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Chapter Text

Anakin Skywalker was five when he first glimpsed his memories of another life. Past Anakin’s choices in his final moments did not absolve him of the consequences of his fall from The Light nor half a lifetime of unforgivable deeds, but the Force welcomes him like an embrace on a cool night on Tatooine. 

Past Anakin arrives in the Netherworld of the Force, retaining his consciousness as a Force Spirit. The Force creates a landscape that’s familiar for him and Anakin almost scoffs when he sees he’s at the finish line in the arena for the Boonta race on Tatooine. First, he’s greeted by Yoda and Qui-Gon. Then, they all look over at Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan’s eyes shine, but he furiously blinks them away. Then he steps toward Anakin. However, realizing how his body betrays him, Obi-Wan quickly disappears into the Force, masking his consciousness. 

Yoda sighs, "Conflicted and hurt Obi-Wan is. Still happy to see his old padawan, he is.” 

Anakin tries to understand. 

"More to teach you, I have. Willing to listen, if you are." Anakin stays with Yoda and listens. 

Time passes, and the galaxy changes, yet it stays the same. The Force is unbalanced again.

"Obi-Wan, stop using my children as an excuse to escape me whenever I find you," Anakin shouts into the Living Force. 

The Neitherworld creates a visual landscape for Anakin again. It’s a spiritual manifestation the Force conjures for his search for Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon explains. He appreciates the Force’s sentiment. 

There are a lot of places to look. So Anakin searches. He finds Obi-Wan immediately the first time, looking out the window from the Jedi high council room in the temple. Anakin says the first part of Obi-Wan’s name before Obi-Wan’s hides. Next, they are in a cave on Tatooine, and Anakin catches Obi-Wan staring into the twin sunsets. 

“That can’t be good for your eyes,” Anakin remarks. Anakin blinks once and loses Obi-Wan again. 

Then, they are in the Jedi Temple.

”Really? Our old quarters?” Anakin tries to kick at a loose bolt. It does not move, but Anakin’s perseverance wins him a glance from Obi-Wan’s disbelieving eyes. Obi-Wan still doesn’t say anything, but he lingers a moment before leaving this time. 

 Finally, Anakin corners him while Obi-Wan watches their past play out before their eyes on the midrim planet of Mapuzo, their first battle since Mustafar. 

“Why here?” Anakin asks. Obi-Wan ignores him.

Anakin hears thunder strike and rumblings of more in the distance, and the landscape changes again. They watch Vader create a fire pit and drag Obi-Wan through the raging fire. Anakin bites his lips. It is an unpleasant memory.

“Stop following me," Obi-wan says evenly, emotions absent from his voice. Anakin feels Obi-wan's feelings all the same. 

"You can't run forever.”

“Sure I can,” Obi-Wan says flippantly.

“I will always find you,” Anakin states matter of factly.

Obi-Wan looks away.

Anakin tries again. 

“Tell me what’s bothering you,” Anakin demands.

“No,” Obi-Wan replies stubbornly. He turns his back to Anakin.

The landscape flickers like a holovid. The Force shows yet another fight between Vader and Obi-Wan, this time on the barren moon. Vader is wielding the Force with his fists and attempting to use rock pillars to pound Obi-Wan deeper into the ground. Anakin feels a strong push from the Force that this fight is important somehow.

Anakin’s changes his approach. 

“It’s not just us we have to worry about. We are impacting the Force, and it’s affecting everyone. Yoda says we need to talk or ’Spit you both out  the Force will,'" Anakin mimics. “So, for the good of the galaxy, tell me how you feel.”

Obi-Wan almost smiles but decides against it. Anakin wants to rip out his hair in frustration.

“We will never understand each other, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replies sadly, unable to remove his eyes from watching the battle between Vader and Obi-Wan near its conclusion.

“Then help me understand,” Anakin pleads. The ground shakes, and the rumbling gets louder. They are running out of time.

“And how do I do that?” Obi-Wan replies, finally meeting Anakin’s eyes. “All I ever tried to do was help you, and look how that turned out.”

In the reenactment, Vader and Obi-Wan are conversing amid flames.

“So what, you’re giving up? The Obi-Wan I know would never do that,” Anakin spits out.

“Well, I’m afraid that Obi-Wan has not existed in quite a long while. I doubt he ever existed,” Obi-Wan states sardonically. They watch as Vader’s mask is broken, revealing the man beneath.

“I’m sorry, Anakin, I can’t help you.”

The scene between Vader and Obi-Wan suddenly stops mid-motion; the fire flickers and disappears. 

Obi-Wan furrows his brows when, one by one, the rocks and fire on the barren moon blink out of existence. The spiritual manifestation that the Force conjures for them continues to crumble away until only the ground below their feet is left. Anakin loses his footing, and he stumbles awkwardly.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan shouts, reaching out with both arms. It feels like the Force is winding itself around them and squeezing. They flinch when the ground disappears.

Obi-Wan’s mouth drops open with surprise as both begin to freefall.

“I have you. Don’t let go,” Anakin cries, gripping Obi-Wan’s arm.

Everything goes dark.

Five-year-old Anakin opened his eyes and groaned. His five-year-old brain felt like a puddle of bantha poop. It was another memory, and it knocked him out this time. Anakin took a deep breath and registered that he was in his mother's arms. 

"Ani, we have a new master," whispered Shmi.

"Oh. Poodoo,” Anakin replied, grabbing his head. He looked around the grimy gambling room and could hear and see Gardulla the Hutt raging, but he tried again to remember the details of the memory. He remembered he was falling, but it was already slipping just beyond his grasp.

"Language," Shmi chided, her voice was soft and comforting, “She bet us and lost."

Anakin looked up at his sweet mother and hugged her. "I will free us both."

He felt her shudder as she took a breath—He saw and heard another memory of a last breath echoing in his ears.

"I know you will, Ani. And so will I.”

Chapter Text

The hum of a ship always comforted Anakin, and the transport ship he was traveling on to Coruscant was no different. He leaned the back of his head against the hull, allowing the vibrations to soothe his mind and growing headache. 

It was another memory, and while they increased in frequency and intensity as he got older, Anakin still had trouble dealing with them despite being almost ten. The ability to retain the memories was also a challenge and trying usually ended with him passing out or in a state as he was now. 

“You alright?”

Anakin opened his eyes and saw Padawan Vos peering down at him despite squatting closer to Anakin’s level, which Anakin realized was on the ground in the mess hall. He looked over at the spilled milk. The majority of the blue liquid was already on the floor.

Rather than help Anakin stand up, Vos sat beside him on the floor, resting his gloved hands on his knees. Anakin gave him an appreciative smile.

“You know, I have a friend that gets Visions too. He doesn’t deal with them well either.”

Anakin doesn’t correct him.

“Does he enjoy landing on the floor, too?” Anakin asked sarcastically.

“He most definitely does not enjoy that, and the last I heard from him, he seemed to be still struggling. What are yours like?” 

Anakin pondered. Sometimes, he received a stray thought or a jumble of emotions. Other times, he saw a memory play out like a holovid. The most intense experience was when the memories included all three. What frustrated him most was forgetting them or knowing a memory was out of reach. For example, Anakin remembered past Anakin’s also meeting a Jedi, but in the memory, he couldn’t tell who the Jedi was nor the circumstances of how they met.

“Focus on the now,” Vos said quietly.

“What?” Anakin asked, surprised.

“It’s what Grandmaster Yoda would say.” Quinlin chuckled to himself. “I can’t believe I would already pass one of his teachings to another.”

“How would someone do that?” Anakin asked greedily.

“Well, compare what’s happening in your Vision to what is happening to you now.”

That’s right, Anakin agreed to himself. The first Jedi he met was Padawan Vos, not the faceless one that happened to another Anakin. Anakin turned and studied the Jedi next to him and recounted to himself what happened in the last two weeks on Tatooine.

“Seem like you’re on the right track by how you feel in the Force. How about you start with what happened recently?” Vos suggested.

Anakin took a deep breath. He had met his first Jedi while working for Nashtah, a pirate in Mos Espa. Padawan Vos purposely led his pursuers into an alleyway and right into Anakin, and Anakin brought most of the wall and roof of a building down on them. As the billowing dust cleared and the debris suspended around them, Vos introduced himself. Anakin thought Vos looked so cool—a contrast to what Anakin thought now with the goofy grin Vos always wore on his face.

“I met you while my mom and I worked for space pirates.”

Vos raised an eyebrow in surprise. Anakin watched with interest as Vos’ face slowly morphed into a stoic mask.

“How’d you end up with them anyway?” Vos asked, voice low and almost blending in with their transport ship. 

 “We were transferred to Nashtah and her pirate crew when she beat Gardulla in a game of sabaac. The group left with more than their original winnings. She immediately freed us.” He shared quietly. 

“She seemed like a force to be reckoned with when we met for the first time,” Vos commented.

Anakin nodded. Nashtah often said, “It wouldn’t be pirating if we just won our loot, kid,” emphasizing her words by moving his arms around like she did when she talked. “It’s also how you earn your reputation in our line of work.” Anakin recited. Both he and Vos laughed at the ridiculous impersonation. Anakin didn’t know much about Nashtah’s past but often saw her leave with other bounty hunters over the year he and his mom had been with her, a sniper in her hands. 

“What else,” Vos coaxed.

 “I spent over three years with these pirates, and then I met you,” Anakin continued. He had scouted jobs for these pirates during pod races, which made him valuable. His mother earned the removal of her slave chip with her skills with machinery and was still with Nashtah’s group now, working as their ship mechanic. “We’re not enslaved,” he had said to Vos vehemently when he first asked Anakin after meeting him, but Anakin agreed that they weren’t exactly free either as long he still had his

That was until he met Jedi Master Tholme during the Tatooine Boonta Eve Classic pod race. Vos liked to tell this part of the story as “the getaway.” 

“Yes, you brought most of a building down on us. What next?”

“The heist to save Tholme.”

“Is this where you retell the story of our getaway?” Vos asked as if on cue.

Anakin laughed. 

Anakin’s decision to hotwire the pod and speed through the Boonta pod race to lose their tail made perfect sense to him. Winning the race was just blue icing on a flatcake.

Hours later, safe on their ship, wounds treated, and bodies void of grease, they gathered in the ship’s galley to celebrate their success. 

“You couldn’t find a more inconspicuous way to escape?” One of Nashtah’s crew had exclaimed. “You’re lucky one of us could submit your name and convince the announcers that they just ‘happened’ to forget to mention you at the start of the race.”

“At least I didn’t crash—this time,” Anakin replied, indignant. 

“And how did you manage that, Anakin?” Nashtah’s voice cut through the chatter. Her alabaster skin was smooth at first glance, but her crew knew how rough the calluses on her hands could be.

Anakin looked at his mother. 

“Ani, answer the question,” Shmi said, voice firm but reassuring.

“I could see it in my head when I raced. I don’t know—it’s just a feeling.”

“He used the force." Master Tholme answered. He sent a meaningful look toward Nashtah, who turned her head away. “Anakin is special. He trusted his instincts and won the race because of it. We have a school where he can be trained.”

“You mean the Jedi Temple, which is beholden to the Republic and your order’s code,” Nashtah said, voice cold.

“We serve the force. I cannot speak to every Jedi teaching or those serving near the temple, but he will be exposed to those who can help him understand his abilities. He’s free to leave the temple, as you know, Initiate Aurra Sing.” Jedi Master Tholm said, eyeing her with mournful eyes.

The room chilled as everyone turned their heads toward Nashtah. No one dared to breathe as they all watched how she would react. 

“He won’t be alone; he will be surrounded by others his age,” Vos blurts out. He smiles apologetically toward Anakin. “It’ll help with his awkwardness. There are many other younglings at the temple.”

Vos’ statement broke the tension, and many laughed. Anakin was the only one his age on the ship and had always been surrounded by those older than him. Nashtah grunted in frustration.

“I’ll leave the choice to Shmi as she is Anakin’s mother.” Anakin noticed Nashtah refused to look at the Jedi and gave Anakin a regretful look. She quickly turned and walked away toward her cabin, dismissing the Jedis, waist-length auburn hair swinging behind her. Everyone turned their eyes towards Shmi, Anakin included.

“Mom, I’d like to go.” Anakin looked toward Vos. “I already have at least one friend.”

This made his mother smile.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. My master and I are due to teach and recover at the temple for at least a while. 

Anakin winced at Vos’ words. His mother’s smile immediately wiped off. 

“I won’t allow my son to be enslaved again,” Shmi said, eyes intensely meeting Jedi Master Tholme’s eyes.

“He will be trained at the temple. I can’t promise he will be accepted as a Padawan as he is much older than the other initiates,” Jedi Master Thome replied, gently placing a hand on Shmi’s shoulder. “I will also promise that he doesn’t have to use the word master with his history.” His mom seemed to relax at his words and his touch, but she eventually shrugged off his hold, and with a quick look at Anakin’s hopeful eyes, she nodded her approval. He packed quickly, hugged his mother longer than he would ever admit, and left. Anakin didn’t look back.

“Anakin? You with me?” Vos asked, concerned.

Shaken out of the memory that had happened to him just one hyperspace jump ago, Anakin let out a breath of relief, more grounded than before. He nodded as reassuringly as possible.

“It’s cold,” Anakin said, barely holding back from shuddering.

Awareness of the cold space did not help Anakin prepare for the freezing temperature on the transport ship. Everyone on Nashtah’s ship was used to the hot temperature of Tatooine and most of the hotter climate planets in the Outer Rim. 

Anakin leaned his head on Vos’ shoulders, and Vos wrapped his arms around him tentatively. Anakin had left for less than a standard day and missed his mother terribly. 

“We’re almost there,” Vos said, whispering. Anakin turned his face into Vos’ warm half embrace, and they both ignored the wetness on Anakin’s face. They sat quietly together until the ship landed.

Chapter Text

Anakin couldn’t remember the circumstances of how the other Anakin got to the temple. He also couldn’t recall any experiences of Initiate life from the other Anakin either. 

It was disturbing that he could not recall his first meeting with the Jedi Council. His head became fuzzy when the ship flew by the Senate building and again when he saw a delegation leaving the Jedi temple. That was something to think about later, however. He could hardly keep his eyes from popping out of their sockets. He almost stepped off the transport ship too early in the temple hangars when they landed. 

The sheer size of the Jedi temple was incomprehensible, and supposedly, a whole city covered the entire planet. Anakin could barely stop himself from exclaiming aloud at every turn as they walked deeper and then ascent higher into the Jedi Temple. He couldn’t wait to run and explore all the floors. 

Before all that, though, he had to find a way to ensure he could stay at the temple indefinitely. He’d caught the implication from Master Tholme that he might not be picked as his Padawan. This was not an option Anakin wanted to entertain, so he determined that to be his first step: find a Jedi willing to take him on as a Padawan. Anakin’s resolve strengthened as he stepped through the door of the council chambers. 

The room was circular, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the Coruscant skyline. The floor was adorned with intricate, intertwined, swirly lines with tendrils that reached outwards from the center, marked by a solid circle of dark maroon. Twelve chairs were arranged around the center of the circle, each occupied by a council member of a different species, some he had never seen before. He was greeted by a throat clearing from a man with the sternest-looking face he’d ever seen. The man tilted his bald head to one side and stared at him.

“Do I have something on my face?” Anakin said, blurting out the first thing that came to his mind. 

The man quirked an eyebrow in response. His hands steepled before him, and he looked at Anakin appraisingly. 

“My mother said it’s not polite to stare,” Anakin stated, crossing his arms in front of him.

“And right, your mother is. Welcome you, we do. Try not to stare, we should,” said one of the council members. He was short, green, and held a walking stick in front of him. Despite his stature, Anakin could somehow tell that he was in charge. The short green council member chuckled and tapped his walking stick in front of Anakin and the bald man. The man looked scandalized. Anakin quickly looked away and tried very hard not to laugh. 

“I thought we must, ‘Do or do not. There is no try,’ Grandmaster Yoda,” Jedi Master Tholme said, walking from behind Anakin. Vos gave Anakin a quick smile and followed his master to the center of the room, where he stood next to Anakin.

Anakin tried to keep track of things when the Jedi started talking about what happened on Tatooine, but he soon became irritated when the council began talking about him as if he wasn’t there. He looked around the room and tried to look bored. Anakin studied the bald man in front of him. 

“What’s your name?” Anakin said suddenly. He realized he was interrupting but couldn’t find it in himself to care. He knew he was supposed to show them they should allow him to stay and receive training, but something about this man tugged at his insides. It hurt.

“My name is Mace Windu. I’m a Jedi Master and senior member of the Jedi Council.”

Anakin’s head began to spin. He could hear the scream of a different Anakin, a look of surprise from a different Jedi on this man’s face, and then the vision of the memory cleared, and he looked back at the man intently.

“I’m Anakin Skywalker.” 

“I know.” Mace Windu said softly. The room grew silent.

“And I’m very good at fixing things, and I don’t get into nearly as much trouble anymore. I mean…I still have a lot to learn, and the other pirates say trouble finds me, but…I’m also doing better at listening, and I follow directions. Well, more than I used to. I’ve been designing a protocol droid to help my mom. Obviously, I can’t make it on the ship anymore, but perhaps I could make it here.” Anakin doesn’t know exactly why, but he felt Mace Windu needed to know he wasn’t an idiot, although he doesn’t think he’s being very convincing now.

“Perhaps,” Mace said gently. He looked thoughtfully at Anakin. “We have many droid parts and excellent mechanics. There are many Jedi and Padawans who are learning these skills as well. It would be good for all of you to learn from each other.”

“Really? Does this mean I get to stay and become a Jedi?” Anakin asked hopefully. He didn’t realize the rest of the people in the council room had stopped talking and were listening to their conversation.

“Master Windu, I’m surprised you would be so open to someone this old joining and staying at the temple,” a Thisspiasian council member said, swaying his serpentine body and four arms tipped with claws. He was enormous but smiled warmly and kindly through his long golden hair as he spoke.

“It is my hope that he could join his fellow agemates in the creche and learn with other initiates,” Jedi Master Tholme said loudly, cutting off the other Jedi Masters who were sharing their opinions aloud. He also looked at Mace Windu curiously. “His perspective would be beneficial to other Initiates as well. It is the will of the force for us to have met and for him to be here.”

“Now, sounding like Master Qui-Gon Jinn, you are,” Master Yoda said, quieting the room. At the sound of that name, Anakin’s mind started reeling, but luckily, he was not inundated with memories. His present circumstances were already almost too much to bear.

“The council will decide when the time comes whether you will train as a Padawan. We will allow you to stay and learn in the creche with the others near your age group. Padawan Vos, please take Young Skywalker to the Halls of Healing,” Mace said with finality.

Anakin followed Vos in a daze. Later, he couldn’t recall what Vos had said while they walked. However, he felt hope and a swell of relief. He knew he would comb through everything and relive every word and movement. For now, he would allow himself a moment of happiness. He was on his way to becoming a Jedi, and hopefully, he’ll make some lifelong friends along the way.

Chapter Text

Vos hurriedly ushered Anakin out the council chamber doors and rushed the both of them to the turbo lift. Vos pressed the button to the Halls of Healing. He looked at Anakin, eyes wide with belayed shock.

“Am I a Jedi now?” Anakin asked, equally shocked.

“Maybe?” Vos replied, “Master Tholme and I thought the Jedi Council would push back due to your age, but when you and Master Windu started talking, it just felt…different,” Vos said in awe. He looked at Anakin with sudden excitement. “Do you realize what this could mean? We could have more younglings join us, and maybe those initiates who couldn’t find a Jedi Master in time wouldn’t have to leave!”

Anakin didn’t comment.

“I can’t wait to introduce you to Bant. She’s a Padawan, too, studying the Healing Arts. You’ll meet her in the Healing Halls today,” Vos said excitedly.  

When the turbo lift arrived at the Healing Hall, Vos moved quickly with long strides, and Anakin had to rush to keep up. They finally turned into the Halls of Healing, which, like its name, was a long hallway with offshoots leading to rooms lined down through each wing. Vos luckily turned down the first wing, and Anakin could hear a ruckus of things hitting the floor and the squealing of what could only belong to young children.

Just before Vos opened the door, Anakin felt what he could only describe as a ball of energy shooting right for the door, but neither Vos nor he could do anything but prepare for the collision aiming their way.

The door opened, and Vos and Anakin had to cover their ears as the noise of chaos escaped the room. Anakin heard Vos grunt with pain. Then Anakin looked down and saw a dazed little twi’lek girl with flailing arms fighting to maintain her balance from running into Vos’ thigh.

“Initiate Aayla, I must insist you return to your assigned room immediately; you’re dripping blood everywhere,” said a frazzled Mon Calamari. Anakin did his best not to stare. They don’t usually get visitors from water planets on his homeworld. 

“Oh, thank goodness. Vos, grab a hold of her and bring her back. She’s injured.”

Anakin realized belatedly that one of the girl’s lekku was missing.

“Anakin, watch out,” Vos warned. The girl, Aayla, had already found her balance and sped toward Anakin with all the speed a seven-year-old Jedi Initiate could manage, which was faster than Anakin anticipated. Anakin could only grab ahold of the girl and cushion their fall the best he could. 

However, just before he made an impact with the floor, he felt warmth, which he could only undoubtedly identify as the Force gently catching and lowering them slowly to the ground.

“Padawan Eerin, please focus on the remaining younglings in the room. I’ll take over here,” said a tall female Twi’lek in a voice that brooked no argument.

“But, Healer Che, I’m better now. It’s just a little blood,” Aayla insisted. Anakin watched as Healer Che traced Aayla’s cuts on her forearms and the very obviously missing lekku, cleanly sliced off with her keen eyes. 

“Even so, we are only going to check if there are any other injuries.” Healer Che said diplomatically. It surprisingly calmed Aayla down. Anakin swallowed his laughter at the remarkable way Master Che spoke with the girl.

“Please, I don’t want a shot. I hate needles. Padawan Eerin was going to give me a shot.”

Anakin blanched when he heard the word needles and could feel a pang of sympathy, but then he looked at the girl still dripping with blood, and he saw the transition when Healer Che moved from coaxing and calming to no-nonsense patient wrangling.

“Initiate Aayla. Part of your lekku is still twitching in one of the healing rooms. We must heal you, especially if you want your memories intact.” 

The statement caused Aayla to attempt to skurry out of Anakin’s arms, but Anakin held on tighter, being as careful as he could. 

“Don’t let them give me a shot!” Aayla cried, gripping Anakin’s arms with her tiny hands, and then promptly passed out. Surprised, he looked at the Healer suspiciously, who still had her arm outstretched toward Aayla.

“I only suggested she sleep. She was already almost out with the amount of blood she’d lost.” Healer Che used the Force to lift Anakin and Aayla off the ground and carry them into one of the healing rooms.

After Healer Che put them back on the ground, Anakin helped place Aayla on one of the patient beds. He thought that would be the end of it, but high-pitched screams and a thunderous crash echoed from a different room, followed by multiple cries from young voices. Anakin watched with interest and awe as Healer Che contacted Padawan Eerin on her comlink and delivered instructions that immediately put her healing halls in order.

“Padawan Vos, would you please assist Healer Eerin? I’m afraid your friend is rather frazzled and could use your support,” said Healer Che. 

“I’ll be there soon.” She turned toward Anakin with a quick, discerning look.

“Is she going to be alright?” Anakin said, voice laced with concern. He stared at the blood around them and staining his clothes. “She seemed really hurt.”

Healer Che sighed, “Yes, I suppose she will be for a while. There was an accident involving the younglings in her creche. They were with Jedi Master Even Piell off-world on a field trip—and she and some of her fellow crèchemates from Bear Clan did not follow his set path. Many were hurt. I am concerned there will be some harsh repercussions regarding her and others in her creche. You could say it was the will of the Force that you met today. She could use a friend—a nonjudgemental one.” 

Anakin nodded tentatively. Bear Clan. Crèchemates. Anakin felt his eyes water and quickly sniffed and rubbed his eyes. He made sure not to look at Healer Che.

“My records show you were implanted with a slave chip from the Hutts,” Healer Che said frankly. She tapped away on her datapad and waited for Anakin.

Anakin looked up at her with shock. “Um. Yeah.” He replied lamely. He hardly registered what she said, his mind still reeling that he was to be part of a clan. That he may even have friends.

Anakin nodded. “It’s not active anymore. My mom worked something out with the people we were with…er, she’s still with them, but it’s not like that.” He started to rub his neck. “I don’t even know where exactly the chip is…”

“It’s probably at the base of your neck between your vertebrates. It’ll be invasive but removable.”

“You can remove it?” Anakin said in disbelief.

“We need to set up a medical profile for you, but I can remove it today. Do I have your permission to start our medical check-up on you?”

Anakin gave up all pretense and allowed his tears to fall freely. He nodded quickly.

“Yeah, please.” Anakin started to hiccup, and he didn’t know how to staunch the tears that flowed down his cheeks like rivelets. He flinched with surprise when he felt a gentle touch on the shoulder. Anakin looked up at Healer Che with watery eyes and tried again to stop his tears.

“You don’t have to push your feelings or tears away. They are yours, and you must acknowledge them. Many at the temple will tell you to give your feelings to the Force, but embracing and accepting your feelings is a crucial step many, even Jedi Masters, forget to do.” Healer Che breathed in deeply and slowly let out her breath. Anakin naturally started to follow her, and soon, he breathed in and out in sync with her.

“Better?”

Anakin nodded, although his tears continued to fall. Carefully, he let go of his embarrassment and focused on his overwhelming gratitude. He allowed himself to mourn for the life he and his mother could have had if they had not been enslaved. However, he was here at the temple now, and while he still couldn’t let go of his insecurities, Anakin decided that he could live with the future being unknown. He had enough memories of a past not his to sort through, after all. 

“Thank you, Healer Che,” Anakin whispered. 

Healer Che smiled at Anakin and gave him something to wipe his tears with. He started giggling when he saw her alarmed face when he blew his nose instead.

“You’ll fit right in with the other younglings,” she commented wryly. Anakin grabbed at his stomach and laughed until tears started to fall again.

For the first time in his ten years of life, Anakin truly felt at ease.

Chapter Text

Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi was not amused. He was not amused at all. It was bad enough that he got Visions of the future, but now he had some other Obi-Wan’s past, visions, and memories he had to deal with. He could still feel the pain and sorrows lancing through his heart, but he couldn’t do anything about his feelings.

In the meantime, he would focus on reassuring his concerned friends. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and waited for the ceiling in the sparring room to stop spinning.

“Bant! He’s awake,” Quinlin Vos shouted, worry lacing his friend’s voice. They quickly came over to fuss over him.

“Mm-fine,” Obi-Wan mumbled, swatting away the concerned fins and gloved hands. He attempted to stand but quickly failed in his endeavor. 

“No, you’re not!” Vos and Bant reply in unison, each grabbing ahold of him and cushioning his fall. The three of them landed ungracefully on the sparring mat.

“This is the sixth time you’ve fallen,” Quinlin said, indignant.

“Fifth,” Obi-Wan corrected.

“That time in the refectory…” Bant recited, eyelids narrowing. 

“I tripped.” Obi-Wan insisted.

“You need to talk to someone about this,” Quinlin demanded.

“That time in the meditation chambers…” Bant continued, placing a fin on her hip.

“We all know I am not the first Jedi to pass out during meditation, nor will I be the last— and Quinlin, as I said before, no one needs to know about this. I am familiarizing myself with—with the way Visions affect me.”

“And let’s not forget that time during Economics Across the Galaxy lessons,” Bant finished.

“I was bored.”

“You love Economics!” Quinlin and Bant stated in unison. They stared at Obi-Wan incredulously. Obi-Wan sensed the moment their shock merged into determination. Determination to be a pain in Obi-Wan’s side.

As he gingerly sat up, though, Obi-Wan was genuinely surprised to be suddenly enveloped in the warmth of his friends’ embrace and worry. He allowed them to fuss over him, their presence a comforting balm. Soaking in their comfort, he admitted that he didn’t want a life of sadness or failure with these new Visions or memories—honestly, he had not figured out which was which yet—but what he did know was he wanted a life filled with laughter and camaraderie as he shared with Quinlin Vos and Bant Eerie. Except they were leaving him.

“It’s all right, you two. I will be fine. You two ought to worry about your missions. Both of you will be gone for quite a while this time,” Obi-Wan said as comfortingly as possible. 

“Will you at least talk to someone?” Quinlin asked.

“Of course, I was thinking of going to Grandmaster Yoda after we finished sparring, but perhaps now would be a better time.

Obi-Wan stood and ignored his friends’ protests. He did not clarify that he planned to ask Grandmaster Yoda to be his new Jedi master instead. His most recent Vision reaffirmed a necessary change. 

Grandmaster Yoda wanted Obi-Wan to stay and become a Jedi and went through elaborate scheming to partner him with Qui-Gon. Surely, he would understand it’s the Will of the Force. Obi-Wan rushed out of the training ground with a barely contained groan. His whole body hurt.  

I will find you two later,” Obi-Wan reassured. Obi-Wan knew Quinlin could be sensitive if he didn’t spend as much time with him. 

He crossed the front of the temple atrium, opening to a large courtyard guarded by Jedi sentinels. He should have immediately turned and headed up toward the council room, but instead, he went toward the front of the temple that led outside. 

Many people visited the temple, especially new dignitaries or newly instated galactic republic representatives. Today was one such day, with many people from around the galaxy milling about and touring the temple. 

In haste, Obi-Wan failed to be mindful of his surroundings and ran headfirst into a tall man with strongly scented robes. He was lost in this copious amount of fine linen. 

The robes felt like the curtains at those fancy inns Master Dooku preferred. Honestly, how many layers was this man wearing? Is it really necessary? And why so strong a scent? Obi-Wan thought.

“I do imagine to a young boy it may seem we are wearing more than necessary,” said the man with the too-strong perfumed clothes.

Oh, thought Obi-Wan, apparently he said his thoughts aloud.

“Think of it like a uniform. Those of us serving our worlds and representing our people tend to wear clothing that shows off our traditions and cultures. It can also be like armor, especially during heated exchanges in the Galactic Republic Senate. However, many of my colleagues go overboard between you and me.”

“You sure talk a lot. It is not like I’m going into the clothing industry.” Obi-Wan said, finally looking up at the man in front of him. 

“Oh my, yes, where are my manners? My name is Sheev Palpatine, and I am a Senator of Naboo. And may I ask what your name is? Are you the Jedi representative who’s been assigned as our liaison? I must say, we’ve been waiting for quite some time now in the courtyard. As pretty as the greenery here is, we eagerly await the lunch gala back at the Senate.” 

“I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am not the Jedi you’re looking for. I’m a Padawan. I—I am looking for my master,” Obi-Wan said, shocked at the introduction oozing out of him. He must sound like such a bantha brain. 

“I can be your master.” The man said, laughing. There was a moment where Obi-Wan thought he saw the man’s face melt into wrinkling skin as he spoke, but then it was gone.

“What did you say?” Obi-Wan asked, staring at the man’s face in shock. 

“I said I can help you find your master,” Senator Palpatine said again.

“Oh, I thought—sorry, I misheard,” Obi-Wan said, his throat constricting. Everywhere he looked lately, he had to sort through layers of visions, memories, and foreboding, but Obi-Wan saw nothing when he observed the man in front of him. Even the Force was strangely quiet. Obi-Wan relaxed his shoulder. However, his vision started getting fuzzy, and each breath he took seemed hard to do until…

The next thing Obi-Wan remembered was that he was opening his eyes and lying on a cement bench in the temple courtyard.

“Are you alright? I must say that during my many visits to the Jedi Temple, this was the first time I’d seen someone faint before me after delivering their name. They must work you, Padawans, to the death. Perhaps I should have a word with your Master.”

“Uh. That’s okay.” Obi-Wan said, stuttering. “I haven’t eaten recently, and it is not because my Master doesn’t allow it. I just forgot.” Obi-Wan hurried. He winced at how he sounded. This man, senator, must think the worst of him.

The senator laughed. It was a laugh meant to go on until the large lungful of air ran out, which was why it was odd when it suddenly stopped after barely starting. 

“How charming.” The man looked toward a group of people around Obi-Wan’s age and dressed like the Senators and other dignitaries. “I am showing some of the young leaders from the Naboo Legislative Youth Program around Coruscant after we are done here, and we are about to have lunch at the Galactic Republic Senate Building. Perhaps you can join us since our Jedi liaison could not make it today. I am sure they would love the perspective of a Padawan in training who is around the same age and young as them.” 

The senator motioned toward a group of young leaders. One girl stood out with her long brown hair, half pulled up into intricate braids and wrapped neatly into a bun on her head.

“I should probably ask my master before confirming. The other Jedi may be running late,” Obi-Wan said, wondering why he had not said no to a stranger, a politician no less. Obi-Wan rubbed his forehead, running his hands through his hair. There was something Obi-Wan was supposed to do. 

“Oh, I can send one of my people to let them know we asked to have one of their Padawans guide us back to the Senate.”

“Ok—” Obi-Wan began to say.

“That won’t be necessary.” Both the senator and Obi-Wan looked toward the new voice in surprise. Master Qui-Gon was walking briskly toward them with who looked to be the missing Jedi the group of dignitaries was waiting for. The Jedi Knight looked understandably frazzled. Qui-Gon’s face was calm as ever. Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan and sent a wave of relief toward Obi-Wan, who still had his legs propped up on the bench. He then turned his head toward the senator sitting close beside Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon’s eyes narrowed, which, if it weren’t because Obi-Wan had spent more time than he wanted to admit analyzing Qui-Gon’s face, anyone else would have missed the change on his Jedi Master’s face. 

“Senator Palpatine, thank you for the invitation, but my Padawan has lessons he needs to attend at this time,” Master Qui-Gon said, not allowing the senator to interrupt. 

It was strange, Obi-Wan thought. His master seemed always to be gone when Obi-Wan needed him. When he finally had a chance to leave the temple for something interesting, he showed up now.

“Of course, I understand, but my offer for your padawan to join us still stands. I must insist on a different day. It would be beneficial for both our organizations. It would strengthen the relationship between the Senate and the Jedi. Show that even the Jedi start somewhere. That was the goal when we initially spoke with the council.”

“Obi-Wan is but one of many Padawans here. Many others would be available as well.”

“No, I’ll go,” Obi-Wan said quickly, “but perhaps a different day would be better.” Obi-Wan stood up and looked at the senator. “Thank you for your help today. It was nice meeting you.” Obi-Wan did not know when he developed the audacity to contradict Master Qui-Gon directly in front of another authority figure, but then again, Obi-Wan was on his way to ask Grandmaster Yoda to be his master instead.

“The pleasure was all mine. I will have my people contact your council and make requests for you next time. And you, young Padawan, it would be good to have dinner so you don’t faint again.” The senator looked at Master Qui-Gon pointedly. “We wouldn’t want people to think the Jedis work their youth to the bone.”

“Thank you for watching out for my Padawan, Senator,” Master Qui-Gon replied smoothly. If Obi-Wan did not know better, he would have thought Master Qui-Gon’s smile was strained.

“Padawan.”

Obi-Wan looked toward Master Qui-Gon. He motioned for Obi-Wan to follow.

Obi-Wan looked back and watched as the senator turned toward the other youths from Naboo. Then, he saw the face of the girl he’d seen earlier greet the senator, her determined brown eyes matching another from a memory.

Chapter Text

“A master, you already have Padawan Kenobi.” Grandmaster Yoda says. The council room filled with mirth.

“We will deliberate and call you once we’ve decided about your apprenticeship with Master Qui-Gon.” Master Koon states kindly, seeming to take Obi-Wan’s request seriously. 

“In the meantime, we recommend you meditate until we decide.” Master Windu said, dismissing him with a tilt of his head.

Obi-Wan looked behind him as the door to the council room closed. It was not a direct no. Obi-Wan’s head pulsed with pain, and he leaned against the side of the hallway outside the council room.

He walked quickly to the living quarters he shared with his master, and as he stepped through the door, he was greeted with a frown.

“I was informed you wanted to have a new master,” Qui-gon says, voice steady. The only hint of his true feelings was hidden with a deep inhale. “Will I have a say in this, or will I only be informed by your belongings by the door?”

“You always said a Jedi has to be prepared for anything, Master,” Obi-wan replied dryly, not daring to meet Master Qui-Gon’s eyes, afraid he would lose his resolve. 

“I was hoping we could talk.”

“Are we not, Master?” Obi-Wan says. He quickly moved to his old room and made a final sweep before returning to the door. Obi-Wan noticed there was food on the kitchen table. It was also his favorite from Dex’s Diner. Of course, his master chose to show how observant and considerate he was toward Obi-Wan. I must be firm. I cannot allow my resolve to waver, he repeatedly told himself in his mind. 

There was a clatter, and Obi-Wan must have dropped whatever was in his hands to steady himself. Images flooded his mind. 

A much older Obi-Wan, still a Padawan but with a much longer braid, is laughing with his master. A battle, and then he’s holding his master on the ground, sobbing. Obi-Wan is alone. He is always alone.

“Padawan!”

Obi-Wan gasped and found himself staring yet again at the ceiling, although a different one.

“I’m fine, Master Qui-Gon. I apologize for startling you.”

“Startling? That is not what I am concerned about,” Master Qui-Wan said sternly.

“I’m fine!” Obi-Wan shouted. He bit his lip, regretting his loss of control, and reached for the Force. Not that it mattered. He need not try to prove himself to the man before him. It was not like he cared what Master Qui-Gon thought of him anymore.

“Obi-Wan, your thoughts betray you.”

“And what do you know of my thoughts?” Obi-Wan says hurriedly—a spike of panic pierced through him.

“Apologies, Padawan, you are correct. I do not know what you are feeling, but I would like to know if you would tell me. I apologize for not asking sooner about your Visions. Perhaps you could share your thoughts with me now, and we can sort through your feelings together.” Qui-gon says gently. 

Obi-Wan’s heart swelled with hope briefly, but all he could see was the look on Qui-Gon’s face as he died in his arms. Obi-Wan pushed away his grief until all he could feel and see was the stricken face before him and his nails biting into his palm.

“Perhaps at a later time, Master. Grandmaster Yoda says I can stay with him until the council decides.” He picked himself up, shaking off Master Qui-Gon’s arm, took his bag of belongings, and walked out the door.

It was quiet after his padawan left, and Qui-Gon sat silently, unable to stop himself from turning his head toward the door whenever he heard a sound. When the door chimed, Qui-Gon’s cup of tea was cold and untouched, and he had already counted how many times the Grandmaster’s gimer stick clacked down the hall. 

Master Yoda walked in and helped himself to the untouched food he had prepared for Obi-Wan and himself. 

“Hmm, like this soup, I do. However, simple rootleaf stew, I prefer.” Yoda said, chuckling. 

“We all have our faults, Master Yoda,” Qui-Gon replied.

“Oh, sad about your padawan, you are. Confused about your padawan’s request, you are more.”

“The living force gives no insight into this, Master Yoda. It surrounds Obi-Wan and gifts him with more foresight than most, so I know he sees things that may yet happen. For a time, I thought he had overcome his difficulties with Visions. It also seemed he finally stopped worrying about his place as my padawan. Then, after the disturbance in the Force, he hardly looks or speaks to me. Whatever his last Vision, it has caused him to disengage from our training completely.” 

Qui-Gon walks toward the window and looks out into the Coruscant skyline. “I’ve lost him, and I don’t know how or why it happened.”

Qui-Gon was grateful Yoda allowed him to take a moment longer to recenter before delivering the council’s decision.

“At my place, Young Kenobi will stay. My padawan, he will be. Both our Padawan, he will be. Perhaps, change, the Jedi will. All padawans, this will help.” Yoda sighed, “Long I have lived, but more still I need to learn.” Yoda tapped Qui-Gon with his gimer stick. “Leave you, I will. Prepare a place for a new padawan, I must. Hmm?” He paused when he reached the door. “A new chance, this is.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t decide if Grandmaster Yoda was purposely insensitive when talking about his padawan. Unfortunately, he reached for his tea and realized it was still cold. He sat it back down and managed to enter a light meditation when the door chimed again.

“You look awful,” Mace said as a greeting. He walked in and helped himself to the tea; Qui-Gon felt a childish satisfaction when Mace spat out the tea immediately. “You seeped it too long, and it’s cold.”

“Well, I didn’t have time between Master Yoda and you to make more. Pardon me while I make more.”

Mace waved his hand toward Qui-Gon’s kitchen in encouragement, ignoring Qui-Gon’s sigh of annoyance. Qui-Gon found himself too tired to object and made more tea. 

“And why are you here? Are you going to comfort me as well,” Qui-Gon asked.

“I’m here to discuss the changes the Jedi Council agreed to make and ask for your help implementing it,” Mace replied.

Qui-Gon looks at Mace with surprise, “You want me to help the council?”

Mace sighed and looked him straight in the eyes. “I want you in the council. You’ve often criticized how antiquated some of our rules and guidelines are. Force knows you’ve broken enough of them, and you’re right in some ways, but you’ve also been wrong. 

“What changed your mind? I’m sorry, but it’s hard to believe you would be amenable to the reforms we seem to be heading towards.”

Mace surprised him by rubbing his face in frustration. He seemed exhausted all of a sudden.

“Let’s just say my new padawan is special in the Force. He wants my attention, needs validation, and time to adjust to Jedi life. I’m honestly surprised he’s not knocking on your door by now.”

“Sounds like a handful,” Qui-Gon said, smothering his laugh. Mace glared as if he heard it.

“In the…past, we have turned away many, and it was brought to my attention that the Force may have another way to becoming a Jedi.”

“So, are you going to help us or not?” Mace asked, all pretense of patience gone.

“Yes. Someone needs to point out when it’s the Will of the Force.” Qui-Gon said, resigned.

Mace let out a laugh. However, before he can retort, he furrowed his brow and placed his head in his hands. He took a deep breath before turning toward the door.

“Mace? Are you in there? You weren’t at the training chamber, so I came looking for you,” a preteen voice asked through the door. Mace closes his eyes and steeples his fingers together. “Oh, wow! Yeah, we can talk through our bond! Stars, can you hear me?!” 

“I think the whole temple could feel his presence, Mace. Who is this youngling you found?”

“You don’t want to know, not yet.”

Mace stood and walked toward the door without fanfare but looked back before Qui-Gon could ask. “He has suffered and desperately tries to prove he deserves to be here. His calling for me by my name is a small concession if it can help him overcome his trauma. Perhaps the new reforms we enact can help more younglings like my new padawan and yours. They are our future, don’t you agree?”

Qui-Gon caught the back of the young padawan as Mace walked out the door. The young boy rushed to catch up to Mace’s enormous strides, but Qui-Gon couldn’t help but smile at how Mace slowed down to allow his padawan to reach him faster. 

“I can’t believe you got me to join the council.”

Laughter echoed down the hall.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan readjusted his light blue satin tabards and pulled on the embroidered sleeves of his midnight blue robes for the umpteenth time as he walked toward the Galactic Senate Building. He was not wearing his usual Padawan clothes of creme and tan layers; instead, he was fitted in a bluish-gray undertunic and a midnight blue overtunic made of intricate weaves. His belt was tightly fitted over his obi, and his lightsaber hung securely on his left side. His Padawan Braid was tied with golden threads, interwoven with the new beads he earned from his recent missions with Grandmaster Yoda. He was allowed to change his cloak, but he chose a richer, darker brown that was not scratchy like his previous cloaks. 

He felt a mix of apprehension and nervousness at Senator Palpatine’s invitation to meet the Naboo Legislative Youths. At least he had a say in what to wear when he received this new assignment. As the newly assigned Junior Jedi Padawan, liaison between the Galactic Senate and the Jedis. He took a deep breath and held it. Obi-Wan held it until his eyes watered, attempting to let go of his worry into the Force. Unfortunately, that required him to acknowledge and process his emotions, and he hasn’t been doing well on that front lately.

Today, he was assigned by the Jedi Council to meet the other youths his age and observe how people mingle with the other dignitaries. It was the first time he stepped outside the familiar walls of the Jedi Temple and into the world of politics on his own. He had a crash course with Jedi Master Tholme. Master Tholme thought it was rather impolite to give such short notice to learn months of preparation and to train someone on such short notice, especially since a prepared, trained, and more experienced Jedi Knight was already available. 

He arrived quicker than he anticipated and was blown away by the sheer amount of decoration and scale of what was supposed to be just a mixer between some dignitaries. The room was massive; white marble floors, gold vases, and green vines were decorated, but the view took his breath away. Every wall was a window that showcased a different view of Coruscant. Obi-Wan suddenly felt small and exposed. He felt the many eyes and bodies in the room shift and take notice of him. He plotted a quick course to the food and drink table and was again overwhelmed.

The drink table was a work of art, a miniature model of a serene lake nestled amidst a lush forest and towering mountains. Glass cups filled with colorful drinks sat on top of miniature boats, their reflections dancing on the water’s surface. It was a living portrait. He reached for a glass, and another hand touched his. He stared at their hand on his, unsure what to do. He panicked, tipped over one of the miniature boats with its glass cup, and watched in horror as it spilled over the sleeves above the slender fingers touching him. The drinks continued their collision course with the other beverages, overflowing the lake onto the table. Obi-Wan looked up and stared into the familiar eyes of a young girl his age, one of the youths he met at the temple with Senator Palpatine, in embarrassment and horror.

“Grab a glass and walk with me,” she said softly, grabbing and curling her arm around his upper arm. Her quiet voice did nothing to hide her confidence. Obi-Wan cleared his throat and walked quickly next to her. He noticed her adjust her sleeve to cover the spill of liquid. “Not so fast; slow down, look at me, and laugh at something funny I said.

“You haven’t said anything funny yet,” Obi-Wan replied quietly.

“Oh, well, just look and smile at me. I’ll do it then.”

Obi-Wan smiled, and she laughed. Her chuckles sounded like bells, and he noticed the amused looks of some dignitaries taking notice of them. They walked towards the rest of the youths. It was a mix of different races and age ranges, but all were considered to be in their younger stages of life. None of them paid Obi-Wan and the girl beside him any mind except one. 

The youth looked a couple of years older than Obi-Wan, had brown locks, and seemed like the person who always had a permanent smile. He wore a light gray knit sweater that reached his neck and a dark heather gray overcoat with short sleeves that showed off the design of his cable knit sweater. The outfit was neatly combined with knee-high black boots and a wide black belt. The boy looked toward the two of them.

“You made it and avoided all the Colo claw fish in the room. Those things can grow up to 20 meters, so you sure dodged quite a bit,” they said.

“Um, what,” Obi-Wan asked.

“Oh, don’t mind him. He means all these senators in the room are like Colo claw fish out to bite and eat everyone. It’s a type of fish in Naboo. Bail, we are meant to learn how to gather information and mingle. You’re not mingling.”

“Reading about Nubian species can help with speaking with this crowd. I think I impressed the Gungan representative. When we are with the Alderaanians, I can talk about philosophy, education, and art. 

“And Breha will be impressed, and you’ll be on your way to becoming an Organa, I’m sure, but as you know, Alderaan is not the only place in the galaxy with philosophy, education, and art. And, speaking of gathering information,” said Obi-Wan’s savior of mitigating a diplomatic embarrassment, “My name is Padme Amidala. This ruffian is Bail Prestor. We are delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, Junior Padawan at the Jedi Temple. Thanks for your help. I am a little out of my element.” 

Padme and Bail stared at Obi-Wan and then towards his lightsaber. They looked at each other and smiled mischievously. 

Obi-Wan, in turn, looked contemplatively at Padme and Bail. He expected a memory to surface, but there were no recollections. Obi-Wan was grateful he could have this moment to truly meet someone for the first time without having to sort through the here and now. However, when he looked at Padme, his heart ached—not knowing why, he shelved it away in his mind like everything else. 

“Obi-Wan, are you okay,” Bail asked, ignoring the sudden melancholic mood surrounding Obi-Wan. 

“Ye-yeah, I mean yes, sorry, I guess I’m still a little nervous,” Obi-Wan said, stuttering. He took another deep breath. “What were you saying?” Obi-Wan watched their smiles return, and Padme leaned over to whisper.

“You’re a padawan, so you must know the Jedi Temple pretty well,” Padme asked.

“Er, yes. I’ve been at the temple as long as I can remember,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Is it true that the Jedi Temple Library is so big that some have gotten lost and slept there for days? Senator Palpatine must have been joking, but I thought I’d confirm.”

“Um, the Jedi Archives is known to have the largest collection of data, artifacts, and holocrons in the galaxy. Some younglings may have gotten lost, but our Chief Librarian and others serving in our library are almost always there to help,” Obi-Wan has gotten lost, and he may have fallen asleep. He did not want to admit this to her.

“Why are we whispering?” Bail asked. He was much taller, so he chose not to lean over and call attention to them.

“How about we do a trade? We will give you a tour of the Senate Dome, and in return, you can give us a tour of the library.”

“Why are you asking me to get you into the library instead of asking Senator Palpatine to help you?”

“No need to bother him with this,” Padme said quickly. She looked past Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and her eyes got wider. “Anyway, we are friends now, and you spilled juice on me, and I may have spilled some on you as well, 

“What does spilling juice have to do with being friends?”

“It’s shared embarrassment. It’s a bond that strengthens any friendships...and I heard this library is just so amazing, so you— ”

“—So you ‘juice’ have to show us this amazing library,” Bail said, smiling widely.

Obi-Wan and Padme looked at Bail in horror.

“Okay, that’s awful. We can’t be friends,” Obi-Wan said, turning away from them so as not to laugh in Bail’s face.

“We were so close to convincing him until you said that terrible pun. How could you, Bail?” Padme said, also turning her head away. She winked at Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan couldn’t stifle his giggles anymore. He laughed. And finally, he felt light in the Force. It surrounded them so strongly. He may have just met them, but felt like he knew them forever. 

“Alright, so let’s go give you a tour,” Padme said, grabbing Obi-Wan’s arm again. 

“Now? Padme, you’re the one who said we needed to mingle,” Bail said, 

“And you will,” Padme said, smiling. She continued to direct Obi-Wan toward a door farther away from where people were roaming.

Obi-Wan took a moment to look at Padme. Her hair was braided again, but her long hair was all up into a neat bun and left only a few strands to frame her face. She looked around his age and seemed slightly taller, but he’d been hitting his growth spurt now that he was 13.  

“You seem very adamant we do this now,” Obi-Wan said, suddenly apprehensive. He felt the hair on his neck rise.

Padme picked up her pace, and Obi-Wan had to navigate quickly so as not to bump into anyone. He felt the Force pulse with a warning. Obi-Wan pulled Padme back to a stop as a server tripped and sent hors-d’oeuvres flying before them.

“It’s too late,” Padme sighed, turning to face the person walking toward them. She made a painful smile at Obi-Wan, straightened her back, and smiled charmingly. 

Obi-Wan turned and watched as Senator Palpatine took a glass from one of the staff members as he reached the two of them. He glanced toward Padme but made eye contact with Obi-Wan as he greeted them with a nod.

Padme cleared her throat and said, “Obi-Wan, may I introduce you to Senator Palpatine of Naboo. He is the lead mentor of our Naboo Legislative Youth program. Our original mentor became sick, so we are very gracious. Senator Palpatine was able to lead us despite his very busy schedule.” 

Obi-Wan thought Padme didn’t sound very gracious, but Senator Palpatine didn’t seem to notice.

“You’re too kind, Your Highness,” Senator Palpatine responded, “Oh, my mistake, your future highness. I do hope you succeed next time in being elected. It was such a close race.”

“Thank you for your kind words and for being so sensitive. It was serendipitous how a spot was opened for me to be here with the Legislative Youths.”

Obi-Wan stared at Padme in surprise. He didn’t think Senator Palpatine was being particularly sensitive.

“Yes. And how wonderful to have you here with us. I see you’ve met Padawan Kenobi,” the Senator said, beaming at Obi-Wan. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see the senator looking at the two of them with curiosity.

Obi-Wan noticed Padme staring intensely at him and the hand on his shoulder. He gave her a questioning look before turning his attention to the senator.

“We met at the drink table. Padme helped me navigate the room. I was able to meet some of the other youths,” Obi-Wan explained. Technically, he just met one other youth, but the senator doesn’t need to know all the details.

“That’s wonderful, especially since Padme still has her duties for this event. Please let me introduce you to some of the other senators here and teach you some ways to break the ice. They’ve been very curious about you.” 

“That would be wonderful to learn from you. However, I don’t want to trouble you, Senator Palpatine.” Obi-Wan felt Padme’s eyes begin to bore a hole to the side of his face.

“I insist.”

Obi-Wan was whisked away for the rest of the evening. He observed and introduced himself and conversed with the other senators, using the openings provided by Senator Palpatine, until he carried on naturally on his own. He quickly forgot the incident at the drink table and his conversation with Padme and Bail until later that evening, when he was back in his room at the temple. It was odd because Obi-Wan found his experience with them unforgettable. He also felt at ease with them. The Force sang when he was with him. As he replaced his satin tabard with cloth of the same color, he felt something drop to the ground. He picked it up to find a comlink with a note. 

Obi-Wan opened and read the note, closed his eyes, and flopped onto his bed. He crinkled the note and started to laugh until tears leaked out of his eyes. That night, when Grandmaster Yoda came to check on Obi-Wan, he picked up the flimsi with only one word: “Friends.”

Chapter Text

Anakin turned thirteen in the creche and was almost fourteen years old when he went on the Rite of Passage. He spent three years in the crèche, the Bear Clan, and got in a lot of mischief during those years with his new crèchemates at the Jedi Temple. He was older than his group of twenty younglings by around three years. Aayla and he became the best of friends. He and Petra, who was the next oldest after him, tended to butt heads with each other, but the sheer amount of trouble they had got in together brought them together out of necessity. He felt sad for Anakin from his memories. It was wrought with loneliness, jealousy, and other emotions he didn’t understand yet.

Before going to bed each night, he developed this habit of combing through the memories he would gather throughout the day. He concluded these memories of this other Anakin must have mattered to have the Force intervene to show him the life of this other knight. 

However, he soon had his first moment of shared anger and sadness as he watched two of his fellow initiates from Bear Clan get sent away and out of the temple. What exactly will they do since they spent almost all their life in the Temple? Anakin would be fine if he left. He had enough skills and was resourceful. His friends in the creche, though? They were basically told to leave because they were too old and no masters wanted them. Now, they must sit and listen to a lesson from Jedi Masters about attachments. Anakin stood and watched as his friends tried not to cry and meditate.

“Really? They are going to lecture us when they just finished kicking two of our own?” Anakin fumed. It didn’t help that he knew he was at the age limit as well.

Anakin didn’t consider the Anakin from his memories the same person as himself, but right now, he felt the same astonishment toward the rules and guidelines they were being taught to follow as the other Anakin. It was especially challenging to control his emotions when memories would surface and compound the emotions he was already feeling. 

 Anakin felt the emotions so intensely that they led him to distraction. It allowed Aayla to hit and trip him during their saber lessons with Yoda, and the whole class stopped in surprise. Latent apprehension saturated the Force.

“An Initiate, you will soon be. The Gathering and Rite of Passage, all of you will face. Focus, you must,” Yoda admonished. Anakin knew the statements were mainly for him, but the entire clan did not blame him. They were trying to release their hurt and irritation into the Force, but no one liked getting in trouble for what one of them did. However, one thing was sure: they backed each other up, at least outside the creche. All the bantha dung talk came after they went back to their rooms.

The class ended, and Yoda approached Anakin before he had a chance to escape. 

“Trouble and anger, I sense in you. Why confused, are you? Happy with your fellow younglings, are you not?” Yoda asked kindly. “Listen, I will. Adjusting well, are you?”

Anakin sensed in the Force that Yoda was more troubled than he was and didn’t know how to respond. “Since when did you care what one youngling felt?” Anakin said quickly, blurting the first thing from his mind in equal mortification and righteous indignation. 

The other younglings turned and stared at Yoda. No one spoke. Aayla grabbed one of her lekku and twisted it with worry. 

“Care for all younglings, I do. Share your feelings with me, will you?”

Anakin looked down and searched through his feelings. There was doubt and distrust, but fear of rejection was the strongest emotion. He doubted his place at the temple and how he would catch up and become a Jedi, and the more he spent time and connected with the other younglings, the more he feared losing his place in the creche and the way to become a Jedi. 

However, he’s not the only one who feared. He looked over at the other younglings and recalled their worries. They grew up in the temple, and as they all are of an initiate age, they question whether they will be able to be chosen as a Padawan. There are only so many available Jedi Masters. Many of his creshemates did not want to leave the only home they knew or become farmers, however noble of a role that is. If he said this, would Yoda lecture them again about attachments? How things are the will of the Force. If he can’t stay, how can he help his friends now?

“I think it is unfair that we will all not be able to become Jedi, even if we meet the requirements and skills. I also think the competition for finding a Jedi Master encourages feelings that lead to the dark side,” Anakin stated, gaining confidence as he continued. 

“We should all be able to work and learn together from all the Jedi Masters. I don’t think it is the will of the Force for only a few to become Jedi when the Force speaks to so many. And with all of us becoming Jedi, we would be able to help so much more. And all this could help us manage our emotions like you always tell us, sir, because we would know many can help teach and listen to us.” 

The room was quiet, and the Force felt calm. Anakin waited with bated breath. A year ago, he would have never risked calling so much attention to himself as he struggled to convince them to allow him to become a Jedi. Now, it was more than just him he needed to think about. He may not be close to all his creshemates, but they were Bear Clan, and Bear Clan watched out for each other. Although looking at the silent Jedi Grandmaster, he might have to grovel and find room and board elsewhere.

“Amazing, the mind of a youngling is. Listen to you all more, we should. Worry, do not. Do better, we should. Change, we all must. The will of the Force, this is. Trust in the Force, we all must,” Yoda said, chuckling. He made a shooing motion to all of them. “Rest, you should. Talk to the council now, I will. Time for action, it is.”

That night, Anakin snuck out and walked through the grand hallway overlooking the bustling of people in the busy Coruscant nightlife. He should be resting before the Gathering tomorrow, but watching the many speeders calmly travel to their destination, programmed never to stray lanes, always calmed him. He walked closer to the balconies that ran beside the hallway. The air was cold, as was everything on this planet, but he stepped even closer to the edge.

“That was quite a speech, young Anakin,” said a familiar voice. Anakin turned in surprise and stared into the face of Mace Windu, the stoic one, or as his fellow creshemates have said, the Jedi Master with the shiniest bald head. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so nervous. Anakin had never been caught out of bed since he’d arrived at the temple and was at a loss on how to react.

“What speech?” Anakin answered.

Mace gave him an unimpressed look. “The words you said to Grandmaster Yoda. He called an emergency council meeting. We spent most of the day going over your suggestions.”

“My suggestions?” Anakin parrotted. 

“Yes, your suggestions to support our younglings, prepare all our initiates to be padawans, and train more padawans even if there are not enough Jedi Masters to take apprentices. Change everything that we have always done.”

“I’m not asking to change everything. I’m asking for choices and the chance for everyone to be trained,”Anakin said heatedly.

“And how do you think we should do that?” Mace placed his hands on his hips, his foot tapped on the stone ground

“I don’t know,” Anakin shouted, losing patience.

“You can do better than that. Tell me what you really think,” Mace challenged.

“I think you are all dumb and wasteful. You can do so many things to teach and train us to be Jedi. So many gifts and talents are wasted when they don’t have to be. So maybe some of us may not be the best suited, but that doesn’t mean they can’t change or learn to manage their feelings or…or learn and do other skills using the Force. And maybe it’s okay to do other things even if we can’t make it as a Padawan. Did you know Byph wants to be a farmer? He thinks it’s cool to grow food with the Force and feed the galaxy. ‘No one would have to go hungry. ’”

“What about those that are not suited to becoming a Jedi? Those who would allow their emotions and attachment to affect what they must do for the greater good? You’re correct that there are many paths for Jedi to pursue, but there is one crucial thing that all initiates, padawans, knights, masters, and grandmasters need: knowing when it’s the time to do the right thing and when to let go. They have not to let their personal feelings get in the way because when they make a wrong choice, and we all do, there are consequences, and while some may not be too serious, others can be catastrophic. 

“Well, who are you to decide who’s suited or not? And you can’t foresee all the choices because Yoda says the future is always in motion. Maybe you need to trust and believe in those of us who may not fit the mold of an ideal Jedi. Or better yet, how about your guide and teach us, especially those that seem ill-suited?” Anakin grabbed his head, and he felt the world tilt. Mace grabbed his arm to steady him. 

“Anakin. You need to calm—”

“No! Maybe if you had just believed in me and not berated me on how imperfect I was all the time, I could have made the right choice,” Anakin said, screaming his hurt and frustration. “I wouldn’t have been alone.” He felt something wet slide down his face and wiped snot and tears from his eyes in surprise. Anakin couldn’t remember what he had just yelled at Mace but felt unbearable anguish and pain.

Mace was silent. They stood unmoving until the growing twilight outshined the four moons of Coruscant.

“I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you or…judged you so harshly, and I admit I should not have alienated you from those important to you. And for that. I am sorry. The Force has given some of us the chance to do better in this galaxy. We can’t fix the past, but we can improve our present,” Mace said contemplatively.

Anakin looked up at Mace and saw his eyes glistening from the reflection of the brightening day. He looked exhausted, as Anakin felt. 

“I don’t feel pressured.”

Mace looked carefully at Anakin. “You don’t,” Maced repeated.

“Yeah, I mean, sure, your classes are tough, and you push all of us hard, but most of my clan love the courses you teach,” Anakin said, fidgeting.

“I…see. Do you remember what we’ve just been talking about?” Mace said aghast.

“Of course, sir. We were discussing how the Jedi are dumb. Uh, I mean giving more of us a chance to become Padawans. Change a bunch of other stuff.”

Mace stared at Anakin for a moment in disbelief before finally relaxing his shoulders with a deep sigh and turning toward the horizon.

“Anakin Skywalker, will you allow me to teach you?” Mace sighed, eyes squinting at the rising sun.

“You mean, be your Padawan?” Anakin asked in shock.

“Yes, although you still need to go through your initiate trails, and there will be changes, however slow it may be.”

“Sir,” Anakin struggled with how to respond.

 “You may call me Mace. We have a promise to keep to your mother, after all.”

“Mace,” Anakin said. There was a rightness in the Force. 

Chapter Text

Anakin woke up to someone pinching his nose and Aayla laughing.

“Petra, get off,” Anakin gasped out.

“But we’re so excited,” Aayla said joyfully as she walked toward him, squishing into his cot. She laughed and dodged as Anakin tried to wrestled Petra out of his sleeping space.

“Excited about what?”Anakin asked; he flopped down in defeat when Gungi sat on him and held him there with his Wookiee strength.

“It’s the day of the Gathering, you idiot! We are going to Ilum to get our lightsaber crystal. There is no way I’m going to miss our chance because you slept in. Grandmaster Yoda already sent two of us to get you.”

Anakin didn’t answer.

“We missed you at the refectory again. Where were you,” Petro asked. Anakin watched as his friend brushed his fingers through his brown hair and was strangely quiet. Petro’s family is from Corellia, and like many others in his creche, he grew up in the temple. Petro looked at Anakin with his forest-green eyes and barely concealed hurt, which he often masked with his combative temperament.

“I was with Jedi Master Windu again,” Anakin admitted. The last few months were a sandstorm of formal and informal preparation and formalizing his becoming Mace’s Padawan. One of them was getting used to a training bond. He continued to experience and see memories of the other Anakin, but nothing as strong as the night he and Mace spoke. 

Curious enough, one of the first things Mace wanted Anakin to work on was “Mental Fortitude” training. Anakin was sure Mace made that term up. However, last night, he spent time with Mace and another council member, Jedi Master Plo Koon, for dinner and meditation. It was recommended that Anakin work with healers to help him strengthen his mental walls. They explained it would help him resist any possible attacks or outside influences. It was a lot that Anakin didn’t understand yet, but it seemed super important to Mace that he practiced, and so he did.

“I thought Bear Clan stayed together,” Petro sulked. 

Anakin was surprised by this statement. Petro was usually very confident and often took the lead of their group of younglings, and it was unexpected to see him so clingy. 

“We are, and we will, but eventually, we have to go on missions, and we will have to go our separate ways, move out of the creche, no matter how we feel about each other,” Aayla said shyly. “Didn’t you say you’ll be the first of us to become a Padawan, and you’ll help and protect the rest of us?” She glanced at Petro.

Petro sighed. “Yeah, well. Who would have thought Anakin would be the first of us to go?

“Oh. Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Anakin said. He received multiple unimpressed looks from his friends. “Okay, I am, but I’m not leaving Bear Clan. Our clan will continue to work as Initiates and as Padawans. I think the council really listened to us and…as long as we understand not to let our attachment get in the way, we can all still be friends…if we want.” Anakin looked Petro in the eye as best he could. His friend sniffed.

“Best friends,” Anakin corrected.

“Ugh, fine,” Petro groaned. “But you all better not slack off. You’re not always going to have me to remind you of what we learned in class.”

“Oh really? Who was the one who fell asleep during meditation?” Aayla teased.

“Anakin,” Petro stated.

There was a lot of yelling and screaming after that as Petro relentlessly tickled Aayla, and Anakin was whisked away in his friends’ joy. He felt warm and happy. He thought of Anakin from his memories and how lonely he felt, and he promised his 10-year-old self and Anakin from his memories to always protect the relationship between him and his friends.

“There you all are! I’ve been told by Yoda to say, ‘Into hyperspace, we will go, leave them we will,’” another one of the initiates in Bear Clan yelled. Anakin and his friends grinned at each other, quickly got ready, and rushed out to join everyone else.

The Crystal Cave in Ilum was just like the memories of the other Anakin, but its beauty and coldness still took his breath away. Unfortunately, their ride on the transport ship left something to be desired. Perhaps it was the coldness of space, or he didn’t have much besides the food Aayla had saved for him that morning. Anakin was ready to tell whoever was driving the ship that they were an idiot. The ship lurched, and his head slammed against his seat and the inner wall of the ship as they entered the planet’s gravitational field.

“Chuba! Do you need help finding the repulsorlift drive?” Anakin shouted.

“You’re welcome to try, bantha brain.” A voice responded from the cockpit. Petro and Aayla oohed to Anakin’s frustration and lack of comeback. 

“Annoyed, are you, hmm?” Yoda asked. “Think you can do better, do you?”

Anakin had no answer to this, but considering he can drive speeders and shuttles just fine, driving a transport ship in space shouldn’t be all that difficult.

“A padawan, I have. Flying, he hates. Lots of complaining, he did. More practice, he shall have,” Yoda said, chuckling.

Anakin reminded himself not to complain in front of Yoda in the future.

The ship landed on the ice planet, and they all walked into the underground cavern. Meltwater streams carved a labyrinth of hollowed-out tunnels, and where the light touched the crystalline structures, it reflected like stars all around them. 

“See you on the other side,” Petro said, smirking at him. He and all the other younglings in his creche hurried through the labyrinths. 

Anakin let the Force flow through him and guide him. He knew to some extent what could happen during the Gathering. He had memories from the other Anakin; it seemed straightforward enough, but he soon realized it was not as simple as he thought. 

The Force guided him through a narrow passageway between two slabs of ice that opened to a large underground lake with the surface frozen over. Pockets of openings above the lake allowed light to shine through the top of the cavern, creating spotlights throughout the expanse of the cave. Anakin stared at where each beam of light hit until he saw one that shone the brightest. His heart thumped, and he felt the warm presence of the Force. It was his kyber crystal; it had to be. 

Anakin took a tentative step onto the ice, placed his other foot, and balanced his weight on the surface. He continued this pace until his feet touched a particularly slippery part of the ice, and he had to stop to regain his equilibrium. Looking up at the kyber crystal, he realized he had been no closer to it since he started moving. 

Surprised, he picked up his pace, forgoing balance, and slipped and slid toward the crystal. The distance to the crystal seemed the same. Taking multiple deep breaths and ignoring the shock of cold air, he ran as fast as he could and dove onto his stomach toward the crystal. It would have been fun to do any other time, but he was no closer to the crystal. He got up and tried again and immediately fell.

 Not discouraged, he stood up again and made a few more steps before falling again, but harder. The more he slipped and fell, the more determined and frustrated he became. He continued until he could feel bruises begin to develop on his arms and knees. The crystal was no closer despite his efforts. Frustrated, he slammed his fist on the surface and heard a rumble. A quick look and he realized he made a crack in the ice. 

“Poodoo,” Anakin said to himself, listening to his voice echo in the large cavern. The Force did not answer as if he should know what he was supposed to do. He lay there on the icy surface, feeling the cold seep through his layers until he heard a louder rumble and wetness soaking through his hair. Anakin felt a sudden urgency to hurry, so he suddenly sat up and made a large dash toward the crystal again. And fell again. He looked toward his kyber crystal in confusion. Why would the Force show him and not allow him to reach it, Anakin wondered. The crack in the ice reminded him he needed to hurry. The crack in the ice was getting larger and larger, and the sound was getting louder and louder. He scrambled up and immediately fell. “Why, why was this happening? Are you trying to test me,” Anakin yelled. His voice reverberated in the cave, and he heard what he shouted echo back at him. 

“Oh,” Anakin said sheepishly. “It’s the Rite of Passage,” Anakin’s face palmed. As the whole cavern shook and freezing water began to seep and splash through the widening icy surface, he closed his eyes and sat down on his knees. He always tried to rush and dive headfirst into whatever he did with a singular focus, and all that got him were bruises and hurt pride. 

Trust in the Force. 

With his eyes still closed, he stretched out his hand and waited. He heard the whistling of the crystal through the air and felt it hit his hand. 

“Yes!” Anakin shouted, rejoicing at the feel of the kyber crystal in his hand. This weapon is your life, he heard a voice say in his mind. He didn’t recognize it, but his heart did, even if his mind didn’t yet, and in that brief moment of contemplation, the ice beneath his feet gave way, and he plummeted into the icy waters.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan despised flying. His visions and memories, which had thus far depicted various versions of crashing, had not helped matters either. He had hoped reality would be different, but his lack of practice had become a self-fulfilled prophecy.

In addition, there’s been a change in the council. Recently, he noticed he’d been sent to other masters on missions and even joined the masters with padawans. For the last few months, he had hardly slept in his room at Grandmaster Yoda’s. Obi-Wan had seen more of Master Qui-Gon, especially now that his previous master was part of the council. He was over to discuss with Grandmaster Yoda often, and as hard as Obi-Wan had tried to avoid him, he’d be asked to join the two of them whenever Master Qui-Gon visited. 

They’ve also been taking turns taking him on missions. Today, it seemed, was Grandmaster Yoda’s turn, and he and Master Qui-Gon were walking to the hangar bay, anticipation and uncertainty flooding their bond for his next mission. 

Obi-Wan peered up at the tall man beside him and quickly looked away when Master Qui-Gon made eye contact.

“Padawan,” Master Qui-Gon said quietly, “Do you have something you wish to ask me?”

“No, Master Qui-Gon,” he replied.

“It will be good for you to have more practice piloting. I noticed your abilities to fly have gotten worse.”

Obi-Wan stopped walking in surprise but quickly recovered and picked up his pace.

“Padawan, you cannot avoid flying forever,” Master Qui-Gon stated, quickly catching up to him. They walked by a ship Obi-Wan had recently flown in, and they both stopped to look at the dents still littered all over. 

“I’m sorry, Master, I was distracted. You don’t have to worry about me,” Obi-Wan said, finding a long scratch on the ship’s side.

“As your master, it is natural I worry.

“But you’re not my master anymore.” Obi-Wan saw a tiny flinch from his previous master but swallowed his guilt. This has been an ongoing dynamic between them since he noticed them continuing on missions together, and the most glaring fact was that they still had a training bond. Obi-Wan couldn’t risk them continuing on the path where he would lose his master, even if their missions were primarily based on Coruscant. 

“Even so, you need to work through your feelings. You cannot let your fear guide you. I remember you were very proficient at flying until recently. I’m asking again if there is anything you wish to confide with me about this. I could help, and we could work through it together.”

“Yes, I mean no, Master Qui-Gon. I just need more practice,” Obi-Wan said quickly, slightly stunned at the slip of his tongue. He turned away and walked away from his master.

 Obi-Wan saw Grandmaster Yoda waiting by the transport ship with a few initiates and was grateful to have to stop talking with Master Qui-Gon. 

“The most tardy, you are not!” Grandmaster stated with a loud clack from his gimmer stick.

“Sorry for being late,” Obi-Wan responded with a jolt of surprise. Is he late or not? Obi-Wan wondered. It was rare to see and hear how irritated the Grandmaster was. 

“Waiting for four more initiates, we are. Late, only one really is. Sent three to get him, we did. Now all late, they are.”

“Perhaps we should send just one with a message from you, Master Yoda,” Qui-Gon suggested. Obi-Wan watched as the Grandmaster sent another initiate who seemed to jog slowly. 

“Obi-Wan, please head onto the ship and get it ready so you all can take off immediately.”

“Yes, Master Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan replied. He stepped away from the Grandmaster and into the ship and couldn’t help but look back at his masters. He didn’t think Master Qui-Gon noticed. With relief, he headed toward the cockpit and quickly motioned the remaining two initiates to follow him. One initiate, a Rodian, smiled shyly, looked up at him after entering the ship, and asked, “Are you Padawan Kenobi?”

Surprised that she knew his name, he nodded. When she continued to stare, he quickly added, “What’s your name?”

“My name is Ganodi,” she answered. Her black eyes were round and orb-like, and her green skin darkened by her cheeks as she continued to stare at him.

“Uhh, are you nervous about the Gathering?”

Ganodi tilted her head and started to look nervous. “Why would I be? I still have a couple more years before I have to worry about finding a master. I can go next time if I don’t get my lightsaber this time. Bear Clan will work hard together and help each other so we don’t ever have to get sent away.”

“But all of us here at the Jedi Temple help each other,” Obi-Wan said reassuringly, although he felt slightly hypocritical. It wasn’t too long ago that he was a desperate initiate looking for a master.

Realizing he was making everything worse by bringing up the Gathering when she seemed fine, Obi-Wan hurriedly asked, “Will you tell me about Bear Clan?”

Ganodi instantly brightened up. “Our creche-master says we work well together. But we do get into trouble a lot because of the pranks we pull, but we work hard, just like the other clans. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help thinking of Quinlin and the trouble he would lead many of them into.

“Bear Clan seems like a lot of fun to be a part of. Tell me, is there one among you or two that leads these adventures or pranks?”

She hesitated a moment but saw that Obi-Wan was genuinely interested. Ganodi nodded and said excitedly, “We all plan together, but there is one of us who is most daring and comes up with a lot of fun ideas to pull.”

Obi-Wan then felt her sadness in the Force. He could imagine how it would feel to be close to someone, even briefly, and then be left behind. Obi-Wan had overheard from various council members discussing a youngling who joined a creche two years ago. Many had complained to Grandmaster Yoda. 

“Are you worried he will forget you all?” Obi-Wan was familiar with these insecurities as he was the very last of his group to find a master, and that was barely considering most said no. Recently, a couple of initiates were told to leave, which caused a heated discussion in the council chambers. Master Yoda asked him to attend and observe this particular meeting.

“No! We are happy for him. He even told Grandmaster Yoda that some rules are dumb and we should all have more time to train to be a Padawan. And sending us away when we can still stay and become good Jedis is stupid.”

“He sounds fearless.” And daring. Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine ever talking in such a manner or standing up to someone in such a way with so much on the line. These initiates were only a few years younger than him, and he hoped they could all stay and find a master. 

“Although he’s also the reason why we are running late.”

Both of them heard Grandmaster Yoda again chastising the late initiates. Ganodi smiled brightly and asked him to come and meet all her friends later. Obi-Wan nodded and shooed her off before she caught Grandmaster Yoda’s attention.

Ilum was both ethereal in its beauty and flawlessly cold. He felt the nervousness creep up on him as he neared the planet’s gravitational field. Obi-Wan didn’t need to feel the initiates’ nervousness and anticipation. He felt one of the initiate’s force presence emanating such an overwhelming warmth. The Force hummed harmoniously, and the encompassing protectiveness nearly swept him away, and he almost forgot to hit the repulsordrive. The Force pulsed a warning, and he quickly adjusted his trajectory to avoid an even rougher entry into the planet’s atmosphere. He looked gratefully at Huyang, who secured all the lightsaber materials on the ship. The droid gave him a nod.

“Chuba! Do you need help finding the repulsorlift drive?” One of the initiates shouted. 

Instantly annoyed, Obi-Wan shouted back a matching response. Hopefully, Obi-Wan will not be judged harshly for his reply. He’s focusing on flying, after all.

Obi-Wan had his face covered in his hands when he heard Master Yoda approach him after they landed on Ilum.

“Rough that was but landed safely, you did. Meditate. Be ready, you should, if help we need.” Yoda gently pressed his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder carefully. “Improving, you are.”

“Thank you, Master Yoda.” Obi-Wan watched Master Yoda guide the initiates and give the same speech to all the initiates he always gives on their first time to the ice cavern. He felt their worry about the cavern entryway freezing over.

After they were gone for a while, Obi-Wan found a comfortable place to sit and meditate. He kept his face in the palms of his hands for a while. He thought back to the moment just before entering the gravitational field. Usually, the emotions he felt would knock him out or overwhelm him. Although he still got distracted this time, the warmth and protectiveness he felt in the Force were so soothing and comforting that he wanted to snuggle into them like he would a nerf-wool blanket.

Obi-Wan focused on those feelings, leading him to a calming presence. It radiated determination and focus. He followed the presence, keeping a respectful distance but close enough to follow the progress, and realized it must be one of the initiates. Quickly, he pulled back, embarrassed that he was essentially peeking into their trail. However, the Force felt so strong, and it became so turbulent that it was so natural to be pulled back in. As tumultuous as a storm in one moment, the sudden tranquilness shocked Obi-Wan. He felt like he was plunged into the eye of a storm and submerged in serenity. 

Help me. Obi-Wan’s eyes shot open, the voice echoing loudly in his mind. He didn’t remember Master Yoda calling after him, nor did Obi-Wan notice the other concerned initiates waiting for their friend. He ran like his life depended on it and found himself in a dead end. The cavern wall was solid ice, showing his reflection. He placed his hand on the freezing ice and pleaded to the Force. Please, I must get through. They need my help. 

Obi-Wan kept his hand on the ice until it burned, but he continued to slide his hands and then found the smallest fissure. Reaching for the Force, he breathed in the cold air, and with a yell, he punched through the fissure, blasted an opening in the frozen rock, and stepped through. 

Before him was a vast lake, slabs of broken ice crashing against each other on the surface. He didn’t need to search. He took off his jacket and threw it on a rocky ledge at the lake’s edge without looking and dove in.

In hindsight, he should have grabbed another coat, but his legs moved without his knowledge, and his heart thudded with ferocity, barely remembering to take off his fur coat before he dove into the lake. 

Obi-Wan was submerged in the frigid waters with no visibility, but even though the cold marred every physical sense, he knew where to swim. With his lungs burning, he allowed his heart to power each of his strokes into the deep recesses of the lake. 

There, suspended and glowing bright like stars, was a boy about his age. He clutched the kyber crystal in one hand and reached toward the surface with the other, the last air bubbles escaping his mouth. His eyes were closed, and he began to sink further, but Obi-Wan was faster. He reached out, wrapped his arms around the initiate, and hurried to the lake’s surface.

The large slabs of ice that were just a moment before in pieces were already reforming and freezing over. Obi-Wan wedged both of them through an opening in the lake and swam till he found a part of the lake’s frozen surface strong enough to hold their combined weight. Pulling on the Force, Obi-Wan dragged them both toward the rocky ledge nearest him with shaky arms. He immediately reached out for the Force again to get his coat and wrapped it around the shivering initiate, leaving Obi-Wan bereft of his jacket.

“It’s so cold,” the boy whispered, teeth chattering and lips blue. His eyes were closed and covered with frost.

Obi-Wan gathered him into his arms and held him as close as possible, sharing as much of his body heat as possible. He felt the boy begin to slip into unconsciousness. 

“Hey, stay with me. You have to stay awake. You just got your Kyber crystal. Huyang will teach you how to create your lightsaber, and you can finally experience the droid’s sarcastic remarks firsthand like the rest of us all had to.

Obi-Wan was rewarded with a smile and a dry laugh. He would have laughed along, too, but he was also beginning to feel sleepy.

“I much prefer sweetcakes,” the boy said, words slurring.

“Well, I’ll give you as many as you like.” Obi-Wan’s teeth chattered, and he began to shake. “I’ll even bring you the coveted sweetcakes from Alderaan. Just stay awake…”

However, Obi-Wan couldn’t hear the responses anymore because his eyes closed without permission, and he slumped over with the boy in his arms. 

Chapter Text

Qui-Gon walked past the Halls of Healing and stopped short of entering. He was not known to be a worrier or someone who paced, so he turned around and walked back toward where he came from.

“Oh, for Force’s sake, Qui-Gon, stop pacing and get inside,” Mace shouted. Qui-Gon turned to protest, but Mace had already returned to the healing hall. He heard Mace slam the door shut and overheard an irritated Healer, Vokara Che, scold him inside the room.

“Join us, you should,” Yoda said. Qui-Gon looked toward the Grandmaster and saw how patiently he looked at him. “Scaring the other younglings you are.”

Yoda motioned behind him towards the group of initiates still in their coats. They must have gone directly from their ship from Ilum to the healing halls.

Qui-Gon looked at the rather large group of younglings watching him with apprehension and concern. 

Farther down, he saw Padawan Vos charging down the hall but came to a screeching halt behind the other initiates when he caught Qui-Gon looking at him. Qui-Gon attempted a smile, but the young padawan barely concealed a scowl.

“Perfect timing, Padawan Vos,” Qui-Gon greeted softly.

Defeated and knowing what would be asked of him, the padawan took the initiative, looked at Qui-Gon with a sour expression, and motioned for all the initiates to follow him.

“Come on, you all should clean up, you smell. Master Qui-Gon will let us know how Anakin and Obi-Wan are doing.” A chorus of complaints trailed after Padawan Vos. “If you hurry, I’ll take you all to the refractory for desserts.”

This quieted them, but they all shuffled reluctantly away. They took turns looking back at Qui-Gon as if to run past the moment they saw an opening. He took a moment to ponder the apparent attachment between them all.

Qui-Gon walked into one of the observation decks in the healing halls and looked through the glass at his padawan and Mace’s padawan, whom Obi-wan had saved to his detriment, both submerged in their own bacta tanks. 

“Three months. I’d had my padawan for three months, and he already almost died.”

“Dramatic, you are being, Master Windu. Calm yourself, you must.”

“I will not calm down, Grandmaster. Do we need to give swimming lessons now? My padawan grew up on a desert planet and then ran around with pirates. Jack of all trades except for swimming. Whenever I think I have special lessons mapped up, I find another one I must add to his remedial list.”

“Send you both to Mon Cala, we will. Much practice, then you will have,” Yoda said seriously.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you upset over a padawan, Master Windu,” Qui-Gon observed.

Mace looked at him in disbelief, “I may have a reputation for being a hard-ass, but it’s normal to be concerned about others.”

“Language,” Yoda admonished. “Attached to your padawan, you already are. Careful, you must be.”

“I am well aware of our view of attachment, Master Yoda, but certain events have led me to believe we must reevaluate our views and definition of the Jedi Code. Are you not attached to all of us Jedi under your purview, especially your wayward padawan?

 Qui-Gon winced. Bringing up his old master usually elicited a response from their very old grandmaster, although it was shown through requesting all the masters drink his form of tea, purposely lengthening council meetings, or, worse, assigning them to work with those youths in the Senate dome. This has worked in Qui-Gon’s favor recently, as he disliked Obi-Wan going alone and spending so much time with those senators.

“A choice my padawan made. Knowing to let go, I did. Make this choice all masters must be prepared to do one day,“ Yoda said wisely

“You and I have a different definition of letting go. Perhaps, esteemed Grandmaster, if you tried harder or even tried to convince Dooku to stay, he’d still be here. Oh, that’s right, ‘there is no try,’ so why bother?”

And that was Qui-Gon’s cue to step in. “Masters,” he implored both parties, “Mace,” he whispered to his friend.

Both master and grandmaster looked away from each other and focused again on the two padawans suspended in the tanks, lost in their thoughts.

Qui-Gon watched Mace gaze at his padawan. “Perhaps Obi-Wan can accompany you as well. He could use some practice in swimming, although he did a great job rescuing your padawan in less than favorable conditions. The Force is strong with him, although I do wish he would be less self-sacrificing. A failing on my part to guide him in this.”

 Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan twitch in the tank, creating settled air bubbles to rise.

Mace watched Qui-Gon carefully, “I sense your apprehension and doubt in your abilities to teach Obi-Wan, and I won’t do you the disservice of lying and telling you that you haven’t made mistakes. You were hard on Obi-Wan and withheld praise when you should have done. He is so fond of you, and considering how you rejected him on many occasions before selecting him for your padawan, it is not a surprise he is so driven to please you. However, there’s more at play than the history you two share. We’ve all noticed a change in how he responds to his gift of foresight.” 

Mace stood beside him, and they all meditated and embraced the Force to clear their minds and calm their emotions before Mace continued his thoughts through the guidance of the Force.

“They’re young, but I see galaxy-affecting Shatterpoints in each of them. And now they’ve met each other.” Mace shared a look with Master Yoda.

“Mace, have you Seen something?” Qui-Gon asked. 

“The question should be, what have I not seen,” Mace replied, contemplatively. 

“Why have you not told the council? Why tell me now?”

“Qui-Gon, I hesitated to tell you because I know your feelings and views about the Living Force. I request that you see these two as who they are now rather than what they could be in the future.”

It was almost painful to admit that Mace could be right about his penchant for prophecies. Qui-Gon believed that any knowledge or foresight of the future had a place, regardless of their origins.

“Is this why you wouldn’t introduce me formally to your Padawan or even let me know his name?”

“A secret his name is not. Joined us late, but in the creche, Anakin Skywalker has been.” The grandmaster pointed at Qui-Gon, “More aware of temple matters you should be, a council member you are, now. All our Jedis, initiates, and younglings, you should know.” 

Qui-Gon reeled when he heard that name. He almost leaned against the observatory wall to protect himself from the effect. He felt the same as when he was with Obi-Wan and that cursed politician who visited the temple often. “I noticed the other younglings are becoming quite attached to Padawan Anakin. However, you still have not answered my question, Mace, on why you have not formally introduced him to me, as we have and will be working together often.” 

Mace sighed and looked resolutely into Qui-Gon’s eyes. “Like many of our younglings, Anakin is still learning to manage his emotions. He is eager to please, and I do not want him to be taken advantage of. Although Anakin is strong in the force and learns quickly, he has lived a life of enslavement and indentured service and needs the utmost care and attention for his mental state.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of such a focus on a youngling’s well-being in this manner.”

“And what does that say of all of us? Why haven’t we been focused on this more?” Mace asked, eyebrows furrowed. “We need to evaluate ourselves to ensure a better future for all of us in the Galaxy.”

Qui-Gon ceded Mace’s point. Despite the longwinded discourses in the council, they’ve been making a lot of progress. A calm settled between the three of them, each contemplating their thoughts.

An extensive series of beeping brought Qui-Gon’s attention back to the bacta tanks. They watched as healers prepped for Anakin to leave the tank and placed him on the examination table.

Obi-Wan was still in the tank.

“Healer Che said he’d have to stay in the tank longer due to the damage he received from his exposure to the freezing climate. As you have surmised, his sacrifice saved my padawan to his own detriment,” Mace explained. He placed a hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder. 

Allowing the warmth and comfort his friend freely gave him, he pondered and watched as the warm bacta tank worked quickly to heal Obi-Wan. He felt it would be a longer road to mend their relationship.

Chapter Text

Anakin heard the familiar beepings of droids—medical droids informing him about his condition and location. He was grateful and rather fond of the droids in the temple, each with its personality and quirks. Anakin sensed Mace and Yoda nearby. He insistently tugged at the still-new mental link connecting him to Mace and received a quick and prompt tug in return. 

He moved on and reached farther with the Force until he felt the calming presence of his friends in Bear Clan. They tackled him mentally with worry and relief, and he reassured them with the overpowering embrace of his Force presence. He found Vos nearby and received what he could only describe as a hand ruffling his hair through the Force. Relieved his friends were also safe, he brought his awareness back to his surroundings. He noticed two new presences.

One presence was like a tree. The kind with deep roots and fanned-out branches. It felt solid and familiar, and he wanted to lean against it. As he leaned in closer to the presence, he felt sadness and loss, and he didn’t know whose emotions they belonged to, so he began to withdraw. They reached back, though, tentative and highly mindful. Anakin let out a chuckle. It was definitely another Jedi and, most likely, another of Mace’s friends. 

Anakin sent a feeling of Do I know you? and received an aura of profound confusion in response. He felt Mace’s exasperation in the Force. Anakin laughed and imagined Mace creating yet another list of lessons, which probably would be titled “How not to communicate telepathically with people you just met” or “Etiquette on Telepathy.” He sent what he hoped was a feeling of reassurance to Mace, and he pulled away from the other presence. 

Yoda was next to greet Anakin and sent him what could be described as a gentle poke on the forehead. Anakin tended to get lost with Yoda. Yoda was like a mountain: solid, strong, and extremely widespread. Entering his mind was like stepping into the airway with transports heading in all directions. He’s reaching space, the planets within his grasp, no, the galaxy in the palms of his three-fingered hands.

Anakin felt Yoda guide him back into his mind, leaving him calm and pointing out how the Force flowed through them. He allowed himself to be held in that feeling for a while, trusting Yoda to take any opportunity to give him a lesson on meditation and guide him in one.

Anakin was content to continue to rest and meditate, and he did so until he felt Yoda, Mace, and the unknown Jedi leave. He may have also drifted off to sleep briefly as well. Still, really, he waited until he was alone before focusing on the final Force presence that not only shared his room in the healing hall but also undeniably was the one who saved him in the ice cavern of Ilum. 

Checking to see no one was around, Anakin sat up, stepped toward the bacta tank, and placed a hand on the glass. A mask obscured most of the other padawan’s face, but as he watched the other boy breathe through the mask, he felt like the room he stood in transformed. The cold, sterilized floor of the healing room was now rich soil covered with lush grass. Where there were metal walls and the beepings of medical equipment, he felt a cool breeze and the rustling of trees and flowers. 

From this presence, there was an assurance that spread and touched every surface, a promise that as the suns rose and set, so would the foundation of the world stay below their feet. 

Anakin stared, and he continued to stare. He was; Anakin swallowed, and it took him several times to properly acknowledge what his heart was trying to tell him.

This presence was beautiful, and he knew him. He had to. There was no rush of memories, no recall at the moment, or any previous knowledge to guide him, but he knew.

Anakin knows him, will know him, has always known him. Seeing this person caused him to free fall.

So Anakin closed his eyes and embraced that feeling. He allowed himself to be swept away. When he opened his eyes, he stood barefoot in a garden, surrounded by vegetation around the galaxy. A small path appeared before him, allowing him space through the small shrubs and flowers. As he continued down the path, the plant life increased in size. Large lilies turned and drooped their heads toward him, and leaves that fanned out as large as his head batted him on his shoulders and back as he walked. 

It carried on until Anakin wondered if he’d eventually be stopped by the sheer volume of plants. Then, an entryway opened before him, leading him to an arboretum with a vine-covered door. He heard the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting glass panels echo from within, so he placed his hands on the door and was surprised the door immediately opened. He walked through. 

There have been many stories of beautiful creatures, and having spent time with pirates, Anakin had heard his fair share of how they looked. However, they never described how it felt to see someone who seemed to change the very air one breathed or take away the ground beneath one’s feet.

The padawan who saved his life sat next to a windowsill framed by all manners of flora. They flourished in his aura, seeking his glance like they would toward any sun. He had one arm propped carelessly on top of one bent knee and was watching the rain. The other boy sat on a padded perch by the window a few steps above Anakin, so Anakin had to tilt his head slightly to look at him.

Anakin must have stepped forward because he felt a root snap below his feet, catching the other boy’s attention.

“Oh. Good, you are alive,” the boy greeted, stuttering in surprise.

“Uh. Yeah, thanks,” Anakin replied lamely, thrown off by the sudden attention. Silence permeated the room.

Then, they both started talking at the same time.

“You go ahead,” they both insisted. They looked away from each other. Anakin’s cheeks were warm, and he couldn’t figure out where to put his hands.

“Um. Thanks for saving me. I like being alive. I mean, I’m alive because of you. Hi, can we start over?” Anakin looked around for a hole to jump into.

The other boy laughed, and Anakin quickly promised to make him laugh as much as possible. 

“I will start then since you insist. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan to…that’s complicated at the moment, and since you are here in my mind, I am guessing I am with the living?”

Anakin nodded, not sure what happened to his words. Really, what has gotten into him?

“Well, of course I am, or you would not be here. What a silly question to ask,” Obi-Wan said, words rushing quickly out of his mouth. He placed his hand on his forehead and dragged it through his red hair before smiling sheepishly at him. “I do not get many visitors here. I am surprised my mind allowed you in.”

“I have that effect on people.” Anakin smiled, feeling more at ease.

“Wow, cocky, too.”

“Hey, it wasn’t easy getting here. I had to walk through kissing lilies and handsy leaves.”

“Oh dear. How did you survive?” Obi-Wan tried to stifle his laughter but couldn’t stop grinning widely at Anakin. 

“There was a path, ”Anakin said, looking back toward the vine-covered door. “It led me to you.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened, and he quickly raised a hand to cover his face, although it failed to hide the redness blooming across his face. 

Anakin cleared his throat and looked away.

“Interesting place,” Anakin nodded as he looked around the arboretum.“Are we…in a garden within a garden, that sort of thing that goes on and on? You know, like pipes that lead to nowhere.”

“You would be stuck here forever if that were the case.”

“Oh no, I’d die of boredom with all the plants.”

“You take that back. Plants are plenty interesting.”

“Interested in accosting you, maybe.” Anakin was pleased to see a flower dip close to Obi-Wan as they spoke. Obi-Wan noticed and batted it away. It drooped as if sad, which Anakin then had to resist, bursting out with laughter when Obi-Wan apologized to a plant. 

“What is happening outside?” Obi-Wan asked, still looking at the plant.

“You’re still in the tank. They had to put you in a healing trance.”

“What? Why?”

“You gave me your coat,” Anakin replied matter-of-factly, remembering Obi-Wan also keeping him warm in his embrace. But he bit his tongue before he embarrassed himself further.

“Ah, so I’m basically a popsicle,” Obi-Wan said, sighing as if that was just a mere annoyance rather than a life-threatening condition. Anakin snickered. Obi-Wan joined in. Then, they were both doubled over in laughter. Anakin didn’t know why that statement, given everything they had said so far, was so funny, but it took all the tension away from them both.

Catching their breaths, they stared at each other until Obi-Wan broke the silence.

“When I meditate, I try to come here to deal with all the jumbling thoughts.”

Anakin looked at what Obi-Wan had built in his mind and wondered what he was trying to keep out that would warrant creating such a place, however peaceful it was.

“What type of jumbling thoughts?”

Obi-Wan seemed taken aback by the question. 

“That is rather forward.”

“Well, when in another mind, one asks forward questions,” Anakin motioned around the arboretum. Anakin doubted Obi-Wan would respond with the amount of time he waited but watched as the other padawan took a breath and seemed to decide.”

“I get…premonitions and impressions.”

“You get visions?” Anakin’s heart began to beat faster.

“Sometimes, although it is rather confusing at times...and distracting.”

“I’m glad I’m not distracting, then.”

This rendered Obi-Wan speechless.

“Are you usually this direct?”

“Yes.”

“That was a rhetorical question.”

Anakin hummed in response.

They fell into a more peaceful silence, and Anakin was content just to sit.

“Will you tell me your name?”

Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan and saw the shy smile, but Anakin felt a warning from the Force.

Obi-Wan raised his head, and their eyes met. His smile dropped from his face as he watched Anakin hesitate. Lightning flashed through the window, promising an oncoming storm.

“I’m an initiate and part of Bear Clan, but I’m much older than my other creshemates.”

“What is your—” Obi-Wan tried to interrupt him, but Anakin plowed through.

“And I will be apprenticing to Mace Windu, so you’ll see me a lot more soon. I wonder if your Jedi Master is friends with mine.”

The rain fell harder against the panel, signaling the storm’s increase in intensity.

“Born on Tatooine, enslaved and liberated, floated around with pirates. Met Jedi Master Tholme and his padawan. Or I guess it is the other way around.”

Anakin doesn’t know if Obi-Wan caught any of his introduction as he was rushing. Still, he felt it imperative to give as much information as possible about himself.

Thunder struck the arboretum, causing Anakin to flinch, and the arboretum windows began to rattle from the wind and rain.

“Maybe you shouldn’t sit so close to the window.” Anakin noticed Obi-Wan’s eyes glazing over, and one of his hands gripped his head in pain. “Obi-Wan?”

The storm raged, and the rain was now hammering against all the arboretum’s glass panels. The window by the windowsill threatened to burst, and Anakin instinctively moved towards Obi-Wan, his feet propelling him. Anakin made it to the windows just as they shattered, blocking most of the broken glass from raining down on them.

The wind was messing with their hair, but Anakin only registered the person before him. Obi-Wan’s eyes were deep blue-gray, and they looked terrified. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered. And suddenly, the wind and rain stopped. He felt Obi-Wan shift his body and watched as his eyes returned to the present. Anakin moved away and watched the arboretum fix itself around them. Only some glass shards remained, a memory of what was damaged in the storm.

“Please, will you tell me your name?”

Light filtered in behind Obi-Wan as they both stood up. Anakin could see the sun peaking through the storm clouds, casting light and shadow around Obi-Wan’s face through the newly repaired windows. 

“Anakin. My name is Anakin Skywalker.” He watched Obi-Wan slowly give him a mournful smile.

“Thank you.” 

Anakin barely heard Obi-Wan’s reply. He felt a gentle press of the Force, and then he was carried backward through the arboretum’s door. He gasped in surprise, and suddenly, he was back in the healing hall, sitting on his bottom in front of the tank. He looked at Obi-Wan accusingly, demanding an explanation for the sudden rejection.

There was no response from Obi-Wan besides the fluttering of eyelashes and the flow of reddish-brown hair moving like waves in the thick liquid. He sat there looking at Obi-Wan for a few more moments until he started to feel cold. 

Lying back down on his side of the healing room, Anakin rubbed the phantom feel of the Force that still lingered on his chest. He went through their conversation in the arboretum a few times, and then he revisited the moments he spent in the lake in the heart of Ilum. 

Anakin remembered someone reaching for him in the Force long before he felt Obi-Wan’s arms encircle him. He looked at Obi-Wan, still in a healing trance in the bacta tank, most likely still fending off cuddling flowers. Anakin let out a frustrated sigh. Despite being busy spewing his life story, he did notice the way Obi-Wan reacted to his name. 

Anakin fought to stay awake a bit more. He had a feeling this was the closest he could be next to Obi-Wan for a while. Obi-Wan’s padawan braid was still very new, so perhaps they would have overlapping lessons now that Anakin was starting his apprenticeship. He finally allowed the rhythm of Obi-Wan breathing through his mask to lull him into sleep. 

That night, Anakin dreamed. He dreamed of starships and planets he’d never visited. Anakin dreamed he stood alone amidst downed buildings, droids, and faceless bodies, his blue lightsaber the only thing leading him down a path littered with broken pieces like his shattered heart. Anakin dreamt of red hair like fire and eyes that could mend and soothe his troubled soul if he could only fully look at them.

Chapter Text

“So, you were a living popsicle,” Bail inquired before being interrupted, but he moved to make room for Padme to join him and Obi-Wan at a table they picked at the Jedi Temple’s refectory.

“I can’t believe you got us entry to the library,” Padme said excitedly. She shoved her lunch between Bail and Obi-Wan, forcing Bail to move across their table to give them more room.

“Why you are surprised is a surprise in itself, Padme. I did use the ‘I almost died’ line like you suggested on Master Jocasta Nu. She said we can stay as long as we like today, so long as we behave,” Obi-Wan replied. He hated to admit it, but despite his reservations, it worked like a charm, no mind tricks necessary, not that that would have worked.

Padme squealed and smiled happily. Today, her hair was in twin buns decorated with dark purple and silver ribbons on both sides. She wore a lilac-colored dress that fluttered every time she moved. Tiny silver beads were sewn in swirls down her dress, matching how her ribbons swayed against her head when she moved. A heavy velvet shawl in deep purple draped casually around her shoulders. 

Bail also wore a casual outfit: a gray long-sleeved shirt with a hunter-green overcoat that made him look rather dashing, especially with the silver cufflinks that peaked under his coat sleeves. Obi-Wan looked down at the blue-accented Jedi robes he’d been accustomed to wearing since he first met his two friends, although he opted for a lighter tabard and felt secretly pleased with how they all complimented each other with their choice of colors.

“You were missed at the senate. Senator Palpatine has been constantly asking for updates from the Jedi Council to no avail,” Bail reported.

Obi-Wan was moved that someone so busy as the senator would think to ask about him. He had barely heard much from Master Qui-Gon since he first left the healing halls.

“Bail and I were very worried,” Padme stopped smiling and looked at Obi-Wan seriously after quickly glaring at Bail. He would have been alarmed at her sudden change of demeanor, but he had sensed her concern and relief since they first saw one another, and it had never left despite her joy for seeing each other.

“I don’t mean to imply we weren’t worried,” Bail quickly added. It’s just that unlike us, who have other ways to communicate with you, the senator doesn’t.” 

Obi-Wan was grateful for the comlink Padme gave him. They sent messages through the holonet like anyone would, but the comlink was more secure and was just for the three of them.

“Oh, should I message him?” Obi-Wan suddenly thought to ask.

“No,” Padme said adamantly. When Obi-Wan looked at her with surprise, she sighed. “He’s a busy man, and I think he should receive information from the council.”

“Perhaps, although sending a short message of thanks for his inquiries would be both polite and not time-consuming to read,” Obi-Wan said as diplomatically as possible. He received a forced smile from Padme.

“Will we see you more often in an official capacity again?”Bail asked when he saw Padme and Obi-Wan at a standstill.

Bail looked at him expectantly. Obi-Wan was unsure how to respond. Technically, a knight has been taking his place since he was recovering. There were also missions and training he’d been focusing on with different masters. He almost groaned when he thought of the lessons he’d have to catch up on when he started attending those again.

“It would have to take place after I caught up on my studies.

“What exactly happened? The Jedi Council was so hush-hush about it all,” Padme asked.

“Watching a rebuffed senator manage his irritation after each inquiry was educational and entertaining, although it did double the work for all of us,” Bail said.

“Let’s not speak of the senator anymore today,” Padme interrupted. We’re not here for him. We’re here for Obi-Wan.” She punctuated her soft demand with her hands on both Bail and Obi-Wan. Bail smiled, and Obi-Wan felt a rush of fondness for his friends.

Obi-Wan had missed them, their camaraderie. 

“So, back to you being a living popsicle?” Bail said again, adding levity to their conversation.

“What,” Padme exclaimed.

“I was frostbitten and hard in some areas,” Obi-Wan explained.

“Hard,” Padme repeated; she gently placed her hands over her lips and snickered.

“I do not know what you are implying with your snickering, Padme, 

“Wouldn’t you break apart if they dropped you,” Bail asked seriously.”

“Only parts of me were frozen—solid, so they had to put me in the tank.”

Padme burst into laughter. While her laughter sounded like bells, he was irritated and did not care how wonderful she sounded.

 “Padme, must you be like this? I was almost dead.”

Padme was trying to catch her breath and failing. Nearby, padawans and some knights were watching them curiously. Padme cleared her throat and sat up straight. Then, she turned and gave them a smile and a wink at those watching her. Obi-Wan noticed the knights rolling their eyes at the apparent deflection, although they continued smiling as they looked away. 

Obi-Wan saw a lot of the padawans were blushing. Unfortunately, some looked brave enough to want to walk over to introduce themselves. Obi-Wan tipped their cups with the Force, spilling their drinks. He turned toward Padme again. 

“Must you flirt here? We are eating,” Obi-Wan hissed.

“Says the pot to the kettle,” Padme said blithely toward Obi-Wan.

“I do not flirt,” Obi-Wan said adamantly.

Bail snickered this time, and Obi-Wan looked at him as if he were betrayed.

“Well, you’re a quick study. You’re still at the stage where you flirt unknowingly, which can be devastatingly charming. I can’t imagine what you’d be like when you use it with purpose,” Padme teased.

“I imagine I’d be like a politician,” Obi-Wan replied.

Padme gasped, hand placed on her heart, and the three filled the air with their laughter.

They had to finish lunch after that because they were quickly ushered away from the refectory.

Their trip to the archives, or library, as Padme would call it, was unrushed and enjoyable. The massive views of the skyline and the centuries of artwork and architecture the Jedi Temple had to offer gave them plenty of opportunities to admire and catch up with each other during Obi-Wan’s time away from them. 

“You could make a lot of credits opening this up to people,” Padme said after they arrived at the library’s entrance.

“Knowing the Jedi, it’d be free,” Bail said.

“Wait till you see the gardens in the Room of a Thousand Fountains,” Obi-Wan shared exuberantly.

“Now you sound like Padme talking about the library,” Bail said, chuckling.

Master Jocasta Nu was a no-nonsense Jedi Council Member who allowed no silliness in her Jedi Temple Library. Obi-Wan hoped that his recent and upcoming trips to the archives would endear him to her. She allowed them their quiet study area tucked away in a corner, for which he was grateful.

“Was it everything you wished for,” Obi-Wan asked.

“Yes,” Padme replied.

They all settled into their readings and got comfortable at the table.

“Now, tell me why you are so excited about the library,” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Bail, could you give us a moment,” Padme said, giving Bail an apologetic look. 

Bail looked at Padme with curiosity but got up. 

Obi-Wan watched Bail wander to a section a ways away before Padme gathered her thoughts. 

“There are files about the galaxy I’m looking for that I know the Jedi Temple has available.”

“But Naboo has the same access to the files available about the galaxy as well,” Obi-Wan said.

“True, but certain files are becoming inaccessible or more difficult to acquire,” Padme said.

“You are here to get information about your planet,” Obi-Wan said with surprise.

Padme placed a finger over her lips and scooted closer to Obi-Wan. “I’m looking for specific information.” 

“You are not very forthcoming about this.” They live in a galaxy that prides itself on having information accessible from the inner to the outer rim.

“Look, Obi-Wan, I can’t tell you everything yet. I promise I’ll tell you more after researching a bit more.”

“What does Senator Palpatine think about all this,” Obi-Wan asked.

“I haven’t talked to him about this,” Padme admitted. “Could you keep this between us for now?” 

Obi-Wan opened and closed his mouth but decided to push for an answer anyway.

“Why have you not asked him, Padme? Senator Palpatine would have access. He could easily give you all this information.”

Padme scooted closer and lowered her voice.

“It’s uncomfortable to ask. As you know, I lost the election to become the next Queen of Naboo.”

Obi-Wan also knew this was still a sore subject for Padme, and she rarely spoke of it. He placed his datapad down to give her his full attention.

“I did win, but the council on Naboo used a loophole to remove me from office before announcing my win.”

Obi-Wan looked at her with surprise and motioned her to continue.

“The senator called for an emergency meeting on the night we were waiting for results. He argued I wouldn’t be able to handle the rigor of being queen and called for no-confidence before I even started ruling!”

“No confidence,” Obi-Wan repeated. Obi-Wan’s ears started to ring, and his eyes blurred. He shook his head several times to help him focus on what Padme was still saying.

“Where did you get this information?” Obi-Wan asked. He noticed Padme was quietly eyeing him with concern and motioned for her to continue. The phrase “no-confidence” kept repeating in his head.

“Naboo’s Governor, Sio Bibble, told me. He was there that night when the senator called for the meeting. He was also supposed to lead our program but fell suddenly ill.” 

 What Padme said about Naboo was oddly familiar to Obi-Wan, even though it was the first time he heard about her being queen of Naboo. His head started to ache, and his heart rate sped up. It was also odd that Senator Palpatine called for no confidence in Padme. Anyone can see how skilled Padme is and could do the job of a senator better than those currently elected on other planets. The buzzing in his ears increased. It was getting hard to keep his eyes open.

He braced for the onslaught of a vision or, force forbid, another memory; however, suddenly, he felt the vision or memories slip away, leaving him empty.

“Obi-Wan,” Padme shouted. Her voice sounded slightly panicky and raspy, as if she had been calling him for a while. She held Obi-Wan’s hand between hers, and he looked down at it, not realizing when she grasped it. His hands were cold, and he felt numb.

“I think we should go to the healers.”

“No,” Obi-wan said quickly. 

“Then we should contact your master. Maybe you’re still affected by what you went through.”

“No,” he repeated, although softly this time. He looked away. “I just need a moment.”

Padme looked like she wanted to say something.

“I’ll go get you some water. You also didn’t have much to eat.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “You should probably check on Bail,” which caused Padme to smile in response.

After Padme left, he tried to push down his irritation at himself. Plenty of datapads and flimsy laid on the table available to him. He could read, but he just sat and meditated. Obi-Wan thought of his garden, which eventually led his thoughts to Anakin. 

Right, Anakin, who batted away his mental defenses like they were his own. He was losing his grasp of pushing away his visions and being inundated with an overflow of emotions. Obi-Wan could not help but say that the initiate—no, Padawan—made him feel like he was sitting on clouds just by smiling at him. Anakin held himself with extreme confidence, which made Obi-Wan feel slightly envious. He thought of the smile Anakin gave him.

Obi-Wan immediately covered his mouth with his hand, and he could feel how warm his face was getting. He had the last few months to try not to think about Anakin, especially when his body would react in this manner when he thought of him. Obi-Wan enjoyed their conversation immensely. Anakin was straightforward to talk to, and his fellow padawan made him feel giddy, like when he ate too many sweets. 

 He should be focusing on his apprenticeship and his assignment to the senator. Obi-Wan put his elbow on the table and propped his head up with his hand. Did Anakin already start his training? Obi-Wan wondered what lessons the padawan liked best or if he had gone off the planet yet. Should he talk to him? Would Anakin even want to talk?

The problem was that he had seen a version of Anakin in his dreams, and whatever he felt from this other Obi-Wan would leave him awake, crying, and heartbroken when he woke. Heartbreak. Obi-Wan had not even kissed anyone yet and was already experiencing heartbreak from an older version of himself. He didn’t have time for heartbreak.”

There’s a dissonance between the two Anakins, and Obi-Wan does not know the best course of action with the Anakin he met. This Anakin seemed different than his memories, but his memories had been off lately.

The Anakin he saw from the other Obi-Wan did not run with pirates, which was very cool, he secretly admitted, nor did the Anakin he saw apprentice with Mace. So what do these memories or visions mean for Obi-Wan? It didn’t help that things got jumbled for him.

Obi-Wan ran his hands through his hair a few times in frustration. He was still not over the visions of his Jedi Master dying, which was still a problem he needed to mitigate. He sighed and leaned his head back on his chair, looking up at the high ceiling of the Jedi Temple Library. He indulged himself, bent his chair back since no masters were around to scold him, and balanced it on the chair’s back legs. In moments like these, when he allowed himself to ponder, he wished he could remember or understand why this other Obi-Wan was so heartbroken. He sighed again. Maybe it was a warning: Anakin, the heartbreaker.

“Wow, you already have a reputation, Anakin,” a familiar voice said. He said those words out loud! Obi-Wan slowly tilted his head back and saw Aayla and Anakin.

It was as if Anakin was summoned. Obi-Wan lost his balance, and his chair fell backward, crashing and taking Obi-Wan down with it.

“Um. Hello,” Obi-Wan greeted, slightly dazed and looking up at Aayla and Anakin from the ground, but Aayla didn’t seem to think anything of it, nor did she seem to think to help him up. Obi-Wan purposely did not look at Anakin.

“It’s Padawan Aayla, now,” Aayla said proudly.  

“Oh, congratulations. Does Vos already know?” Obi-Wan asked, attempting to stand and getting tangled up with the chair. 

She nodded enthusiastically. “It’s actually with Master Tholme! We are going to be one of the first threesomes.” 

Obi-Wan watched Anakin slap a hand to his face. A quick whisper from Anakin to Aayla’s ear spurred Aayla to correct speedily, blushing terribly, “We will be the first group to have two padawans to one Jedi Master!”

Obi-Wan didn’t have time to laugh at Aayla’s expense, nor did he understand what the term meant, but he had other pressing matters to attend to. He felt his legs weaken and was back on the ground from his attempt to get untangled from a chair. Should he roll to the other side of the table and run, he wondered? 

“Would you like a hand, Obi-Wan?”Anakin asked kindly. He reached out to Obi-Wan, but the action spurred Obi-Wan to roll and stand up. Unfortunately, he banged his head on the table’s edge in the process, which unsurprisingly landed him on the floor again. Well, he might as well stay here; it was not like he could fall any farther this way.

“I am quite fine, thank you,” Obi-Wan said, stumbling over his words. 

“No, you’re not,” Anakin said, huffing. He grabbed Obi-Wan’s arm, and the next moment, he was hefted up to his feet. Anakin held him there until Obi-Wan found strength in his legs. Anakin was a few years younger, but Obi-Wan had to lift his head slightly and was sucked into the brown eyes of the boy before him like a ship in a tracker beam. 

“Thanks for your assistance,” Obi-Wan said, eyes not breaking contact. Are they brown? He should study it more, for accuracy’s sake.

“Have you already met Anakin?” Aayla asked, directing her question to Obi-Wan.

No, not just brown, he thought. Anakin’s eyes had splotches of blue.

“Obi-Wan,” Aayla repeated.

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, we have met.” If you look at it from a certain point of view, they have met many times. 

“Is your head alright,” Anakin asked sincerely. His touch was feather-light as Anakin swept Obi-Wan’s fringes to the side to look at the blooming bruise on his forehead, a souvenir from hitting the table. 

“Where’d you meet?” Aayla asked. She gripped one of her lekku, a sign he knew that she was getting impatient when Obi-Wan didn’t answer and turned toward Anakin to prompt a response from him.

Obi-Wan felt like he was floating, and everything seemed to move slowly. His hair fell back into place, and he felt warmth sink into his arm where Anakin made contact. A glance helped him register that Anakin was still grasping his arms after helping him up.

“Anakin, where did you two meet?” Aayla repeated loudly.

“We met. In Ilum,” Anakin said. “Aayla, he’s the one that saved me,” Anakin said, finally releasing Obi-Wan’s eyes by looking at Aayla.

Aayla’s eyes widened. 

Anakin’s response snapped Obi-Wan out of his thoughts and pulled himself out of Anakin’s grasp. Then, to Obi-Wan’s discomfort, Aayla bowed and thanked him. He felt through the force the mixture of emotions from her.

Thrown by the sudden solemn atmosphere, Obi-Wan stood there momentarily without words until he heard Anakin clear his throat and repeat the same gesture.

“It’s fine!” Obi-Wan said, a little louder than he intended. The three of them stood there. Obi-Wan kept trying not to look at Anakin, who watched him curiously. 

“Will you be starting lessons again,” Anakin asked.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied. He must have hit his head harder than he thought because he now seemed limited to one-syllable answers.

“I heard they finally released you from the healing halls recently. I stopped by the healing halls before leaving on my first mission with Mace, but they wouldn’t let me in.”

There was that giddy feeling again. Obi-Wan felt his face flush hot.

“You’re face is getting red. Are you feeling ill again? Can we get you anything? You don’t seem well,” Anakin’s eyes were focused on him like lasers. 

“No need to trouble yourself. One of my friends will be back soon,” Obi-Wan said, hoping he sounded convincing and reassuring.

“Your friend,” Aayla repeated. She looked at the table where he, Bail, and Padme were sitting, littered with datapads and flimsy. She then looked at Obi-Wan, face unreadable.

“Yes, my friend will return soon, so you do not need to worry,” Obi-Wan repeated. At least he was speaking in longer sentences again, even if he was repeating himself.

Anakin frowned. “What kind of friend would leave you alone if you aren’t feeling well.”

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow and frowned. “A kind friend who is bringing back refreshments because she also thought I didn’t seem well.”

Anakin made a sour look and mouthed the word “she,” but he quickly took deep breaths and replaced it with an embarrassed smile.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. That is kind of her to do for you.”

Feeling appeased, Obi-Wan looked at Anakin again and smiled. The smile he received in return was blinding. He felt like someone had thrown him into the air and suspended him.

“Okay,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

“Okay, well. Good to see you, Obi-Wan. Anakin, we have to go to our next lesson. We can’t be late again.” Aayla said, tugging on Anakin’s dark robes.

“I’ll see you around?” Anakin asked.

“Yes, of course. Next week.”

“Great.”

They all continued to stand there until Aayla physically pulled Anakin away. He turned and looked back at Obi-Wan, who kept standing until they turned a corner. He could no longer hear or see Anakin, so he collapsed into a still-upright chair and put his hand in his hands.

“Wow,” Padme said, suddenly behind him.

Obi-Wan tried not to jump in surprise but had no success. She was holding an armful of snacks that looked like they were placed there haphazardly and a bag full of drinks.

“Padme, please tell me you haven’t been standing nearby this entire time.” Obi-Wan sat down and put his head in his arms on the table.

“It would have been odd if I suddenly turned the corner during your discourse,” Padme explained.

“Ugh. Put me back in the tank, Padme. That was so embarrassing.”

“It’s really not.”

“Padme, you do not need to lie to me to spare my feelings.”

“I’m not lying. Here, drink and eat this please.” She sat down and gave him the stash of nourishment she had acquired. While he ate and drank the juice, Padme explained she ran into some padawans they saw at the refectory. Those other padawans had hoped to join her at the library. 

“How many hearts did you break when you told them you would share these snacks with me and then sent them on their way?”

Padme laughed. She motioned him to continue eating. “I told them I would meet with them at the refectory the next time I visit. It was very thoughtful of them to share.”

“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you smile like that when speaking to someone,” Padme said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He leaned against her, letting her help ground him.

“I smile with you and Bail.”

“True, but it took some time. You seemed so carefree with that boy just now.”

“But, I could hardly speak with him around. You saw me. I was a total idiot,” Obi-Wan lamented, groaning into Padme’s shoulder.

They sat there together, content in each other’s company. They heard the rustling of clothing and quick footsteps, and a sweaty, concerned Bail barreled into them.

“I finally found my way back to you again,” Bail cried, hugging them both, “Next time we all go together.”

Obi-Wan smiled and hugged both his friends. Perhaps things could continue to improve, and he could make friends with Anakin. If things didn’t go well, he’d avoid Anakin as he did with Master Qui-Gon. For now, he wanted to hold onto those feelings he got when Anakin was around.

“How long are we going to keep hugging,” Padme muffled.

Bail let go, and their giggles echoed in the corner of the temple.

Chapter Text

“It’s blue like the oceans on Mon Calamari,” Aayla argued.

“No, it’s blue like the lakes on Aldaraan,” Petra insisted.

Aayla and Petra turned their faces to Anakin and waited expectantly. The three sat on one of the benches outside the Jedi Temple courtyard, doubling as the training ground with the sheer amount of space. They were waiting with their peers for their lightsaber combat lesson to start. He and his friends picked a spot near the Uneti tree, which was said to have been moved from the first Jedi temple in Uck-to.

Staring at the yellow leaves and aging branches from where he sat, Anakin felt many emotions, mainly from the other Anakin, about this place; however, it was one of the places he still enjoyed being despite the sorrowful emotions he felt from the other Anakin.

After getting his kyber crystal from Ilum and then deciding to be Mace’s junior padawan, Anakin decided to approach these emotions by tackling the location that triggered them. He would be going on his first mission soon and didn’t want to be distracted constantly. His friends had gotten used to repeating themselves or prodding him with the Force in lessons when he would zone out, but he couldn’t always depend on being able to be partnered with them. Speaking of, he felt such a prodding now.

“Anakin, Anaaaakin,” Aayla  said. Anakin refocused on his friend’s understanding face. He saw Petra mouth “ocean” and “lake” at him while motioning with each of his hands from next to Aayla. 

“I’ve not been around lakes on Aldaraan or oceans yet, so I don’t know which is more accurate for mine. I would say both are good descriptions for yours,” Anakin ended his statement like it was a question when he saw the dissatisfied look on his friends’ faces. 

All three of them had a different shade of blue kyber crystals. When Anakin first activated his lightsaber, he was so in awe of the color. It differed from the other blue kyber crystals that most other initiates in his clan carried, especially in terms of how light the color was in comparison. 

“What about icy blue,” Anakin said when friends continued to argue. Luckily, he was saved from having to continue their argument when the door to the courtyard slid open. Yoda walked in with a whole crew of Senior Padawans. They were joking around and laughing good-naturedly with each other until they saw all the initiates and junior padawans staring at them. Some gave them grins, and others commented on how “cute” and “tiny” they all were. Honesty, Anakin was so sick of being referred to as cute. He had been getting rather tall recently and had unofficially been the one to get things high up when the other Jedi Masters were around and forbid them from using the Force for such “frivolous things” as getting a book from the library. 

Yoda cleared his throat and motioned for them to gather all around him.

“Most forms you have learned,” Yoda said. “Choose one to specialize in, you can. Guide you more, Jedi masters will. All forms you must still learn. Today, practice all forms and spar together we will. Assistance, senior padawans, and I will give you.” Yoda glanced at the door and frowned before ushering everyone to warm up.

They broke into groups of two throughout the courtyard. Anakin, Aayla, and Petra stayed in a group of three. He curiously watched the senior padawans stretch and work through the different forms.

“Anakin!” Aayla whisper-shouted. She looked at Anakin meaningfully, but he didn’t understand why she was so excited. It wasn’t until he realized the door to the courtyard slid open again, and he watched a flustered Obi-Wan walk through the door, robe billowing, that Anakin realized what Aayla was going on about.

“Late you are, Padawan Kenobi,” Yoda greeted. His smile softened his scolding.

“I am right on time, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan said, attempting to look unfazed.

“Said that, I just did.” Yoda turned to all of them. “Arrived early, all initiates did. On time they are.”

Anakin thought Yoda was somewhat hypocritical as Yoda and the Senior Padawans were technically also late.

“I apologize, Master Yoda. Initiates,” Obi-Wan replied, nodding and bowing to all of them. He looked over at the crew of senior padawans, who just smirked or shook their heads at him in greeting. 

“A Senior Padawan, Padawan Kenobi, is not. However, assist all of you, he still can. Trains with the senior padawans he does. Ask him for help; you should.”

When Yoda turned away to speak with the senior padawans, Anakin heard different initiates giggling and whispering to each other as Obi-Wan started removing his dark blue outer robe. He tossed it toward one of the benches by the door and surveyed the extensive training grounds. Anakin wished he had chosen the seats near the door. 

Ganodi shyly raised her hand and called out for Obi-Wan, her green tubular ears moving tentatively, large black eyes blinking. She smiled pleasantly when Obi-Wan looked in her direction. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened with recognition, and he smiled in return. As he walked toward her, Anakin wished he also sat near Ganodi.

“Anakin, ask him for help,” Aayla said, shoving Anakin’s arm. Petra looked at her and frowned.

“Why? I don’t need help,” Anakin said, his eyes following Obi-Wan as he greeted and chatted with Ganodi.

“That’s not the point!”

“Why are you asking Anakin to ask Kenobi,” Petra asked. He turned and looked at Obi-Wan alongside Anakin and Aayla.

“I don’t have time to tell you right now, Petra,” Aayla responded.

Anakin noticed Obi-Wan looked much more energetic than last week when they ran into each other in the archives. His complexion was healthier, and his cheeks were slightly rosy, most likely from rushing outside to the training grounds. 

Anakin kept staring until he saw Ganodi activate and light her lightsaber. Obi-Wan smiled and adjusted her grip, chatting all the while. Anakin looked at his firm and sure grip on the lightsaber he’d summoned from his belt with the Force a few seconds earlier without thought.

“Just call him over, Anakin! You clearly want to talk to him.”

“How do Ganodi and Obi-Wan know each other so well,” Anakin wondered aloud, completely missing what Aayla had just said.

They heard and saw Obi-Wan laugh and blushed bashfully at something Ganodi said, and both Ganodi and Obi-Wan turned to look at the three of them. Obi-Wan seemed to light up, and he gave a small wave toward them.

“Is he waving at us,” Petra asked.

Obi-Wan directed a smile toward them when he saw Aayla wave in return, but Anakin had already turned around and grabbed hold of Petra by the arm.

He motioned Petra to get into position to begin sparring, holding back a scowl as they got into position. He activated his lightsaber, ensuring his posture was perfect, and started through the katas of Form I. However, his swings were harder than usual, and he had to adjust his stance midswing several times. Anakin breathed in through gritted teeth but felt the Force flow through him. He channeled more than he usually did.

“And this is why I said to call him over; I knew you’d get like this,” Aayla said, sighing. She joined Anakin after he smoothed out his stance.

“You two are acting odd,” Petra said, moving into Form I despite being pulled to join Anakin earlier. The three fell into a similar rhythm, and Anakin could feel the Force flow through him more calmly now. When he struggled to focus, he did the equivalent of unintentionally grabbing and winding the Force around him and his friends. 

“Anakin, you need to chill out,” Petra said, gritting his teeth. “I can hardly breathe.”

“You’re breathing fine,” Anakin said. Despite saying that, Anakin tried to release his feelings into the Force and loosen his hold so it didn’t impact Petra so much. 

“Don’t tell me how I’m feeling. When I say it’s hard to breathe, I mean it,” Petra swung his blue lightsaber a bit wider than he expected and muttered a quick apology. Anakin quickly adjusted his following motion and muttered, “It’s okay.”

Yoda walked by and gently tapped their legs with his gimer stick to correct their stances. He then stayed and watched them finish Form I, breathing deeply until Petra and Anakin followed suit.

The two of them took a break between Form I and Form II. As they all progressed to the more acrobatic Forms, many started to struggle, and despite being outside, the courtyard smelled of sweaty bodies.

Petra and Anakin drank water and watched Aayla finish her final katas for Form I. She executed her set with proficiency and focus, receiving praise from a senior padawan who partnered with her. Anakin and Petra winced toward each other. They forgot they were a group of three mid-practice and had to coax Aayla to speak with them again by apologizing and making silly faces when she wouldn’t even look at them during their break. The senior padawan laughed and called them adorable. 

In the second half of their lessons, they were separated into groups led by a senior padawan, each focusing on different skills and guiding them through the more complex sequences. Anakin searched the room and found Obi-Wan helping another initiate, Gungi, within the smaller groups. He stood next to the Wookie initiate and slowed his step to match the larger Wookie as he powered through the difficult sequences. Although Obi-Wan was the smaller of the two, his movements carried strength and power. He danced between forms, and his soothing presence in the Force was mesmerizing.

“So you’re Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Master Windu’s new junior padawan.” Anakin moved his gaze toward the new voice. Where Obi-Wan was barely a few years older than Anakin, this senior padawan was nearing adulthood. She carried the long beads of a padawan, though, and she had two long braids looped toward her shoulders and the ends tied up into a twist on the back of her head.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“My name is Depa Billaba, and I’m Master Windu’s senior padawan,” Depa replied.

Anakin’s mouth dropped open. He crossed his arms, and his jaws tense.

“I didn’t know Mace already had a padawan.”

“Senior Padawan, I believe the council decided on that moniker to avoid confusion now that Jedi Masters are allowed more than one padawan.”

“Why haven’t I seen you around?”

“I was on a solo mission. One of my firsts. Imagine my surprise when I saw my room being filled with toys when I returned.”

“Those are droid parts, not toys. They’re projects I’m working on. And I didn’t know it was your room. Besides, I’m staying in the dorms, so you don’t need to worry about me taking your room.” Anakin was not pouting. He wasn’t.

Depa stayed silent, allowing Anakin to stew in his thoughts until he finally looked up at her. She waited till their eyes met before continuing.

“True, all of us have dorms available to us, and we may use them, but all initiates and padawans will have to move eventually, as you cannot stay in the dorm long term, especially if we will be going on missions and apprenticing. Mace especially likes early meditation. Training opportunities occur in our living quarters, and the proximity provides more time,” Depa said matter-of-factly.

“When will he have time to train me now that you’re back?” Anakin shot back.

“No need to be jealous.”

“I’m not—jealous,” Anakin said, lowering his voice. “I just thought...” Anakin didn’t finish his thoughts out loud. 

Depa sat down and motioned for Anakin to join her. She looked up at him and waited for him to decide.

“Fine,” Anakin said, sitting down.

“Do you think having another to share your apprenticeship with would take away from his attention with you?”

Anakin frowned. “His time will have to be split among the two of us, and then he will have to work with the council.“

“We will have the opportunity to practice what we learned from him and learn from each other while he is away.”

This brought Anakin up short. “But you’re so much farther along than me. What do I have to teach you?”

She smiled and raised her hand toward a pair of junior and senior padawans. “There are always things we can learn from each other regardless of age or experience. We have strengths and weaknesses, and being older doesn’t mean you know everything.” She pointed to another senior and junior padawan pair moving through their katas. The senior padawan forgot a step, and the Junior Padawan stopped to show them.

“I thought some council members worried about encouraging negative emotions between padawans.”

“It was an argument made by those who were against this policy change of having more than one padawan to a Jedi master. That’s why there’s only Jedi Master Tholme and Jedi Master Mace that will be taking on two officially.” She motioned to the senior padawans and initiates around the courtyard. “How we do can set a precedent for those who follow us.”

“Is that why you’re all here? You’re seeing if we make a good fit?”

Depa nodded.

“Aren’t you worried he will like me more or spend more time with me?”

“If he needs to spend more time with you, then it must mean you need it.”

Anakin was stunned, silent. 

“Does nothing about us sharing bother you?”

She pondered for a few moments, then winced. “Well, you are moving into what technically used to be my room, which initially bothered me. I do have feelings about relinquishing what used to be my personal space.”

“Attachment is forbidden.”

Depa frowned but didn’t fall for the bait.

“I think it is natural to be attached to things.”

“I thought it was harmful.”

“I don’t think it has to be. It depends on what I choose to do with my emotions and attachment. If I do something harmful to your person or myself, that would be wrong and definitely harmful.” Depa stopped and seemed lost in thought.

Anakin looked at Depa then. The Force was calm, and Anakin waited until she looked back at him. She turned her head and smiled reassuringly at him.

“What do you say, be my padawan brother?”

Anakin felt a pang in his chest. He was unsure what he was feeling. “I think you just made that up. That term reeks of attachment.”

“I will have to be careful then. So, what is your answer?”

Anakin nodded. “Okay, but no touching the droid parts.”

Depa breathed a sigh of relief and replied, “Alright, no touch the toys you play with.”

They continued to sit, and Anakin felt suddenly embarrassed. “Will you tell me about Mace,” Anakin asked.

“You will find Jedi Master—Mace really enjoys sweet bread from the Coruscant Market and will be upset if we eat it all.” She laughed, and it was loud and infectious. She continued to tell Anakin about various foods and quirks until Anakin joined her in laughter. 

“Sweetcakes!”Anakin yelled abruptly. Something Depa said jogged his memory. He remembered!

“I don’t think Mace likes sweetcakes, so we can eat those all we want,” Depa responded, but she looked curious at Anakin. “Sweet bread is different. If you like sweetcakes, we can get some from the market too, although we can have some from the refectory.”

Anakin looked around for Obi-Wan. He remembered their conversation after Obi-Wan had saved him, and they both were freezing. He felt a light tap on his foot and could sense annoyance from Yoda, who had been walking toward them.

“Chatting more than practicing, you are. Terrible example you are being,” Yoda directed at the senior padawan.

“I’m bonding with my new padawan brother,” she replied easily.

“More missions together you will have. Plenty of time for bonding. Now, back to work.”

They grinned at each other as Yoda left them, the gimer stick clacking loudly away. Anakin continued to search until he spied Obi-Wan across the courtyard, helping another initiate. Feeling determined, Anakin hatched a plan and was well on his way to pursue it when he felt the tip of a finger gently touch his shoulder.

“As much as I want to know more about whatever you are about to do. We really should get started with our katas,” Depa said apologetically. She seemed to be holding back a smile.

Anakin gave one last glance at Obi-Wan. He had his back turned toward him for now, but Anakin was not deterred. It would have to wait, however. Anakin sighed and then focused on Depa and their training for the rest of the afternoon. 

Senior Padawan Depa was relentless with their training. “You better get used to this because the training Mace puts us through is even more rigorous. Form IV, which Mace is known for, requires patience, focus, and a particular understanding of the Force,” Anakin winced tiredly. Luckily, she took pity on him, and they began cooling down, taking extra time stretching.

Once they were done stretching, Anakin said, “Please tell me we will get breaks when we train with Mace.”

“He is—not unreasonable, but we may need to voice our reasoning and be strategic.” Anakin saw her grimace, and he groaned. They sat and began to meditate while everyone else was winding down. 

“So, is there a reason why Junior Padawan Kenobi is glaring in our direction?”

“Hm?” Anakin opened one eye quickly and swiveled his head toward Obi-Wan. Anakin and Depa watched as the other boy’s eyes widened like a bantha caught in a speeder’s headlights.

“Oh. This will be fun,” Depa commented, giving Anakin a sly look. Anakin didn’t respond. When she didn’t relent in staring, he sniffed and bent his head to study his tunic with great interest. He was definitely going to have to find a way not to allow her to tease him about Obi-Wan, at least not in front of Mace, Anakin thought.

They eventually checked in with Yoda and received the go-ahead to be dismissed, but Anakin wanted to return to his friends and wait for them. Depa waved goodbye and told him to be ready the next day so they could train in the morning.

After waving goodbye, Anakin tried to catch Obi-Wan’s eyes, but the other padawan refused to look at him again. Anakin even tried walking toward him and watched Obi-Wan change directions mid-stride twice. 

When his friends were getting ready to leave, he found them and plopped down on the ground, partly annoyed, but honestly, his legs felt like the jams in the refectory.

“Why are we irritated,” Aayla asked after barely a glance. She laid down flat on her back.

“Yeah, you seemed to have been having a great time with that senior padawan,” Petra said, nudging Anakin’s sore arms with his foot.

“What? No, she’s Mace’s senior padawan. We will both study, train, and go on missions together. Like Aayla will be doing with Vos.” Anakin said adamantly.

“That’s great, Anakin! Maybe we can all go on missions together,” Aayla exclaimed, sitting up. Anakin noticed Petra frowning and gave him an eye roll, making the boy give a cheeky grin.

“And I’m irritated because I haven’t had a chance to talk with Obi-Wan,” Anakin admitted. 

“Is that what all this has been about?” Petra asked. He looked down at Anakin and Aayla, shaking his head in disbelief. Then, to Anakin’s horror, he watched Petra take off searching the courtyard.

“Aayla, after him!” Anakin shouted, but it was too late because he heard his friend’s voice echo in the courtyard. In fact, maybe all of Coruscant heard.

“Hey Kenobi! Come here. Anakin wants to talk to you!”

Anakin was going to kill Petra.

Chapter Text

Anakin was going to kill Petra, but he couldn’t show this on his face because Obi-Wan was already walking toward him. He saw Aayla make kissy faces from behind Obi-Wan’s back and turn to run off so quickly that her lekkus hit Petra, although Petra still had time to stick his tongue out at Anakin before leaving the courtyard. This left Anakin sitting on the ground, staring up at Obi-Wan, who was looking at him curiously.

“Hello, Anakin.”

“Hi.”

Anakin was going to kill Petra because it seemed he took Anakin’s ability to speak with him when he left.

“Your friend said you wanted to talk to me?”

Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan and saw that the other padawan looked nervous, his eyes abruptly looking over Anakin’s shoulder and his face flushed.

“You’re sweaty,” Anakin stated, catching Obi-Wan by surprise. 

Obi-Wan frowned in response but looked at Anakin.

“I was assisting all of you with your katas. One tends to get all sweaty,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand and sniffing it. Anakin doesn’t think the other padawan was aware he was smelling himself.

Anakin started chuckling.

“If you have nothing else to say, it seems I require a shower since I smell.”

“I didn’t say you smell,” Anakin said quickly, grinning widely, “And I do have something to say.”

“Oh. Alright. Let us hear it, then.”

Anakin feigned nonchalance and leaned back on his hands; he felt his arms protest, but he was committed now.

“You owe me, sweetcakes.”

Obi-Wan furrowed his eyebrows, and his mouth opened and closed several times before he shut them and just stared in disbelief. Anakin felt sweat drip down his back, and his hands started to feel clammy.

“Sweetcakes?”

“At Ilum, you said if I stayed awake, you’d give me those fancy sweetcakes from Alderaan.” Anakin watched Obi-Wan’s face transition through several emotions before finally landing between bewilderment and amusement. Obi-wan was also smiling, and he comfortably placed his hands openly on his hips, so Anakin counted it as a win.

“I suppose I do. Unfortunately, it will require some time before I can get Alderaanian sweetcakes to you.”

“I see,” Anakin said. He was not disappointed; really, he was not, he told himself. His brain registered Obi-Wan calling his name, but this was not going according to his plans at all. He needed to retreat and regroup. Anakin moved to get up from the ground when he heard Obi-Wan’s more insistent voice. 

“Anakin!”

Anakin looked up.

Obi-Wan spoke again, his voice quieter than before.

“However, I have some sweets I received from friends I wouldn’t mind sharing. They are not from Alderaan, but they are what they serve at the Senate.” Obi-Wan reached his hand down to help Anakin up.

“Then, I suppose those will have to do for now,” Anakin replied. He quickly wiped his sweaty palms on his robes before grabbing Obi-Wan’s hand. Obi-Wan’s grip was firm, and his palm was full of calluses.

“Want to meet at the refectory,” Anakin asked. “We can cool off and get something cold to drink, too, if you want.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “That is an excellent idea, but how about we meet in the Room of a Thousand Fountains this time?” Obi-Wan asked. 

This time. Anakin repeated this phrase in his mind as they separated, hope swelling. 

After spending more time than he wanted to admit to getting ready, Anakin rushed to the lush and humid Room of a Thousand Fountains on the temple’s first floor, leaning on one of the pillars framing the area. He was glad he took his time in the fresher because Obi-Wan arrived looking clean, and he changed his robes and tunics.

Anakin followed Obi-Wan, curious about where he would take them. Anakin always sat with his friends by the small gazebos near the main entrance. 

Obi-Wan took them through different catwalks and several levels of terraces until they neared the top of a small waterfall. They hopped on some stone steps and arrived at the top of the waterfall, where a slab of rock overlooked the water and greenery. Obi-Wan excitedly motioned him with both hands to step near the cliff’s edge. Anakin felt mists of water billowing around him, attaching themselves to his skin and moistening his clothes.

What Anakin saw made his breath stutter, for he had never considered water more than a luxury and plants as necessities for living. The Room of a Thousand Fountains had flourished here the whole time he’d been at the temple, and he’d been here plenty of times thinking he was appreciating what the lush and humid room had to offer. Yet, next to Obi-Wan, it was like the first time. In a way, it was. He’d never thought to look and feel because the Force was soaked in everything around them.

“Watch,” Obi-Wan whispered. Anakin’s eyes widened.

The dome ceiling was holographic, and Anakin was usually there when it projected sunlight. He never thought anything of it. It currently projected twilight, which turned to dusk before his eyes. The sudden change from dusk to a sky full of stars and moons caused unassuming and overlooked flowers to bloom and leaves to unfurl, lighting the area and them with a soft glow. A floral scent permeated the air, and the galaxy of stars reflected off the pools of water, flickering its light over them. Anakin had to remind himself he was inside the enormous greenhouse within the Jedi Temple.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Anakin said quietly. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“You are welcome. I am happy you enjoyed the view as much as I do,” Obi-Wan said softly.

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan and studied his profile. He paid proper attention to every detail of his face, from his dimples to his eyes.

“Yeah, the view is amazing,” Anakin said, voice cracking.

Obi-Wan looked over with concern. “Are you alright? Do you need a drink?

“Uh, yeah,” Anakin replied lamely. He tried to clear his throat, but it caused him to hiccup. He grabbed the drink he had brought in his hydroflask, which was currently being held up to him by Obi-Wan, and his first gulp splashed more over his face, causing him to cough. Anakin wanted to dive into the pool below them. He saw Obi-Wan trying to smother his laughter, failing miserably. Which, in turn, caused Anakin to laugh. They eventually settled and sat silently beside each other, munching on snacks and listening to the waterfall.

“These are good,” Anakin said, munching on a savory pastry filled with roasted meats and spices.

Obi-Wan was now drinking from one of Anakin’s hydroflasks, which he had filled with jogan juice from the refectory.

“Hm? Oh, yes, my friends from the senate have been giving me their favorite snacks and sharing the different foods they receive as gifts from dignitaries around the galaxy. They were concerned that I may not have been eating well even though they knew our refectory was more than sufficient. Although I have to say the sweets are incomparable.”

Anakin looked at his pastry and wondered how many credits he was ingesting.

“Have you been feeling better?”

“I have, but they are still worrying,” Obi-Wan said, wincing guiltily.

“I’m sure what happened to you at the library didn’t help,” Anakin said, remembering how faint Obi-Wan looked that day.

Obi-Wan sighed and looked up at the night sky. 

“It’s not just from your injury from Ilum, is it,” Anakin asked, but he knew immediately he had made Obi-Wan uncomfortable when he saw him curl his shoulders inward.

“You’ve had to train with the junior and senior padawans and take all those make-up lessons. We are Jedi, so we also go through the Force training. Your friends are probably unfamiliar with how exhausting that can make us,” Anakin said, thwarting the awkwardness that his earlier question prompted.

“It is kind of them to worry, and I am grateful to have such caring friends,” Obi-Wan admitted. He sat up straighter and relaxed his grip on his robes.

“How often do you see them  now that you are not always at the senate?” Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan cupped some loose pebbles in one of his hands and let it fall through his palm.

“Not as much as before, although it has increased now that they can visit the library with me. My master is concerned that I am growing too attached to my time at the senate,” Obi-Wan said, shooting a pebble over the waterfall with a slight flick of his finger.

“How odd. There have been so many lessons about how to befriend each other and work with our attachments rather than avoiding them altogether,” Anakin said. 

“My friends are at the Senate, and you know how they teach us different planets, have their customs and views toward things, and how we do things a certain way as Jedi, but they don’t always align. And, I wonder if that is why my master prefers I keep my distance from the people there.”

“Different views shouldn’t matter when Jedi serve the Force. We let it guide us,” Anakin said. 

Obi-Wan studied Anakin’s face until Anakin started squirming. 

“What if the Force does not give us any guidance?” Obi-Wan asked. 

Obi-Wan suddenly seemed very serious, and it gave Anakin pause before answering.

“If, and honestly, it’s a strong if, the Force doesn’t guide us. We do what we know to be right and what we believe in. We can also ask the council or other more experienced Jedi for guidance as well,” Anakin replied. 

The Force was never silent to him, Anakin thought. It was loud and insistent and even more so with the other Anakin’s memories.

“What if the council asks us to do something we do not believe in? What if they are wrong,” Obi-Wan countered.

“We do what we believe to be right,” Anakin stated. 

“What if what we thought to be right is wrong? What if…we make a mistake?” Obi-Wan asked firmly. He was close enough that Anakin could see the iris of Obi-Wan’s eyes. His very light blue eyes. A blue Anakin realized to be very familiar.

“What if I make a mistake?”

Anakin felt a pang in his heart. It felt like his whole body was burning, and he held his breath to hold back from taking hold of Obi-Wan, but he failed. He surged forward and embraced Obi-Wan, and he felt the surprise from the other padawan.

“Then we learn from our mistakes. We do better next time,” Anakin whispered. “Obi-Wan, I—” Anakin felt one of Obi-Wan’s arms gently touch his back, and then all he could think of was how warm Obi-Wan’s hand felt.

They pulled back away from each other, and Anakin saw Obi-Wan quickly rub his eyes. However, when he looked back at Anakin, he was smiling again.

“Sorry. I do not usually get like this,” Obi-Wan said.

“You—you can be however you like when you’re with me,” Anakin said gently. They sat silently, observing the scenery together. Anakin was surprised at how content he was to sit next to Obi-Wan, and he lost track of how long they sat together when Obi-Wan spoke again.

“I am due to go back on missions again off-world, but I think I will request they assign me back to the senate when I’m on Coruscant. Even if my master has expressed his concerns.”

Anakin turned to look at Obi-Wan in surprise.

“You don’t seem to get along with your Jedi Master,” Anakin said slowly.

“I suppose not. I asked the council to remove me from being his padawan,” Obi-Wan said hesitantly.

“I didn’t know that was possible,” Anakin said, “How did it go?”

Obi-Wan placed a hand over his face. “Now I essentially have two masters instead of one. Grandmaster Yoda offered immediately to have me stay and train with him, but then they traded off taking me on missions anyway.”

“That…backfired.”

“Yes, it did not turn out how I intended,” Obi-Wan said, sighing.

“Do you like being with Grandmaster Yoda?” Anakin asked.

“If you must know, Grandmaster Yoda has taken the role of my new Jedi Master with the utmost seriousness. 

“Is it true he eats tree roots and bugs?”

Obi-Wan shook his head and leaned toward Anakin conspiratorially.

“Someone has been listening to gossip,” Obi-Wan said with an air of judgment.

“Aayla does, and then she tells me, so I’ve been listening to her,” Anakin said, receiving a whiff of Obi-Wan’s earthy scent.

“That is the same thing,” Obi-Wan said, leaning back.

“No, it’s not. I’m listening to a friend,” Anakin said defensively. “Anyway, what’s he like then?”

“He’s rather considerate. Grandmaster Yoda brought all my belongings to his residence, asked what I like to have in my room, and had accommodations made in preparation for me to move in.”

Anakin found many of the Jedi Master’s kind and caring actions to be juxtaposed with the stern, strict, and unbending reputation many of them had. It felt like some of the Jedi Masters were overcompensating.

“I get that. Mace asked me what I liked to eat the other day, and then I saw him filling our fridge with the food I mentioned, although there were things I wasn’t familiar with there. I think it’s for Depa, my new padawan sister.” Anakin smiled. Anakin’s never had a sister before. He was pretty sure the moniker was unofficial as Depa referred to herself as Mace’s senior padawan, but she did call him her “padawan brother” first.

Anakin sighed happily and noticed Obi-Wan looking at him, eyes wide.

“I wondered how you knew Depa,” Obi-Wan said, placing a hand over his mouth. “I am such an idiot.” Obi-Wan seemed relieved, so relieved he started laughing, although for what Anakin didn’t know, he wanted to find out. 

“What’s so funny,” Anakin asked, moving his face closer to catch Obi-Wan’s attention.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing to me.”

Obi-Wan was openly staring at him and giggling.

“Not you. Promise,” Obi-Wan said, trying to catch his breath.

“Why do I get the distinct feeling it is totally about me.”

Obi-Wan burst into full-on guffaws and snorts.

“Has anyone ever said you can be infuriating at times?” Anakin asked, crossing his arms.

“I may have heard that once or twice,” Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin rolled his eyes.

“Alright, fine. More than a few times, but I make up for it by being charming,” Obi-Wan quipped, and then, registering what he said, he immediately covered his face with both hands.

“Charming, huh?” Anakin repeated.

“I do not mean to sound—” Obi-Wan started to say, muffled.

“You are,” Anakin interrupted.

“What?” Obi-Wan dropped his hands and blinked openly at Anakin. 

“You are charming,” Anakin stated. “So no need to whatever it is you were going to say.” Anakin waved his hand all around Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan swatted at his hands, Anakin gave a playful shove in return, and then they were both swatting and shoving till both were lying on the ground, wrestling until they were both on their backs, exhausted, trying to catch their breath.

“I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much,” Anakin said. They were both staring up at the holographic night sky.

“Same,” Obi-Wan said, sighing. His sigh quickly turned into a yawn.

Anakin quickly got up and offered his hand to Obi-Wan.

“I think that’s our cue to get back and get some sleep.”

It spoke to Obi-Wan’s tiredness when he didn’t even respond to Anakin grasping his arm and hefting him up.

“You going to be alright heading back?” Anakin asked once they were near the entrance.

“Yes, Grandmaster Yoda’s residence is rather close.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you—” Anakin started to say, but Obi-Wan had stepped in close to him and leaned toward him. 

Anakin felt his heart rate speed up.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan whispered in Anakin’s ear. Their cheeks barely brushed as Obi-Wan stepped back.

“For what,” Anakin asked belatedly, but Obi-Wan had already turned and was walking away. He felt like his feet were bolted to the floor, but luckily, Obi-Wan stopped and turned to look at him, giving him another chance to figure out what to say.

“See you tomorrow,” Obi-Wan said with a quick wave.

Words were still escaping him, so Anakin just waved back and waited till Obi-Wan was out of sight before Anakin grasped at his chest to keep his heart in his ribcage. 

That night, as he fell asleep with his thoughts swirling about Obi-Wan, he wondered how the blue of the ocean of Mon Calamari or the lakes of Alderaan could compare to the blue of Obi-Wan’s eyes.

Chapter Text

The clack of his shoes against the marble floor sounded different to his ears. It used to echo as he entered the senate chambers, The Galactic Senate Chambers. Sheev Palpatine pulled his red velvet robes out of the repulsorpod door with a flick of his fingers—with a flourish. He was careful not to use the Force as he was prone to do these days. Boredom, anger, frustration. Why he was brought to this universe after being laid to rest was beyond him because he didn’t feel like finding out. Call it what you will, but it was nice to have his hair and facial features return instead of the perpetual state of melting cheese. 

“We welcome the delegation from Naboo to our…”

He stopped listening. That idiot Chancellor, especially the Vice Chair, will spew nonsense for the full allotted time. As Emperor, he ran meetings, and he was efficient at it. Time was precious, after all. State your business, report, and leave—or die. When you ruled the Galaxy, you had to know how to multitask and delegate. 

At least the Naboo delegation didn’t have to share their pod. Reliving his senate days must be his punishment for failing—eternal torment with utter uselessness, he thought.

“Senator Palpatine. Would you like me to report on behalf of our delegation? You seem preoccupied with no doubt devising even better plans for the betterment of our planets.”

Senator Palpatine did not have to turn his head to acknowledge nor determine the source of that insipid voice.

“No need, Junior Delegate Amidala. I am allowing you to observe how to use your time wisely. Multitasking is an essential skill in being a leader, after all.” Ruling. Palpatine held back a sigh, he had grown lax and allowed Amidala to run for office right under his nose.

“Amazing, the sheer brainpower and energy it must require to maintain that level of thought process. No wonder you must use every moment as if it is your last.”

 Biting back a response not fitting for this open venue, he cracked a smile and allowed her to see a sliver of actual amusement on his face. One must award skill with acknowledgment occasionally lest they become so disheartened and die. It was fortuitous that he was not surrounded by complete uselessness.

“How is Obi-Wan? He must have recovered by now. Are you celebrating his birthday with him? Young people who grew up on Coruscant do care about these things. Perhaps you should take the time to visit him more.”

“Junior Padawan Kenobi is recovering well, Senator Palpatine.” 

He held back a laugh. The girl’s dislike of his familiarity with Kenobi was most endearing. Most likely, she did not know he had a birthday coming up, nor would she know what young people were up to beyond senate life.

“Oh? That is excellent news. Perhaps we shall take the time to visit. After all, I do need to follow up with the Jedi Council. That will give you plenty of time to see Junior Padawan Kenobi. After all, I know your time is precious as well.”

“How opportunistic and kind of you to give us the time to see each other. Your attentiveness to the Youth and junior delegation’s social well-being is most appreciated.”

Sheev Palpatine thought Amidala most likely already had plans to visit Kenobi and was refusing to admit it, allowing it to sound like his idea in the first place. He applauded her resistance to playing into his hand and risking sounding childish. After all, he did enjoy making other beings’ ideas seem like his own.

“We now pass the time to the Delegation of Naboo,” bellowed the Vice Chair. A spotlight appeared on them, and he grasped the handrail at the same time Amidala did while the other delegates on the pod struggled to maintain balance and looked like the fools they were by missing the handrails.

He shuddered to think how far he had fallen. To look forward to a daily repartee with the previous queen and senator, whatever version of her. Ha! He’s fallen before, he thought deprecatingly—but he stopped dwelling too much on the past, some past, another past, for now. 

After an exorbitant amount of time, Senator Palpatine stepped out of the repulsorpod. It spoke volumes when he and Junior Delegate Amidala glanced at each other in shared annoyance and immediate mutual disgust at their shared annoyance.

“The session went too long,” he stated.

“It could have been a message sent to all our datapads,” Amidala stated. 

And that was that—an acknowledgment of their shared opinion never to be spoken of again.

Their shuttle awaited them, and their short flight into the Jedi hangar bay was unnecessary. Still, he refused to walk up those stairs or cut through the courtyard where the younglings were scattered about, although usually it was cleared when there were visitors.

It was odd how the Jedi seemed more tolerant of outsiders yet still protective of their privacy. 

They were immediately greeted and escorted from the hangar bay. He noticed Amidala received a warmer welcome from the knight, who was the same one currently taking Kenobi’s place. That was the first order of business that needed to be addressed.

Chapter Text

It was not often that Obi-Wan would have a moment to sit and think. It was even rarer to have a moment to think about everyday things that other padawans thought about, such as…well, other padawans. He noticed that the older padawans loved talking. As they were usually about missions they were on, he did not mind it as much, but then it always devolved into talk about other padawans or holovids they’d watch. The topics changed like the wind. 

Recently, it was the newest addition of padawans. Their skills, abilities, how to help them, and who their Jedi Masters were. Anakin and Aayla were brought up a few times as they were some of the few whose masters took on more than one padawan. Senior Padawan Depa shared her assessment but kept it brief, setting a precedent of not sharing more than necessary.

 Obi-Wan knew, ultimately, that most of these senior padawans cared. The oldest padawans, almost knights, were mainly interested in supporting and keeping the younger padawans out of trouble and spent time mostly studying separately. Although they always answered whenever he had questions.

“What troubles are you worried that we younger padawans would get in?” he would ask, and then he would receive a pat on the shoulder, and their responses were brief or not forthcoming. He usually received their com codes and a stern, “You’ll know when the time comes. Contact us if you need anything.” Obi-Wan appreciated their thoughtfulness but preferred a straightforward answer. 

Currently, he sat studying at a table with a group of senior padawans outside one of the smaller refectories situated within some of the greenhouses. It was fondly referred to by padawans as the “food gardens” as a popular place to sit, study, and eat. That was if you enjoyed being surrounded by the various fruits and vegetables around the galaxy, although proteins were also available. 

“Junior Padawan Kenobi, we noticed you walking with Junior Padawan Skywalker after your Economics Around the Galaxy lesson,” commented one Senior Padawan, a Nautalon named Kit Fisto.

Obi-Wan kept silent and observed the senior padawan across from him. It was not a question after all. Anakin had walked into his class right at the end of his lesson. He happened only to take these lessons with these senior padawans. It was natural they were curious.

“That’s a long way to walk from the beginning padawan lesson area of the temple,” continued the senior padawan. Fisto stretched his neck, directing Obi-Wan’s eyes to the length of his neck, and then shook his head so his padawan beads fell pleasantly with his tentacles framing his face. His large black eyes were watching him curiously. Obi-Wan gently cleared his throat.

“Last time I checked, walking was allowed for all padawans throughout that floor of the Temple,” Obi-Wan said. “Perhaps he got lost, and I was directing him back to his lessons.”

“You were seen walking out together after Advanced Saber Arts as well. Did Padawan Skywalker get lost walking into another one of your lessons,” Fisto asked, grinning. Obi-Wan noticed another fang slipping through the padawan’s lips.

“Oh, Padawan Skywalker will be in those lessons with us,” Obi-Wan said. He leaned back against his chair and raised one of his hands to rub a thumb against his lips, resting his elbow on his other hand. “I would assume that with such a close observation you have made toward me and Padawan Skywalker, you would easily have surmised that.”

The table broke into chatter, and he and Padawan Fisto shared a mutual look of slight annoyance at the interruption. Not surmisable, then? Obi-Wan wondered.

“What? Already?” They heard a nearby padawan exclaim.

“He is rather incredible with the saber arts, isn’t he?”

“Well, with the amount of time he and Obi-Wan practice, it’s no wonder both are so good,” joked another.

“Yeah, maybe that’s something you should take a datapad out of theirs for yourself.”

There was a shuffling of feet and screechings of table chairs. Obi-Wan struggled to maintain his focus in the Force and keep from breaking into a laugh with Fisto.

“Padawans,” Depa said softly.

All of them quieted.

“Getting back on track, here. Junior Padawan Skywalker has been waiting outside many of our lessons lately,” said Senior Padawan Fisto. “One tends to wonder if there is a common thread.”

A question, but a weak one, Obi-Wan said to himself.

“We study together, as many of us do.” Obi-Wan glanced around the table, taking a moment to refocus through his motion.

“You sit rather close together while studying.”

Not a question, Obi-Wan reminded himself. So what if he and Anakin sit close to each other? Almost uncontrollably, he answered anyway.

“There could have been a cold draft at the library.” False. Why did he say that? Many sit close together, Obi said to himself. The group was snuggled up currently at the table. Many cultures preferred proximity to one another to display their closeness…oh.

“We just noticed the space between you both does not change regardless of location.”

Now that he thought about it, Anakin liked to sit relatively close to him regardless of the temperature of their various locations. Does it mean…his culture prefers to sit closer? Better not overthink it, he told himself. Maybe Anakin got cold quickly. He should bring an extra cloak next time they meet. Although Anakin usually felt warmer than him, scalding even, his breath always felt cool against his face when they sat and talked. 

“Leave him be. Can you not tell he is embarrassed?” Senior Padawan Depa said, interrupting whatever Padawan Fisto would say next. 

“I am not embarrassed,” Obi-Wan replied, looking up at them around the table and finding the attention of all the Senior Padawans staring at him, some grinning. 

Oh dear, Obi-Wan thought. He had forgotten for a moment that they were studying for their Negotiations and Diplomatic Tactics lessons. Giving himself a mental slap on his face with both hands, he attempted to salvage the situation. He relaxed and leaned on the table with his elbows flexing his biceps. He gently tilted his head to the side, allowing some of his longer fringes to fall into his eyes. He felt his eyelashes tangled with his hair as he looked up toward the senior padawan who originally started the questioning. 

“Why the interest, Fisto? Would you like to join us,” Obi-Wan asked softly, attempting to deflect. He gave what he thought to be a cheeky grin, showing his dimples. He winked at him for good measure.

From the looks of the senior padawans around him, he assumed he was less effective. Some looked horrified, and many grabbed their stomachs and doubled over with laughter. 

Senior Padawan Fisto sat up and bent his sizeable upper body toward him on the now seemingly small table. He widened his grin to show all his sharp teeth. 

“You are going to be trouble. Do not do what you just did unless you have a backup,” said Senior Padawan Fisto. He sat back and swung one of his arms around the back of another chair, looking roguish.

The padawan’s arm was immediately grasped by Padawan Depa, sitting next to him. 

“Back-up you need, Kit. Let’s call this negotiation a draw,” Padawan Depa said teasingly. She shoved at Padawan Fisto good-naturedly until Padawan Fisto crossed his arms and pouted; pink dusted his cheeks and the tips of his tentacles. 

“Ah, pardon the interruption,” said a new voice Obi-Wan immediately recognized. He looked up, surprised to see Padme standing by their table with an amused smile. Standing beside her was the Jedi knight currently assigned as the liaison between the Jedi and the Senate. The knight turned his head toward Padme and whispered into her ear. She laughed and patted him on the arm.

“Thank you for the nice tour.” 

“The pleasure was all mine, Delegate Amidala.”

Obi-Wan watched curiously at the knight as he winked and kissed the back of Padme’s hand. He walked toward the entrance, leaving Padme standing comfortably by their table, watching the knight leave. When she turned back toward them, she was no longer the airly politician they all saw on display. With a somewhat serious pinch between her brow that signaled to Obi-Wan that she was still in politician mode, she smiled openly at them and directed her gaze at all of them.

“I’m afraid I am on borrowed time as I have left the delegation I arrived officially with, so I apologize for skipping the pleasantries. I hoped to borrow some of your time, Padawan Kenobi.”

Everyone at the table swiveled their heads toward Obi-Wan. He saw Depa’s eyes widen in surprise. Obi-Wan tried to keep very still with the earlier playfulness gone from the group. All of their eyes were focused between him and Padme. 

Most everyone at the temple was aware of his friendship with Padme and Bail, as they were often seen openly at the temple together, and Obi-Wan had previously served as the liaison. However, most at the table were the senior padawans who only spent time in the temple as their masters took rotations to teach, so many had not spoken with her directly, nor now seemed to him to know of his close friendship with her.

“Of course.” He bit his lip nervously when he saw the questioning look of many of the senior padawans. Hopefully, the few other padawans at the table who knew would clear it up once they were done making eyes at Padme. Or, as was their nature, the senior padawans could ask him directly.

Padme grabbed his arm, and they walked to a nearby area where they could talk in some privacy but were still in view of the other table of now super curious padawans.

The area they chose to sit in had hanging pots overhead filled with multiple-colored fruits. The vines reached out and connected to other hanging pots throughout the greenhouse, giving them some shade and additional cover from curious onlookers he could see trying to read lips.

“It seemed you all were studying interrogation rather than your negotiations lessons, Obi-Wan,” Padme said, voice laced with amusement.

“And it seemed you have gone a long way from your tour of the temple, Delegate Amidala. I could have sworn you were a youth delegate with no official title recognized by our senate. What, Padme, has happened since I last saw you?”

“It’s Junior Delegate Amidala. Look, it’s been a long day. Mind if we get some food? I’m beyond famished.” Padme took off, and Obi-Wan only glanced at the other padawan table before following her.

“What is a Junior Delegate? And not that I am not happy to see you because I am, but I thought we were not meeting up until after I returned from being off-world,” Obi-Wan asked once he caught up to Padme. They both tried to balance the fruit on each of their plates as he and Padme continued to receive servings from the refectory droids.

“To answer your first question. It’s a delegate who hasn’t served as long as the other delegates serving their constituents. 

They sat down, and to Obi-Wan’s surprise, Padme dug into her food and, without preamble, continued her explanation. “In the Jedi library, it listed that there used to be more than one senator who represented their planets. Some had up to five! As it turned out, as someone elected to political office before, I qualified to serve in the senate in a more official capacity rather than a trainee of sorts like I was before in the program.”

“So, are you saying you are a senator of Naboo now?” Obi-Wan said, quickly taking a bite of a pear so as not to drip its juice everywhere. 

“In all but name and voting, I work with the Gungans. They don’t have an official senator, only someone who was sent to represent and give voice to any concerns. Part of my platform of being one of Naboo’s official delegations was working as a bridge with the people in the water and on the surface. The people voted, and I am now one of the delegates of Naboo who works mostly between the Gungans, Senator Palpatine’s office, and the Senate.”

“When did you do all this? Padme, this is incredible!” Obi-Wan exclaimed. 

“Well, Senator Palpatine didn’t give me much to do so I could have a lot of time to ‘study’ and ‘observe’ his work in the Senate. It gave me time to network with the other delegates and get to know the people we represent. There were a lot of holomessages that needed replies, so I spoke with many of our people on Naboo. When the Gungan delegates said they were looking for a replacement for one of them retiring, I immediately ran for office.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth dropped open. His friend was incredible. They were both the same age, and she was already a senator in all but name. It made him wonder what else he could do to improve. He reached for the Force and felt its strength. He thought of the other Obi-Wan, who he had cornered off, all his practice, all the Jedi Masters who had given their time to him. What else was he lacking? He felt a sudden tug toward the direction of the tower where the Jedi Council was currently meeting. He looked back at Padme, who was looking at him, a fork paused halfway to her mouth with a leafy vegetable. He looked toward the tower again before biting into his pear; the juice had dribbled into a puddle on his plate.

“Senator Palpatine must be excited to see how his efforts have paid off,” Obi-Wan commented offhandedly. He started on his plate of fruits and heard Padme drop her utensils forcibly. He looked at her with surprise. 

“Palpatine wasn’t aware I was gathering support for my platform or that I was running for office. He said he was disappointed I didn’t consult with him, but if I did, he would have found a way to stop it from happening,” Padme said, gathering steam as she continued her diatribe.

“Padme,” Obi-Wan interrupted, rubbing the sides of his forehead between his thumb and fingers.

“Don’t ‘Padme’ me. I told you before about what he did when I was elected Queen. I couldn’t risk him doing anything to jeopardize this for me.”

They didn’t have Bail to cushion them when discussing Senator Palpatine. Still, Obi-Wan wanted to focus on his excitement about his friend’s success more than he wanted to butt heads with Padme about the senator. He took a deep breath and let it out until all he felt was joy for his friend. He grasped one of her hands and looked her straight in the eyes.

“Congratulations, Padme. You truly are amazing.”

He watched her deflate immediately and smiled back at him. 

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. I’m sorry I got so defensive.” 

“I am sorry, too. I should not have brought him up while you told me about your success.” He squeezed her hand and felt her squeeze back. 

“So, what’s happened since I last saw you, and which council member are you training with now?” Padme asked, picking up her utensils.

The sound of crunchy vegetables and juicy fruit echoed between them as Obi-Wan tried to decide if he should tell Padme he requested to be assigned back to the mission at the senate. It was supposed to be positive because he could see Padme and Bail even more than before, but their conversation involving Senator Palpatine just now gave him pause. 

“Obi-Wan?” Padme prompted.

“Well. I have been spending some time with someone.” Obi-Wan felt his face flame with heat.

“Go on,” Padme said, visibly relaxing and picking up her plate of food, although her face lit up with a grin.

“I mean, we spend time studying and sparing together, and it has been enjoyable—now, Padme, do you want to know more or what?” Obi-Wan turned away and covered his mouth. Padme had started laughing, and he heard some chatter in the distance.

“Your face, I’m sorry—I am so listening, but you are so adorable right now. I must meet this person who has gotten you so flustered!” Padme stopped to take a sip of water. “Wait, it’s one of the padawans you spoke with when we were at the library for the first time. He helped you off the floor.”

When he couldn’t get off the floor, of course, she’d remember that, he cringed.

“Obi-Wan, look at me. I promise not to tease you anymore, for now.” 

He glared at her when she tacked on the “for now” but accepted her apologies. One couldn’t stay mad at Padme for long.

Appeased, Obi-Wan decided he better get all he had to say out at once. He felt his time together with Padme was quickly coming to a close.

“Yes, it was with them. While you were eavesdropping on us!”

“I told you it would have been odd if I suddenly popped around the corner like that with all the flirting and fainting.”

“I did not faint! I tripped.”

Padme patted him on the arm comfortingly. They quickly finished their plates, and he noticed her looking at the entrance door with concern. It reminded him they didn’t have all the time they were used to having when spending time together.

Trying to keep his smile on his face, he eventually gave up and sighed, opting to look at the hanging pots of fruits over their heads as he answered the rest of her question.

“I have been staying with Grandmaster Yoda and studying with Master Qui-Gon, but I will go off-world soon with Master Tholme for a diplomatic mission. We would have gone sooner, but Vos argued to have us stay until after I celebrated my birthday. Honestly, I think he just wanted the excuse to stay longer and see everyone before leaving so soon again.”

“Your birthday,” Padme said, her mouth dropped open.

“I know! I think everyone felt bad I never had the opportunity to do a proper Padawan birthday ritual all these years, especially Master Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan ruffled his hair with both hands, his nicely golden thread-woven braid swinging wildly with the weight of his beads, and he grabbed at it. 

“Obi-Wan—”

“No, Padme. I know what you will say about my relationship with Master Qui-Gon.” Padme let out her breath slowly, undoubtedly still holding on to whatever she would have said just now for another day.

“It does not matter to me anymore. It used to, but now I would rather have a normal celebration and not make it about my relationship with my Jedi Master—former Jedi Master. You know what, let us not even speak of him.” He looked up and saw an uncharacteristic blank look on Padme’s face.

“Obi-Wan, we must celebrate your birthday.”

“Padme, were you listening?”

“Bail will be back. And we can throw it at his residence!” Padme stood up and placed both her hands on the table. Upon seeing Obi-Wan’s face, she rallied, and he could see her change tactics mid-speech. A skill, he imagined, was just one of the many that made her incredible in politics but annoying as a friend, at least when trying to convince a friend to have a large and fancy birthday celebration.

“Bail can finally have a reason to invite Princess Breha, and you would give him a chance to show off his hosting skills—you know how she loves parties." 

“Do I?” Obi-Wan added “high-profile” to this celebration’s growing list of descriptive words.

“We can invite all your friends from the temple, and Padawan Vos could relax and spend time with you like everyone else has been while he’s been off doing missions. Really, can’t you see how jealous he’s been with the time you spend with everyone but him?”

“I’ve been studying! Vos hates studying.” 

“And I know you secretly love fancy parties; don’t deny it. You like dressing up and looking good,” Padme said quietly when they both realized it had suddenly become super quiet in the food garden.

He supposed having an excuse to wear something new would be nice.

“Most importantly, you would allow everyone to show you how much we care for you.” Padme sat back down, and he let her hold one of his hands between hers.

“Obi-Wan, please,” Padme said sincerely.

He tried to say no. Be humble like a good Jedi, but then he imagined the smiles people would have, and he could even invite…

“Yes, alright, but don’t be ridiculous. We all know the true mastermind of Bail’s hosting skills,” Obi-Wan replied, covering his ears quickly when he heard a mild squeal of joy muffled promptly behind her hands.

“I apologize for the interruption, Delegate Amidala.”

Padme and Obi-Wan looked up to see the Jedi Knight from earlier, who gave them a regretful look.

“I sense the meeting is quickly ending, and I know you don’t want them seeking you here.”

“Ah. Thank you. I appreciate the tour,” Padme said. 

The Knight smiled before turning and walking away from them.

She gave Obi-Wan a quick peck on his cheek, and he watched her leave as swiftly as she appeared.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan did not remember how long he stared at the greenhouse door once Padme left with the Jedi Knight, but when he turned around in his seat, he was greeted by Depa’s piercing gaze. She sat very still and was propping her head up with one hand. The fingers of her other hand were quietly drumming on their table.

“So, how long have you been in a relationship with that politician, Obi-Wan?”

“I do not know what you mean,” Obi-Wan stuttered. He could not help but roll his eyes as they both knew her question was asked to fluster him and cause a response. Padme was not wrong to say they seemed to be studying interrogation, as the line between the subjects seemed very slim at best.

It was a miracle no one had asked him about Anakin. 

Depa crossed her arms, and her fingers continued to drum against her arm. He watched her close her eyes and take a deep breath.

“You’re going to have to practice your acting skills, Obi-Wan. Have you been sent on any undercover missions yet?”

“Grandmaster Yoda said I need not worry about those missions yet.”

Depa laughed. “He’s wrong. Many of us older padawans are pushing for earlier training for younger padawans. We hope you all will receive more applicable lessons about what actually happens in our galaxy from now on.” She blew some air toward her fringes and gave a long sigh. “Are they even taking our suggestions seriously?”

Obi-Wan studied her face and leaned toward the table.

“Depa, is there something that is bothering you?”

She smiled and rested both her hands back on the table.

“You’re very kind, you know. You must be careful not to allow anyone to exploit your kindness. It is a strength but also a weakness of yours.”

“Depa, please state what you are trying to say. As you are known to be direct, please do not change that on my account.”

Depa stared at one of his hands, which was on the table, and Obi-Wan realized his other hand had somehow joined without Obi-Wan’s permission, completely showing his growing agitation

“Let’s just say I recently returned from a mission that allowed me to see how the galaxy functions outside our purview and how many things are affected by the people who serve the Senate.”

“We serve the people in the galaxy. Some of the people in the senate seek to help those people,” Obi-Wan defended. 

“You cannot help everyone.”

“I will endeavor to do my best, then,” Obi-Wan said, standing up and slamming his hands on the table.

Depa scoffed. 

“I know you requested to be assigned back to the Senate serving the Jedi, a mission more appropriate to a Jedi knight trained and experienced. You fell into that position by chance,” Depa emphasized.

She’s not wrong, Obi-Wan realized. He finally brought his hands back and sat back down.

“You cannot deny that I have built a positive relationship between the senate and Jedi well,” Obi-Wan stated. 

“No one denies that, Obi-Wan. Different delegations constantly request you, and it’s not to work with the youth. The council thinks you’re too young and inexperienced.”

“And what do you think, Depa? Why are you talking with me about this?” Obi-Wan asked, slumping down in his chair.

“I have a bad feeling about your association with people from the Senate.”

Obi-Wan felt his fist clench. “Depa, to answer your initial question. Padme and I are strictly friends and have been friends for quite some time. Enough for me to see how much she cares for all her people.”

“Yes, I am aware. It is clear to most of us that you and that junior delegate are but friends. I am also referring to those she serves with. Not all in the Senate have what’s best in mind, and I think most are more concerned with maintaining their seat of power,” Depa said. 

Obi-Wan frowned at her display but finally focused on her, looking her in the eyes.

“Some in the senate also care more than keeping their position. They want to make a difference for their people,” Obi-Wan argued. “I have had the privilege to meet more than just the delegation from Naboo and can vouch for their character.”

“Is this from your mission as the liaison for us? The Jedi? Or is this your opinion of your close friends at the Senate Dome? If you serve as a liaison, you are a Jedi first, and close friends or not, you cannot allow who you associate with to impact your judgment,” Depa said adamantly.

“It will not—It did not. I promise my friendships will not get in the way of my mission.”

“Promises are useless; only your actions matter here. Your association is already a concern.”

“It is neither your business with whom I associate nor is it your concern,” Obi-Wan heatedly replied, inflamed by her statement,

With her eyes widened, Depa quickly sat back in her chair and stared at Obi-Wan. To Obi-Wan’s surprise, she burst out laughing.

“It is very much my business, but that will have to be a conversation for another time, one that is quickly approaching, I’m afraid,” Depa wiped a tear that squeezed out from her eyes before continuing. 

Obi-Wan folded his arms and refused to look at her any longer. He heard Depa tsk amusedly at his behavior.

“Look, I’m sorry if I offended you about your friend. Just promise me you will ask for help if you need it. Especially if you end up serving in the Senate as the liaison again, your age and position will not keep you safe against all the people you will associate with there on your mission. Besides your friends of good character,” Depa said, relenting when she saw Obi-Wan rise again to defend his friend. 

He watched Depa reach out toward him with one of her hands, and, taking a chance, he allowed her to rest it gently on his forearm, giving him a friendly squeeze. Obi-Wan braced himself as best he could when the onslaught of a vision hit him—an older Depa with a young boy, a padawan with brown hair. The two were being pursued, “Run!” Obi-Wan heard Depa cry out, turning away to face the oncoming—.

“Obi-Wan, promise me,” Depa said, calling him back to the present.

“Yes,” he heard himself reply.

When he opened his eyes, Depa’s eyes were glassy, but she was smiling at him. He appreciated her open look of concern, but the vision was already fading, and he allowed it to slip away as he was wont to do with all his visions and memories.

“So why did your delegate friend ask for you?” Depa asked, relaxing her posture.

“She was visiting with her delegation and wanted to catch me before I left on my mission off-world,” Obi-Wan replied.

“The council must have loved the surprise visit.” Depa let out a sigh. “Jedi Master Windu is a stickler for appointments and does not like changes.

Obi-Wan was doubtful. From all the rumors, Master Windu seemed to be causing all the other council members strife with the number of changes he and Qui-Gon have been pushing.

“What else?” Depa asked.

“Hm?” Obi-Wan looked blankly at Depa.

“There was a lot of squealing, and I definitely will not mention that kiss.”

“Kiss? It wasn’t like that, and you did just mention it.” 

“I didn’t mean to you.”

Obi-Wan paused. He suddenly had a bad feeling about what she just said.

Depa motioned for him to continue. 

“Padme—She wants to celebrate my birthday at a mutual friend’s residence and throw a big party. It’s ridiculous for a simple birthday celebration.”

 “Sounds like plenty of people associated with the senate will be there.”

“Well, then perhaps you can come and personally see to any troubles that may or may not arise,” Obi-Wan said, crossing his arms.

Depa quirked her head at Obi-Wan.

“Is that an invitation?”

“A mission,” Obi-Wan rebutted.

Depa looked doubtfully at Obi-Wan.

“An invitation to ensure there’s no trouble at my birthday,” Obi-Wan said, looking away.

When he did not hear a response, he looked back toward her to see her grinning. Then, to his surprise, she bellowed, “Obi-Wan just invited us all to his birthday celebration thrown by his friend from the senate!”

Cheers erupted throughout the Food Garden. With a horrified expression, he watched Depa wink at him before walking off to rejoin the group he was studying with before. 

“What just happened?” Obi-Wan said out loud to himself. He was left reeling from the emotional whiplash of their conversations.

Giving himself one more moment to be irritated, he stood up and headed back toward the table when he froze and slapped his hand to his face.

“What?” Depa asked as he collapsed into an empty chair.

“Quinlin wanted to throw the celebration. I forgot.” Obi-Wan was not going to hear the end of it from his friend. 

“Quinlin can plan the after-party. After all the fancy stuff is done, we know that’s when the real celebration starts,” Depa commented. Although he could tell, she was also exhausted.

There was not a lot of cheering and chatter after that. Surprisingly, Obi-Wan and the group studied more despite the initial uproar with Padme’s arrival and his unintentional invitation to practically all the padawans for his birthday celebrations. Things had quickly gotten out of hand, in his opinion. 

Not long after they dug into their studies again, another interruption arrived at their table, this time in the form of Junior Padawan Aayla, yet another one of his friends. 

“Hi!” Aayla greeted. Obi-Wan winced at how loud she sounded in contrast. 

There was a mumble of exhausted hellos, but Aayla quickly turned to Obi-Wan.

“I’ve been sent to give you a summons from the Jedi High Council.” 

It spoke to his lack of focus that he had missed several Holocom alerts. He looked down at his datapads and then at his holocom, only to groan when he noticed the missed messages were from Grandmaster Yoda and Master Qui-Gon. He heard another com alert go off in their group just then, and Obi-Wan’s shoulders tensed further.

“I knew it,” whispered Depa when she reached for her com. She barely spoke while she held her holocom in her palm. A holoimage of a very disgruntled-looking Master Windu stared back at her, delivering his message concisely. Obi-Wan looked at her in confusion when she got up and followed them.

“I take it this is about the off-world mission,” Obi-Wan said to Aayla after they were halfway to the council room. He was almost tempted to ask if Quinlin convinced Master Tholme to wait to leave for the mission until after his birthday celebration to lessen the rising nervousness he felt from his friend.

“Um. I’m not sure. I was waiting outside while Jedi Master Tholme and Padawan Vos were reporting. However, we had to wait until Naboo’s delegation showed up unannounced. I’ve never seen Grandmaster Yoda so irritated before, never mind at a senator! He didn’t even offer tea!” Aayla replied.

“Senator?” Obi-Wan asked. He was under the impression that it was just Padme and a few other delegates. He did not know why he did not think Senator Palpatine would be there. He looked nervously back at Depa, who was following behind them.

“Yes, he greeted me by name! I didn’t think he’d know my name, and he said to say hi to you for him.”

Obi-Wan smiled brightly at Aayla. Unfortunately, his smile quickly waned when they entered the council chamber and were greeted by almost the entire Jedi High Council, who were physically in the room, including Master Qui-Gon. The room felt stifling, and he felt like a heavy weight was pushing down on him from head to toe.

“You are late,” Master Qui-Gon greeted, motioning Obi-Wan and Aayla into the room and Force closing the door.

“An incorrect observation, as I did not have a previous appointment to be here, and so I did not have time to arrive sufficiently early enough to be considered on time,” Obi-Wan replied. The room felt too hot, and pressure continued pressing against his skull when he reached the center of the circular room.

“It has been almost an hour since we sent Padawan Aayla to get you,” Qui-Gon stated. Obi-Wan scoffed, and he saw Aayla bite her lip in surprise.

“We headed directly here as soon as I received the summons from Junior Padawan Aayla. Do you think it is our character to delay and waste the council’s time purposely? Oh, my mistake; you only question my character.” Obi-Wan replied.

“Obi-Wan,” Aayla whispered next to him. He felt her small hand gently tug the back of his tunic, and he was suddenly aware of all the eyes on them both. Still, he could not bring himself to apologize for what he said or his behavior. Considering he had always cared about what Qui-Gon thought of him, he felt wild and unmoored acting this way.

“Jedi Masters, I found Padawan Kenobi in the Food Garden studying with the other senior padawans, and we immediately came straight here. I apologize if it took me too long to find him, as I am still learning how to sense others through the Force,” Aayla said steadily, making eye contact with all of the Jedi Masters in the room.

“You should have asked someone to direct you. It’s not the first time a youngling has lost their way,” Master Qui-Gon said, voice softening. He glanced at Obi-Wan briefly before Obi-Wan turned his head away.

“I did! I asked a Knight, but I must have gotten completely turned around because I went in the opposite direction.

Obi-Wan hooked a thumb through his belt and stared at the designs on the high council room floor. He had a suspicion, which knight Aayla asked, and how the directions were purposely confusing.

“I am very sorry,” Aayla said, grasping the side of her arm with her other hand, making her look even younger than she was.

They heard mumbling from several high council members, but Obi-Wan zeroed in on the sigh from Qui-Gon. He turned toward his master—previous master and glared heatedly at him. Aayla did nothing wrong but got lost, as many of them do in this vast temple, and he refused to allow Aayla to believe her abilities were lacking in any way due to a careless comment from a tactless Jedi High Council member or a misleading Knight who meant well to give him and Padme time. 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was drowned out when Yoda started to laugh and slam his gimmer stick down in unison. 

“Yes, learning we all are. Angry, the council is not. Grateful for you and Padawan Kenobi, we are. Found and delivered a message to Padawan Kenobi; you did. Successful in your mission, you were. Practice patience even council members should.”

Aayla beamed at Grandmaster Yoda’s praise. Obi-Wan crossed his arms, but he steadied his breathing and took a moment to gather himself. Only after he calmed himself did he realize he and Aayla were not alone with the council members. 

Standing slightly behind him at the edge of the council room were Jedi Master Tholme and Quinlin. Quinlin watched him with a blank look, but his gloved hands were clenching and unclenching, and Obi-Wan saw his friend quickly hide his hands behind his back when he saw Obi-Wan notice them. 

A static sound suddenly echoed through the room, and he watched all the council members turn toward the holo emitter flicker and project a discontented-looking Jedi Master.

“Can we move on with this meeting? Junior Padawan Kenobi has been found, but I still have a junior Padawan to find,” Master Windu greeted. 

Obi-Wan focused on the new voice and holo projection of Jedi Master Windu. It looked like he was holding the holocom in front of him while walking simultaneously.

“Anakin is probably up one of the trees. He mentioned never having climbed one before,” Depa whispered to Obi-Wan, sharing an amused smile when he turned around to look at her. 

He gently touched his com, which was tucked away in the sleeve of his tunic, and wondered when he could holocom Anakin—yet another reason to get this meeting over with. 

“Do you know how many trees there are in Alderaan? Regardless, now that my senior padawan has arrived with Padawan Kenobi, I leave the rest of the situation in her capable hands,” Jedi Master Windu said, switching off his holocom with aplomb. 

The room was left silent.

“Padawan Kenobi,” addressed a council member. “The Senate has requested you to be the Jedi liaison to the Senate. They were impressed with your work while you worked with the Naboo youth delegates in training. They want you to collaborate with all of their young trainees.”

There was a pause, and the room filled with a sudden scuffling of feet scraping against the floor and bodies readjusting in their seats. Obi-Wan frowned.

“Approved, we have not. Too young we think you are,” Yoda said. He held his hand out to stop Obi-Wan from speaking back. “Allow you to go to the senate, we still will, when there is a need.”

“What about the Jedi Knight currently serving with the Delegation of Naboo,” Obi-Wan asked.

“Liaison, he will still be. Different, his position is compared to yours, Padawan Kenobi,” Yoda replied. Obi-Wan noticed Qui-Gon look over to Grandmaster Yoda, frowning.

“Who will I report to when you do send me?” Obi-Wan asked, and he was met with many questioning looks.

“You will report to us, Padawan,” Qui-Gon replied, turning his head back toward him. “When we send you, you will represent the Jedi. It is odd, you would think of reporting to the Senate.”

“I worked before with Senator Palpatine since he led their youth training delegates. That’s why I asked who I will report to when I go to the Senate.”

“The Jedi Council will assign you to the different delegations, and you will be accompanied. You are to finish your task and return,” Qui-Gon explained. 

“I am to be a messenger,” Obi-Wan stated confusingly. “There are datapads and holocalls available.”

The room suddenly felt very stifling, and Obi-Wan counted the steps toward the door with his eyes. 

Yoda waved at Obi-Wan until his eyes looked down at his Grandmaster. “Represent the Jedi at the Senate as a Padawan; one day, you will. Not yet, Padawan, Not yet,” Grandmaster Yoda said, slowing down his speech until he stopped speaking, mercifully signifying the end of their meeting. 

The room exhaled a long breath, and Obi-Wan felt a gentle hand lightly touch his shoulder. He looked up to see Qui-Gon.

“You have a mission off-world. You will join Jedi Master Tholme and Padawan Vos. Pack quickly,” Qui-Gon said. 

“I’ll see to him that he has what he needs,” Jedi Master Tholme replied when he heard no reply from Obi-Wan. He registered Quinlin, saying he could pick up Obi-Wan’s pack as he knew where it was. Obi-Wan nodded at his friend. His feet felt like they were walking into a bog as he tried to move out of the room.

“Are you alright?” Qui-Gon asked telepathically.

“Why do you always ask this?” Obi-Wan replied. He looked around to see that most of the council members had left, and the few that hadn’t were rushing out.

“I am your Jedi Master. It is my job to care.”

And he saw it again. An image of Qui-Gon in his arms, bleeding. Padawan, Master Qui-Gon whispered, a hand reaching up toward him. 

Shuddering back to the present, Obi-Wan brushed Qui-Gon’s hand off him.

“Like I have said many times, you are my master no longer.”

Obi-Wan stepped out of the High Council Chamber door and ran down the steps as fast as he could without using the Force. He did not stop until he was outside in front of the temple entrance. He stared at the stream of speeders and transport crossing in the sky.

An alert buzzed in his sleeves, and he took out the com, momentarily forgetting how to answer.

“Oh, thank goodness,” said a flustered Quinlin. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you need to get to the hangar bay as quickly as possible. There’s been a last-minute change of plans. I’ll send you the details.”

A multitude of alerts later, he started scrolling through the details of the mission. He disconnected the call, forgetting to say goodbye to Quinlin, and doubled over laughing. After all the fuss about serving at the Senate, his mission was to escort a delegation to their homeworld to assist in an internal issue. 

They were headed to Naboo.

Chapter Text

When Anakin arrived at the temple and saw the waterfalls and water pools, he didn’t hesitate and jumped right on in. Anakin appreciated water.  It was hydrating and got rid of grime and dirt. Nothing beats having water in a hot desert. 

Now, however, having swam in the oceans of Mon Calamari for a couple of months, he’d had enough of it. Having been submerged on a water planet, he learned there was no escaping water. This was mainly because he had to use his physical strength rather than entirely depend on the Force. 

“You are sinking. Adjust your buoyancy—without using only the Force,” Windu stated.

“Yes, Mace, I’ll just get lighter in water. It totally works that way.”

Windu stared at Anakin’s sinking body through his scuba helmet. Without looking away, he floated toward the cylindrical buildings in the central city of Mon Cala, home to the Calamari people. 

Then, Mace raised an eyebrow directed toward Anakin, and it lit a fuse in him. Anakin propelled himself up using those flippers he’d had to wear since arriving, scowling.

“Are your strategies of inflaming me the only motivational teaching method you have?”

“You tired?” Mace replied as Anakin started to sink toward the ocean floor, which he should have done—much more exciting things to look at, like fauna. Obi-Wan would love this place.

Mon Calamari was incredible in terms of first off-world missions, but he was getting tired of breathing through a mask and kicking everywhere he went.

However, playing and hanging out with its people had been so much fun. Mace and he had helped negotiate a treaty between the people of Mon Calamari and Qurrens, who shared this planet. There was going to be a celebration, and he hoped the princess of the Mon Calamari people would already make a move with the oblivious prince of the Quarren.

It was sad, really, as he looked at the beautiful water world, with all the positive things he’d experienced on this mission, that he would still, upon occasion, be overwhelmed by memories from the other Anakin. Like now, he could feel the anxiousness, irritation, and fear that threatened to overwhelm him. 

Anakin immediately tried to cut himself off, but his vision blurred, and he was in a different Mon Cala. Two electric eels held an older Anakin. The galaxy was depending on him, the supposed fearless one. The woman he loved was hurt. He needed to—

“Anakin!”

“Hm?” Anakin redirected his attention back to Mace, mind still reeling. There was a woman the other Anakin loved. 

“Stay in the present, Padawan. I have no doubt you will master this skill with every other task you do,” Mace said seriously.

Oh, Anakin thought. He must have drifted away long enough to be noticed again.

“Why can’t I just use the Force?” Anakin asked, exhausted. Some young Calamari peaked through their window to wave their webbed hands at them. He smiled, waved back, and received some giggles picked up from the speaker in his helmet. The people there were super friendly and welcoming. The Mon Calamari king had been killed, and the prince was young and idealistic when the other Anakin was here. Anakin and everyone were all being played by him. 

“Anakin!”

Yikes, Anakin winced internally. His head was pounding, and he reached for the new memories already slipping away. Frustrated, he focused on Mace.

Mace’s face was blank, but Anakin knew it was a skill his Jedi Master excelled at. As his padawan, he was learning how to decipher their meanings daily. This one that was currently on Mace’s face meant: I’m worried. 

I’m fine, Mace. Sorry to worry you, Anakin reassured telepathically.

Mace didn’t look reassured to Anakin. Anakin counted the bubbles exiting Mace’s scuba suit to have something to do and to ignore Mace’s stare.

“Think of the swimming like your training with the saber arts; the skills you practice here can aid your other developing skills as well,” Mace said finally, turning his head away from Anakin.

“Yes, Mace,” Anakin said quietly, kicking his flippers to follow Mace.

“Where are we going now?” Anakin asked.

“To get some food. I’m hungry,” Mace replied, turning his head back toward Anakin.

Anakin smiled and put some extra effort into swimming after Mace, careful to resist using the force to aid in managing the flippers on his feet. Yeah, despite it all, water was not so bad, Anakin concluded.

Nighttime was another story altogether. He dreamed of torturing eels and war. His memories got significantly darker and troubled, a jumble of regret and pain. Still, Junior Padawan Anakin embraced those memories, for there must be things he could do in this galaxy with it all.

The following day was met with both excitement and disappointment. He was greeted by Mace, who he knew was looking forward to one more opportunity to study the martial arts of the people of Mon Cala. Instead, Mace informed him they were to head to their next mission, which demanded their immediate attention.

“But the party,” Anakin lamented.

“But the party,” Mace repeated.

They didn’t dawdle. The ship had already set a course to their new location, and Mace left him to his own devices after that. He immediately went back to his quarters to check for any holographic messages. Anakin wished he had a better holocom with better long-range capabilities and the option for real-time holomessages rather than only sending and receiving recorded messages. He clicked through his device and discovered he had five messages. Anakin saved the one from Obi-Wan for last.

The one from Petra was short—a summary of only the necessary bits covered in the training and classes. It ended with a reminder to finish and turn in assignments. 

Anakin smiled. He’d already received Petra’s detailed notes from the lessons he missed. Anakin laughed at his friend’s antics as the message continued. Petra and Aayla were doing well in their saber arts class, but Aayla was sent on a mission, leaving Petra alone in their saber class since Anakin had been moved to an advanced class. The message ended with an annoyed Petra pointing at him and shouting, “You need to spar with other people besides your boyfriend!”

“He’s not my boyfriend…” Anakin sputtered aloud at Petra, who’d ended his recording. Anakin stared at his handheld holo communicator and repeated the sentiment. 

After ruffling his hair till pieces were sticking up from the static, he flopped his face into the pillow only to take in a huge whiff of his hair. It smelled like…like he’d been swimming in the ocean for months. He decided he needed a quick wash and change of clothing, so he stormed into the fresher.

 After feeling much more relaxed, he reached for his holo communicator again, only to catch a scent of something floral. He smelled like flowers—ugh. It was no doubt a practical joke from his friends to spike his shampoo with perfume. It must be because he’d told them about Obi-Wan’s fondness for plants.

Maybe he shouldn’t have talked so much about Obi-Wan, but he felt like bursting every time he saw and spent time with the other padawan. Anakin told himself it was normal, but sometimes, he would feel Aayla and Petra drag him away with barely a hello shouted at the other padawan. 

Anakin sighed and flopped back down on the bed. Flipping over, Anakin finally opened the following message to a very excited and out-of-breath Aayla. Was she running? Anakin pondered. It was her adventures off-world, “I’m headed back to the ship, but I didn’t want Vos to hear. He wants to throw a birthday party for one of his friends, and guess who the friend is!!!” The message cut off, seeming to have lost signal mid-recording.

Anakin clicked on the next holomessage and was greeted by his mother, “I received your gift, Ani, and I must say the circuitry and design are amazing.” Shmi Skywalker shifted over so Anakin could see the protocol droid.

“Oh, thank the maker, I am no longer naked,” explained the droid.

 His mother laughed, and her eyes twinkled, “As you can see, C-3PO is still adjusting, but I will take care of it. Love you, Ani.” These messages from his mother were few and far between, but he cherished them.

The fourth message was odd. It was scrambled and cut out as soon as it started. Anakin wondered if it was possible to receive an unknown transmission. Anakin flipped his holocom over and wondered if he should look into it more. He convinced himself he was overly paranoid and continued to the last two messages.

The second to the last was from Depa, “Hey, kiddo, hope you’re enjoying padawan life. I know our Jedi Master is stern, but he does care. Practice the katas and eat the nutrient bars, even if they taste awful. Let me know if you need anything, alright? I mean it, it can be tough out visiting a new planet. You have my emergency com code to reach me and use the secure transmission frequency I made you memorize.  I’m never too busy to help any fellow padawans in need, especially my younger padawan brother. Take care.”

Finally, Obi-Wan’s message. He stared at his holocom, unsure if he could open his last holographic message without his heart pounding out of his chest as it was prone to do when Obi-Wan was involved. Anakin closed his eyes and clicked it quickly. He was greeted with silence. He opened one eye, and what he saw made him cover his mouth to stop his laughter despite being alone in his room.

Obi-Wan had dropped the holocom when he started recording, and when he tried to pick up the communicator, it slipped out and dropped to the floor again. When he was finally successful, everything was upside down. Anakin watched every moment. Nervousness forgotten, he leaned against the wall beside his bed.

“Ah, here we go,” said the holoimage of Obi-Wan, turning the com right side up. He looked like he had just showered and was ready to head out. “Hi, Anakin. Um, how are you…Your last adventure in the water was quite eventful, so I hope this first off-world mission to a water planet is as boring as possible; I mean, I hope you are enjoying the water, ah—you know what, never mind. You know what I mean.” Obi-Wan laughed nervously, and Anakin joined him even though he knew the holographic transmission was prerecorded. 

“I am actually good with words, you know. However, I seem to forget how to speak whenever I think of you or am around you. I mean—ah. I do not mean that!” Obi-Wan had tried to pause or cut the recording and finally just gave up and placed the holocom on some flat surface. “I wouldn’t even think of such things, but this is the result of my friend’s influence, who’s even worse than you when it comes to suggestive things. I do not know what I will do when I introduce you two to each other. You’ll only encourage each other. Hey, stop laughing— I know you are.”

Anakin slapped his leg with his hand, laughing. He placed the holocom on his legs so he could grab his stomach. Anakin couldn’t wait to meet this friend of Obi-Wan’s. It sounds like they would get along.

“You know, I wish I could hear you right now. Your laughter at my expense notwithstanding.”

Anakin stopped laughing and scooped the holocom with his hands closer to him.

 “The council still has not responded to my request about the mission at the senate, and Master Qui-Gon disapproves of me even visiting there now. Whenever I ask about it now, I am told to be prepared to leave off-world at any given moment’s notice. I am already packed and more than ready.” Obi-Wan pointed in a direction that Anakin assumed must be where the bag was.

“Of course you are,” Anakin replied to the flickering image of Obi-Wan.

“It has been a bit boring in advanced saber arts without you. Apparently, I hit a bit too hard at another senior padawan that they passed out during our spar. It was barely a tap! You would think I chopped off his arm. Well, they should not have said your cockiness transferred to me. I could not let that stand. I suppose I am used to the rigor of our spars.” Obi-Wan paused, and Anakin thought the message was over, but then Obi-Wan shyly continued.

“I have missed you. I look forward to when we are together again…so we can spar some more.” Then Obi-Wan reached out to him, and Anakin reached back before realizing Obi-Wan was reaching for the holocom to end the recording.

The room was quiet, but Anakin could feel the speed of his pulse and the flush on his face. 

He heard footsteps and registered Mace nearing his door.

“Are you decent in there?” Mace asked.

Anakin sputtered, “Of course I am. Why do you ask?”

He heard a sigh, and the door slid open. Mace had an eyebrow raised. 

“You need to work on your shielding.”

“Ugh!” Anakin threw his pillows at Mace and dove into his covers, only he missed and bumped his head against the metal frame of his bed. He looked at Mace to see all the pillows thrown in haste, frozen midair. Mace didn’t even move his hands from behind his back.

“That will be a thousand pushups for each pillow.”

“Kriff that!”

“Add another thousand for language.”

“I just showered,” Anakin whined.

“As interesting as it is to hear about your sanitary habits, I came to inform you we are almost to the destination of our next mission.”

A sudden dread replaced his embarrassment.

“Where are we going, Mace?”

“Alderaan.”

Chapter Text

The sun felt warm on Anakin’s skin, and the breeze sang as it blew through the grassy hill until it hit its end on the waters of the sapphire-blue lake. He held a leaf in his hand that was left tangled in his robes from climbing the trees earlier in the nearby forest, catching the view of the snow-capped mountains the planet was known for and finding their location. 

Alderaan was beautiful.

Alderaan felt like several planets shoved into one. There were trees, and some trunks seemed large enough to fit a whole speeder. The height could rival the Jedi temple, and no matter how long he stared up at the sky, he could only see splotches of blue sky. 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep sitting and enjoying for enjoyment’s sake. Anakin needed to reach Mace to get him and the idiot Alderaanian prince out of the mess caused by the kidnappers. 

Princess Breha had sent for their assistance. Most of her delegation, including her father, was on Coruscant preparing for their brief recess and were delayed. So they were greeted by the royal retainer, who Anakin soon realized was next in line to the throne. An important detail Anakin thought should have been included in their introduction.

Princess Breha explained that her spies had uncovered a plot to kidnap her. So what did she decide to do? She threw a party to welcome her father home, serving herself as bait. Mace and he would capture the culprits. Anakin would have been impressed if they had pulled it off. Instead, the kidnappers were successful. However, it didn’t go smoothly. They didn’t account for the abilities of the royal retainers or the Jedi.

One more try, he told himself. Anakin reached for Mace again through their training bond, but instead of reaching Mace, this time, he unwittingly delved into the feelings of the other Anakin. 

The other Anakin allowed a travesty to happen to this place, but whatever had happened had happened. This Anakin, the padawan, was on this beautiful planet, and Alderaan was still here. Maybe the other Anakin didn’t protect or get to sit and enjoy what the planet had to offer, but he planned to. 

“Anakin! Help me!”

Anakin sighed. First, he needed to save the klutzy prince of Alderaan, he concluded, standing up and dusting himself off.

“I am not a prince or klutsy!”

“Did I say that aloud?”Anakin asked, meeting the prince’s gaze as he hung upside-down, tangled in vines that grew rampant in this part of the forest, wrapping themselves around many tree trunks. 

“I am in the service of Her Highness Princess Breha. I am her cousin by blood,” The prince answered.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re her cousin by blood. You two are close, like siblings, which is why the kidnappers still kept you alive despite snatching the wrong one. Let’s not forget you’re also next in line,” Anakin said, whispering the last sentence as if they weren’t the only two around. 

It wasn’t the prince’s fault, Anakin reminded himself. The prince had pushed his cousin aside at the gala, sacrificing himself and getting injured. The kidnappers had grabbed the prince instead, but they made a crucial mistake and didn’t account for Anakin giving chase and sneaking onto their ship.

Using the Force, Anakin detangled the vines off the prince’s leg and gently slowed his fall to the ground. He watched in relief that the prince’s wounds didn’t reopen. 

“Thanks for saving me again and for breaking us out. It’s almost like you’ve done this before.”

More than once, Anakin admitted to himself. However, he’d never stolen a spacecraft and crashlanded on a planet. At least they crashed on the correct planet.

“Have you been able to contact anyone?” the prince asked as Anakin started clearing up their mini campsite. 

“Not yet,” Anakin replied. 

“I am sorry for breaking the subspace transceiver on our ship,” the prince stopped mid-sentence at Anakin’s glare. “And I apologize for what happened to your holocom. It was an accident.”

All of his com messages. Sure, he could find the recordings later, but it doesn’t change that they couldn’t reach anyone for help or fly back. Most importantly, he can’t holocom Obi-Wan, although he hasn’t had time due to recent events. And just when Obi-Wan seemed more comfortable contacting Anakin now, especially with how frequently Anakin messaged him.

“Honestly, we’ve had other problems, Prince, for me to be upset over such things. We may have lost our pursuers for now, but we have been able to rest for once. We must move on soon.”

“Can’t you just use your Jedi magic to reach the Jedi Master?”

“It’s not magic, it’s the Force. And I haven’t been able to reach anyone yet.”

Anakin heard the shuffling of hands and feet. He looked back at the prince, who was slowly sitting up and openly wincing in pain. With the prince still injured and ripping open his wounds again from their escape, walking long-term just wasn’t feasible. 

“You shouldn’t have been moving so much. That vine could have killed you.” Anakin ignored the quirk of an eyebrow directed toward him.

“Anakin, has anyone ever told you you can be so dramatic?”

As if on cue and despite the slight reprieve they found, suddenly, the Force insisted they move again, but the prince looked like he needed more rest. The feeling got stronger the longer they sat.

“Can you stand?” Anakin moved with urgency to help the prince up. The prince shook his head no and raised one of his arms. Anakin ended up just scooping the prince up.

Unlike Obi-Wan, the prince would openly ask for help.

“You’re doing it again,” the prince commented, leaning into Anakin.

“What?” Anakin asked, still holding on even though the prince had both feet on the ground. He reached out with his senses.

“You’re thinking of someone else,” the prince stated.

“Jealous?” Anakin responded absentmindedly.

“Yes.”

Anakin gazed at the prince in disbelief. The prince was younger than Princess Breha but was only a few months older than Anakin.

“You’re very forward, and coming from me, that means quite a lot,” Anakin said, pulling the prince’s arms around his shoulders to keep him steady as they started walking, keeping cover. 

“I have been told, yes. So, who’s this person you keep thinking about?”

Perhaps Anakin was tired, or maybe surviving a kidnapping, escaping with a stolen spacecraft (a first even for Anakin, as he tended to stick with speeders), and getting lost in the forest caused him to open up to the prince.

“It’s another padawan,” Anakin said, pulling the prince closer to avoid hitting a particularly mean-looking branch. “Are you always this clumsy?”

“It’s part of my charm,” the prince quipped back. Anakin eyed the prince next to him and made an uncomfortable realization.

“You remind me of him.”

The prince studied him for a moment. “Are you just friends?”

Anakin didn’t know how to respond.

“I wish I had a holodisk recorder because I want to freeze the look on your face right now and play it back to you later.”

Anakin tsked and looked away. He allowed a tiny root to trip the prince but immediately realized his mistake and caught him in his arms before the prince lost his footing.

“Very mature, ” the prince remarked dryly, “but also a great move. Use this on Mystery Guy.”. 

“What move?” Anakin carefully waited for the prince to secure his arms around Anakin’s shoulder before he hefted them forward. “He’s not the type to fall for these ‘moves’ you speak of. It’s taken me a lot of time and effort to get him to even speak to me, and I—I dunno. Something happens to me whenever I’m around him, and I just…”

“You become stupid and clumsy. Yes, I get that.”

“I don’t get clumsy,” Anakin said confidently. It was his turn to receive a doubtful glance.

“Alright, fine, occasionally. I worry that everything will revert to how it was before with how long we’ve been apart. It was only supposed to be a couple of months. What if I look like a kid to him when we see each other.”

Anakin felt the prince squirm in his arms.

“You don’t look like a kid, trust me.”

Anakin blinked in confusion and looked over at the prince. 

“Ugh, stop looking at me. I can’t handle your face right now.”

Amused, Anakin allowed the prince his embarrassment, but then an air of melancholy steeped through the Force.

“I’m not going to give up, you know,” the prince said after Anakin resumed their pace.

“Give up what?”

The prince smiled. “We can be friends for now.”

Anakin shook his head at him. “Why the, ‘for now.’” Really, what is this prince on about? Anakin thought, but he couldn’t indulge more of their conversation.

The danger Anakin felt earlier from the Force persisted and was getting stronger. He surveyed the surroundings more and picked up his speed, allowing the Force to direct him.

There was a split second where he could sense the danger, and Force shoved the pursuers, dropping down from the sky.

Whipping his robes off and over the prince, he slid them both to the ground to deflect an onslaught of initial blaster fire and quickly moved on the defensive. Three rushed toward him. Anakin activated his lightsaber, slashed at the one closest to him, deflected a blaster bolt back at another, and Force slammed the third into the ground. 

Apologizing internally for the rough handling, he dragged the prince into cover under a thick root protruding from the ground, using the Force to drag nearby branches over him, begging the Force to keep the prince from getting wounded by the flying debris. He heard a ship landing in the distance, but his immediate problem was the new wave of pursuers dropping down around him. 

Deflecting yet another round of bolts, Anakin Force pulled and slammed them against each other, successfully disarming them. It was a flurry of strikes to slice through the blasters, rendering them useless, and he breathed out in relief in the aftermath of a battle.

The Force is with me. Anakin repeated to himself. 

A prickling on his neck bought him a few seconds to block a hit to the back of his head by lifting his lightsaber behind him. Confused, he flipped away to find three heavily armored fighters wearing dark red robes walking soundlessly toward him. Their robes billowed when they moved, obscuring their hands. Their faces were covered with red-rimmed black helmets.

Watch their feet!

The first fighter struck, surprising Anakin with a meter-long force pike. Anakin barely parried the strike and could hardly see the flurry of slashes, stabs, and feints that followed the first hit. This fighter was good and was familiar with fighting with a saber. Anakin grunted when a wide forward slash with the force pike slipped through his guard and hit him on the side of his body. 

Biting back a groan, Anakin depended on his muscle memory and the Force for guidance to survive the rest of the volley. Anakin barely avoided a stab to his gut. He attempted to jump away, but gloved hands reached to grab Anakin’s neck. Anakin dodged, and the fighter missed and ripped Anakin’s robes and both layers of his tunic instead. Anakin parried another strike and threw off his robe in the process.

At least he wasn’t the only one breathing heavily, as he could hear his opponent heavy breathing through their helmet. Anakin felt sweat drip down his forehead as they continued to trade hits, and he was almost relieved when he finally felt his lightsaber pierce flesh. 

Without a chance to breathe, he moved his head to the side to avoid a slash with a vicro blade from the other red-robbed fighter. Anakin pulled his lightsaber out of the body of the first fighter, and he watched them fall to one knee, holding their side. 

Losing focus in those mere moments, Anakin felt the vicro blade from the second fighter slice into his arm. He kicked the second one in the chest and knocked their vicro blade to the ground, chopping off the fighter’s hand still holding the knife. Panting, Anakin turned his head and focused on the third fighter. 

The last fighter walked forward, appraising him; they moved with authority that was missing from the other two. The air around them felt thick, and Anakin had to swallow the bile that had crept up his throat.

Their weapon was similar to a saber, and like the other weapons, it could block his lightsaber, but it had another type of metal infused with it. There was a niggling in his brain that told him he knew what it was, but there was a weapon flying toward him, so he focused on the here and now.

 Anakin wasn’t expecting the vibro-edged head weapon to be hurled at him as the fighter jumped and spun mid-air, their robes blocking Anakin’s view of the lance until the last moment. Anakin force-jumped away and saw the fighter land hard, their weapon stabbed through the ground. The fighters stopped to retrieve their weapon.

A vibro-lance?

The fighter threw it toward Anakin, and he somersaulted to avoid the hurtling weapon flying toward him. Anakin felt his legs give out, and he landed on his knees. He sat panting, sweat and blood dripping and soaking his tunics. 

Do I use it, Anakin wondered. Mace had only started teaching him Vaapad. A technique not even Depa had mastered yet. It required Anakin to reach for both the light and the dark side of the Force. Anakin had found he had an affinity for the dark and hated to admit it, but he’d shied away from it whenever he channeled the force during spars with Mace. But this wasn’t a spar. 

Anakin reached for both sides of the Force and staggered up to his feet, blood dripping harder from his arm. He noticed there was no reaction from the fighter—only the swish of their cape against the wind. 

Letting out a cry, Anakin Force ran toward the fighter and repeatedly struck him with his lightsaber.

Anakin suddenly felt his lightsaber fly out of his bloody fingers. Surprised, he watched his lightsaber hit a nearby tree and roll to a stop. After disarming him, Anaki looked at the fighter to see their foot frozen in mid-air, and time seemed to slow.

I brought balance to the Force, Anakin saw an older version of himself say. 

“I’ll do it again,” Anakin repeated to himself.

Keeping an eye on his opponent, Anakin reached for the Force and, with a yell, pulled at the trees and large boulders around him until they were held suspended in midair, and they hovered briefly before he flung them toward the fighter with all his remaining strength. 

The air was filled with dust and obscured his vision. Panting, Anakin dropped on hands and knees.

Looking up toward the direction where he last saw the robed fighter, the air was clearing, and the ground was littered with bodies and debris. Losing his strength to hold himself up, he braced himself for the impact. However, he felt warm hands catch him before his head made contact. 

“Mace,” Anakin whispered, seeing his Jedi Master’s concerned face. Anakin wanted to tell him he was fine, but his vision had begun to blur, and unable to resist the pull of unconsciousness, he felt his eyes close.

Chapter Text

The next thing Anakin saw when he reopened his eyes was a new holocom lying on the table next to his head, and there was a chair squeaking where someone was sitting.

“Sleep.” He heard someone say.

When Anakin awoke again, Mace was sitting in a chair next to the bed beside him. He had marks on his face that looked suspiciously like the creases that matched the blankets on Anakin’s bed. 

“Mace, the prince!”

“He is safe. You’ve completed your mission.”

Anakin let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m also glad you’re alive,” Mace said.

“Stars, Mace. Can you be more awkward?” Anakin said, trying to sit up. Mace propped him up with the copious amount of pillows.

“I suppose I learned it from exposure to you,” Mace replied.

Anakin looked over at Mace in shock. The only sign of his Jedi Master joking was the tiniest upturn on the corner of his lips.

“You found me.”

“Of course,” Mace stated.

Anakin turned his head away from Mace and tried to hide his smile. He noticed a large window in his room and could see mountains in the distance.

“You’ve been in a healing trance for a week.”

Anakin almost fell over with relief. One week! 

“Thank goodness it’s not years,” he exclaimed.

“Anakin, it’s not like the holovids.”

Anakin let out a chuckle but stopped when Mace frowned.

“I am very glad you are back, but we need to know what happened. I need you to recount your version of what happened up till I found you.”

With some minor prompting in some areas, Anakin managed to deliver as much information as he could to help, but there was a question Anakin realized he needed to ask.

“Did we find out anything from the kidnappers?” Anakin asked. He noticed Mace hesitate.

“Unfortunately, those we apprehended could not share what they know.”

“Why?”

“Most were already deceased when we arrived, and the ones who weren’t either escaped or didn’t survive long enough.”

Anakin nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“You did what you had to do to protect and accomplish your mission,” Mace said comfortingly, waiting until Anakin looked at him before standing up. “I’m going to tell them you’re awake. Feel free to kick them out.”

“Mace?” Anakin whispered.

“You hungry? I’ll have them deliver something light and nutritious.”

Anakin must have made a face because Mace cracked the tiniest of smiles.

“I know, Anakin—you do not need to thank me.”

“Well, I want to anyway,” Anakin said petulantly, folding his arms and wincing. 

Mace stood and waited. Anakin started to sweat.

“Fine. Ugh.” Anakin placed one of his pillows over his face.

“I told you. Now we both have to suffer your embarrassment.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled quickly into the pillow. Anakin was met with silence, and he finally dropped the pillow down until he saw Mace standing there. Then, finally, a nod and Mace turned and walked out the door.

Anakin breathed out and felt exhausted. He couldn’t remember how long he sat or if he fell asleep again, but he reached toward his new holocom.

It was the newest model with integrated features that could connect to his datapad, record, play, and send more than just holomessages. And the range! If it didn’t hurt to move, he’d jump with joy. He couldn’t wait to contact his friends and Obi-Wan, whom he hadn’t had a chance to contact yet. 

Anakin had his finger placed on the holocom to record when the door to his room slammed open, and the prince and princess of Alderaan rushed into his room. 

“Anakin!” Both of them shouted. They sat on each side of him and contrasted their loud greeting by gently squeezing his hand and giving him space to move and breathe.

“Your Highnesses,” Anakin said, a slight smirk slipping through.

“Are you ever going to use our names when you are with us?”

“Nope.” Anakin heard the frustrated huff from the prince, but Princess Breha just smiled.

“Please, refer to us by name when we are alone, at least. Bespin and I are grateful for you and Jedi Master Windu’s help.”

Anakin observed the princess and watched the beating of her synthetic heart against her dress, which was visible as light. Although he didn’t spend as much time with her, he felt at ease enough. 

“We want to thank you,” stated Prince Bespin.

It’s odd, Anakin thought, how he was now on the receiving end. He counted the seconds and waited.

“So we are going to throw a huge celebration for all you and Jedi Mace had done for us, but—” Prince Bespin looked over at Princess Breha.

“—but there’s also going to be a party hosted by friends of mine relatively soon, and I’d like to invite you as one of my plus ones.”

Anakin was speechless. “One of your plus ones?” Also, two parties?

“Yes, I’m taking my dear cousin and would like to take you as well. It takes place on Coruscant, so you could return to the temple afterward if you liked, although I think your Jedi Master said there were things to resolve here. Also, we already asked Jedi Master Windu, and he’d said it was fine if you were fine with it.” Both of them waited eagerly for his answer.

“Okay,” Anakin replied, buckling under the excitement of the two royalties. It sounded like another mission if Mace had said yes so quickly.

There was a clap of excitement, and the two started talking simultaneously. Finally, Anakin shouted, “One at a time! Uh, please.”

“It will be the party of the century or so, I was told, and will be on Coruscant.”

“What’s the occasion?” Anakin asked. It sounded rather extravagant.

“It’s for a mutual friend of my friends. They’ve been wanting to introduce him to us for a while.”

“Must be an incredible person to host a birthday party for him where royalties are invited.”

“Oh, maybe you know of him,” Prince Bespin interjected. “Breha, didn’t you say their friend was also a Jedi?”

“Yes! A padawan actually, but they are keeping that quiet because they didn’t want it to seem like official business,” stated Princess Breha.

Anakin let out a small laugh. It sounded more like they didn’t want this padawan to get in trouble with the Jedi Council. He wondered what kind of padawan would allow such a party to be thrown for them. 

“I heard he was rather dashing as well. Of course, he’d pale compared to you, Anakin,” Prince Bespin said. Anakin rolled his eyes at the prince.

“What’s his name?” Anakin asked, already thinking through all the padawans he knew.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Princess Breha replied.

Anakin’s body suddenly froze, and his mouth dropped open.

“You know him! Tell us, is he as amazing as we’ve heard?”

“Incredible,” Anakin whispered. He met the eyes of the prince and the princess. 

“He’s incredible.”

Chapter Text

Nothing compares to a nice cup of tea, especially caffe.

Hoi-Broth tastes acceptable—allergic reaction notwithstanding.

Eopies are sweet. They loved to be petted on the nose.

As much as Obi-Wan tried to smother these anecdotes, the thoughts of another were slipping through again. Since stepping onto Senator Palpatine’s ship, he had been inundated with commentary from this past Obi-Wan. Boring thoughts. He unwittingly allowed himself to dwell on them.

Space was cold.

Obi-Wan nodded. He stared out into space from the observation deck and wondered why no one thought to have heating on a spaceship. Obi-Wan imagined it would be even more unbearable to those who have lived on a hot desert planet and had never been off-world. 

And yet, neither he nor his master had thought to give the new passenger on their ship a blanket. It was their first time in space! But she noticed and gave him one.

Obi-Wan sighed, reaching for his padawan beads and curling his braid around one of his fingers. These…are not my thoughts, he reminded himself, but considering there had not been any headaches, it should be fine to continue entertaining the inner monologue of this past Obi-Wan for a bit longer, he decided.

In the end, she did not notice everything. Then again, neither did I. 

Obi-Wan hummed to himself. Who was this ‘she’ that past Obi-Wan kept talking about? Obi-Wan wondered, gripping his beads harder. Why regret over blankets? Obi-Wan felt like his heart was being squeezed, and his eyes began to water.

Opinions about tea and eopies were acceptable, but Obi-Wan could feel the jumbling of his and past Obi-Wan’s emotions. He reaffirmed that he could not let past Obi-Wan’s memories in, even minor ones if their feelings got entangled. But what if it was important? The thought niggled through his mind.

“Padawan Kenobi!”

Obi-Wan turned away from his musings and the observation deck window. It was one of the aides from Senator Palpatine’s office who also took the role of one of the bodyguards. How sly and clever Obi-Wan had thought when he met these guards. At first glance, they were like regular aides, datapad pushers who took notes on flimsi. This aide wore red like many of Naboo’s delegation wore but had switched their usual outfits into fitted exercise outfits, similar to what most padawans liked to wear for spars. Perhaps that was what all fighters wore. The Jedi must not be that different.

“I’m surprised you’re up so early,” the aide said. “We are about to do some practice drills, and if you’re up for it, we can all spar again.” The aide had a cheeky grin, not unlike Anakin when Anakin would try to convince Obi-Wan to spar or exercise, which included a ridiculous amount of jumping, balancing on beams, and running. No, thank you, although Obi-Wan did it anyway because Anakin would smile at him, and it would brighten both their day. 

“Padawan Kenobi?” The aide’s cheeks were red, and they were clearing their throat. Obi-Wan realized he had just been staring with what must have been a goofy grin at the aide. They must think he was so odd.

“Yes, um, alright,” Obi-Wan said quickly. He felt like too much time had passed for him to say no.

They walked down the red-carpeted hallway of the ship toward the fitness room. Obi-Wan was absolutely flummoxed that a senatorial starship would have such extravagant amenities. 

If Anakin had been here, he would have wanted to explore each room and end each day at the ship refectory, which was not a refectory at all. It was on a completely different level of extravagance because you would order. Then someone would deliver the meal, and you would eat it in your quarters. 

The alternative would be to sit at the table with the delegates, which he, Vos, Aayla, and Jedi Master Thome had to do most nights in the beginning. Jedi Master Tholme had since excused Obi-Wan after the first few times, and Obi-Wan wondered if it was because having three padawans attend seemed excessive. 

It was fine, Obi-Wan told himself. Aayla needed the practice, in Obi-Wan’s opinion. He had many opportunities to sit through political dinners, which he could have guided Aayla on what he had learned since his trial and error at the senate. 

No, it really was okay, he told himself again. The aides never would have had the opportunity to ask for assistance with their work, and he would not have had the chance to learn from them about senatorial work or how the system worked. And he would not have had the opportunity to get acquainted with them. He would never have been able to practice their way of fighting. 

Now, they would invite him to eat or spar with them when they saw him wandering around and not just to help with the senator’s work. Like now, for example, he snuck a glance at the aide walking next to him.

Most importantly, he had plenty of time to record and send Holocom messages to Anakin. He smiled softly and wondered if Anakin was enjoying Alderaan. He had sent a message saying he was going to Naboo and asked about how Anakin was enjoying Alderaan but had not received a reply since Mon Cala, but space transmission does take a while for the type of holocom they had compared to the Jedi Masters. Obi-Wan felt an elbow nudge gently against his, bringing his attention back to the present.

“Senator Palpatine has been asking about you,” said the aide.

“How kind of him to ask. How is the senator?” Obi-Wan asked, smiling cordially at the aide.

“Senator Palpatine is doing well, but I did overhear him asking your Jedi Master why you have not joined them for dinner lately. That your perspective was sorely missed. Between us, why have you been declining his invitations?”

Obi-Wan hid his surprise with a smile. He held on to his training with the senior padawans and resisted blurting out what he really wanted to say, saying that he did no such thing and that Jedi Master Tholme had some explaining to do. So he said what he thought a good Jedi Padawan serving the Jedi would say.

“Junior Padawan Secura also has a unique perspective and would benefit from being at these dinners. As her senior, I would be remiss to deny her these opportunities.”

“That is a lie,” stated the aide.

“I beg your pardon,” Obi-Wan replied, keeping his pace from speeding up.

“We are not on the clock, so I will be frank.”

“You seem plenty frank to me,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

“I thought the same as you, but I can hear a half-truth from a parsec away.”

“I will have to apologize to the senator as I did not mean to offend. I do appreciate the invitations.” Oh dear, Obi-Wan said to himself. He allowed some of his emotions to leak through, and he could see the widening of the aide’s eyes at his admission.

“You did not realize that you were invited at all. You were excluded on purpose! Fine, I’ll play our game a while longer, but the shoptalk stops as soon as we enter the exercise room,” the aide stated adamantly. 

“Please pass on my sincere gratitude for all the senator’s guidance. Knowing I’ve been missed will encourage further hard work on my part to improve, as I have learned a great deal working with all of you.” Obi-Wan powered on. He felt his smile strain, and it eventually faltered. The aide was pretending to gag and vomit. 

“You are terrible. I do not know why I spend my time with you,” Obi-Wan stated and then stopped short. He had a dawning realization that the aide did not only remind him of Anakin but also of Padme.

“You clearly have a lot of time on your hands. Here, I thought you wanted to spend time with us, but really, you are just bored with nothing to do.”

“I was not bored!” 

“Lie.”

“I have been working with all of you and therefore had plenty to do.”

“Please, do not insult us. We reached out to you for assistance. Our invitation to spar—”

“I do not need your pity invitation. In fact, I do recall I have something else to do and will no longer be available to spar with you all.” Obi-Wan turned around and walked in the opposite direction. Is there really only two directions on this ship? Is it a blasted circle? Obi-Wan heatedly asked himself.

“Obi-Wan,” the aide said hastily, grabbing Obi-Wan’s midnight blue robe, which Obi-Wan had to request to be lengthened again. He pulled it out of the aide’s grip.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, nor imply you only assisted us because you were bored. We all know how hard you work, and you helped us when it was not your job to do so. We respect you for it. It is also clear to us that you enjoy being with us. Please, just stop for a moment. You have a surprisingly fast pace despite how short you are.”

“Being short is a matter of perspective,” Obi-Wan replied, turning and glaring at the aide. Sure, Anakin was a head taller than him, and Bail was tall like the trees in Alderaan, making all of Obi-Wan’s growth in height seem minimal in comparison.

“I’ll concede your point; you’re not short compared to Ewoks on the moon of Endor.”

Obi-Wan glared, and the aide waited. The aide reminded him of the snark and wit of Anakin and Padme combined, making it hard for him to stay angry at them.

He wondered how he would survive having Padme and Anakin finally meet and befriend each other. He should rethink introducing them like he planned to at his birthday party, he joked to himself. He will need Bail even more to cushion all the drama.

“I accept your apology.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. You were our only hope for getting all that work done.”

“Glad to be of use.” Obi-Wan made to continue storming off, but the aide stopped him again.

“I speak for more than just myself. You are honest, trusting, and sincere, without a hidden motive. You expect nothing in return. It is hard to find those traits in our line of work.”

“Is that a warning,” Obi-Wan responded dryly.

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan looked contemplatively back at the aide. 

“I will keep that in mind,” Obi-Wan replied solemnly. He received a nod, and they walked in companionable silence the rest of the way to the training room. 

There was a lot to be said about these aides who also moonlighted as guards. They were efficient and wickedly talented in breaking his defenses. Obi-Wan had his share of bruises to show for it from their spars. 

When they arrived, the other aides and guards greeted him, some nodding and others calling out to him. 

Obi-Wan would use a practice saber instead of his lightsaber during these spars. The guards’ weapons, especially the pikes and lances, were incredibly challenging and exciting to fight against, but they all opted to use practice weapons with him. Finished with stretching, he moved to warm up, and one of the official guards doing drills with a pike joined him. They started a bout of strikes and parries. 

It started slow, with Obi-Wan mostly dodging and parrying when the pike went too close; its long range made it challenging for Obi-Wan to maneuver closer. He purposely parried a strike to the right, leaving himself wide open. The guard did not take the bait and lunged forward toward Obi-Wan’s head with another strike. Obi-Wan waited till the last second to dodge, grasping the pike with one hand and throwing the guard off-balance. Spinning his practice saber up into the air above him, Obi-Wan dove into the guard with both arms and tacked them into the ground, slamming the pike loose from their hands. It clattered across the training room floor.

Pinning the guard down with his arms and legs, the guard continued to struggle. Obi-Wan reached out behind him and caught the falling practice saber still spinning by the hilt. 

“Yield,” Obi-Wan said.

The Force suddenly felt different, all-encompassing, as it wrapped itself around him, and he felt…powerful. He felt an overwhelming surge of energy, almost electric, flow through him, leaving him almost breathless. He brought his saber down over the guard’s body until it hovered just an inch above his opponent’s chest. It was a practice saber, but if he used the Force, it would still leave a mark. It would be so easy, he heard himself say.

“I yield!” 

Obi-Wan gasped in surprise, his head ringing. He looked around and saw the other aides and guards watching him, and the guard below him, who was gasping, was urgently tapping Obi-Wan’s arm.

Jumping off quickly, Obi-Wan grasped the guard’s arm and pulled them up. The guard looked slightly uneasy but thumped Obi-Wan’s arm assuredly, albeit a bit harder than usual, and with a nod, he walked toward the edge of the room.

Before Obi-Wan could say anything, they were all interrupted by the sound of hands clapping. He looked over and found Senator Palpatine standing by the entryway.

Everyone who was sitting or stretching stood, and those already standing straightened their posture. He observed as Senator Palpatine walked further into the room. While everyone had quieted and stood at attention, the senator was walking briskly over toward him.

“Padawan Kenobi! It is good to see you,” Senator Palpatine greeted. Obi-Wan noticed everyone had bowed their heads in deference toward the senator while Obi-Wan only stood still, not moving as the senator stood before him. No one seemed bothered or found it odd that Obi-Wan was the exception. 

Senator Palpatine cleared his throat, and the other guards continued their drills. None were looking in their direction, including the aide with whom he had chatted earlier. Obi-Wan walked toward the weapon’s rack and placed his practice saber back. 

“It is good to see you, too, Senator Palpatine,” Obi-Wan said, tilting his head to look at the Senator. He found it odd that they were on the senator’s ship, and they had not seen each other since the initial few days when everyone was trying to mitigate or stave off the conflict on the surface of Naboo with the Queen and Governor until they arrived. Most of the work with the aides involved preparing and researching the two parties involved and their issues with one another. 

“I am impressed with your saber skills. Is that why we haven’t seen you lately?” Senator Palpatine asked.

Obi-Wan felt like he was under a spotlight in an opera house. He was suddenly unsure what to say, despite how he had delivered his earlier lines to the aide rather smoothly.

“I suppose there are many reasons, but none are meant as an offense to you, Senator Palpatine, I assure you,” Obi-Wan replied. 

The senator smiled.

“No matter. I see that you have been working alongside my aides and have become rather familiar with the situation on my planet. Perhaps it would be prudent to have you working closely with us when we arrive.”

Obi-Wan thought this would be an issue. Master Tholme and Vos were to take the lead on this mission. Aayla, being the junior padawan and technically himself as well, was to assist and mainly stay in the background.

“Master Tholme would be of better assistance to you. As I am still an apprentice, I have to defer to his expertise on the matter.”

“Are you saying Master Tholme knows more about the issues on my planet than I do?” The smile on the senator’s face dropped, and Obi-Wan was suddenly struck with an intense feeling of disappointment radiating from Senator Palpatine.

“Of course not, Senator. I only meant Master Tholme would be better qualified for this mission as he was assigned to help your delegation. I am a padawan and, as you know, am still learning from my master. I would not want to cause the situation to be worse due to my ignorance or lack of knowledge,” Obi-Wan said, wiping the sweat on his hands off onto his robe.

The senator stared silently at Obi-Wan, wondering if he should have just said yes and avoided this conversation altogether.

“Well, my dear apprentice. This would be a wonderful opportunity for you. With the work you have done with the aides, I think you are more than prepared and qualified to be at my side for the negotiations that will take place here. I will speak with the Jedi Master. There are other things that I need from him. It will require him and his padawans to take care of on the surface.”

Obi-Wan felt a shudder travel through his body, making him feel like his hair stood on its ends. A sudden rush of anger coursed through him that surely did not belong to him. He felt the sharp throbbing that usually warned of an oncoming headache, a particularly bad one from the feel of it. 

Then, it was suddenly gone, and Obi-Wan almost fell over from the sudden relief of pressure. He looked around and tried to catch his bearings. Right, he was having a conversation—the senator was asking for his assistance. Of course, it made sense for him to help. Obi-Wan looked up at the senator, who was patiently waiting, with a kind smile.

“Yes, senator. I would gladly be of service. Will you speak with Master Tholme, or do you need me to inform him?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No, I will take care of it. It would not do well for you to get in trouble with the Jedi even though you have done nothing to warrant such a thing. Please continue your task here. I will have someone summon you when it is time.”

“Yes, senator,” Obi-Wan replied, still standing in the fitness room, staring at the back of the senator.

Chapter Text

The Naboo Royal Starship was both a work of art and a technological masterpiece. The hull was chromium-plated and polished to the point where it essentially doubled as a very expensive mirror. Obi-Wan could see his reflection on the hull and was unsure if it was an inside joke of the engineers when the shape of his reflection would morph his head and body into oversized blobs. It also spoke to how large and majestic Senator Palpatine’s ship was to be able to have space for a J-type 327 Nubian to dock. 

After the initial welcoming of the queen and her procession, Obi-Wan stayed and watched everyone else gawk at the Royal Starship, proclaiming its beauty while staring at their reflection from the starship’s hull. He wondered how Padme would have felt seeing the ship that would have been hers.

There was a sudden wave of melancholy that washed over him. Obi-Wan’s thoughts strayed to his friends yet again. Padme would have crafted a much better, if not suggestive, joke about the ship; Bail would have gasped in mock outrage at such an outrageous use of chromium and then secretly looked into the number of credits required to get his own, and Quinlin would have snickered at their reflections. Obi-Wan felt a wave of irritation. The ion storm had delayed their arrival and disrupted their communications. He hoped his recorded messages would eventually arrive. 

Even on-ship communications have been an issue. He and Quinlin were on the same mission and never saw each other. One of them was constantly being pulled away. He should probably start sending Quinlin Holocom recordings like he did everyone else now.

And, then, there was Anakin. Obi-Wan took a quick breath and held it. He kept at it until his body forced him to expel it, but his thoughts of Anakin stayed. 

Anakin, who he did not want to keep thinking about. He could function without receiving a com recording from Anakin. Obi-Wan stared at a particularly shiny panel of the ship’s hull. Anakin would have regaled him with details about the engineering marvel and then shamelessly asked to be in the pilot seat. And he was back to thinking about Anakin again.

Obi-Wan reached for his com and rechecked for messages. There was also the uneasiness and worry when he thought of Anakin lately, lack of holocom recordings aside. The senior padawans have been extra diligent in informing and preparing him and the other junior padawans on how missions can quickly become life-threatening.

Then again, those same senior padawans also gossiped and teased each other about relationships on different planets. There was always the chance that Anakin’s life was endangered or he met someone or several. Obi-Wan frowned, flipping his holocom over and over in his palm. Did Anakin get tired of sending so many messages and receiving only a few responses from him? Did the distance and time of their missions affect relationships like what the senior padawans would talk about? Is he in a relationship? Obi-Wan slapped at his face, ignoring the echo it made as it reverberated around him.

Worrying won’t make the Sarlacc digest its food any quicker, he repeated aloud. It was yet another creature Anakin had told him about, and he was back to Anakin, Obi-Wan sighed. No, he was looking at this wrong. Since when did he wait? Obi-Wan allowed himself another moment to dwell on his frustrations; then, he took a deep breath and centered himself in the Force—time for action. 

Obi-Wan ran onto the ramp of the ship and switched on his holocom. Clearing his throat as fast as he could, he moved his holocom around to show his surroundings. He tightened his grip lest he dropped it again.

“Hello, Anakin,” he panted. “Um. I want to show you something. Uh. Look! Here is the cockpit to a J-type 327 Nubian!” Obi-Wan said, voice cracking. Making sure he caught all the sparkling technology in his recording, he rushed out of the ship and took a lap around the starship, barely keeping from tripping over his feet and shamelessly using the Force to keep his balance. Obi-Wan found a spot that seemed extra polished and grinned next to it.

“Look, you can use it like a mirror—,” and in a rush, he bravely asked the question he had wanted to ask for some time. “And, um—in case you have not heard yet. There will be a little celebration, uh, for my birthday. I hope you can make it. If not, that is fine, too. You must be busy with the mission off-world, but I would like to see you there if possible. That is all. Bye!” Obi-Wan ended the transmission and covered his face. His heart was pounding, and he quickly staunched the thoughts that ran through his head. Putting the com back in his sleeve, he sighed a very long and embarrassed sigh. 

Opening his eyes, he immediately made eye contact with  Quinlin Vos.

“Gah,” Obi-Wan said uncontrollably in greeting. Clearing his throat, he looked away and pulled on the sleeves of his tunics, straightening his already neatly tied robes. When Obi-Wan finally looked at Quinlin again, his friend was openly laughing at him.

Obi-Wan could feel his face flaming.

“Alright. So, who is it?”

“No one,” Obi-Wan replied quickly. 

“How long have you been sending com messages to this ‘no one?’ And when did you even use your com for more than mission stuff?— Don’t even deny it. You know I can tell when you lie.”

That is true, Obi-Wan thought. More importantly, his friend could help him stop overthinking everything about him and Anakin.

“Um. Well, we mostly talked in person when I had to attend all those make-up lessons, so the holocommunications really started when we started going on missions off Coruscant,” Obi-Wan said, pulling on his sleeve again. 

Quinlin’s face seemed to struggle between frowning and smirking with amusement.

“So basically, this has been going on for at least a year, and now you’re in a distant relationship?” 

Okay, Obi-Wan observed, it seemed unfair all of his turmoils were so easily summarized into one sentence. 

“No, I mean, we are friends?” Obi-Wan answered lamely.

Quinlin quirked one of his eyebrows.

“Obi-Wan, I’ve been away on missions, sometimes for almost a year, and can count on two hands how many messages I’ve received from you.”

Obi-Wan looked at his friend and saw Quinlin settle on a grin. If they had not been creshemates, Quinlin could have hidden his true feelings, but Obi-Wan had made a hobby of studying his friends, especially when they got old enough to become Padawans. 

“Sorry, “Obi-Wan said, wincing. 

“What? Why are we apologizing?” Quinlin replied, dropping his hands to his side.

“I should have messaged more. Honestly, it was only recently that I started to use my holocom this much. As you just saw, it is still somewhat difficult for me to send them.”

Quinlin dropped his grin, and they stood in silence.

Just as the silence was unbearable, Quinlin sighed a long and dramatic sigh. 

“So you’re saying the holocom recordings I’ve received from you before are worth a hundred times the amount by current standards,” Quinlin said, giving Obi-Wan a cheeky grin. 

“Yes, well, don’t forget inflation,” Obi-Wan replied, relaxing into their usual banter. “We would have to account for which currency and planet you were on when you received my messages.”

Quinlin openly guffawed, and Obi-Wan soon joined him. Their laughter echoed around the hangar bay.

“Yuck, I forgot how much you liked our Economics Around the Galaxy classes,” Quinlin said, catching his breath.

“You take that back. The study of Economics is plenty noble. Besides, I just took good notes so you and Bant could see them if you needed them when you returned from missions. Otherwise, I would have fallen asleep with how Master Ki-Adi-Mundi would drone on and on. No fault from the subject matter.”

They both laughed, and the air felt more relaxed.

“Are we good?” Obi-Wan asked hesitantly.

“Why wouldn’t we be,” Quinlin replied, looking at the starship. He snickered when he saw his reflection. 

Obi-Wan smiled at his friend. 

“But, you are going to introduce me to this ‘no one’ at the party, and I’m sending a holocom recording to Padme so she knows as soon as this blasted storm settles around Naboo. I dunno, maybe she’ll create some mood lighting or something for you two,” Quinlin said assuredly. 

Shocked, Obi-Wan looked at Quinlin and crossed his arms stiffly.

“Why do you have Padme’s com codes? And why would we need mood lighting?”

“She gave them to me, and we are coordinating the details for the party. As for the mood lighting, you’ll figure it out eventually,” Quinlin explained blithely. 

Obi-Wan pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“Oh, don’t worry. We have everything under control. There’s a theme.”

“Quinlin! I am just a Padawan. I don’t need such a fancy, outlandish party,” Obi-Wan exclaimed. Obi-Wan stopped short at the look Quinlin gave him. “I can’t believe the two of you have joined forces! If I did not know better, I would think you’re both overcompensating.” 

“This is precisely why we are doing this for you. You love parties even if you won’t ever admit it. I don’t know what’s been going on with you lately. And you’ve been so distant on this mission—no, let me finish.”

Obi-Wan closed his mouth and glared at his friend instead.

“Look, I’m not going to ask you to tell me. I know you’ll talk to me when you’re ready with all this mess with Jedi Master Jinn and moving to Grandmaster Yoda’s residence. Knowing you, you probably don’t even mind eating bug stew and drinking tea.

“He doesn’t like bugs,” Obi-Wan mumbled. Quinlin rolled his eyes and continued.

“My point is you’re more than a Padawan to us. You are an amazing person and a very important friend to us. Let us show you how much you matter.”

Obi-Wan stopped short and looked closely at his friend. Quinlin’s striped cheeks were tinged red with embarrassment, and he was shoving the locks off his face that fell out of his hair tie. Quinlin stared back, loth-cat-like eyes shining with sincerity. 

“Padme wrote that speech, didn’t she,” Obi-Wan said, ending their staring contest.

“What? No, that’s how I really feel. Now, she may have helped me put them into words.”

“Alright,” Obi-Wan laughed.

“Alright?” Quinlin repeated excitedly.

“Just don’t go too overboard. I admit, I do enjoy parties, but even so,  Padme has already been a force of nature with all the planning.”

“And?”

“And…I’ll introduce you to who I was recording that holocom message for, but you already know him, and it’s not like we are, um, together? I’m not sure if he is even interested in me that way,” Obi-Wan petered out. 

Quirking an eyebrow, Quinlin crossed his arms and pursed his lips at him in response. “Obi-Wan, please don’t pretend you haven’t taken Languages Across the Galaxy.”

“What? What does that have to do with anything? And, yes, I took it!”

“I sure hope so because it is a unit integrated into every lesson we take! Especially now, with the managing attachment lessons on top of everything. I’ll make it easy for you. Has this person ever said, done, and acted in any way that shows they’re interested in you!?” 

Fortunately, Obi-Wan was saved from thinking about that question when Quinlin received an alert on his holocom from Aayla.

“Where are you guys?” Aayla whispered. There was chatter in the background. “The meeting has already started, and my part’s done. Hurry. Up.” They heard Jedi Master Thome call for Aayla in the background.

After Quinlin switched off his com, Obi-Wan placed a hand on his hip and looked up at the ceiling. Vos flipped his locks behind his shoulder and smiled mischievously.

“What? Do you think I wouldn’t take advantage of finally being able to talk to you? We can make it on time if we run. You and I are Jedi, after all,” Quinlin said smugly.

“We?” Obi-wan asked.

Quinlin looked at Obi-Wan with alarm. 

“Yes, we. You cannot skip this one. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were trying to skip out on yet another meeting.”

Obi-Wan frowned.

“But, Master Tholme had not extended the invitations to me. I only know because of my work with the aides—and Senator Palpatine personally inviting me. Which, blast, I lost track of time!”

Shifting to a tone he only used when actively working, Quinlin gently held Obi-Wan’s arm with his hand. Obi-Wan stared at Quinlin’s face with surprise, and his ears started to ring.

“Obi-Wan, Jedi Master Tholme told Aayla and me that you needed rest, and that is why you were not at so many of our meetings. Then, when Aayla and I found out you were working with the aides, we figured you were given a different part of the mission than us.”

They both stared at each other with confusion.

“That is not true,” Obi-Wan argued, gently shaking Quinlin’s hands off his arm. Master Tholme had excused him. If not for Senator Palpatine, who had kindly informed him of his standing invitation, he would have continued to think he was not needed.

Quinlin dropped his mouth to counter back, but they were interrupted again. This time, it was Obi-Wan’s com. An image of Senator Palpatine showed up on his holocom.

“Padawan Kenobi, you are not at my conference room yet. I am sure it was an accidental oversight to clarify that I need you here. The aides reminded us that you have put so much work into today’s meeting with the Queen and her advisors,” Senator Palpatine stated.

Obi-Wan made eye contact with Quinlin, his eyes widening. It took Obi-Wan a moment to form his words, and he could feel a slight throbbing of a headache, but it immediately dissolved. He hid his sigh of relief.

“Yes, Senator. I will be there soon. Thank you for the clarification,” Obi-Wan said.

Obi-Wan looked up from his holocom

Quinlin looked like he wanted to say something, but he shook his head at his friend.

“Obi-Wan—”

“It’s okay. It worked out in the end.” Obi-Wan started walking toward the conference room.

“No, that’s not it. This doesn’t make sense,” Quinlin said, running to catch up with Obi-Wan.

“We should use the Force,” Obi-Wan said. “We are already late as it is.”

“Obi-Wan!” Quinlin shouted as Obi-Wan accelerated, embracing the Force. Quinlin caught up with him, and Obi-Wan sensed their shared confusion through the Force. They reached the door, and Quinlin moved to place a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Later,” Obi-Wan said louder than he intended. He heard Quinlin drop his hand, but he did not look back.

Chapter Text

“I can’t wear this to the party,” Anakin stated.

“Why not?” asked Prince Bespin.

“It…” Anakin had no words. Or, too many words the longer he stared at his reflection in the mirror. 

“It’s slippery,” Anakin blurted with disbelief. “And…it smells?”

“Ah, that’s the perfume-scented oil you are smelling. The undertunic is infused with the essence of the candlewick flower. It grows here in the palace and represents love and magic. The oil is why it glided on easily.”

“Why does it feel bumpy on the outside?” Anakin moved and saw his tunic glimmer in the light.

“Oh, those are gems mined from the mountains of Alderaan,” the prince replied nonchalantly.

Anakin’s eyes widened, and he traced the embroidered lattice design covering his dark green inner and outer tunics with his fingers. The rough embroidery he felt with his hands on the outer layer of his tunic was, in actuality, strings of tiny white gems embedded stitch by stitch onto the dark green fabric that made up the outer tunic of his outfit. 

“And before you ask, yes, the robe is made of specially woven wool from the Killik region of Alderaan, and the tabard is made from the finest leather from our northern regions.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” Anakin mumbled.

“Anakin, darling. We had this specially made and tailored to you. You loved the other outfits we made to replace your ruined ones, so why are you resisting now?” Princess Breha asked, her smooth voice masterfully pulled at his heartstrings. He almost fell for it again.

“The robes and tunics you gifted me are more than enough. You also gave me clothes I can wear for any event that a padawan would need,” Anakin replied, “…and I love them.” He quickly added when he saw the beginnings of a frown on her face. 

“Then this is the outfit for special events. Even Jedi Master Windu accepted them without worry. You can pull off this ensemble with your Jedi accessories.” Princess Breha commented, bringing over his Jedi robe.

“My lightsaber is not an accessory! It’s my life.” Anakin stopped short.

“Yes, and you’ll bring life to the party with these additional final touches that will tie everything together.” Princess Breha held

“Anakin, are you okay?” asked Prince Bespin.

“I’m fine,” Anakin said reassuringly when he sensed the worry from the prince. “These are very nice.” He wasn’t fine yet. He needed to meditate and process his memories from past Anakin. It had become easier to be on Alderaan as he made new memories here. As lovely as the planet was, Alderaan could easily weigh down his mood if he allowed himself to dwell on past Anakin’s memories.

Clearing his throat, Anakin smiled and picked up his tabard and belt, admiring the color and rubbing the soft texture between his fingers. 

Anakin could admit that he loved the materials in his new wardrobe. They were durable, easy to clean, and comfortable to move in, but the ensemble he was wearing currently screamed luxury and was probably worth enough credits to buy a speeder. 

“I admit the inner tunic may be dressier than you are used to, but this is what you can wear in the evening when you have royalty hanging off your arms,” the prince teased.

“I’m supposed to be protecting you two.” Not technically a lie, as all Jedi protect, Anakin thought. However, Mace said Anakin could treat this as his practice for undercover work if he’s concerned about attending a party with royalty. 

When Anakin tried to mention it was a Padawan birthday party, Mace interrupted him mid-sentence by walking away and talking loudly about needing to meditate, leaving Anakin befuddled. When he told Depa how odd Mace acted on the holocom, she laughed and told him not to worry.

“More escorting than protecting,” the prince retorted. 

“That’s the same thing,” Anakin grumbled.

“No, it’s not. We are friends. You are our guest,” Prince Bespin stated, emphasizing each word.

“I heard Padawan Kenobi will be wearing a very elegant outfit for the party,” Princess Breha said regally, bringing Anakin and the prince’s argument to a screeching halt.

 “My friend Bail, who’s hosting, said it was a gift from him and another mutual friend with excellent fashion sense. I heard he also received a special gift from a queen on his recent mission.”

There was a grinding sound that reverberated through Anakin’s skull. It took Anakin longer than he would like to admit that he made it.

“What’s the matter now?” asked Princess Breha.

“It’s Padawan Kenobi,” Prince Bespin said softly, sighing.

The bantha in the room, Anakin thought deprecatingly to himself. He tried to shrug off the hurt from the lack of news and communication directly from the other padawan. In the not-too-distant past, Obi-Wan would have told Anakin about what was happening in his life through their holocom recordings to each other. For whatever reason, the messages stopped. Anakin probably sent hundreds since he recovered using his new holocom device.

“Anakin, are you listening?” He overheard Prince Bespin say, but Anakin had moved on to his next concern. Maybe something happened to Obi-Wan that caused him to pull away. Obi-Wan was so conscientious about everything. Sometimes, it was to Obi-Wan’s detriment, but then he heard about Obi-Wan’s birthday party, which Anakin hadn’t been invited to nor heard about, and receiving gifts from his friends from the Senate. Friends that could throw a party inviting royalty.

Anakin’s foot hit something, and he realized he had started pacing. His foot had collided with a wall, making a scuff mark on the wall of the spacious guest room. 

Then there were the questions Anakin wondered that were just basic concerns. What if Obi-Wan was just busy with his mission this whole time? Obi-Wan tended to get lost studying and fulfilling his duties as if his life depended on it. And then, every time Obi-Wan turned on his holocom, he would get flooded with the hundreds of recordings from Anakin.

“Oh no,” Anakin said aloud, voice soaked with worry. Was Anakin being too clingy? He rubbed his face with his hands and covered his mouth in shock. Obi-Wan was probably annoyed and overwhelmed, or worse, he needed space. Space without Anakin. He turned his head toward the prince and princess, who seemed to have moved on to arguing with one another.

“It’s not a competition, Breha.”

“It is! Bail is impressive. He’s always showing off his skills with his knowledge of politics and finery. I will not lose to him. The three of us will sparkle with elegance with our style and verbal spars.”

“I’ll wear…the other accessories, too,” Anakin rushed out, telling himself that what he would be wearing would be the least of his worries. If Obi-Wan needed space, Anakin could respect that, but that didn’t mean he would give up so easily on them being a part of each other’s lives. Anakin felt the Force embrace him; it filled him with energy and renewed resolve.

“Alright, let’s get this circlet on your head and silk wrapped around your arms.”

Anakin choked on his spit with surprise but quickly surrendered to his fate.

Chapter Text

“Padme, you have outdone yourself,” Obi-Wan said quietly, voice wavering. “It’s lovely.”

“Hey, shouldn’t I get at least some credit? This is my residence, after all.” Bail said, rocking on his feet and mouth grinning so much that Obi-Wan could see the muscle on Bail’s cheek twitching.

“The accolades should go to Padme and me since this was a partnership, after all,” Quinlin pipped in, flipping his locks behind his shoulders. His eyes twinkled with mirth.

Obi-Wan laughed and watched his friends chat and tease one another.

“It was a group effort,” Padme said, looking at everyone. “I’m proud of how we incorporated everything Obi-Wan would enjoy.”

That was very true, Obi-Wan agreed to himself. Potted plants were placed strategically throughout the room, and fresh flowers draped across the ceiling filled the air with a natural scent. Candles enclosed in fireproof bulbs were scattered discreetly near the room’s perimeters, casting a warm glow against the blue, purple, and gold accents and details that adorned the walls, floors, and ceiling. 

The aroma of mouthwatering hors d’oeuvres would draw people to the refreshment table, naturally breaking the ice and allowing the guests to mingle comfortably.

Then, if one preferred to watch and enjoy the scenery, the fashion everyone wore could keep one entertained throughout the evening, another thing Obi-Wan immensely enjoyed about the party. Everyone was dressed more formally, yet there was an air of informality. People chatted freely. Laughter echoed throughout the room openly, and some padawans were comfortable playing games throughout Bail’s residence with people they didn’t know till tonight. 

Obi-Wan could see the touch of personality and care from his friends in every detail and preparation for Obi-Wan’s birthday celebration. He closed his eyes, finally let go of the worries plaguing him constantly, and allowed himself a reprieve by basking in the feeling of the Force permeating the room.

“Care for a drink?”

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to the vibrant face of one of his best friends, smiling coyly at him. 

“Padme. How could I ever thank you.”

“That’s the thing about best friends. You don’t have to worry about that, but I don’t mind hearing it if you need to say it.”

They laughed, and then Obi-Wan leaned in and pecked a friendly kiss on Padme’s cheek.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said.

“And where’s my kiss?” Quinlin asked, putting his arms around Obi-Wan and Padme.

Scoffing, Obi-Wan grabbed both sides of Quinlin’s cheeks and pulled on it.

“Ow!” Quinlin exclaimed, but before he could complain further, Obi-Wan pulled Quinlin close, kissed his other best friend on the head with a big smack, and quickly let go to catch his friend’s gobsmacked face.

“What’s gotten into you?” Quinlin chuckled, fixing his hair.

“I’m content,” Obi-Wan admitted. However, he felt a pang in his heart and resisted acknowledging it.

“I sense there’s more,” Quinlin pushed.

Obi-Wan bit his lip.

“You could talk to us about it again,” Padme suggested.

That’s true, Obi-Wan thought. However, he was tired of constantly bringing up Anakin. Obi-Wan spoke more about Anakin than his success at helping the Queen and her Royal Advisory Council of Naboo.

“I have not received a single reply,” Obi-Wan admitted. “He was in Alderaan the last I heard when we left for Naboo. The last I received was when he was still in Mon Cala.

“Wait, Mon Cala? Alderaan? Why have I not heard the details of this padawan’s mission till now,” asked Quinlin. “Oh my—”

“Shh!” Obi-Wan grabbed Quinlin’s gloved hands and shoved it over his friend’s face. “You are too loud! And I did not tell you because I knew you would immediately figure out who this person is.”

“That’s a very long time,” Padme said, ignoring Quinlin’s muffled protest. “Do you think he was in a place that did not allow him to use his Holocom device?”

Quinlin freed his face and gasped for air.

“Or Padawan Sk—.”

Obi-Wan immediately went to grab Quinlin’s hands again.

“Please be quiet, Quinlin!” Obi-Wan walked away briskly over to the refreshment table and grabbed a drink. He was short of guzzling it before finally being calm again. 

“You two are causing a scene. Let’s discuss this calmly,” Padme chided, arriving at the side of the table where Obi-Wan stood, picking up a bubbly blue and white drink and sipping it. “There has to be a logical reason.”

“Could the reason be he was hanging out with a gorgeous prince and princess and was too busy to contact you?” Quinlin asked.

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. “That’s an oddly specific question, Quinlin. Why—” Obi-Wan turned and followed Quinlin’s gaze across the room. Standing across the room was Anakin, each arm escorting a royalty of Alderaan. Princess Breha of Alderaan and her cousin were chatting amicably with Bail. Bail smiled pleasantly but looked at Obi-Wan, Quinlin, and Padme with disbelieving eyes. The prince and princess were glaring at him. Anakin had a shocked look on his face.

“Oh no,” Padme whispered.

“Obi-Wan, let’s not jump to conclusions,” Quinlin said, observing the three people walking toward them from across the room.

Obi-Wan did not know where to look. Anakin was dazzling from every angle, and Obi-Wan did not want to blink for fear of missing a single sparkle. He wore a hunter-green tunic that contrasted with his dark brown-black undertunic, which glittered like stars and tied everything together with a leather tabard. And…

Padme sniffed the air as Anakin continued to walk closer. Obi-Wan dropped his mouth and quickly shut it. A pleasing scent was getting stronger the longer Quinlin, Obi-Wan, and Padme stood there, watching the three ethereal-like beings approaching them. Obi-Wan felt like he was floating.

A breeze seemingly from nowhere flowed by and shook the waves of Anakin’s dark brown hair, which had gotten longer. Oh, he was definitely taller now. Was Anakin wearing a crown!? No, a circlet, Obi-Wan corrected as Anakin was only a few steps away. Is he a prince now? Calm down, Obi-Wan told himself. Don’t be ridiculous. Anakin’s thin silver circlet pulled the longer hair pieces away from his face, showing off his cheekbones, and he was now smiling at Obi-Wan.

“Are those ribbons?” Obi-Wan asked. He heard Quinlin smother a laugh.

“Huh? Oh. Um. Yeah,” Anakin replied stiffly, lifting his arms and looking at the navy blue ribbons wrapped around them, whose shade was so dark that they were almost black. Obi-Wan wondered if it matched the shade of his midnight blue robe.

Anakin lifted his arms. “Hm, I think it does.”

Kriff! Obi-Wan lamented. He said that out loud.

“Delegate Amidala!” greeted Princess Breha. Her voice had an edge of steel. Padme’s eyes widened with surprise and then realization. She relaxed her shoulders and shared a look with Quinlin.

Obi-Wan registered in the back of his mind that everyone had started making small talk with one another. They might have sung and danced on a table for all Obi-Wan could focus on was Anakin, standing there, glittering and smelling good. 

“Hi, Obi-Wan.”

“Hello, Anakin.”

Okay, Obi-Wan could do this. He could have a normal conversation with Anakin. 

“How are you?”

“Fine. You?”

“Fine.”

Anakin and he spent a lot of time together at the temple, sharing lessons, studying, talking, and sparring. Obi-Wan knew how to talk to someone perfectly well, especially Anakin.

“Happy Birthday.”

“It is not my birthday. It is on a different day.”

Stars. Obi-Wan knew his own birthday. He had one every year. Why can’t he remember?

“Oh. I thought this was your birthday party. I did not know you even had a birthday.”

“Of course, I have a birthday.”

“No, I mean. Ugh. I didn’t know you celebrated your birthday with a party.”

What was Anakin talking about, and what was happening with their stilted conversation, Obi-Wan wondered. With how much they holocomed each other on and off-world, even as they got busier with missions, they would have had plenty of practice talking to one another. They must have sent thousands of holocom recordings to each other by now, especially on Anakin’s end. 

Holocom recordings.

Obi-Wan frowned. Recordings that had not been answered lately. Nothing coincidently since Anakin must have arrived on Alderaan. He felt his gut twist. Obi-Wan turned and observed how the prince of Alderaan’s fingers lingered around Anakin’s upper arms and how Princess Breha’s arm was wrapped securely around Anakin’s other arm. 

“I need to go,” Obi-Wan said. He walked off and did not look back. Obi-Wan heard the rushed footsteps of Padme’s heels chasing after him. Still, he continued out of the front room and into the back of Bail’s private residence until he found a study with a balcony. He rushed through the room until he was outside and took in a lungful of the cold night air of Coruscant. Obi-Wan felt his eyes water the whole way. 

Chapter Text

“Is this lift broken?” Anakin asked. He went to put his hands through his hair and immediately felt a minor slap on his hands.

“Anakin, we already had to fix your circlet twice,” Princess Breha warned.

“No, as I said, the lift is the standard speed. The residence is on the top floor, so it feels like it is taking forever,” replied Prince Bespin.

Anakin reached up, carefully patted his head, and checked to ensure his things were in place. They had woven some of his hair to keep the thin circlet in place, yet there were still pieces of his hair that fell over and tickled his cheek. His eyes caught a loose piece of his armbands just before it whacked him on the face. The ribbons that wrapped and tied up his arms were surprisingly comfortable. They were like what the padawans would usually wear down their arms under their tunics, only smooth ribbons wrapped around the sleeves instead of the usual rough cloth. He carefully put his arm down when he caught a glare from the princess.

They continued to wait quietly as they traveled up to the top floor. Anakin couldn’t decide if the lift taking them to Obi-Wan’s birthday party was too slow or fast.  On the one hand, he could finally see Obi-Wan, but on the other hand, he didn’t know how he would react if the other padawan wanted distance.

“I think I am going to throw up,” Anakin whispered.

“It’ll be fine. Think of it like a mission,” Prince Bespin whispered back.

“You just spent most of the day convincing me this was not a mission!”

They all felt the lift stop. The aroma of savory food and upbeat music hit their senses when the door slid open. A bodyguard stood by the door, and Anakin, Prince Bespin, and Princess Breha were quickly ushered into the residence.

Immediately after crossing the entryway, he saw groups of padawans and others he didn’t know mingling and chatting amicably with each other. Anakin continued to scan the room and had to look away from a few who seemed very focused on only each other.

“You should see your face, Anakin,” Prince Bespin snickered.

“Shut up,” Anakin said, face heating up. He and the prince stopped walking and furiously started whispering to each other.

“It’ll be fine. If anything happens, Breha and I will be right here to support you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Anakin snapped.

“There are many types of support, Anakin.”

“Why are we whispering in the foyer?” asked Princess Breha, who had turned around and searched for them when she noticed they were no longer behind her.

“Foyer?” Anakin looked around the large room filled with tables and people.

“Anakin is panicking,” Prince Bespin explained.

“Is that why it’s so dark? It’s a foyer?” asked Anakin.

“There’s another room where the food and drinks are. Let’s go, my friend’s waiting to greet us.”

Anakin took a breath and linked arms with the prince and the princess before stepping through yet another archway and had to stop immediately. 

Many attributes contributed to how something could look or feel when one gazed upon it. This room could be described as romantic or magical, but Anakin could see it for its technical marvel. For example, this room they stepped into used a soft white setting in their light panels, casting a more natural look on the room. The bulbs holding fire throughout the room led onlookers to believe in the fantasy that everything was lit naturally. 

Even the floating garland of flowers was, in actuality, draped overhead with thin metal strings. The scent of the flowers that permeated the room was created by the quiet setting of air blowing from the ventilators, and the vibration of everyone’s movement shook the string, causing the flowers to create shadows that seemed to dance throughout the room. However, Anakin knew the secret that made the room truly unique, warm, and magical.

“Whoa, talk about dashing,” the prince said.

Anakin frowned at the prince.

Obi-Wan was more than dashing. He was Obi-Wan. 

The prince and Anakin were then startled out of their reverie when they were hit with the sound of Obi-Wan’s laughter. Anakin watched as Obi-Wan wiped a tear and then closed his eyes. 

 Anakin’s brain stalled. He had only felt Obi-Wan’s Force presence this strong once before when they were both in Ilum. Anakin had to remember to breathe again. He felt the prince gently shake his arm.

“Breha was right. Padawan Kenobi is wearing a very elegant outfit tonight.”

Anakin tilted his head to one side and looked at Obi-Wan’s clothes. They looked perfect on Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan looked good in everything. He wore a fitted silver blue under-tunic layered over with blue and silver. His outer layer was dark blue with fitted sleeves, showing off his arms. And over everything, he wore a sleeveless dark blue overcoat lined with swirly bronze designs. The only thing that seemed odd to Anakin was the necklace Obi-Wan wore. It hung some metal carving unfamiliar to him.

“Meet Padawan Anakin Skywalker. He and Jedi Master Windu have been on Alderaan with my cousin and I for some time now. Anakin, meet Bail Prestor, my friend who invited us to this lovely birthday party for his friend.”

Anakin looked into Bail’s brown eyes and froze. The sight spoke to his control, and broken flashes of memories blinked through his mind.

“Are you alright?” asked Bail. Princess Breha touched Anakin’s lower arms with concern.

Blinking away the slight pain, he drew in the Force to ground him and smiled at the senator.

“Bail Organa.”

“What?” Princess Breha squealed. Anakin heard the prince start to laugh.

“I mean Bail Prestor. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” Anakin winced at his slip of the tongue.

Bail laughed. “Bail Organa has a nice sound to it.” He winked at Princess Breha, who was blushing furiously.

“Do you know Padawan Kenobi?” Bail asked.

“Who?” Anakin replied when he was met with surprised looks from all three.

“Oh, I suppose there are a lot of padawans at the Jedi Temple.” Bail recovered.

“No! I mean, yeah. Yes, I know Obi-Wan,” Anakin said. His face was hot with his embarrassment. 

“Oh good.” Bail said.

“Where is the birthday boy?” Princess Breha asked. 

“He’s by the refreshment table the last I was with him,” Bail replied. He and Princess Breha kept taking turns looking at each other and missing each other’s eyes. Anakin almost felt relieved that he wasn’t the only one struggling with embarrassment tonight.

“Alright, Anakin and I will go find the birthday boy while you two catch up,” said the prince, quickly pulling on Anakin’s arm. Anakin followed but was quickly pulled back by the princess.

“Wait, don’t look,” Princess Breha said. 

Anakin watched as a girl approached Obi-Wan with a smile. She wore a dress that left one shoulder bare. Her long, curly brown hair was tied half up, and the rest draped artfully over her bare shoulder. They laughed, and Obi-Wan reached to put a piece of hair behind her ear.

“That’s Delegate Padme Amidala, the friend I told you about. When we met at the Senate, Obi-Wan, Padme, and I became instant friends,” Bail said. “Do you know her?” 

“Padme,” Anakin repeated. Anakin’s mind reeled, and he placed all of the flooding memories away. The Force was still, and Anakin knew in his gut that he knew exactly who she was, but it didn’t change how Anakin felt when he looked at Obi-Wan standing there next to her. 

Focus on the now.

“I want to talk to Obi-Wan,” Anakin stated. He watched as Obi-Wan leaned in closer to Padme and gently kissed her on the cheek.

“Maybe we should wait,” Princess Breha suggested. Anakin looked back at her. He saw a confused look on Bail’s face when he saw their reaction.

Anakin turned and watched with morbid fascination as a familiar Padawan walked over and covered Obi-Wan and Padme with his long arms. He watched Obi-Wan reach for Vos to pull him closer to him. Anakin heard a loud kissing sound, and his mind went blank. He felt the ribbons tighten around his arms.

“Why are we waiting?” Bail asked.

Anakin heard Princess Breha whispering with Bail and looked back at them. Bail’s eyes widened the longer she spoke. 

Frustrated, Anakin relaxed the tension in his body. There’s really no way to find out unless he spoke with them, Anakin supposed.

Anakin stepped forward again, pulling insistently. He felt the prince give and grab onto his arm. Princess Breha soon joined them and walked steadily toward Obi-Wan, Vos, and Padme.

“Are those ribbons?” Obi-Wan greeted. Anakin saw Padme cover her mouth with her hands and saw Quinlin smother a laugh. It immediately threw Anakin off guard at the jovial attitude that surrounded them. 

“Huh? Oh. Um. Yeah,” Anakin replied stiffly, lifting his arms and giving a silent thank you to whoever thought to have him wear the navy blue ribbons. Obi-Wan noticed them. That was all that mattered.

“I wonder if it matches my robe,” Obi-Wan said, pulling Anakin a step closer with his eyes. Anakin smirked, all negativity briefly forgotten. He was sure Obi-Wan was unaware he was telling his thoughts out loud again like he often did with Anakin. He always had on this glazed look that Anakin would tease by poking the other boy in the face when he could.

Anakin realized he already had one of his arms up and suspended mid-air, so he speedily lowered his arm until it was in front of Obi-Wan’s outfit. “Hm, I think it does,” Anakin answered. He held back his grin when he watched Obi-Wan’s shocked face.

“Delegate Amidala!” greeted Princess Breha. She looked pointedly at Anakin, Obi-Wan, Vos, and then to Padme—Delegate Amidala. He watched as everything seemed to clear up in Princess Breha and Senator Amidala the longer they chatted and stared at him and Obi-Wan. Vos, Anakin pointedly ignored, and he didn’t care when Vos greeted him again. He was always amazed at how people could communicate with a phrase or a glance. Anakin didn’t have the patience, but he hoped Vos could tell what he was thinking. He heard their soft chatter continue, and soon, Anakin registered the prince, and Vos started chatting as well. Finally, Anakin could focus on Obi-Wan until it was as if they were the only ones in the room.

“Hi, Obi-Wan.”

“Hello, Anakin.”

Anakin had missed the sound of Obi-Wan’s voice. It was much better in person. 

“How are you?”

“Fine. You?”

“Fine.”

Obi-Wan’s hair was slightly spiked in some areas; he must have trimmed it recently, but it was much longer. It looked like Obi-Wan’s penchant for putting his hand through his hair was as rampant as ever despite it being styled—no doubt for his birthday party. 

Right, birthday, Anakin suddenly felt a pinch of irritation. 

“Happy Birthday.”

“It is not my birthday. It is on a different day.”

Anakin knew when Obi-Wan’s birthday was. That wasn’t what bothered him. 

“Oh. I thought this was your birthday party. I did not know you even had a birthday.”

“Of course, I have a birthday.”

That was not what Anakin meant. He tried to control his growing hurt and frustration. 

“No, I mean. Ugh. I didn’t know you celebrated your birthday with a party,” Anakin snapped.

They stared at each other, and Anakin wished, for the first time, he could read what Obi-Wan was thinking just by looking at him. That did not come out as he intended, especially in front of everyone. He didn’t know how long they had been staring at each other, but he could see Obi-Wan’s eyes begin to water and his lips begin to thin.

“I need to go,” Obi-Wan said abruptly. 

“Wait, Obi-Wan!” Delegate Amidala yelled. She looked at Anakin, and Anakin felt that he was being judged and was failing miserably. She immediately looked away toward Vos, who immediately nodded with understanding.

“Go,” Vos said.

Anakin watched Padme nod and then chase after Obi-Wan. Anakin moved to follow and was immediately stopped by Vos, who placed his hand in front of him. Anakin stopped short of being touched by the other padawan and turned his head slowly toward him.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Vos.”

“Do it anyway,” Vos warned. Vos didn’t wait to see if Anakin would talk, but Bail started talking about how they wondered if Obi-Wan had been seeing someone. Obi-Wan seemed happier than he’d been in quite some time. He would smile when he received an alert from his holocom device.

“How long have you two been seeing each other,” Anakin asked heatedly. We all saw the kiss.”

Vos gave Anakin an unimpressed look.

“You know, Anakin. I’m starting to think you’re an idiot. I don’t know what you saw, but it was not like that,” Vos replied condescendingly.

Anakin glared at Vos and didn’t reply. He knew it wasn’t a romantic kiss, but it still bothered him.

“While Obi-Wan and I were on a mission together, he stopped receiving communications from this person, but Obi-Wan didn’t stop. I even caught Obi-Wan running around a shiny Nubian Starship, holding his holocom.

Anakin’s ears perked despite himself. “Shiny Nubian? Was it a J-type 327 Nubian with chromium plating?“ he asked begrudgingly. He received an incredulous look from Vos. 

“Yes, Anakin, it was a J-type 327 with chromium plating. For whatever reason,” Vos continued, “he stopped receiving messages. Maybe it was the ion storm. Maybe the other padawan was busy with his mission. We all know how Obi-Wan is with Jedi work, so he gets it. Or, and this may be my fault for asking earlier, but maybe this padawan was busy hanging out with gorgeous royalty and forgot about him. And then you have the gall to show up with one on each arm looking like that—you do look good, though, but that’s not my point,” Vos said, pointing at Anakin. 

Anakin’s eyes widened with sudden realization, and he stared incredulously at Vos. Anakin could feel his face flaming with embarrassment. 

“You can’t be serious. Do you honestly think I could forget Obi-Wan? As if he’s not the first person I think of when I wake or the last before I fall asleep. My heart aches when I am not near him, and I forget how to speak in his presence. He could be standing next to a fleet of J-type 327s, and the only one I could see would be Obi-Wan.” Anakin shut his mouth and could feel the heat radiate off his face.

It was mercifully silent.

Vos let out an exasperated sigh and looked up at the ceiling. “Does Obi-Wan know you feel this way? Because from where he stood, I can tell you that whatever he thought only had you and the two royalties.”

“Obi-Wan, you idiot,” Anakin whispered. He stepped toward the direction where Padme and Obi-Wan took off but hesitated. “There’s still something else that doesn’t make sense, though,” he said, looking back at Vos and Bail.

“Go, Anakin,” said Princess Breha.“We will tell them our side of the story.”

Anakin nodded and ran.

Chapter Text

How was Anakin supposed to know that his holocom recordings didn’t reach Obi-Wan? Anakin wondered. He stopped when he realized he found yet another fresher. 

Anakin let his heart guide him. He reached out and searched for Obi-Wan’s Force signature. 

There.

Anakin reached for the door panel when he heard a voice call out.

“Stop.” A soft voice demanded.

It made Anakin stop. He felt her presence get stronger and turned to face her. Padme Amidala stood before him. 

“I want to see him,” Anakin said just as quietly.

“That’s not up for you or me to decide.”

“There’s been a misunderstanding. Neither of us has been getting messages,” Anakin explained.

“You think they were blocked?” Padme asked.

“I do,” Anakin stated, and then he waited. 

“What are your intentions with Obi-Wan?”

Anakin burst out laughing. “What are you, his mother? You can’t be more than a few years older than him.” The tension seemed to relax momentarily, but it changed again when she continued speaking.

“No, I am Padme Amidala, and I have many titles, but one of the important ones is that I am one of Obi-Wan’s best friends,” Padme said vehemently.

“So what, you’re going to protect him? Obi-Wan can defend himself. He’s not breakable.”

“Then why is he crying?” Padme shouted. 

Anakin stepped back like he was struck. Padme gasped in surprise.

“It’s a misunderstanding,” Anakiin said firmly after taking a moment to gather himself.

“I apologize for shouting,” Padme said calmly.

“It’s fine, I shout all the time.”

“Then I suppose all is fair.” Padme took a breath and looked up at Anakin.

“Don’t hurt him again,” Padme said evenly, although Anakin heard the demand all the same. She pointed to the opposite door from where he stood.

Anakin nodded once in her direction but turned his head back briefly.

“I won’t,” Anakin said firmly. He pressed the panel and entered the room.

Which turned out to be a study with no Obi-Wan in sight. The door closed, and Anakin almost marched back toward Padme when he heard a sniffle. 

Anakin relaxed and walked toward the balcony, lifting the curtains and stepping through. The night sky greeted him, and a gust of fresh air hit him. It blew his loose hair into his face, tickling him before calming down. He brushed it out of his face and continued until he found Obi-Wan leaning against the balustrade, looking at the Coruscant skyline.

The light from the stars hit Obi-Wan’s face, making the color of his hair seem like fire. When Obi-Wan turned his watery blue eyes toward Anakin, the bronze on his jacket cast a warm glow around him.

 “Padme, I appreciate you checking on me again, but I will be fine. I need another moment,” Obi-Wan’s voice cut off when he saw Anakin walking toward him. He immediately scrubbed at his eyes and covered them with his palms.

“Why are you here instead of with the prince and princess of Alderaan?”  Obi-Wan shouted.

Anakin grinned and continued to step closer until he was next to Obi-Wan. He bumped him with his shoulder hard enough that Obi-Wan had to take his hands off his face to find his balance.

Obi-Wan openly glared at Anakin, watery eyes temporarily forgotten. For a moment, Obi-Wan looked like he would bump his shoulder back.

“I don’t want to be with the prince and princess of Alderaan,” Anakin said. He could feel his face get hotter the longer Obi-Wan stared at him, eyes narrowing and waiting.

“It sure did not look that way tonight,” Obi-Wan said heatedly.

“It was my mission.”

Obi-Wan pushed away from the balustrade and began to walk away.

“Wait! Princess Breha invited me tonight to thank me for saving the prince from kidnappers.” Anakin rushed out. “Mace said I could think of it as practice undercover work, you know, if I ever have to escort royalty and gather information again.”

Obi-Wan stopped and leaned back on the balustrade. His face went through several emotions at once but settled on worry.

“Kidnappers?”

“Yeah, and then when we were on the run, my holocom device was destroyed, and then there was the fight, and I got injured, so yes, I didn’t holocom you during that time—”

Anakin paused when he felt a hand wrap around his arm, and he lost all words as he felt the heat of Obi-Wan’s hand.

“On the run? Fighting? Injury? Are you alright? Are you still hurt?” With each of his questions, Obi-Wan’s voice increased in volume, and Anakin finally placed his hand over Obi-Wan’s and brought it between his hands.

“I’m fine. They healed me and...”

Obi-Wan scoffed, pulling his hand away, “No doubt nursed back to health by the prince and princess.”

“I was injured and passed out. I had no control over who took care of me.” Anakin decided to leave out that the prince was by his bedside almost daily. 

“Hm, convenient.” 

Anakin gritted his teeth with annoyance.

“And what about you with that loud kiss with Vos? Huh?” Anakin asked, crossing his arms.

“Kiss? Oh. That was not, it wasn’t like that,” Obi-Wan argued. 

“Really? It sure didn’t look like it was nothing. And don’t say it’s a ‘friendly’ kiss because I sure don’t kiss my friends like that.”

That brought Obi-Wan back to a boil. 

“Many cultures across the Galaxy kiss their friends like that. Some even—the point is, how dare you judge other cultural norms with your own.”

Anakin dropped his mouth open. 

“Seriously? Have you not been judging me all night? We haven’t seen each other in so long, and seeing you made me. I just…It doesn’t matter,” Anakin said, turning his head away. He doesn’t know how to put his feelings into words now he was in front of Obi-Wan when, only moments ago, everything came pouring out. Anakin came here tonight prepared to give Obi-Wan space if he needed it, but now that he knew neither had received messages from the other, then—oh.

“You are right, it doesn’t matter,” Obi-Wan repeated quietly.

Anakin turned back toward Obi-Wan with surprise. He was distinctly getting the feeling that Obi-Wan had most definitely misinterpreted him. 

“Uh, when I say it doesn’t matter, I don’t mean…whatever it is you are thinking right now. More importantly, I have to tell you something. Our messages weren’t—”

Obi-Wan allowed a slight furrow in his brows and pursed his lips gently before transforming before Anakin’s eyes. When he spoke, Anakin felt like he received a punch to the gut.

“Thank you for coming to my party. You must forget my rudeness. Please enjoy the festivities and give my regards to the Alderaanian monarch,” Obi-Wan said politely, cutting Anakin off. Obi-Wan even changed how he stood and smiled at him. It was a smile that he’d seen Princess Breha use in her meetings—one that should not be directed toward Anakin and definitely not from Obi-Wan.

Anakin could feel his face get hot again, but for different reasons.

“What are you talking about, and why are you acting like this?” Anakin asked sharply, causing Obi-Wan to flinch.

For a moment, he thought Obi-Wan would open up. Talk with him like they always did until tonight, but he could see when Obi-Wan withdrew into himself and stepped back. Well, Anakin thought, perhaps Anakin was not the type of guy who knew how to give space. He stepped forward and grabbed a hold of Obi-Wan’s arm.

“Don’t leave,” Anakin demanded. When Anakin noticed the tone in his voice, he thought he would receive a real punch from Obi-Wan, but luckily, Anakin only received a glare. Anakin slowly slid his hands down to clasp Obi-Wan’s hand. Obi-Wan’s hand was cold compared to Anakin’s, but he could already feel the temperature change the longer Obi-Wan allowed Anakin to hold his hand.

“I know you are upset about not receiving a single response from me, but Obi-Wan. I never received a single holocom recording from you since I was still in Mon Cala.”

Obi-Wan looked up into Anakin’s eyes in shock. 

“But I sent countless messages to you, Anakin. Hundreds. You know how hard it is for me to use my holocom device. I’m not as great at it as you are. I just thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

Anakin scoffed. As if that would ever happen, Anakin thought to himself.

“I never got them! When I got the new holocom device, I contacted you immediately and sent you hundreds of recordings. Now, I know it may seem easier to send those recordings to you, but it isn’t easy even for me to contact someone you have feelings for. You have no idea how many times I had to rerecord. At least you record them once in one go.”

Anakin saw Obi-Wan’s shoulders stiffen and felt his hand twitch in his. Anakin regrettably let go of Obi-Wan’s hand.

“Do you know why this happened?” Obi-Wan asked, taking a small step away.

“I don’t know. Somehow, neither of our messages were being transmitted or received. I could look at your Holocom device later if you allow me to.”

Obi-Wan nodded. Anakin noticed Obi-Wan take another silent step backward, still quiet. Anakin narrowed his eyes toward the other boy.

“There’s something else I want you to know: I will never give up contacting you,” Anakin said, biting his lips nervously. “I knew you would be worried, and I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten you because you have become one of the most important people in my life. I looked forward to the moments when I’d be able to hear your voice, see your smile, and hear about your day. Obi-Wan I—”

“No,” Obi-Wan said firmly, finally meeting Anakin’s gaze.

“No, what?” Anakin asked, confused.

“I can’t have another difficult thing in my life.”

“What’s difficult?” Anakin asked, completely befuddled by the sudden change in Obi-Wan’s demeanor.

Obi-Wan winced, “Poor choice of words. I don’t mean—”

“You think I’m difficult. Well, yes, I am, but that’s not what you’re really saying. Obi-Wan, since when do you take so long to say what you really mean when talking to me? This is unlike you.”

“I know!” Obi-Wan bellowed. 

Anakin stopped and stared at Obi-Wan dumbfounded.

“Explain,” Anakin demanded. They just finished overcoming one hurdle, he lamented to himself.

“This is what I’m referring to Anakin. It was not this hard to talk to each other. And before you say whatever you were going to say, we should, um, take a step back.”

 Anakin pierced Obi-Wan with his most serious look. Obi-Wan seemed dubious, but he waited patiently for Anakin to explain his thoughts.

“Considering how much time has passed since we have seen each other in person, we are doing rather well. We talked daily, sent recordings when we couldn’t and had a device break, but I still made it to your birthday party while on a mission! You have to consider all the facts, Obi-Wan.”

“Be serious, Anakin!”

“I am! You be serious. Tell me what this is actually about. Since when did we become difficult? Since when did you even care if things were difficult? Almost everything you do is difficult by default.”

“That’s just it, Anakin.” Obi-Wan finally yelled in frustration and started to pace. “Everything in my life seems difficult by default, and I care. I hate that I must work so hard to be at the temple, be a padawan, and go on a mission I deserve. And among all the hardships, you were the one thing in my life that was easy.”

“Easy, huh?”

“I don’t mean—”

“Yes, Obi-Wan. I know what you mean.”

“That’s exactly why we,” Obi-Wan pointed back and forth between them, “should continue to be, um. Friends.”

“Uh, no. If you plan to reject whatever you think I would say, be clear about it.”

“I just don’t want to mess this up. Anakin, you’re important to me, too, and I felt like I almost ruined everything tonight. I couldn’t talk to you like a normal…person. I get nervous when I’m near you, but when we are apart, I feel like a part of me is still with you. I think about you all the time. I was going to be helping with negotiations and was late because I was busy recording a message for you, and then when my friend finds me to—you know, remind me that the leaders of a planet are waiting for me, I end up talking about you. You’re becoming the whole world to me, and that scares me. It feels inescapable as if I were to leave and go to another universe and will inevitably gravitate back to you. Everything leads to you, Anakin!”

 Obi-Wan took a moment to catch his breath. When he looked up at Anakin, Anakin had already moved closer to him. Anakin cupped Obi-Wan’s face in his hands and leaned his forehead against him.

“Then let me be the whole world because you had been mine all along,” Anakin whispered. 

Then, Anakin kissed him.

As far as a first kiss goes, it wasn’t the worst, Anakin thought. It was quick and made an embarrassing smack, but it mostly hit the target, which, considering how close they were, would be extra embarrassing if he missed completely. However, to see the happy smile and loving eyes on Obi-Wan’s face made it all worth it.

Anakin sighed with relief, but that was the only time he had before he was suddenly embraced in Obi-Wan’s arms.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin squeaked.

“I meant to tell you earlier that I am relieved you are okay. I want to hear all about your adventures on Alderaan later.”

Later. That’s a good sign, Anakin thought. With relief, he dropped his head onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder and nodded, careful not to disrupt what he was saying or doing.

“Second, I apologize for not hearing your side of the situation earlier. It was also very presumptuous of me to comment on your relationship status with the prince and princess.”

Anakin laughed and placed a hand around Obi-Wan’s back.

“Oh, am I hugging you too tight?” Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin felt Obi-Wan loosen his arms as if to let go, so Anakin quickly placed his other arm around Obi-Wan and hugged him closer.

“Not tight enough,” Anakin said into Obi-Wan’s shoulder

“Any tighter and your insides will get squished.”

“Obi-Wan.”

“It’s also a very good thing you smell nice, or else this would be mmmph.”

Anakin didn’t know how long the first kiss was, but when they separated from their second kiss, they both had to take a moment to catch their breath. When they looked at each other, Anakin was surprised by how serious Obi-Wan’s face looked. Instead of seeing Obi-Wan all flustered, Obi-Wan continued as if nothing had happened.

Was it that bad? Anakin asked himself with horror.

“Anakin? My dear, are you listening?”

“Obi-Wan, I—”

“Let me finish what I was saying,” Obi-Wan said, grinning, cheeks tinged pink.

“Third of all—”

“For Force’s sake, Obi-Wan.”

“I have feelings for you too.”

Anakin had time to blink once before it was his turn to be surprised because Obi-Wan was now kissing him thoroughly. Anakin felt one of Obi-Wan’s hands tickle against his neck as he slid a hand into his hair. He felt Obi-Wan gently tug at one of the loose hair pieces and felt the lightest touch of Obi-Wan’s other hand sliding across his cheeks, brushing his eyelashes. Anakin sighed and pressed Obi-Wan closer to him, deepening the kiss.

They slowly broke apart when their lungs burned for air and rested their forehead against each other again as they caught their breath. When they opened their eyes to look at each other, he didn’t know who started it, but they both started laughing and jabbing each other on their sides with their fingers.

Anakin suddenly remembered he had brought something to give to Obi-Wan.

“Anakin?”

“Hold on. Here it is.” Anakin pulled out a very squished and deformed sweet cake, which luckily was still in its wrapper.

“You brought sweet cakes?” Obi-Wan exclaimed.

“‘The coveted ones from Alderaan,’” Anakin whispered. These were the exact words Obi-Wan had said to him when he saved Anakin from the icy lake of Ilum.

Obi-Wan reached for Anakin and kissed him again. This one was shorter but just as sweet. Anakin couldn’t help the goofy grin on his face.

When they almost finished eating the delicious sweet cake, Anakin reached into his sleeves and pulled out his new holocom device, the latest model he had received as a gift. 

“Obi-Wan, could I have your holocom device? I want to see if I can retrieve those messages we sent each other. You can have my new one for now while I look at this one.”

“Of course. I’ve been meaning to get a new one since I use it so much now,” Obi-Wan said, handing over his holocom.

“Are you two decent? Some of us were wondering when you will be back inside,” asked a familiar voice.

“Padme!” Obi-Wan said aghast. Anakin grabbed his stomach and laughed.

“I knew this would happen,” Obi-Wan grumbled, looking at Padme and Anakin, who were still snickering.

The three of them walked calmly back into the main room, and if anyone saw Anakin and Obi-Wan’s intertwined hands, no one commented, although Anakin did hear a few whistles from some of the other padawans.

Anakin watched Obi-Wan receive hugs and pats on the back and smiled happily for Obi-Wan, but as he felt for Obi-Wan’s holocom again, he had a feeling that whatever or whoever had interfered with his messages with Obi-Wan it would be something that would require all of their strength to overcome. However, for now, Anakin looked at Obi-Wan. As if feeling his eyes on him, Obi-Wan turned back and returned a matching smile. For now, Anakin would focus on the important people in his life, and whatever came for them in the future, he knew they would face it together.

End of Part 1.