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The first time, Anakin’s curled up under a blanket in the galley of Padme’s ship. Space is so much colder, Padme said, than Tatooine. His fingers and toes are freezing, even where he’s buried them in his clothes to keep them warm.
“Hello there.” A stranger Anakin hasn’t met yet says, taking a seat across from him at the table. He’s a Jedi too, because Anakin saw him fight the evil Zabrak before they took off. “I’m Obi-Wan. We haven’t met yet.” He has a fancy sounding accent, more posh than Mr. Jinn’s or Padme’s.
“I’m Anakin Skywalker.” Anakin returns, because his name is important. Skywalker, he who shows the way. “Padme’s my soulmate.” That feels important too, in case Obi-Wan doesn’t think he should be here.
It doesn’t seem to surprise the younger Jedi. “I heard you aren’t sure who is the Sacrifice and who is the Fighter yet.”
Anakin shakes his head. “No, but I think I’m the Sacrifice.” He uncurls, wincing in the cold, and pulls the leg of his pants up to show the minor rash he got when he fell in the sand earlier.
Obi-Wan’s expression is very serious when he leans over Anakin and observes the rash. “Ouch.” He tell Anakin sympathetically. “It looks like you’re correct. That can be a blessing though – I don’t think Padme will be prone to getting hurt very often.”
Anakin thinks so too. “I want to be a Jedi. Mr. Jinn said I could be. I don’t want Padme to get hurt when I’m fighting.”
“Very noble.” Obi-Wan agrees. Anakin can’t read his expression, serious and stoic. “Soulbound are very rare in the order. There’s only one other Jedi with a soulmate right now.”
“Really?” Anakin can’t hide his excitement at the news. Another soulbound! Anakin was the only one he knew, before he met Padme and felt the name under his right collarbone flare to life. “Will I get to meet them?”
Obi-Wan smiles, but Anakin can tell it’s a little sad. “Probably.” He says. He stands and pats Anakin on the shoulder. “Try to get some sleep, little one. We’ll be on Coruscant soon.”
“I’m not little.” Anakin grumbles, but he likes Obi-Wan. The Jedi seems kind. Anakin hopes they’ll be friends.
*~*~*
The next time Anakin and Obi-Wan talk about Padme, it’s months later. So much has happened. Anakin’s a Jedi now – a padawan – but Mr. Jinn is dead and Obi-Wan is Anakin’s master (Anakin doesn’t like the word, even though Obi-Wan says it just means “one who has mastered the Force”) and they’re finding a rhythm to each other. Being a Jedi is hard. Anakin is too much. Too loud, too dumb, too brash, too aggressive, too angry.
“I’m not giving up on you.” Obi-Wan tells him after they fight one evening. “You’re not too much for me.”
It sounds old. Anakin is learning to trust the Force, and he can tell that what Obi-Wan means only has a little to do with Anakin himself. Everyone, but especially Obi-Wan, says things that have little to do with Anakin and more to do with themselves. It makes Anakin even angrier.
It’s after another one of their fights, when the heat of the moment passes and Anakin feels more shame than anger flooding him, that Anakin says, “Maybe I shouldn’t be a Jedi. Maybe I should go be with Padme instead.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t say anything for a long while. Just stares at Anakin as he holds a mug of tea between both hands, index finger tracing imaginary lines over the surface. “Being a Jedi is a sacrifice, Anakin. Not everyone is cut out for it. If you wanted to be with Padme instead, I’d understand.”
For some reason, Anakin’s anger flares bright and hot at that. “You’d like that wouldn’t you! To get rid of the padawan you never wanted!”
Obi-Wan blinks at him, sighs and says. “I do not want to be rid of you. I want you as my padawan, Anakin. You are not a burden.”
Anakin feels his eyes tearing up at that. Why does Obi-Wan say things like that? Why does it hurt so much even when it feels like it shouldn’t? Obi-Wan’s a liar. He’ll leave too. Just like Mom. Just like Mr. Jinn. Just like Padme.
“I want you to know that you have options, Anakin.” Obi-Wan continues. He lets go of the teacup and rolls up his robes, exposing his forearm and the name written there. Curious, Anakin leans over and inspects the soul mark. It’s not in Arubesh, so Anakin has no idea what it says, but the letters look odd, jagged almost. Not the elegant script of his own name. “When I met my soulmate, I considered not coming back to the order at all.”
“You have a soulmate?” Anakin gasps, surprised and a little hurt that Obi-Wan kept this from him for so long. “Are you the Fighter or the Sacrifice?”
Obi-Wan lets his sleeves slip back over his arm. “That’s not important.” Obi-Wan tells him. “My soulmate and I… we’re… it’s complicated. But even then, there’s connection there. I am bound to him the way you are bound to Padme, but being a Jedi means you must sacrifice the bond with your soulmate itself. It’s not an easy thing. I believe you can do it, Anakin. Your heart will call out to her, but to be a Jedi means to sacrifice that desire for the good of many.”
Anakin can feel the presence of Padme in his chest, if he concentrates on it. She’s a soft warmth in his heart, next to the bond he shares with Obi-Wan. “I understand. I want to be a Jedi. I do. I’m just…”
He doesn’t know what to say, but once again Obi-Wan seems to understand without needing Anakin to say it. “You can do it. I believe in you.”
*~*~*
Anakin’s thirteen when he must take a health class on reproduction among humans and near human species. It’s a requirement for all padawans to take species specific health classes at various milestones of adolescence, and Anakin supposes there are worse ways he could learn about sex. Like getting a lecture from Obi-Wan on it.
At least Master Che isn’t awkward about it. She’s very perfunctory as she describes sex and pregnancy. It’s not encouraged for Jedi to have children, but they can and it’s not shameful. “It takes two for humans and near humans to make a baby, so everyone needs to learn how it can happen.” She tells a class of snickering preteens and teens.
Everything was going fine, until the lesson on childbirth. She shows them a video of a woman giving birth and it looks painful. Anakin’s glad he’s not a woman. Thank goodness that won’t happen to him.
Except… his Fighter is female. And any pain she experiences transfers to Anakin as the Sacrifice. His hand shoots up and Master Che calls on him.
“Will I – ugh, do Sacrifices feel pain from childbirth?” He asks, only narrowly correcting himself at the last second. It’s not that being soulbound is a secret. Some of Anakin’s peers actually think it’s really cool he has a soulmate.
Master Che frowns and for a moment Anakin thinks he did something wrong. “I don’t know.” She admits. “The soul bond works across analogous organs, but I don’t know whether a male Sacrifice would experience the pain of his female Fighter’s pregnancy.” Then she pauses. “Your master may know. He’s spent more time among soulbound.”
Anakin doesn’t know what Master Che means by that, but when he gets back to his and Master Obi-Wan’s quarters, it’s the first thing he asks, even before Master can ask him how his day was.
Unfortunately, Master Obi-Wan is taking a sip of tea when Anakin asks, and he begins to choke on it. Anakin waits patiently for his master to recover, sitting on the couch beside him. Obi-Wan takes a breath, sets his tea aside, and says, “I don’t know.”
Anakin groans. He doesn’t want to feel if Padme ever has a baby. He doesn’t want to bleed like the person in the video did. Maybe next time he sees Padme he can ask her to never have any children, for his sake. That’s a reasonable request, right?
Master Obi-Wan reads the expression on Anakin’s face and laughs. “I don’t know, padawan mine, but thankfully I have a pretty good idea of someone who might.”
Anakin waits impatiently as Obi-Wan grabs his comm and connects to someone on the other end. “What?” The being, masculine sounding, snaps into the comm before the visual comes up. Anakin gasps, seeing a Mandalorian helmet and pauldrons. “Jetii, what has Jango done this time?”
“For once I am not calling to complain about my Fighter, Baar’ur Gilamar.” Obi-Wan answers with a smile. Anakin stares in awe. Is Obi-Wan’s Fighter a Mandalorian too? Wizard! “My padawan has a question about soul bonds that I think a Mandalorian medic might be better able to answer than our temple healers could.”
Obi-Wan glances over at Anakin expectantly, and Anakin swallows. Master Obi-Wan wants Anakin to ask the question? To the scary Mandalorian? Aren’t they like, the ancient enemies of the Jedi.
But Baar’ur Gilamar removes his helm when Obi-Wan turns the comm towards Anakin. “Ad’ika.” He greets, sounding much less grumpy. He’s a human or near human, old but not terribly old, with noticeable lines across his forehead and lighter color hair at his temples. “I am Mij Gilamar. Obi-Wan did not tell me he had a student.”
He didn’t? Anakin glances at Obi-Wan but his master feels rather closed off in the Force. Not like he’s avoiding Anakin, but more like he doesn’t have anything to say. Before Anakin can say anything, Gilamar interrupts. “Ask your question, ad’ika.”
Anakin wonders what ad’ika means, but he does as Gilamar said. “Will I feel if when my female Fighter gives birth?”
“Some.” Gilamar answers. “I take it you’re a Sacrifice, ad’ika?”
Anakin nods. “My name’s Anakin.” He says, a little short at the term he doesn’t know the meaning of.
Gilamar smiles, too much teeth. “An’ika, then. Assuming you’re not dualsex, you’ll feel discomfort and cramping from your Fighter but any injury won’t transfer to you. Childbirth is one of the few ways a Fighter can die before their Sacrifice. Don’t ask me why. Even Mandalorians don’t fully understand soul bonds.”
Anakin swallows. He doesn’t want to think about Padme dying! That’s worse than Anakin feeling her pain. He’d rather the latter than the former.
“Is that all An’ika?” Gilamar asks. Anakin nods. “Good. Keep an eye on your master then. He has a penchant for trouble, and don’t hesitate to call me if you have any more questions.”
“Vor entye, Baar’ur Gilamar.” Obi-Wan replies, before hanging up the call.
“He was nice.” Anakin remarks after. “A little scary though. Mandalorians are so wizard!”
Obi-Wan cracks a smile at him. “Medic Gilamar is all bark and only some bite.” He explains. “But he’s the best medic on Mandalore, and specializes in treating Sacrifices.”
“Is that how you know him? Because you’re a Sacrifice and your Fighter is a Mandalorian?”
Obi-Wan smiles at Anakin, but it’s forced. It doesn’t reach his eyes, straining at the edges. “Yes. Very perceptive.” Anakin wants to ask more, curious about the Fighter his master never talks about, but Obi-Wan stands up. “All right, padawan mine, it’s time to study now and then dinner and training after dinner. Let’s get to it.”
Anakin groans, but stands up to go to his room. The evasion doesn’t escape him, but he doesn’t know how to press, even as curiosity burns him.
*~*~
Anakin’s fourteen when he wakes up in a sweat, hacking up what feels like gallons of mucus. He feels sick. Breathing hurts. With a worried heart, he reaches out over his bond with Obi-Wan and calls for help.
It’s barely a moment later before Obi-Wan is rushing into Anakin’s room, tripping over droid parts as he falls down next to Anakin’s bed, placing a blessedly cool wrist against Anakin’s flushed forehead. Anakin’s barely aware of what happens next. When he’s next aware he’s in the Halls of Healing with a worried Healer Che leaning over injecting him with a hypo as she interrogates Master Obi-Wan about their latest mission.
“What about Anakin’s soulmate?” Healer Che asks. “Where has she been recently?”
Anakin frowns, for a second unable to comprehend why that matters, but Master pales before pulling out his comm and tapping out a quick sequence. “I’m asking.” He says, and Anakin feels a bit hurt. He didn’t know Obi-Wan was talking to Padme.
Sure enough, not even a moment later Obi-Wan answers his comm and Anakin hears Padme’s voice. “Master Kenobi?” She asks, worried.
“Padme, I’m sorry to bother you.” Obi-Wan begins. “But Anakin’s sick. We think the infection may have come from you."
"Oh that’s terrible!” Padme cries, distraught. “I was assisting Senator Organa with a refugee operation. Some of the people in the camp had Rylothi Fever. I masked and everything, but I guess I wasn’t careful enough. I’m so sorry.”
Obi-Wan glances at Healer Che, who nods and says, “It’s all right, Miss Naberrie. Just remember that even though you don’t experience symptoms, you can still pass the illness along to Anakin. Now that we know what Anakin has, we can treat him and he’ll be fine.”
“Oh thank goodness. I am so sorry once again. Please keep me updated on Anakin’s status. I’ll be more careful from now on.”
They hang up shortly after. “She’s a good Fighter.” Healer Che says to Obi-Wan.
“Yes, Anakin is very lucky to have her.” Obi-Wan says.
“Master.” Anakin replies, peeved. “How come you never told me you were talking to Padme.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “You’d beg me every night to talk to her if I told you, but I send her regular updates on how you’re doing.”
“Not fair.” Anakin pouts. He feels so tired and gives in to sleep not long after, but he can see Obi-Wan’s smile as his master reaches out to take his hand.
*~*~*
Anakin has just made senior padawan not a week before the day Obi-Wan suddenly collapses in a training salle, blood spreading from a blaster shot in his side that appeared out of nowhere. Anakin has seen his master be injured by his Fighter before – sometimes Obi-Wan even gets a call from the Mandalorian medic Gilamar and goes to the Halls of Healing in preparation for his Fighter getting into danger, but he’s never seen an injury this bad happen without any warning.
Now that Anakin’s sixteen, he has enough knowledge of the universe to know that Obi-Wan’s Fighter leads a dangerous life as a Mandalorian, and that Anakin is pretty lucky that for the most part his injuries from Padme amount to nothing more than shallow bruises and the occasional flimsy cut.
Anakin rushes to his master’s side, peeling back Obi-Wan’s robes to get a look at the injury. It’s gruesome, a bleeding, meaty mass of muscle. With a wince Anakin covers it back up and presses his hands against the fabric and the wound, trying to keep it from bleeding out. Another wound appears, a laceration across Obi-Wan’s chest, jagged edges of a vibro-knife, but shallow enough that Anakin’s not giving up his current position to tend to that wound.
Kriff, what is Obi-Wan’s Fighter doing? Don’t Mandalorians wear armor? Where is Obi-Wan’s soulmate’s armor?
It seems an eternity before healers make it to the salle, pushing aside Anakin as they lift Obi-Wan onto a gurney. Anakin follows closely, not wanting to leave his master for even a minute.
“Prep the surgery.” He hears one of the healers call into their comm. “And get a bacta bath prepared. We don’t know how many more injuries we’ll be dealing with.”
In the Halls of Healing, Anakin’s left to wait and pace and wait while his master undergoes surgery. It feels forever before Healer Che appears, still wearing her surgical gown covered in Obi-Wan’s blood.
“The injuries stopped about fifteen minutes ago.” Master Che says. “Obi-Wan’s still in surgery as we finish closing the wounds and then we’ll put him in bacta overnight.”
Anakin nods. He feels helpless. This isn’t the first time Obi-Wan’s Fighter had gotten him injured, but this is the worst it’s been. “I thought Mandalorians wore armor.” He admits, because it feels like the one thing he has control over.
Master Che tilts her head consideringly. “I’m going to call Baar’ur Gilamar now and see if he can shed some light on what happened. Do you want to join me?”
Anakin nods. He wants answers. Master Che leads him back to her office where she strips out of the gown before connecting her desktop comm to Gilamar. Anakin’s spoken to him a few times in the three years since his first question about soulmates, and by the way he answers immediately sans helmet, it looks like he talks to Master Che too.
“Master Che.” Gilamar greets. “How is Master Kenobi?”
“Alive.” Master Che answers. “He should be going into bacta in the next few minutes. How is the Mand’alor?”
“Pissed off.” Gilamar greets. “Hutuun aruetii attacked in the middle of the night, forgoing a proper challenge. He’s been dealt with and Jango is dealing with the security breach. Have Master Kenobi call him as soon as he’s out of bacta, regardless of the time. I’ll let Jango know his Sacrifice is still alive, but that will only appease him for so long.”
Anakin’s ears are ringing as he listens. He knew from the way Baar’ur Gilamar and Obi-Wan talked about him that Obi-Wan’s Fighter was a high ranking Mandalorian, but the Mand’alor? The ruler of Mandalore?
Kriff. Anakin wants to scream. Why didn’t Obi-Wan tell him?
Anakin tosses and turns that night, alone in their quarters because Master Che said he couldn’t sleep in the Halls. He wakes early, skips breakfast, and heads to the Halls so he can be there the moment Obi-Wan wakes up.
As he waits, Anakin taps his foot impatiently, wishing he’d brought something to keep his hands occupied, as Obi-Wan is left in a bio-bed, skin pale but blessedly free of injury beneath his medical gown. When Obi-Wan starts to shift, Anakin’s by his side as his master opens his eyes.
Why didn’t you tell me? Is the first thing Anakin wants to ask, hurt and accusatory, but Obi-Wan glances around and beats him to saying anything. “What happened?”
“You’re soulmate, the Mand’alor,” Anakin spits the title like an insult, “was nearly assassinated yesterday.”
Obi-Wan winces. “Ah.” Just a simple sound, not a defense, not anger. “So you found out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Anakin bursts out, anger like a bright flare as his voice is just below the threshold for yelling that will get him kicked out of the halls.
Obi-Wan sighs and sinks down into his pillow. “It wasn’t important.”
It wasn’t important. That’s his master’s excuse. Anakin grits his teeth. “Of course not. You never tell me anything about yourself. You knew what it was like to have a planetary ruler for a soulmate and you never told me? Did you think it wouldn’t matter to me?”
“Anakin.” Obi-Wan always sounds so kriffing calm when he talks to Anakin. It makes him angrier. “It wasn’t that. My relationship with the Mand’alor is nothing like the one you have with Padme. It’s completely different.”
“Oh yeah?” Anakin challenges. “How?”
Obi-Wan doesn’t answer. Just like him to do that. Anakin growls in frustration and turns away. Suddenly he can’t stand the sight of the man who raised him.
“I wasn’t destined for Jango Fett the way you were destined for Padme.” Obi-Wan says finally, in the silence that follows, voice soft. “I’m a blank soul.”
Anakin’s heard of blank souls before. Soulbound can be felt in the Force. The only way to identify a blank soul is by either the innate sensing all soulbound have or by using the Force. Anakin’s never met one before though. Well, not before Obi-Wan.
“Why did you agree to become his Fighter then? That seems like a foolish idea, being a Mandalorian’s Sacrifice.”
“I didn’t.” Obi-Wan replied. “You don’t need a blank’s permission to bind with them; you just need to write your name on them and seal it with blood.”
Horror fills Anakin. He spins around to face his master, who is looking down at the name written on his arm. The one that’s written in Mando’a, the script almost like… almost like it was carved there with a knife. “What?”
“Mandalorians believe the soulbound are blessed by the stars, and only a soulbound with a living soulmate can be the Mand’alor. The Jedi killed Jango’s Sacrifice, so he stole a Jedi padawan to replace him.” Obi-Wan sounds too calm, carefully detached. “I don’t hate Jango Fett, but I don’t love him either. Not the way you love Padme. Can you blame me for never talking about him?”
No. Anakin doesn’t think he does. “I would kill him.” Anakin replied. “Gilamar said decapitation could kill a Fighter without killing their soulmate. That’s what I’ll do.”
Obi-Wan chuckles softly, but he glances up and he’s got a tiny smile on his face. “Oh my very young padawan, you will do no such thing.”
Anakin doesn’t respond. If he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to promise his master he won’t try.