes, master Kenobi.” She held the holocron gingerly. As far as such things went, it neither appeared nor felt all that menacing. It looked like scrap metal.
As she ducked into the darkened ruin, Obi-Wan and Anakin remained outside, waiting until the moon was right overhead, just as it had been two weeks prior. Obi-Wan brushed Anakin’s fur in steady strokes as he whispered, grounding them both in the fragile moment. Each breath he took felt like a plea that Anakin would find his way back to himself.
The scuff of boots over the stone broke his thoughts, and he looked up just in time to see Ahsoka come bounding forward, panting like she’d run from the edge of the galaxy. Her mouth was wide open to shout something when the air pulsed around them.
The night trembled.
Obi-Wan was knocked back as if a bantha had kicked him in the chest. He landed in the mossy grass with a grunt and rolled back onto his knees. The night folded into itself, pain shooting through his head as his brain scrambled to make sense of the impossible, and with a shiver and a flash, there he was on the grass—
Anakin. No longer furred and fanged, but very much, inconveniently, naked.
With a squeak, Ahsoka spun around, covering her face. “Well, that’s…something I didn’t need to see,” she said, her voice high-pitched with horror and relief all at once.
Sounding like he'd not only been kicked by a rampaging bantha, but stepped on by one, too, Anakin groaned.
Obi-Wan was already shrugging off his outer robe to drape it around his shoulders. “Welcome back,” he murmured, unable to hide the quiver of joy beneath the practiced calm.
Anakin propped himself up with his flesh arm. His breath was ragged as he blinked. He looked up at Obi-Wan, his lips quirking oddly as if he wasn’t sure how to smile after so long as a cat. “Don’t need that. I didn’t go anywhere. You two wouldn’t let me. Naggy."
“You scared the poodoo out of us!” Ahsoka took a quick peek over her shoulder, hand still mostly covering her eyes to make sure she didn’t see more of her master than she wanted to.
“Sorry.” Anakin accepted the arm Obi-Wan wrapped around his waist to help him off the ground. His center of balance seemed—off.
While they bickered, Obi-Wan helped Anakin put his arm through the sleeve, then carefully tied it off with the belt around his hips. His palms couldn’t stop running up and down Anakin’s sides, fingers digging in every once in a while when he thought he could get away with it. If Ahsoka noticed, she didn’t comment on it.
She did, however, volunteer to take first turn at the cockpit on the return trip.
Obi-Wan took Anakin to the cramped medbay that was standard on all the Order ships capable of long-space trips. He checked Anakin over, jotting down his vitals, tested his mental faculties—
And then he took Anakin’s face between his hands and kissed him.
"I’m alright," Anakin gasped into his mouth when they broke for air, only for Obi-Wan to immediately nose down to the beauty mark on his chin, breathing hard. Their bond shone like liquid gold. “I’m here. Would've found my way back. I swear.”
“Just the same,” Obi-Wan said lightly, his fingers curled over Anakin’s nape. “Let’s not do that again.”
“You didn’t think I made a great cat?”
Obi-Wan breathed out a tired laugh, his fingers digging into Anakin’s hips through the thin material of his robe. “You made a fantastically annoying cat, darling, but I can’t kiss you when you don’t have lips.”
Anakin rested their foreheads together. “Good argument. You convinced me. No more mysterious holocrons.”
Obi-Wan kissed him again.