Work Text:
"Do you even talk to him once in a while?" A'Sharad asked, joining the hidden Jedi Master in his observation of a ten-year-old following his uncle in the distance.
"Very rarely."
Much more rarely than he would like, A'Sharad understood without needing him to say more. This was his Padawan's son, his brother and his best friend, and he was barely allowed to see him.
"Come on," he sighed as he walked away.
It was not healthy for him to keep watching these people live from afar, he had to live his own life.
After a few seconds and probably one last sad look, the grizzled redhead stood up and followed him back to his own little house.
"I'm sorry," he said.
A'Sharad shrugged. It did not matter if he found it hard to move on, he was not like A'Sharad who had lived longer with the Tusken than with the Jedi. Thirteen years among the Jedi had never made A'Sharad forget his origins, but for Obi-Wan it was different, he had lived among the Jedi all his life and only experienced the end of the Jedi when he was thirty-eight. This man had lost his whole family and his whole tribe, years would not be enough to mourn that loss, A'Sharad knew something about that.
"Has everything gone well for you recently?"
A'Sharad hummed softly as he slowly got used to be surrounded by walls again and opened himself very gradually to the presence of the other in the Force.
His warmth, his light, his beauty.
"If something had gone wrong, I wouldn't be here."
"An absence could mean many things, a delay, an illness or perhaps even a death."
"The result would have been the same."
He would have been late for their informal appointment.
He would not have been there.
"Not for me. I would wait for you every month in the hope of seeing you again."
A'Sharad turned, surprised by so much sentimentalism before sighing silently at the fragility in the Jedi's eyes.
No man was built for that kind of solitude, A'Sharad knew it, he had offered him to come with him but Obi-Wan had refused, he wanted to stay close to Luke so he could protect him... but it was at the cost of his own health.
His mind was deteriorating, he was going to fall slowly but irretrievably into madness, A'Sharad's monthly visits would not be enough to stop it.
"When was the last time you slept a full night?" He asked as he approached, reaching out a hand for the other to touch and reassure himself of his solidity, his presence, his reality.
"I don't know," he said.
"Then come on, you need to rest."
There was not much else for him to do here anyway.
In the desert, every single effort was exhausting, so buildings were generally small and the bed reflected this, it was a small space in which the two of them only fitted well because they were cheating, A'Sharad generally sat against the stone and held a curled-up Obi-Wan in his arms until he fell asleep.
He had lost weight again, A'Sharad realised absently. The man's muscle mass had been more than exemplary during the war, but now the reinstated Tusken could feel his ribs.
"Wake me up before you go," Obi-Wan asked as he rested his head against his shoulder.
He had asked every time since that time when A'Sharad had left one morning without waking him. The next month he had found him hysterical and crying, convinced that he had imagined the whole thing and gone mad, dreaming of Jedi survivors because the reality was too unbearable.
"I will," he reassured him, interlacing their fingers and pulling him closer. "Sleep now, we're tired."
He did not close his eyes, watching the sleeping man in his arms as if he could freeze this moment forever and engrave it in his mind.
But no memory could replace the original.
The air outside grew progressively colder, and it was not until the twin suns of Tatooine began to warm the earth and sand again that A'Sharad awoke his lover, whom he despaired to find more fragile and vulnerable with each visit.
"Obi-Wan, I have to go."
The Tribe would be waiting for him for a while, maybe even longer than reasonable this close to settler dwellings, but not that long, he had to leave to join them before they left without him.
"Of course," the other muttered as he stood up, smiling reassuringly.
The Tusken was not reassured.
"Close your eyes."
The redhead complied serenely, used to his Tusken antics, and a few seconds later A'Sharad pressed his lips firmly against his.
"I'm going," he murmured after taking Obi-Wan's hands and placing them on his face, enjoying the feel of his skin against his.
"I'll wait for you to come back," the other replied simply.
A'Sharad nodded, kissing him one last time.
"And I'll be here."