As dreamers do

by SpoopyTheOtherAlien

Summary:

Every two hundred years, an object known as the Wishing Star falls on the planet of Tatooine, searching for some of the most broken people in the galaxy. This time, it finds none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi. Despite all he has endured, he makes a wish for Anakin Skywalker to live a happy life, no matter the cost.

What everyone forgot to take into account was Anakin Skywalker himself.

Notes:

I had such an amazing time writing this story. I'm so thankful that I was given the opportunity to participate in this event. A huge shout-out to the moderators there. They did such a wonderful job planning this event and helping anyone who had questions.

It is said that every two hundred years, a dazzling star falls on the planet of Tatooine, finding the person with the most powerful and captivating dreams. The ancients called this mystical object the Wishing Star, a star meant for the brightest of dreamers. The ancients claimed that the star was for visionaries, for people who carried hope like a well-worn robe and weren’t afraid to stand up for their beliefs.

What they refused to speak about was the truth behind the illustrious star, and who it was truly destined to find.

The secret of the Wishing Star was that the beautiful star was drawn to those who were the most broken and damaged in the galaxy. It was only meant to find the people who had lost everything but still remained true to their beliefs. It was for those who remained hopeful, despite having lost everyone and everything they ever loved.

It would come as a surprise to no one that the star was destined to find Obi-Wan Kenobi.

-

“Oh, my dear child.” A voice spoke in Obi-Wan’s mind, the fallen star in his hands emitting a subtle glow. “There is so much pain inside of you, so much heartache. You have faced such hardships haven’t you?”

“Who are you?” The former Jedi Master asked carefully, a pinprick of unease creeping down his spine. He held onto the star tighter, the force urging him to keep it close. “What are you?” Obi-Wan questions instead, recalling the similar sensation he felt on Mortis, all those years ago. The voice in his head went silent before it spoke up again in a soothing voice.

“Many cultures have used different names for me. In the past, your people on Stewjon often referred to me as the Guardian of life and wishes. In the days of old, children often wished upon the stars in hopes I would answer,”

“Astorius,” Obi-Wan exhaled, a distant memory resurfacing, of a woman holding a datapad and reading childhood stories. If he focused hard enough, he could still envision a beautiful shawl around the woman as well.

“That is one of the many names I’ve been called across the stars. On this planet, I’m simply known as the Wishing Star,” The voice responded wistfully, but then it paused, a soft hum reverberating. “And like many of those who wished upon the stars, you too have a wish that burns brightly within you,”

It felt like a warm hand was resting on his chest, despite there not being another soul for miles. He choked on a breath as that invisible hand pushed harder, almost embedding itself into his very core as a familiar pain shot through him. He clenched his eyes shut and bit down on the groan that wanted to escape.

His reprieve comes with the sensation of another invisible hand, this one gentle in comparison. It rests on his forehead, its touch cool against his heated flesh, the feeling reminding him of a gust of wind on a hot day. It slowly numbs the pain in his chest, everything slowing down around him.

“You buried your heart beneath the sands on this planet,” The voice in his head rings out, the words making his body freeze as his heart drops to the bottom of his stomach. “Only to dig it up and lose it all over again,” The former Jedi choked on a sob, just barely keeping it down.

“Stop,” He croaks out, the heartache returning full force as if it had happened only yesterday. His eyes fill with unshed tears that threaten to spill over, skin prickling as the powerful being brings up the horrible memories. “Please,” Obi-Wan pleads desperately, clenching his eyes shut again, refusing to let the anguished tears fall.

“Love. It is such a funny thing,” The voice pays him no mind, their tone full of sadness and regret. “How it can be the thing to cause us the most harm.” Obi-Wan shudders, sucking in a harsh breath at the words that threaten to shatter his already broken heart. “How is it that the ones we love often hurt us the most?” He flinches hard, trying to break the spell, but the invisible hand never leaves its spot on his head.

Instead, the hand on his head shifts. Cool fingers brush against his temple slowly and deliberately, the touch almost sympathetic.

“How is it that we still love them more than anything, despite the lasting pain they cause us?” Tears slide down his cheeks, unable to fight them off anymore. He continues to clutch the star like a lifeline, unafraid of it shattering in his grasp. “Why is it that we still want them to be happy? Why is it that their pain is ours, and that we would give anything to make it disappear?”

The longer Astorius speaks, the more Obi-Wan finds himself drowning in his grief. Horrible memories and the pain they caused plagued him, his heart constricting tightly. He grinds his teeth, trying to hold onto the teachings the Jedi taught him long ago. To let his anguish into the force, to let it go.

However, Astorius and their invisible hands don’t allow him the luxury. The hands keep pressing into him, drawing out every painful memory and every hidden secret. Secrets he kept locked away so deep that no one besides himself knew.

“Why are you doing this? Why-“ He falls silent at the soft sigh and the words that follow.

“Because even now, with all that he has done to you and this galaxy, you wish nothing but happiness for him. For the man underneath the suit,” Obi-Wan takes a moment to compose himself, trying to find his voice.

“My friend is dead. Vader is what remains,” His voice was hollow as he spoke, the words flat and monotone, as if he had been reciting it. Astorius sighs sadly, a bittersweet edge to it that breaks him more.

“You do not truly believe that, my child. You forget that I can feel everything you do. I can sense that you believe there is still good in him, that the man you love is still within the suit somewhere,”

The fight had been drained from the former Jedi at the words as he slumps in defeat, pressing further into the invisible hands holding him.

“More importantly, I can feel how even though your heart aches for him, it aches more for him to be happy. You want his suffering to end. You want to undo what has been done in the galaxy, and for him to have a lifetime free of turmoil,” Obi-Wan swallows thickly as he gives a small nod, afraid of speaking. There was a pregnant pause that made his skin tingle with anticipation, the star glowing brighter in his hand. “What would you be willing to do to ensure this happens?” It was immediate.

“Anything,” Obi-Wan exhaled. “Absolutely anything,”

“A dangerous vow,” The voice answered softly, something somber about it. One of their free hands moves to his cheek, rubbing away the tear streaks, much like a parent would. The hand then travels to his head, pausing before speaking up again. “Interesting. Would you be willing to give up your life for this? Would you trade yours away to ensure he receives a lifetime of happiness?” Obi-Wan went silent, already knowing the answer as he gave a small nod.

“If that is what it would take for him to find peace,” He whispered. “Then, yes. I would trade my life to ensure this happens,”

As soon as he uttered the words, the force shifted around him harshly, like a storm brewing in the sky. He gasped as the entity slowly became more visible, their glowing eyes shining through the whirlwind of energy spinning around them.

“Your wish is my command, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” The entity said, their hands touching his cheeks again, rubbing away the fresh tear streaks. Like the glowing eyes, the hands became visible as well, their skin a radiant gold. “I am deeply sorry for all the pain you have endured in this life, my child. May you never again have to face such hardship and turmoil,”

With that, Obi-Wan Kenobi’s consciousness went dark, disappearing into the force.

Across the galaxy, in his meditation chamber, Vader sensed the world stopping around him. Even with a shattered bond that was long gone, he vividly felt the way Obi-Wan’s essence seemed to vanish. An anguished gasp leaves his lips, fresh tears searing his eyes as he leans down, a choked sob escaping.

“Obi-Wan,” He rasps out, his mechanical hand pressing into his chest, emptiness settling into him as an all-consuming void grows. “No,” He repeats to himself, clawing at his scarred skin as everything around him starts to rattle and shake, The overwhelming sorrow and pain he feels is short-lived, as everything in the universe goes dark.

-

Anakin wakes with a groan, grimacing as rays from the sunlight shine on his face. He shifts, burrowing his face into the warm body beside him, blinking awake at the soft giggle.

“I would have thought that you would be used to waking up from sunlight, Ani,” Padme joked, her fingers going through his curls slowly. “You slept later than usual today. I’m glad. You’ve been working hard at the temple these last few weeks,”

Anakin isn’t sure why he feels this groggy, or why his head is hurting so early. He blinks, trying to come to his senses. Even the force feels different, but he can’t understand why.

“I always sleep well when I have an angel beside me,” He smiles at her and her kind eyes, but his smile dims slightly the longer he looks at her. The longer he looks at her beauty, the more unsettled he feels in his gut. There is a sensation of unease that gradually increases, his mind telling him something was amis. 

“Always a sweet talker,” She smiles at him, leaning to give a lingering kiss to his forehead. “You could almost be a senator, Anakin,” Padme teases, pulling away as she gets out of bed and ready for the day. “I hate you have to go back to the temple today. I enjoyed keeping you to myself for an entire week,”

“Master Qui-Gon will be expecting me no later than noon,” Anakin snorted, still feeling disoriented. “You know how he can be,” Padme gives him a small smile.

“I am grateful for his understanding, however. Without him, we would have needed to keep our relationship hidden.” Anakin blinks the fogginess away, the cloud clearing just slightly.

“Yeah,” He agreed, giving a smile to match hers, unsure why it felt so forced. “Master Qui-Gon was never a fan of the council, which is a good thing,” He admitted, thinking about how much bloodshed had been avoided for that very reason.

“He’s such a lovely man,” She smiled. “Be sure to tell him my regards when you see him today, Ani. And remind him that he’s always welcome to visit us for dinner. He’s such an evasive man when I try to tell him,”

His smile felt more and more forced by the minute, but he nodded along, leaning down to kiss her cheek when she was done.

“I’ll remind him, Angel. You know how he can be,” He offered instead, taking a step back from her to change his Jedi robes. 

He couldn’t understand why it felt like such a relief to leave. Guilt hit him at his stray thoughts, but he shook it off and tried to release it into the force.

A force that felt just as wrong.

His dour mood was detected almost as soon as he entered the temple, with Qui-Gon waiting outside his room, his arms crossed.

“You seem troubled by something, Anakin. Is everything alright?” Anakin hastily opens the door and lets the man in, nearly tripping over his own feet. “Have you been meditating enough? I told you what can happen if you skip too many,” Fondly rolling his eyes, the younger Jedi leads them into the open area.

“I meditated last night. I think,” Anakin adds on, trying to clear the fog that had yet to recede. “Actually, yesterday is a little blurry in general,”

“Blurry?” The Jedi Master regards him, steeping his hands together as he ponders this information. “That’s quite unusual for you, my Padawan.” Qui-Gon stops and corrects himself. “Former Padawan.” He gives him an apologetic smile. “Did you have dreams last night?” Anakin considers the question and nods after deliberating on it.

“Perhaps that’s what it is,” He mumbles. “I can’t recall specific details about my dreams last night, but they felt…odd. Different than usual,” He admits, making his former master give a deep hum. “The dream felt surreal, though, Master Qui-Gon. Like it was happening. It felt so strange,”

“And yet, you cannot remember it,” His former master nodded along, looking more understanding. “That can happen to even the wisest Jedi, Anakin. I have experienced strange dreams before, even nightmares. Master Yoda and the council might have a distaste for them, but having those negative emotions is normal, and it’s quite normal for them to bleed into our dreams,”

“What isn’t normal is to let your emotions control you,” He recites with ease, earning a fond smile in the process. He returns it, which is less forced than the one he gave Padme earlier. “Thank you, Master. You have always been a great help, even when I don’t know how to ask for it,” The older Jedi chuckles, smiling more.

“I wonder where you got it from,” The man gives him a playful wink, and for the first time today, Anakin feels at ease. “Now, I want you to remember that dreams can be important,” His Master reminds him, crossing his arms. “Sometimes, our dreams can be a sign from the force itself, for things that are yet to come, or for things we need to do,” Anakin considers this as he listens more, recalling the few visions he occasionally had.

Last night felt different, though. The force had felt strangely familiar in his obscure, yet surreal dream. It was like a puzzle piece slotting into place, connecting every fiber of the universe together. 

And now, it was as if that piece was missing, stolen straight from the center.

Instead of dwelling on it more, he forces the strange thoughts and emotions away, feeding them into the force as he tries to let it go.

“Padme wanted me to extend a dinner invitation to you,” Anakin began, wanting to change the conversation and forget about his dream. “I told her I would, but that you would likely be too busy,” He gave his former master a friendly smirk, which caused the older Jedi to laugh deeply.

“You know me so well, my former apprentice,” Qui-Gon said, soon sighing softly. “Please express my apologies to her, but I have previous engagements tonight,” Anakin hummed along, nodding.

“I’ll tell her you had a meeting with Master Dooku,” Anakin nodded. “She doesn’t understand that you’re not one to have family dinners,” The younger chuckled, thinking of the first time he tried to broach the subject with her.

“Your wife means well,” Qui-Gon snorted softly. “But I fear she believes me to be lonely. I appreciate her kindness, however.” Anakin smirked, shooting his former master a teasing look.

“I know you’re not lonely, Qui-Gon,” Anakin leaned back, smirking even more. “Not when you have Master Tahl nearby,” He said, chuckling at the mock glare the older man sent him. “You both enjoy your countless books. Do you have a date in the library tonight?” At the pink dusting his former Master’s cheeks, Anakin nearly choked on a laugh.

“Oh shush,” Qui-Gon fondly rolled his eyes, his lips turned upwards in amusement. “We are meeting tonight to go over some reading material. She wants to discuss her research on different meditation techniques.” With his eyebrows raised, Anakin shook his head.

“That doesn’t sound boring at all,” The younger chuckled, giving the man a warm smile. “I hope you enjoy your time, Qui-Gon. You deserve it,” His friend gave him a smile in return as well.

“And so do you, Anakin. I could not have asked for a better Padawan,” Despite the high praise, the words cause his heart to seize painfully, looking into blue eyes that aren’t quite right.

As he looks at them, he gets a flash of the silver color that should be blended into the blue. For a split second, he can see kind, blue-gray eyes looking back at him. The warmth behind them makes everything feel right for once, almost like everything is as it should be.

But when he blinks and the image vanishes, Anakin sucks in a breath, suddenly feeling light-headed. His vision swims, but Qui-Gon is at his side in seconds, touching his forehead carefully.

“Anakin,” The Jedi Master checks him over, concerned eyes scanning his face, looking for a hint as to what was wrong. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, uh…” He sits up, blinking away the fogginess again. “I’ve had a headache all day,” Anakin confesses. “I woke up with one. I think it was just passing through again,” Qui-Gon watches him, looking for any signs of a lie, but finds none.

“You used to get headaches often when you were younger,” The older man mumbles, looking thoughtful. “It usually had to do with the way you experienced the force,”

“Didn’t you used to make me tea to help with the headaches?” He couldn’t help but tease, but it felt wrong again, and his heart was aching for a reason he couldn’t name.

“Because you thought caf would help more,” The man shook his head. “I had to correct the behavior while I still had the opportunity,” Anakin forces himself to laugh, hoping that Qui-Gon doesn’t notice his unease. “I will make some tea for us. Felucia is home to some of the best medicinal teas in the galaxy,” Anakin listens to the words as he closes his eyes, resting against the sofa as his former master makes the tea.

“Felucia has some of the richest soils and herbs since it’s been uninhabited by people for centuries,” Qui spoke softly from his location in the small kitchen. “I wish I had known about it sooner. It would have come in handy for when my Padawan decided to be reckless,” Anakin smirks faintly, humming.

“I tried to leave the negotiations to you, my former Master. You were more adept at charming people than I could ever hope to be. Instead, I had to rely on my strength,” The smirk on his lips slowly disappears as a phrase enters his mind, almost like a whisper.

The Negotiator and the Hero With No Fear.

Almost as soon as the thought entered, it vanished, disappearing like dust in the wind.

“Anakin?” Qui-Gon stood in front of him, holding out the steaming mug.

Anakin slowly takes the mug as he fights off the tears that want to sting his eyes.

All he can think about is the fact that Qui-Gon’s eye color still looks wrong, and he doesn’t understand why it bothers him so much.

“Thank you,” He whispers and then takes a sip to distract himself, hoping the hot drink will dull the pain in his chest.

Even the tea tastes wrong.

-

The force circles around him, its presence comforting, yet oppressing. It is light and dark merged into one, the perfect balance of life and death.

He can sense something inside the force, something that doesn’t belong.

He wants to reach out and pull it close to him, to keep the unusual signature safe in his arms.

Anakin blindly reaches forward, trying to locate the signature that is calling out to him, calling to his very soul.

When he looks down, his arms are not his own anymore. Metal and cybernetics are there instead, their actions just as desperate as his flesh fingers had been.

“Master,” He cries out, voice alien to his ears. He can hear a machine breathing in time with him, but he pays it no mind as he turns more desperate. “Master,” He pleads, a sob wracking through his body. “No…come back. Don’t leave me-“

-

Anakin wakes with a jolt, a silent cry passing his lips as he sits up, his curls matted to his forehead. His heart is beating erratically in his chest, each pump making him feel more and more nauseous as his headache returns from yesterday.

Turning, he sighs in relief as he spots Padme, his wife unperturbed and still asleep. Her expression is peaceful, all of her stress vanishing into her carefree slumber. Anakin leans on his elbows as he watches her, a sliver of jealousy passing through him.

For as long as he can remember, sleep has never come easy to him, even lying beside Padme.

“Ani, what are you doing?” Padme yawns softly, blinking away her grogginess as she looks at the Jedi. “What’s wrong?” She questions immediately, noticing the dark circles under her husband’s eyes and the hard lines on his face.

“I just had a nightmare is all,” Anakin answers, turning around to look at the ceiling, heart still hammering in his chest. “I wish I could sleep as well as you do, Angel.” She hums softly, looking at him with a small frown.

“You haven’t had a nightmare in a long time. Your screaming used to wake me up,” She carefully touches his forearm, looking more concerned. “You told me before that the force affects the way you dream. That it makes everything you experience more vivid. Do you want to talk about the dream, Ani?” Anakin swallows hard as he listens to his wife’s words, unsure if he wants to tell her or not.

He doesn’t understand why, but her touch makes him feel even worse. Her touch makes his skin crawl, his body tensing underneath her fingertips. It feels so wrong that it makes him want to flee.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Anakin confesses, shifting so her hand isn’t touching him anymore. He looks at her, trying to explain what he told Qui-Gon the previous day. “Usually my dreams are vivid, but lately, I’ve had trouble understanding them. They don’t feel the same,” He watches her, watches the way she tilts her head and listens.

She was very good at that.

“For the past few nights, I’ve had dreams that I can’t explain after I wake up. The only thing I can remember from this one is that I was looking for something that was lost,” Anakin rubs his forehead, the ache returning full force. “I’m sure that Master Qui-Gon will have some advice for me today,” Padme offers him a small smile, her eyes still cloudy with sleep.

“That man is always full of advice,” She giggles, sinking back into the bed. “I’m sorry about your dreams, Ani. If you remember more of it, just know that I am willing to listen if you need it,” Anakin offers a true smile as he gently places his hand on her hair, stroking it softly.

“I know,” He promises, hoping she doesn’t notice how fast he retracts his hand, or how quickly he makes his escape to the temple.

The guilt claws at him viciously, a heavy feeling weighing in the pit of his stomach.

Anakin can’t begin to understand why everything feels so wrong around him, why the touch of his wife makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. As her husband, he’s meant to give her this attention, to shower her with praises and touches.

Yet, the thought makes his throat close with a foreign sensation of dread, and for another unknown reason, his heart seizes painfully in his chest. He closes his eyes in despair as he bites his lips hard, hating the ugly thoughts that swarm in his head. He hates how everything, even the force, feels wrong somehow.

Despite the way his dreams make his chest ache, they feel real and sadly, they feel right. That thought alone makes his eyes sting with tears, another painful ache forming in his chest.

“The only thing I can remember from this one is that I was looking for something that was lost,” Anakin presses his hand against his chest, the ache only growing as he wonders what exactly he lost in his dreams.

Whatever it was, he was sure that Master Qui-Gon would be eager to listen and eager to help.

-

“You had strange dreams again?” Qui-Gon asked when Anakin explained his dour mood. “How unusual. Your meditation yesterday was impeccable..” The man mumbled to himself, moving to sit across from his former Padawan.

“The dreams remind me of the visions I occasionally have,” He confessed, rubbing his temple in frustration. “Yet, they’re different somehow. I’ve never had a vision I couldn’t understand after I woke up. They’re too vivid to forget,” The Jedi master nods along, rubbing his bottom lip in thought.

“And you say the force feels different in your dreams?” Based on the tone, Anakin could tell that this was what Qui-Gon found the most interesting. He nods at the inquiry, unsure of how to describe the force in his dreams.

“In my dream, it felt like there was something within the force I was trying to reach, but I can’t remember what it was. It felt extremely important. It felt…” Anakin trails off, digging his fingernails into his palm. “It felt like my soul was reaching out to it.”

“Fascinating,” Qui-Gon breathes out. “I’ve never read about anything like this happening. Occasionally, our force signatures may seek out other force sensitives that we’re close to,” He explained. “But never in our dreams, and never to the force itself.” Anakin wants to huff and cross his arms.

“The privilege of being the chosen one,” He sighs, wanting to shake his head. “Do you think that has anything to do with my dreams?” Anakin asks seriously, wondering if his former Master had similar thinking.

“It had crossed my mind, yes,” Qui-Gon admits, sitting straighter as he rubs his beard in thought. “Just because you fulfilled the prophecy doesn’t mean your work is done yet. As the chosen one and a child born from the force, you have more of a connection than anyone else. It could also mean that the force has more in store for you, but it is trying to show you the next steps you need to take.”

As Qui-Gon continues to talk, all Anakin can do is stare at the way the man rubs his beard, a familiar ache piercing his chest. If he closes his eyes, he can see the beard shift, changing to a more ginger color.

He wants to reach out and feel the softness it inspires within him; he wants to commit it to memory and never forget it again.

“kin?” A voice speaks out, drawing him from his thoughts. “Anakin?” Blinking, the younger Jedi turns to look at the other man, hating the concern he sees in the blue eyes as the images from before quickly fade away. “Perhaps I need to brew you some more tea. It’s not like you to become so distracted.” There was no scolding this time, just simple concern.

“I’m sorry,” He can’t help but apologize anyway, deflating a little. “I think I’m more tired than I realized. I haven’t been sleeping well because of these dreams.” Qui-Gon nods in understanding, as patient as always.

“I don’t fault you for anything, my former Padawan. I can’t begin to imagine what your dreams are like, and I don’t think I would want to.” Anakin smiles softly at the gentle tease, thankful for the gentle banter that always cheers him up. “Now then, would you like some tea from Alderaan? This particular blend is meant to help center ourselves and our minds.” Taking a breath, Anakin nods.

“I would appreciate a cup, Master Qui-Gon.”

With the cup in his hands later, Anakin wishes it had a spoonful of Coruscant honey mixed in, unsure why he has such an obscure craving.

“Trust me, Anakin. A small amount of honey will do wonders for any tea,”

Anakin’s head starts to pound again as the unfamiliar words cascade through his mind like water. He wants to hold onto the words and the voice, but it slips quickly through his fingers and vanishes until only the ache remains.

All he can do is take a sip of the bitter tea and ignore the pain and emptiness that seems to increase with each passing day.

“Thank you for the tea, Master. I will be sure to brew some for you during our next meeting. I’m sorry you had to brew it for me so much these past few days,” He nods to him, needing to focus on something else and not how wrong the tea tastes.  

“It was of no consequence, my former Padawan. However, you know I can never say no to tea.” The fondness in the blue eyes makes Anakin relax for a moment, happy to forget about his other worries.

-

“You’re up early again, Ani,” Anakin pulls his robe on as he glances at Padme, offering her a small smile. “One would think you’re deliberately avoiding your wife,” Anakin stills at the words as he looks at her more closely now, seeing tension that he hadn’t caught before.

“Angel?” He sits at the edge of the bed, feeling uncertain.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in days, Ani,” Padme confesses, her eyes glimmering with pain.

“I’ve been right here,” He motioned to the other side of the bed, frowning when she laughed sadly, shaking her head. She sat up, rubbing away the wetness from her eyes.

“Physically, you’ve been here.” She conceded, lacing her fingers together, looking less like his wife and more like her senator persona. “Emotionally?” Padme looks at him intently, pursing her lips and shaking her head again. “Emotionally, you’ve been distant.”

“I haven’t meant to be,” Anakin sighs, looking to the floor dejectedly. “I promise, Padme. None of this has been intentional,” The guilt from the other day resurfaces when he realizes that, yes. Some of this was intentional.

But how do you tell your wife, the person that you were meant to love forever, that they felt wrong? That every time they touched, it felt wrong? Anakin couldn’t bear to put such a distraught look on her face.

“My dreams have been bothering me more,” Anakin decides to be partially truthful. “Master Qui-Gon has been helping me understand what my dreams mean, and why they feel so unusual. They’re affecting me more than I want to admit.” Padme touches his hand, her hand so small in comparison to his.

He raises their hands, laying a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Padme. I should have been more open about what I’m going through. It’s just hard to describe to someone unfamiliar with the force.” From the way she offers a gentle smile, even if it is still marred by pain, Anakin knows she understands somewhat.

“Oh, Anakin,” She sighs, squeezing his hand as she pulls away slowly. “You make it hard to stay upset with you,” There was still sadness behind her eyes, and Anakin feared the other meaning behind it.

Padme was always too insightful for her own good, and she often knew more than she should. It was unnerving at times.

“Just try to come back to me, please?”  

Anakin doesn’t know why, but those words make him swallow hard.

“I always do,” He says with a charming smile.

He despises how flat the words sound on his lips, and how he can’t bring himself to mean them right now.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin breathes into the force once he has left the apartment, pressing his head into his trembling hand.

He’s supposed to love Padme with every fiber of his being, and yet, why does she feel so inconsequential? Why does this growing emptiness in his chest feel more important than the entire galaxy?

-

“Thank you for agreeing to help, Master Jinn, Master Skywalker,” Adi Gallia smiled pleasantly at the two, her eyes bright with relief. “Since Master Drallig is accompanying the younglings to Ilum, we are limited on our lightsaber instructors,”

“We are happy to provide assistance, Master Gallia,” Qui-Gon smiled, bowing in respect. “Did my former master decline?” He questioned, a smirk on his face that caused Adi to laugh softly.

“While Master Dooku is an exceptional duelist, he is not the best with younglings,” Both Anakin and Qui-Gon snorted at her words, the duo nodding in agreement. “I would rather we avoid making the youngest cry again,”

“Again?” Anakin asked, causing Gallia to wince and glance at Qui-Gon sheepishly.

“I believe his words were ‘Even an uncivilized buffoon could master Form One at this age’ and other criticisms along those lines,” Qui-Gon coughed into his hand, trying to stifle the laugh that wanted to escape. Sensing this, Anakin nodded along to the words, fighting off a smirk as well. 

“If there’s one thing that hasn’t aged well, that would be Master Dooku’s patience,” Anakin sighed fondly, glancing at his former master with a small smirk. “I think Master Qui-Gon and I used up the last of it,”

“Very true, my former apprentice,” Qui-Gon nodded seriously. “I think you gave him over half of his gray hairs,” Anakin gasped in mock shock, placing a hand on his chest. “No dramatics, Anakin. You know I am correct,” The younger merely chuckled.

“Come now, my former Master. You are at as much fault as I am,” He teased. Adi shook her head, fondly rolling her eyes.

“If you two are done bickering and making fun of Master Dooku’s age,” She grinned at them in good nature. “You have a class to teach,”

While Anakin thought it would be a piece of cake, something twisted uncomfortably in his stomach when he held a training saber in front of the younglings with Qui-Gon. When he looked at the young children in the room, an image of their crumpled bodies on the floor slammed into him. Their screams of agony and fear deafened the entire temple as the force twisted around him.

He felt like he was losing his mind with each swing, each block. It took all of his willpower to stop him from fleeing the room and screaming into the force. He focused on Qui-Gon, letting the man be an anchor as they taught the younglings in unison, their moves in sync.

And yet…

He had a distant feeling that it wasn’t perfect. That there was something, or someone, missing from this. If he closed his eyes and focused, truly focused on his moves and his sparring partner, it wasn’t Qui-Gon who stood beside him. It was someone else who knew his every move and matched him perfectly, like a puzzle slotting into place.

He couldn’t make it out, but there was another presence instead, and it shone like the brightest sun in the galaxy, warm and perfect. Anakin wanted to sink into it and let it wrap around him like a familiar cloak.

It was painfully familiar, yet so different from anything he could remember experiencing. He yearned for it more than he had ever yearned in his life.

However, similar to all of his stray thoughts, it’s fleeting, disappearing from his mind all too quickly.

Once more, he’s left with a sense of dread. Not for the first time, he’s left wondering why despite everything, Qui-Gon feels just as wrong as Padme does, and why he would rather have this presence than either one of them.

“You were a great instructor today, Anakin,” The older Jedi smiles at him when the younglings leave to start their next lesson for the day. “I am proud. It is no easy feat to teach young ones like you just did,” Thanking the stars above for the distraction, Anakin shrugged.

“You were a help, Master. I followed your advice and the teachings you taught me when I was their age.” His smile felt strained, but luckily, the man didn’t notice. “Was that the only class today, or do we have more?”

“That’s it for the day,” Qui-Gon informed, hands clasped. “We have one lesson to give tomorrow as well. This one will be for Padawan learners, instead,” Anakin relaxed a little at that, a more genuine smile spreading across his face,

“I think we’re better suited for the Padawan learners instead of small younglings. I can’t say I blame Master Dooku for his lack of patience,” Qui-Gon laughed softly, thinking of his former master with fondness.

“We mustn’t say anything around him. We wouldn’t want to damage his pride,”

The smile on his face was a little less forced as they went their separate ways.

The smile vanished when he passed by a room that made him linger, looking at it with a tilt of his head and a pounding heart. Closing his eyes, he touched the door and felt the emptiness that was calling out to him, begging him to fill it. The feeling of loss hit him like a blaster shot, sudden and overwhelming as he nearly fell to his knees.

Flinching harshly, he quickly jerked away while clutching his hand to his chest, tears burning his eyes. The door was saturated with loss and grief, and Anakin couldn’t stand another minute of it. He forces himself to turn around and walk away, afraid to linger a moment longer.

He doesn’t return to Padme that night, slinking away instead to his barely used room in the temple. Once he is in his room, he sits on the edge of his bed and cries into his hands, hating the horrible ache that only seems to spread more and more each day.

All he can think about is the room across the temple that is calling to him, singing a song of loss that pierces through him. It brings him back to his dreams, where he can remember nothing except pain and loss.

Not for the first time, he wonders what precious thing he has lost.

-

“Come back to me,” He is on his knees, his hands digging into the sand as it whirls around him. “Please,” His head is bowed as tears quickly slide down his cheeks, sob after sob escaping his lips. One hand reaches forward into the whirling force, uncaring of the raging storm. Anakin tries to find him, trying to grab the other half of his soul.

He brushes against something warm and perfect, relief and happiness settling into him immediately. His heart soars as the force brims with pure, unadulterated joy as the signature holds his hand in return, wrapping around him in an act of familiarity. He gives a watery smile and raspy laugh, eyes fluttering shut as peace settles around him. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, all feels right in the galaxy.

This relief was short-lived, a heartbroken gasp escaping. His smile quickly morphs, sobbing as the presence begins to gradually vanish from his grasp.

“No!” He cries, chest heaving with sobs as the other signature becomes fainter, starting to leave him again. “Master, please!” He begs, voice breaking as it warps into an ominous mechanical sound, his body trembling. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Anakin’s voice cracks again, a haunting mix of machine and man. Pain and grief crash into him, causing his heart to seize with terror, the fear moving something inside of him.

The fear of losing this man for good; of watching him disappear into the force is too much to bear. He struggles, trying to hold on tighter as a wave of desperation settles in. In his desperation, he begins to utter something forgotten, the force quivering around him.

“Obi-“  As quickly as the name comes to his lips, it’s just as quick to vanish as he is roughly tossed aside by the raging sandstorm that is the force.

It causes Anakin to wake with a harsh gasp. The Jedi sits up in a flurry as his heart pounds erratically, his hands shaking while tears drip on the tangled bed sheets. There is a name on his tongue that he desperately wants to speak, but the more he becomes aware of his surroundings, the quicker the name slips away until nothing is left.

All that is left is a yearning so strong that it makes him hunch over and silently cry into his hands, this missing part of him tearing him apart all over again.

“What is happening to me?” He whispers into the force, praying that it will give him an answer, that it will take pity on him. “Why are you doing this?” Unsurprisingly, there is no answer.

Then again, why would the force answer him when it feels just as wrong as everything else around him?

-

Before Anakin finishes getting ready for the day, his comm goes off and Padme appears on the screen looking upset. He wants to fidget at the look, not needing to read the force to know something was wrong.

“No call last night, Anakin. Nothing to let me know that you weren’t coming home,” She doesn’t sound angry. Instead, she sounds sad. Her anguish should bother him more than it does, but it’s hard to force his feelings on this matter anymore.

“I’m sorry, Padme,” Anakin says instead, nearly flinching at the looks she gives him.

“I want an explanation, Anakin. ” Her tone is full of hurt and he winces this time, unsure how he can confess everything to her. “This isn’t like you,”

“I don’t know what to say, Padme,” Anakin sighed heavily, sitting on the edge of his bed, still looking at the hologram. “For weeks now, my dreams have gotten worse, but that’s not all there is,” He wishes it were, but he knows deep down it was more than that.

“Then tell me!” She orders, looking every bit determined. It almost makes him hate what he needs to say, what he needs to finally confess.

“Have you ever woken up in a world where nothing feels right anymore? That everything around you is wrong somehow?”

Her pained gasp rings through the room, the hurt dripping off of her.

“How can you say that, Ani?” She whispers, choking back a sob as she presses her hand to her wobbling lips. Her pain makes his guilt grow and he shifts, unsure how he can save this.

And unsure if he wants to.

“For the longest time, everything has felt wrong around me, even…this,” He motions back and forth between them, unable to look into the hologram and see the tears he knows are falling now. “Nothing feels as it should be, and I can’t help it. I can’t stop feeling like this, even though I wish I could,”

He does love her, but the ache in his chest is always a stark reminder that he lost something far more important than her. His love for her feels diluted, like it was a teenage love meant to fizzle out with time, one meant to last a few months or a year at the most.

The love he feels for her reminds him more of a close friendship rather than a love meant to last a lifetime. He doesn’t love her like a husband should love his wife, and that realization makes the guilt come back, hating the pain this will cause.

“I’m sorry, Padme.” He says again, slumping. “You can’t understand this,” He takes his hand and presses it to his chest, sighing. “The force has always made sense to me, but ever since I first woke up a few weeks ago, it’s like the force has changed somehow.” Anakin takes another breath, biting his lips as he debates something.

“Then, there are times where I feel a sense of loss so overwhelming that it agonizes me,” Anakin mumbles, finally looking into the hologram. “I feel like I’ve lost something…no, someone, so important that it kills me. It’s like half of my heart has been ripped away.” So often, he had reached out with his force signature to locate something that wasn’t there. It killed him every time it came back empty, unable to locate its missing half.  

Her eyes harden and Anakin waits for the words he knows are about to come.

Through her tears, she stands straight, looking like the perfect, impenetrable senator.

“I will have my lawyers write up the divorce papers,” Anakin doesn’t understand why, but relief hits him at the words, a soft sigh escaping.

“I understand,” He hears her sniffle, afraid of looking into her eyes. “I just want you to know I am sorry, Padme. I never met to hurt you,” And it was true. It had never been his intention, but after trying to avoid her for weeks and barely touching her, it was inevitable. “You never did anything wrong; I promise. You deserved better than this,” He looks up then and meets her sad smile.

“Goodbye, Ani.”

He doesn’t cry when the transmission ends. Instead,  he gives a small, relieved sigh.

-

“I can see why Master Dooku dislikes teaching the younglings after yesterday,” Anakin mumbled, rubbing at his neck slowly, hoping that his former master wouldn’t notice the fatigue clinging to him.

He was feeling slightly better after talking with Padme, though, even if the conversation ended poorly. In a way, it had ended well for him. He wanted to be surprised at his sudden relief in their upcoming divorce, but he couldn’t muster the energy for it.

“I believe the Padawan learners will be easier to manage,” Qui-Gon says with a small smirk. “While the younglings are bright and brimming with the force, it takes a lot of patience to deal with them.”

“At least we can say we didn’t make anyone cry yesterday,” Anakin jokes. At Qui-Gon’s silence, the younger Jedi turns to look at him, tensing at the piercing gaze. “Master?”

“You look like you haven’t slept,” Qui-Gon stated, the piercing gaze softening as he came closer. “Have your dreams been bothering you more?” Anakin swallows hard, hating and appreciating how observant the older man could be. He gives a tired sigh, nodding.

“Last night was the worst one yet,” He confessed, leaning into the comforting hand that landed on his shoulder, the squeeze helping to ground him. “Can we do a joint meditation after we finish the lesson?” Anakin asked, hoping Qui-Gon wouldn’t be too busy.

“Of course,” The older Jedi promised, a worried gleam in his eyes. “Perhaps a joint meditation will help us uncover the meaning of your bizarre dreams.” Anakin smiles in gratitude, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“And maybe we can have some tea too,” Qui-Gon snorts, the look of concern slowly dissipating.

“I believe you’re developing a love for it that will soon match my own,”

For some unknown reason, Anakin has a strange feeling that his love of tea has nothing to do with Qui-Gon.

-

Teaching the Padawan learners comes naturally to Anakin. Instead of young children stumbling through beginners’ stances, the teens move more gracefully, their hold on the training sabers hardly wavering.

A few are too tense with their postures, so he corrects them and guides them through a more complex set of moves, smiling when they perform the actions nearly perfectly.

“Her Jar'Kai is impressive for someone her age. She’s extremely fluent and agile,” Turning to gaze toward the direction his former Master had motioned to, Anakin’s breath hitched as he watched the young togruta, something about her painfully familiar.

Legs moving on their own accord, Anakin finds himself watching the padawan, keenly inspecting her forms.

“Good,” He praises, looking for a fault in her movements. “Remember to keep track of the placement of your feet,” Anakin began. “And the position of your legs. While your current stance is effective, it has a few blind spots that could leave you more vulnerable.” Taking the words to heart, she shifts her right leg closer to her and nods, realizing more when she starts another round of movements.

“My stance was too wide,” She clarifies. “Had I been in a duel, or even against a more experienced opponent, they would have taken advantage of that,” She takes note of the placement more, shifting through her usual poses with ease. “Even if they’re only a little closer to me now, it doesn’t leave me as vulnerable.” Anakin can’t help but smile at her, a foreign sensation fluttering in his chest.

He's not sure why, but he already cares about this Padawan. While many inside the room were impressive, there was a spark inside of the girl that he hadn’t seen in anyone else yet. It was a spark that he wanted to preserve and protect, to help ignite.

The rest of the lesson flies by, and at the end of it, Anakin is mildly disappointed.

“It seems as if you connected with that young togruta,” Qui-Gon has a pleased smile on his face, eyes crinkled with warmth as he folds his arms together. “I know you’ll make an excellent master to a Padawan, should you ever decide you want to.” Anakin gives him a small, appreciative smile, eyes darting back to the young togruta, who was talking with one of her friends.

“She has a lot of untapped potential,” Anakin remarked, vaguely aware of the small chuckle that came from Qui-Gon.

“If memory serves, I believe her name is Ahsoka. Master Dooku mentioned her a few times, but I was glad to see her flawless forms in person myself-“ Anakin doesn’t pay him attention, blinking at her name as it rings a bell.

Ahsoka…

The name strikes something within him, making him repeat the word in his head over and over. It sounds so familiar that a painful ache in his chest forms, one that leaves him breathless as if all the air has been sucked out of him.

He isn’t sure why he feels such an affinity for her after only meeting her today. Before Anakin can truly begin to question it, she exclaims in an excited tone.

“Master!” Something else in him snaps as he turns in her direction, lips moving immediately.

“Yeah, snips?” The name tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop himself, and he freezes as the words make his entire body go cold, his breath catching low in his throat as she freezes too. Her eyes have a glazed look as she blinks, trying to focus.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Master Skywalker,” Ahsoka makes no mention of the nickname, rubbing her head like Anakin had been doing for the past few weeks. “I was talking to Master Plo, my Master.”

And sure enough, Master Plo-Koon was standing at the threshold of the room. There was amusement from his end of the force as he entered, moving closer to Ahsoka.

The image is wrong. Anakin feels his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach, a lump forming in the back of his throat. He’s never had much interaction with the other Jedi Master, but in this moment, he hates him.

As soon as Anakin realizes his feelings, he tosses them into the force, afraid of dwelling on it.

“Thank you for the enlightening lesson, Master Jinn, Master Skywalker,” Ahsoka bowed her head. “I appreciate your advice about my position in the Jar’Kai form,” Anakin forces himself to swallow and nods in return, his stomach churning with unease.

“It was our pleasure, Ahsoka. You have a gift,” His heart hurts at her wide smile, especially when Qui-Gon looks at him with an unreadable expression, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. “Keep practicing your Jar’Kai, and you will have it flawless in no time,”

As the Togruta starts to leave with Master Plo-Koon, she hesitates and then turns back to him, the same dazed expression in her eyes from before.

“See you, Skyguy,” Ahsoka mumbles, stumbling out of the room with her Master.

Everything stops as the words pierce his heart, the feeling of loss slamming into him as his knees buckle. Qui-Gon is there, catching him before he can hit the ground. He vaguely hears the man call his name in worry, but all he can envision is Ahsoka and another figure he can’t fully recognize. They look achingly familiar, and he nearly sobs with need.

As he succumbs to the darkness, all he can think about is that he wishes it was the figure beside Ahsoka who was holding him instead.

“Obi-“ Anakin whispers inaudibly, crying out for someone as everything goes dark.

-

When Anakin comes to, he groans to himself at his sudden headache, which is worse than ever before.

“Good, you’re awake.” Anakin tilts his head to look at the concerned gaze of Qui-Gon Jinn, wincing at how often he’s put that look on the man’s face the past few weeks. “I would have taken you to Master Che, but I think this matter is something they will be unable to help with,” The younger nearly flinches at the words as he pushes himself up, nodding carefully.

“I don’t think a mind healer will be able to help with this either,” He admitted, disheartened. “And I wouldn’t want them to,” Anakin adds, twitching in discomfort at the idea of someone messing with his mind. “What happened?” He asked, trying to recall why he had passed out.

“I don’t know yet,” Qui-Gon mused, stroking his beard in thought. “You passed out after the lesson was over,” The older Jedi watches him. “I’m unsure if it was due to outside factors, or because you haven’t been sleeping well in weeks,”

Anakin considered the latter, knowing he was growing more exhausted with each passing day.

“Can you tell me the last thing you remember before you lost consciousness?” At the inquiry, he sits up more and breathes in and out, trying to remember everything.

“I remember talking to Ahsoka,” He admitted. “And that her Master was picking her up from the lesson,” Anakin’s face pinches at that, which Qui-Gon was quick to catch onto.

“Interesting,” He opened his eyes to look at his former Master, who seemed bemused. “Is there a reason you dislike Master Plo-Koon?” Caught off guard at the question, Anakin shook his head.

“I don’t dislike Master Plo-Koon,” He was quick to defend. “Really. I haven’t interacted enough with him to have any sort of opinion,” Qui-Gon folds his arms together and narrows his eyes, looking suspicious.

“Then why did I feel disdain for him in your force signature earlier?” On instinct, Anakin shakes his head to deny it again. “Even now when I mentioned him and Ahsoka, you looked troubled,”

“Because Ahsoka shouldn’t be his padawan!” Part of Anakin snaps at that, his body trembling. “It…doesn’t feel right,” He admitted quietly, looking at his hands as the force seemed to shudder in displeasure. “In the force,” Anakin adds, feeling Qui-Gon’s gaze burning him alive.

“How peculiar,” Qui-Gon mumbles to himself, muttering something Anakin can’t understand. “You say that their bond doesn’t feel right?” Finding the courage to look back at his former Master, Anakin sighs.

“It’s hard to explain, Qui.” He admits. “There’s just something,” He motioned around with his hand. “that doesn’t feel right to me. With almost everything around me.” It took a lot of power to say those words, but he only saw the intrigue grow on his former Master.

“Do you remember what Ahsoka called you, Anakin?” He asked, ignoring what his former Padawan had said. “It’s not a nickname I’ve ever heard before.” Tilting his head for the man to continue, Qui-Gon utters, “Skyguy,”

Just like before, the words cause his breath to stop and everything around him to freeze. Tears prickle his eyes as he sucks in a shuddering breath.

“Skyguy..” He mumbles to himself, hiding his face in his shaking hands as the nickname sinks into him. “It’s so familiar, Qui. Like it’s part of my life that’s somehow not there anymore.”

Qui-Gon merely hums again, rubbing his beard more. Anakin watches the movement, seeing a different face.

“You will always amaze me, Anakin,” Qui-Gon whispered, shaking his head. “I will never understand how you feel or understand the force. Perhaps this is a sign for you, but a sign for what, I can not understand.” Anakin listens, trying not to feel defeated.

It was foolish to think that Qui-Gon would have all the answers for him.

“Do you still want to do a joint meditation,” Qui-Gon asked, eyes full of compassion. “I will try to help you understand as much as I can, but I fear I will not be much help,” A wave of gratitude hits him, and for the first time in hours, he smiles.

“Thank you, Master. Let me make your favorite tea before we begin,” The older Jedi offers a small smile in return, but Anakin can see how strained it is compared to normal. “I suppose there is one good thing about all of this,” Anakin sighs. “At least you get to research more about the force through me,”

He feels a little better when the other Jedi laughs.

-

“Here you go, Master.” Anakin places the two mugs down on the floor beside them. “Thank you for helping me,”

“It is never a problem, Anakin,” Qui-Gon promises, accepting the tea and giving it a small sip. He hums in surprise, putting it down. “An interesting blend. I don’t think I’ve had it before.” Anakin takes a small sip, looking bemused.

“What do you mean, Qui-Gon?” He inquires with a small grin. “It’s black tea from Naboo. It’s your favorite?” His former Master chuckles, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Sapir is my favorite tea, Anakin. Surely you know this?” As he takes another small sip, he misses the way Anakin tenses at his words, his hands nearly going slack. “Although, this is quite good. I can see why you would like it. Did you put a bit of honey into this as well?”

Anakin’s headache returns with a vengeance as he shakily puts the mug down, afraid he will drop it. His heart races in unease, skipping a beat every few moments.

“Black Nabooian tea is one of the finest teas in the galaxy. It’s much better than all the caf you drink, Anakin.”

He rubs his temples as vague memories flash through his mind, leaving his head pounding. He breathes in and out, trying to make sense of the confusion swarming through his head.

“I don’t see you complaining about the caf when we’re on the field, Master.”

“Because caf is easy to produce and distribute. The finer-tasting teas aren’t as easy to do that with. Besides, you love green tea from Alderan, dear one. Or was it Ahsoka who got into it at the temple?”

“Hey! I’ll have you know it was both of us, actually,”

“Was it now? I suppose that means I’ll have to stock up on it more for my two favorite Jedi then, hm?”

“And I’ll be on the lookout for Nabooian Black Tea for my favorite Jedi,”

Warm silver-blue eyes gaze at him, their kindness making him gasp.

“No.” Anakin grips his head, a shaky exhale leaving his lips as he trembles.

If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that his Master’s favorite tea is not Sapir. His Master’s favorite tea is Black Nabooian tea, with a spoonful of honey from Coruscant.

His Master has kind, silver-blue eyes. His Master has a ginger beard. His Master has a crisp accent that always made him relax and smile. His master-

Was not Qui-Gon Jinn.

The fact knocks the breath out of him, the force shaking around him as he dares to look up and find Qui-Gon’s alarmed eyes. He feels the concern, so tangible that it clouds the room.

“My Master’s favorite tea is a black blend from Naboo.” He speaks with conviction, the force shaking with anticipation around them. “He is-“ Another memory strikes him, this one more painful and more harsh than the others.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Anakin. For all of it,” The silver blue gaze was no longer warm, but cold and full of pain, broken beyond measure.

“You didn’t kill Anakin Skywalker, I did.” The haunting machine breathes out, and Anakin wants to scream.

“No,” He shakes his head as more vile things enter his mind.

The massacre of younglings.

The death of countless Jedi Masters.

Fighting on a planet of magma and losing the most important person in his life in the aftermath.

And finally, a sandstorm made of the force, in which his other half has vanished into-

“Anakin!” Qui-Gon’s arms wrap around him tightly, breaking the spell the memories have on him. He opens his eyes, which are overflowing with tears. “Breathe with me. Center yourself.”

“Everything hurts,” Anakin croaks out, head on Qui-Gon’s shoulder as he sobs. “Nothing feels right anymore. Everything feels wrong,” He admits, shuddering as the man holds tighter.

Despite all of these horrid memories flashing through his mind, it’s like a dam has been broken as good and bad memories play out before him. He hides his face in Qui-Gon’s chest as more tears slip past.

“Dear one, please leave the negotiations to me next time.”

“And have you forced to marry the tribe’s princess? No way in Sith Hell, Master.”

“You two are just like an old married couple I’ve seen on the HoloNet dramas,”

“Ahsoka!”

There was laughing to her right, and Anakin shot a glare at one of his men.

“Have something to say, Rex?”

“Uh, not at all, sir. Just that the commander is right.” Anakin huffs, crossing his arms.

“Traitor,” He mumbled in faux annoyance.

Anakin groans, gripping the robes tighter and tighter.

“Qui, I don’t know what to do.” He cries after another vivid memory, his head pounding. The older Jedi touches his matted curls, hesitation in his voice despite his soft touch.

“Don’t fight it, Anakin,” Surprised at the words, he gazes into intelligent eyes, which regard him with compassion and kindness. “You haven’t been yourself for weeks, and while you have done a good job of pushing through it, you are wearing yourself thin.”

Qui-Gon takes a breath, looking at him like it’s the first time they’ve ever met.

“Focus on these visions you’re receiving. Focus on what these feelings invoke in you, and let it guide you from there.” The older Jedi touches his forearm. “You are a wonder in the force, Anakin. If you feel something this strongly, follow it.”

“You don’t think I’m losing my mind?” Qui-Gon snorts at the blunt question, but he hesitates and shakes his head.

“Your force signature has felt different ever since you first told me about your bizarre dream,” Qui-Gon admits. “I thought it was due to your lack of restful sleep, but I don’t think that is the sole reason now.” The older Jedi sends him a reassuring smile, squeezing his forearm again. “Whatever is happening, the force will guide you through it,”

Anakin takes the words to heart, thankful for how understanding the older Jedi is. Even if this man was not his master, he was still someone he would always respect.

“Thank you, Qui,” With a sigh, Anakin shuts his eyes, letting the ache in his chest guide him, just as Qui-Gon had told him to. He follows it until there is nothing else but himself and the force.

When he opens his eyes, he comes face to face with the raging sandstorm from his dreams. Its power is raw and chaotic, swarming more the closer he comes.

“You took something from me,” He looks down at his hands, one made of flesh, the other made of machine. “Something precious,” Despite his voice being a mix of machine and man, Anakin carries on, not letting it hinder him. “I want it back,”

He stops for a moment, shaking his head. “I want him back,” Anakin corrects, glaring at the storm.

There is no answer, just the roaring power of the force as it tries to push him away.

Anakin does not budge.

“I want my master back,” Anakin begs, frustrated tears burning his eyes as he pushes his hand into the sandstorm, praying he will grab the warm hand like he did in his dreams. “I want…”

An image appears before him, but this time, he doesn’t let it disappear again. He will never let it disappear again.

Silver-blue eyes matched with a playful smirk. Neat hair combed back, with a soft ginger beard. Anakin gasps when a hand touches his own, and he immediately laces their fingers together, committing the feeling to memory.

He will never let himself forget this man again. He will never give up trying to get him back.

The more he concentrates, the more he can make out the figure in his mind. He can remember tan robes and brown boots. He can remember white armor over the robes, a symbol over the shoulder.

He can remember a more weathered form. One with long hair and broken silver eyes, a tiredness to them that stabs at his heart. At the memory of fighting the harrowed figure, the puzzle piece begins to slot back into place.

A name starts to form. Something desperate boils inside of him, ready to spill over as more memories wash over him.

“Obi..” He choked when the sandstorm retaliated, trying to push him away like last time.

Never again.

“Obi-Wan,” He finally breathes the name, everything flooding back as he repeats the name like a mantra. “Obi-Wan!” With more ferocity than before, he tugs the hand, every nerve in his body buzzing with energy. “Please, come back to me,”

The sandstorm tries again to push him away, and while he falls to his knees, he never lets go of the hand inside the heart of the storm.

If he has to hold on for eternity, he will do so.

He grits his teeth and pulls again, his heart skipping a beat as the sandstorm fluctuates. Uncaring if he gets dragged in as well, he shoves his other hand inside the heart of the storm.

It doesn’t take long for him to find the other hand, and when he finds it, he closes his eyes in relief, relishing their hold.

With both of their hands laced together, Anakin can’t stop the tears that fall down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry for everything, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, voice gradually shifting until no machine was left, just the sound of his true vocal cords. He looks at the storm in determination, eyes glowing a bright blue. “You can’t have him!”

The wind around him is howling, threatening to blow him away. He stands his ground, his knees digging deep into the unforgiving sand underneath. He shakes his head, eyes glowing more.

“I won’t let you,” He hisses, tugging again but to no avail. The storm fluctuates again, and it only spurs him on more, his heart blazing within the confines of his chest.

“I will stay here forever if I have to,” He promises the sandstorm, face set into a look of pure determination. “I won’t stop until I get him back,” He tugs again, feeling the shift in wind. “So, you either give him back,” Anakin growls, eyes blazing brighter. “Or you take me with him,”

Either way, he was not giving up. He was going to be with Obi-Wan, no matter the cost. With more resolve, he tries again and again.

He tugs with all of his might, and it feels like the force has snapped itself right again. With his last tug came a body that collided with his own, the pair landing on the rough sand.

Anakin immediately wraps his arms around the shaking form, holding him tightly as everything else around him becomes irrelevant. The force is quiet as his eyes burn with tears, fearful that it will all be a ruse and he will once again find himself waking up in a wrong reality.

A reality without this wonderful man in it.

“Anakin?” The voice causes him to choke back on a sob as he lays his head on the firm shoulder, afraid of ever letting go again. Overwhelming emotions curl around him as he slumps against the warm body, breathless sobs escaping.

“Stars, Obi-Wan,” Anakin chokes out, fingers threading through the soft hair. “I never want to lose you again. Kriff, I’m so sorry,” A trembling hand finds its way to his matted curls, slowly stroking through them, touching him like he’s a piece of glass.

“Dear one…”  The breathless voice is like a balm to his soul, the endearment soothing something that was once broken inside of him. “I can’t believe it..” The awe in Obi-Wan’s tone hurts him, but the older Jedi’s touch is still gentle. His touch is reverent, and Anakin can’t stop himself from leaning into it.

Before Anakin can say anything else, the force begins to shift again, their environment changing. In the blink of an eye, they’re deposited in their old rooms in the temple, a disembodied entity standing in the middle of the room.

“I should have expected this,” The otherworldly voice said, turning to look at the two, their glowing eyes softening at the sight of them. “A child of the force experiencing reality changing around them…” They shook their head with a fond sigh. “An oversight on my part. I was foolish for thinking the change would go unnoticed.”

“Who are you?” Anakin questions, moving to block Obi-Wan from their view. His eyes widen with the realization that he feels younger than before. When he glances at Obi-Wan, the man looks like he did right before they fought on Mustafar. He turns back to glare at the entity, remembering how the man beside him had vanished and wondering if they had caused it. “Did you do all of this?” The righteous anger is cut off when Obi-Wan gently touches his shoulder, making his anger vanish immediately.

“Their name is Astorius,” Obi-Wan mumbles softly. “They are one of the elder beings said to grant wishes,” He looked away from the piercing gaze of his former friend.

“Tell me, child.” Astorius moved to Anakin, a sad smile on their face. “You are from Tatooine, so surely you’ve heard of the Wishing Star,” Anakin blinks, mind racing as he recalls the myth his mother had often told him when he was a child.

“Every two hundred years a star said to grant wishes lands on Tatooine.” Anakin recites, narrowing his eyes. “My mom knew the truth about it, just like most of the slaves did. She knew that it would only seek out the most broken people…” Anakin trails off, throat constricting as he turns to look at Obi-Wan, who was refusing to meet his gaze.

“He carries quite a torch for you,” Astorius says softly. “Despite all of his own pain, all he wanted was for you to live a happy life, so I granted his wish. In exchange for his life, you got to live a happy one.” Anakin doesn’t breathe as the entity speaks, his heart sinking further with each word. “He knew the cost of his wish, and he still made it regardless,”  Tears fill Anakin’s eyes as he looks at the former Jedi Master, who still avoided his gaze.

“Obi-Wan,” His voice breaks, unable to stop a few tears from escaping.

“But it seems that we have a predicament now,” Astorius continued, looking at Obi-Wan instead. “You see, my child, he could never live a happy life without you,” A small flush burns the older man’s face as he clears his throat.

“Pardon?”

“When I grant a wish, it is based on the individual’s thoughts and feelings. When you made the wish for him to live a happy life, the wish was based on what you thought made him happy.” Obi-Wan listens, vaguely understanding. “In the end, your wish wasn’t what his heart truly wanted.” Anakin feels a similar blush blaze on his cheeks as he glances at Obi-Wan, who looks back at him with an intense look.

It feels like time stops when they look at each other, their hearts beating in sync. Even their force signatures seem to twine together, slotting together perfectly. Astorius breaks them from the moment with a wistful sigh.

“The wish might have worked had it been anyone else. But I erred as well. Since he is a child of the force, he would feel the wrongness of the world I crafted, of the things I changed.” They hum. 

“Is that why I would constantly seek out his signature in my dreams?” Anakin had to ask, remembering how anytime he fell asleep in the other world, he was always seeking out Obi-Wan. Even when he was awake, it felt like his signature was always reaching out to something that wasn’t there. 

“My child, surely you feel it?” Astorius looked at him with amusement, tilting their golden head. “There was another reason you knew something was wrong with the reality I created, and it wasn’t due to you being a child of the force. Your bond,” They said, motioning to the two of them. “Despite being fractured, was never truly gone. It is impossible for a force dyad’s bond to completely sever.” 

Anakin and Obi-Wan shared a private look, the two of them sporting a soft flush as the entity's words sink in. True enough, they had always felt each other in some form. Although they had never admitted it to themselves, there was always the faintest of connection between the two. 

But now that Anakin was deliberately searching through their bond, it felt as if it had never been fractured in the first place. It thrummed between them, their energies mingled into one. He looked at Obi-Wan, watching the way the man swallowed and glanced away.

“I imagine that is partially why he was able to pull me out of the force?” Astorius nodded, a smile on their lips. “And why he was able to remember me, despite the fact I didn’t exist.” Anakin tensed at the words, feeling sick to his stomach at the memory of a universe where Obi-Wan didn’t exist. 

He shifts closer to the man and lets their arms brush, needing the contact to anchor him, to remind him that Obi-Wan still exists. 

“His remembrance of you, and the refusal to let you go leads us here,” Anakin flushes at the words, especially when Obi-Wan stares at him, something so soft in the silver-blue eyes that it makes his heart squeeze. He looks back, only to freeze as the entity’s words catch up with him. 

When he faces Astorius, the being gives them a profound look. His lips parted in surprise as hope started to burn in his chest, his hands sweating. He speaks up, his voice shaking as his eyes widen. 

“You still have to grant a wish,” Anakin realized, causing the entity to smile in pride. 

“You are clever, my child.” They look at the two, motioning at the space around them. “One wish and you can come back to this time. Both of you. This is a week before Palpatine takes control, and before you leave for Utapau.” Anakin sucks in a breath, heart hammering in his chest as the other Jedi makes a move. 

“And the price this time?” Obi-Wan asked, more cautious than before. His protective instincts were coming back to life as he shifted to stand in front of Anakin, a look of determination settling onto his features as he tried to shield the younger. Astorius smiles at the move, their eyes glowing with fondness.

“None. All I ask is that you don’t make the same mistakes as before and that you don’t let the galaxy fall into such disorder again,” They said, their body shimmering slightly. “Do you accept the terms?” Without missing a beat, Obi-Wan nodded.

“Yes,” He agreed, looking even more determined than before. Anakin looks at him with wide eyes, his lips parting in wonder. “We do,” Astorius smiled, their body glowing brightly before beginning to fade. Before they vanished completely, they spoke up once more.

 “Before I go, I have one last request. Let yourselves be happy this time, my children. Follow your hearts instead of listening to your fears,”  With that, Astorius disappeared, leaving two Jedi with a long overdue conversation brewing between them. The room was eerily quiet, the weight of everything finally hitting the two.

They were back in time. They were given a chance to fix everything, to stop the galaxy from falling apart. They were given the chance to fix their relationship, to start again. 

Anakin sits down first, overwhelmed with everything that has happened. Tension builds up around them and he can’t stop his shaking hands from running through his curls, looking at a loss. Anakin takes a breath, bowing his head to hide his face as he speaks the words that he is dying to know.

“After everything I did, how could you not hate me, Obi-Wan?” His heart was racing as the other man sat beside him on the sofa. Obi-Wan’s movements were slow and careful, almost as if he couldn’t believe everything that had happened.

“I could never hate you, Anakin, even if I wanted to,” Obi-Wan confesses, brushing their knees together. “I knew the real you, and it wasn’t the person you became. I felt that somehow, you were still in there despite it all.” Anakin clenches his eyes shut to try and keep the tears at bay.

“Is that why you made the wish, because you believed there was still good in me?” There was a pause as Obi-Wan cleared his throat, looking at the other side of the room.

“Falling to the dark side means suffering, and when you were Vader, I had seen it firsthand,” He mumbles. “I didn’t want that for you, Anakin. I wanted you to live a happy life, free of all that pain and suffering. You…blast it,” Obi-Wan mumbles, rubbing at the tear streaks on his face. “Your happiness meant more to me than my own, dear one. If I could give my life in return for you to live a happy one, I would do it in a heartbeat,”

His closed eyes do nothing to stop the tears from sliding down his cheeks, and it takes all of his power to stop himself from outright sobbing at the words.

To Anakin’s surprise, a warm hand gently covers his own, shifting so that their palms are pressed together, their fingers intertwining.

“I heard everything, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says softly, but with a tone of conviction. “I heard all of your apologies, and all your pleas for me to come back,” Anakin’s heart stutters when the older Jedi brings their hands up, placing a gentle kiss on his knuckle. “I want you to hear this; I forgive you, Anakin. For all of it,”

Anakin breaks as a harsh sob escapes him, his body trembling with each sob. Two comforting arms wrapped around his trembling frame, pulling him into a warm chest. He sinks into it, gripping the other man as if he would vanish again.

“How can you forgive me?” Anakin asked through his tears. Obi-Wan merely holds him tighter, shaking his head.

“For many different reasons, but for one,” Obi-Wan tilts his face up gently, their eyes locking. “You felt regret for your actions, Anakin. I could feel your anguish and the sincerity of your apology in the force. How could I deny you forgiveness?” Anakin leans into the touch, calloused fingers rubbing his tears away. “Had it not been for Palpatine’s manipulations, you would not have become Vader,”

Deep down, Anakin knows this is true. The only other time he had committed similar horrors had been against the Tusken raiders. Even then, it had disgusted him after. When he touched the dark side then, he felt sick for days, bile constantly rising in his throat. After that, he had vowed to never let the dark side overcome him again. 

Only to let the dark side corrupt him years later. 

“I am sorry that I hadn’t realized about your manipulation until it was too late,” Anakin flinches at the apology, shifting to clench the familiar robes as he looks deeply into the silver-blue eyes.

“He had everyone fooled, Obi-Wan. Please don’t blame yourself for this,” There was a softness behind Obi-Wan’s eyes as the man caressed his cheek slowly, a small smile on his lips.

“Then I don’t want you blaming yourself either, dear one.” Anakin huffs in fond exasperation, knowing they were at an impasse. It makes him smile as well, a raspy chuckle leaving him.

“I guess we’re never going to agree on this, are we?” Obi-Wan snorts fondly as he moves his hand to tentatively stroke through Anakin’s curls, humming softly.

“Probably not,” He admits with a genuine smile. Anakin sighs, shaking his head.

“Ahsoka wasn’t joking when she said we were both idiots, was she?” Obi-Wan’s startled laugh fills the air around him, and for the first time in years, Anakin’s heart feels lighter. The sound makes his chest flutter, his smile widening. “Stars, I missed your laugh,” Anakin breathes out, laying his forehead on his former master’s shoulder as a wave of overwhelming emotions hits him. “I missed you so much,” He adds, clinging more.

“And I missed you, dear one,” Obi-Wan mumbles back, nose brushing against the curls as he lays a kiss on the top of his head. Anakin’s heart stutters in his chest for what feels like the hundredth time that day as he swallows hard. “I still can’t believe you’re here with me,” Anakin closes his eyes and bites his lips, recalling the words Astorius had said before departing.

‘Let yourselves be happy this time, my children. Follow your hearts,’ It made him burn with a dark flush, his heart threatening to escape as he recalled the other words the entity had said. ‘In the end, your wish wasn’t what his heart truly wanted.’

Anakin takes a breath, trying to steel his nerves.

“There is nowhere else I’d rather be in the entire galaxy,” Anakin confesses, biting his lips when Obi-Wan’s breath hitches. This close to him, Anakin can hear the pounding of the older man’s heart. He brushes against the man’s neck, feeling the pulse point spasming erratically. “This is where I belong. With you and only you,” He mumbles, eyes closing as his former master sucks in a breath.

“Anakin…” The older looks at him in awe. “What about Padme?” Obi-Wan croaks out as he moves his free hand to Anakin’s chin, tilting his face up carefully. “You love her.”

“No. I love you,” It takes all of Anakin’s courage to say those words, but he doesn’t regret it, not when Obi-Wan’s force signature thrums in unconcealable pleasure. “My heart has always wanted you, Obi-Wan. I do love Padme, but only as a friend. I don’t love her the same way I love you,”

“But your children…” Obi-Wan mumbled, stroking Anakin’s bottom lip with his thumb, his hand trembling. There were bright unshed tears in his eyes, the feeling of hope so strong that Anakin could drown in it. 

“I wish they were ours,” Anakin whispers shyly, looking at him through his lashes. “I would rather have a family with you, Obi-Wan. I’d rather spend my life with you,”

“Stars,” Obi-Wan closes his eyes, pressing their foreheads together. “Dearheart,” Anakin’s force signature thrums with approval at the endearment, letting down more of his walls as he speaks up again. 

“When I was in the reality of your original wish, it was like a part of my heart was missing. Being with Padme had felt wrong. You know what we did on the last day I was in that horrible universe?” Anakin asks, caressing Obi-Wan’s cheek, fingers stroking through the soft ginger beard. “We were getting a divorce. I knew I had lost someone who I loved more than anything, and I couldn’t force myself to be happy with her. I couldn’t be happy there without you by my side,” Anakin swallows hard and speaks up again, his voice shaking.

“Now that we have this second chance, I want to listen to my heart this time,” He confesses, chewing on his bottom lip as his heart races. “Last time, I was too afraid to act on it, but I want to change that. I don’t want Padme, I want-“ Anakin was cut off by warm lips pressing into his own, a sound of satisfaction forming in the back of his throat. He wraps his arm around the older Jedi’s neck, kissing back like his life depended on it. 

“I love you too,” Obi-Wan mumbles through their kisses, smiling against his lips. “Stars, Anakin. I love you more than anything,” The older Jedi confesses, kissing him with such devotion and love that Anakin melts into it, his chest exploding with warmth and relief. 

Anakin feels as if a weight has been lifted from his chest as they come together for another passionate kiss, their force signatures wrapping around each other tightly. It was nearly impossible to see where their signatures began and ended, the two slotting together perfectly. 

At how perfect everything felt at this moment, Anakin loses himself in their passionate kisses, sinking further into the man holding him. He felt the older Jedi pull him closer, kissing him deeper, only breaking apart when they needed air. 

They were quick to drag each other back, afraid of letting go as their kisses turned messy, their tongues sliding against each other slowly. Anakin groans deeply, his fingers threading through Obi-Wan’s auburn hair, loosing himself into the kiss. 

“As much as I love kissing you, dearheart,” Obi-Wan mumbled after a few minutes, struggling to pull away as he panted out. “Now that we’re back in time, I believe we have a council to warn about Palpatine,” Anakin nearly groaned when the kiss was broken, but he nodded, licking his kiss-swollen lips, still tasting the other man. He smirked a bit when he caught Obi-Wan tracing the movements with his eyes, but instead of dragging the man in for another kiss like he desperately wanted, he put some distance between them as well.

“And I have a divorce to request,” Anakin said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, thinking about the fact he was technically still married. “I owe her that much, at least.” He said, glancing at Obi-Wan with a sigh. “I guess it’s time we start making use of our promise to Astorius,”

“It would appear so,” Obi-Wan stood, pulling Anakin up with him.

“…May I kiss you one more time, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked once they made their way to the door, the two about to face a world they hadn’t seen in a decade.

“You may kiss me anytime, Anakin,” Obi-Wan promised, carefully tugging the younger closer. “Except in the council chambers,” The man teased, and Anakin laughed, leaning down to capture the warm lips one more time.

That one kiss ended up with Anakin pressed into the wall, a skillful tongue tracing the inside of his mouth. He clutched the auburn hair desperately, groaning when they eventually parted again. 

It took longer to pull away this time, but when they did, Anakin took a steadying breath as Obi-Wan smirked at him.

“Ready, dear one?” Obi-Wan teased, offering his arm to the younger Jedi as he waited at the door, watching Anakin with a smirk. Mock glaring at the man, Anakin accepted the arm, unable to stop a smile from blossoming.

“With you beside me, I’ll be ready for anything,” Their force signatures thrummed against each other as they opened the door, ready to build a brighter future. “I’m glad we were given this second chance, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, sending the man a shy smile. Obi-Wan returned it, lifting Anakin’s hand to give it a chaste kiss. 

“As am I, Anakin. We won’t be pulled apart again,” The promise makes the younger man release a shaky breath, his eyes filling with joyous tears. 

This time, they would listen to the force and allow themselves to be happy like they should have done all those years ago.

 -

(Epilogue) 

“That was a brilliant plan, dearheart,” Obi-Wan confessed, stroking through Anakin’s curls slowly. The younger Jedi hums, his head resting on Obi-Wan’s chest. 

“I didn’t want to take any chances,” Anakin confessed, peering up at the other man. “For years I tried to understand how Palpatine made the clone army obey him. I knew it had to be more than the chips in their head,” He mumbled. 

“So you theorized about a master key chip?” Obi-Wan inquired, causing Anakin to nod. 

“There were millions of clones. It didn’t make sense for millions of individual biochips to be made. There would have to be a master chip to ensure every chip was flawless.” He said. “It also wouldn’t make sense to program millions of chips individually. It would take too much time from a mechanical standpoint,” Anakin ranted off, flushing darkly after a moment. 

Obi-Wan smirked at him, tilting his head up to catch his lips in a gentle kiss. 

“I forgot how amazing you were with engineering. You always astounded me,” Obi-Wan smiled, causing Anakin to flush at the slight praise. 

“I also imagined there could have been issues with chips malfunctioning,” Anakin confessed after he regained his composure. “Having millions of chips could lead to some being defected as well. They would all need to be perfect copies of each other. They couldn’t risk one being defective, so a master chip would get rid of that problem. It would have to act as the main program.” Obi-Wan pauses again, starting to understand. 

“You theorized the master chip acted as the queen of a hive mind,” Obi-Wan realized, stroking his beard in thought. “The command would go to that one first, then be processed to the others. And by destroying the master chip…”

“The program for order sixty-six becomes obsolete. Without the main chip delegating the orders to all the other chips, it becomes useless code,” Obi-Wan laughs breathlessly, kissing Anakin until they’re both left panting. 

“You are astounding, Anakin. You truly are a gift,” Obi-Wan pants softly, earning a startled gasp and groan from the Jedi underneath him. “Utterly perfect,” Anakin hides his flushed face, pressing it into Obi-Wan’s shoulder. 

“Palpatine had allies,” Anakin says shakily. “While he didn’t trust many, there were a handful who knew his plans and were willing to carry them out if he was unable. I didn’t want to risk one of them unleashing order sixty-six,” 

“You made a good call,” Obi-Wan confessed. “I also requested the assistance of Master Che, in case anything were to go wrong with the Clones.” Anakin smiles in gratitude, humming as lips capture his own again. He kisses back, looping an arm around Obi-Wan’s neck. 

“I’m just relieved my theory about the master chip was correct,” Anakin confessed as they parted. “And that we were able to convince the council to let us go to Kamino,” It was odd answering to them again, considering he had been involved in their death a lifetime ago. “I think Master Yoda suspects something,”

“When doesn’t he?” Obi-Wan huffed fondly, tilting his head to kiss Anakin’s jaw. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he sensed something different about us.” 

“Perhaps he sensed our stronger bond?” Anakin mumbles, gasping at the kiss to the side of his neck, turning to give the older man more room. “Do you think he knows we’re a dyad?” His breath hitches as another kiss is left on his neck, lingering longer than the other one. 

“I think Master Yoda was always more insightful than we realized,” Obi-Wan confessed, pulling away to look down at him. “If he is aware we are a dyad, I have a feeling he won't demand answers,”  He said, caressing Anakin’s flushed cheek. The younger leans into the touch with a sigh, turning to place a gentle kiss on the warm palm. 

With Obi-Wan’s hand against his cheek, Anakin can’t help but speak up about something that still plagued him. 

“Sometimes I still worry that when I go to sleep, you won't be here when I wake up,” Anakin confesses, letting Obi-Wan’s touch anchor him. “That your essence will be swallowed by the force again and I won’t remember you. That when I wake up, there will be a universe where you don’t exist…” Anakin’s voice cracks near the end, choking on the lump in his throat. 

“Never again, Anakin,” Obi-Wan promised, leaning down to kiss him deeply, pouring all of his love into it. “I promise, dear one.” Obi-Wan’s love and adoration cascade over him, and Anakin feels it sink into his very being, his chest exploding with warmth. He answers it, sending his feelings of love and reverence into their bond. 

Anakin feels the way Obi-Wan trembles from the onslaught of adoration, their kiss slowing down and turning into something heavy and languid. When a warm tongue starts to prod, Anakin immediately parts his lips to meet it, groaning when it slides against his own. 

Obi-Wan teases the roof of his mouth and Anakin feels an embarrassing moan slip out, which the older Jedi easily swallows. Anakin can only groan again as the warm appendage slides deeper into his mouth, exploring every inch it can. When one of Obi-Wan’s hands lands in his hair, tugging him closer, Anakin responds with new vigor, meeting each prod and flick from the tongue. 

He is delighted at the groan he was awarded with, one of his hands moving to cup Obi-Wan’s face, thumbing at his jaw. Anakin whines when they eventually part, only to gasp as Obi-Wan tugs his hair gently, his neck on full display. 

Lips trail down his neck, mouthing at his pulse point slowly. Sharp teeth nip at the bare skin, a soothing tongue flicking at the spot immediately after. 

“Fuck,” Anakin breathes out, fisting at Obi-Wan’s robes desperately. “You’re such a tease, Obi-Wan,” The older Jedi chuckles softly against his neck, looking down at him with amusement. 

“Am I now? That seems to be a fitting title for you as well,” The man responds, accent deeper than usual. Anakin swallows hard at the deeper octave, biting his lips as he looks up at the older man. Obi-Wan sighs softly, grey-blue eyes locked onto him. “You look exquisite, dear one.” Anakin’s face burns with a dark flush, his lips parting as he glances away for a moment, before he grows more emboldened. 

“So do you,” He says, looking at him through his lashes. “Even in all of my fantasies, nothing could compare to how you look right now,” He leans up, their noses brushing. “I’ve always wanted to be under you like this,” Anakin breathes into Obi-Wan’s ear, deciding to tease the man back.  He withholds a smug smirk as his lover shudders and gasps against him. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan rasps, leaning down to kiss him again, his hands moving to tug their robes off. Anakin had always imagined Obi-Wan as the type of person to slowly shed his clothes, but seeing the raw desperation in the man’s eyes, and feeling it so strongly in their bond, he isn’t surprised that their clothes are thrown haphazardly into a pile somewhere. 

He shivers as the cool air from the room hits him, his fingers flying to tug at Obi-Wan’s undershirt and pants, his desperation flaring beneath him. 

“Never yearned for anyone as much as I yearned for you,” Anakin pants between their desperate kisses, his hands hovering over the man's boxers. Warm hands land on his own, guiding them as they tug the boxers off, every inch of skin on display. 

Anakin’s mouth waters as he places his palm on Obi-Wan’s chest, slowly dragging his hand down, his fingertips committing every inch of skin to memory. His eyes slip shut as he wraps his fingers around the flushed cock, a satisfied sigh slipping past. 

Obi-Wan hisses in pleasure as he leans down to kiss Anakin’s shoulder, groaning at a particularly long pump. 

“Always wanted to touch you like this, Obi-Wan.” Anakin pressed his forehead against the other man’s, moaning when warm lips crashed against his in another passionate kiss. Anakin pants as they part, choking on a moan as Obi-Wan trails a fingertip across a vein, teasing at his slit after. His head falls back as he bites his lips, fighting off another moan as his lover tugs him slowly. 

“You’re kriffing beautiful, Anakin,” Obi-Wan’s voice was wrecked, the sound making Anakin’s cock twitch with need. They meet each other for another kiss, this one less frenzied than the last. “You’re not the only one who would fantasize about this, dear one,” All Anakin can do is kiss the man desperately, the need inside of him growing. 

Anakin can’t withhold the shudder that travels down his tingling spine, reaching out within the force to grab a bottle of oil in one of the drawers, swallowing hard when Obi-Wan catches the bottle without breaking the kiss. The heated look in his lover’s eyes paired with the handsome smirk makes his breath hitch low in his throat, all of the air leaving him in a matter of seconds. 

“Kriff, Obi-Wan,” Anakin breathes out, entire body flaring with warmth. “Please,” He begs, spreading his legs, enjoying the deep groan he draws from the older Jedi. Hands caress him reverently, sliding down until they reach his ass. A finger trails across his entrance with a featherlight touch, barely touching the rim as it circles it. 

Anakin’s heart races in anticipation when Obi-wan shifts to open the bottle, his cock giving another twitch as he watches the oil slide over the thick fingers. He licks his lips again, letting his gaze trail over every inch of skin he can spot, his mouth watering again when his gaze lands on the flushed cock. 

“Next time, I want to taste you, Obi-Wan,” He breathes the words out, enjoying the way Obi-Wan swallows hard, his Adam’s-apple bobbing. “I’ve always wanted to get on my knees for you,” 

“You will be the death of me,” Obi-Wan rasps out, gripping his hip as he hoists him closer. Anakin spreads his legs wider, forcing his body to relax. 

As the first finger circles his rim and presses in, Anakin sucks in a breath and grips his lover’s shoulder, trying to get accustomed to the feeling. He breathes in and out as it works him open with precise movements, small breathless moans soon slipping past his lips. 

“That’s it,” Obi-Wan breathes against his ear, kissing the shell before moving to lay a trail of wet kisses down his neck that leaves Anakin a writhing mess. The newly made marks against his neck help distract him from the sensation of a second finger pressing in, too busy pulling the man into a desperate kiss. 

Even in his fantasies, he never imagined Obi-Wan would be so possessive, but the tingling along his neck makes him question that. As he kisses the older Jedi, he curls his tongue, finally dominating the kiss and drawing a guttural moan from him. He takes his time, devouring his lover's mouth before pulling away to let out a desperate sound. 

“Kriff,” Anakin pants against Obi-Wan’s neck, his body trembling as every nerve in his body burns with pleasure. He arches when his lover presses against the bundle of nerves again, pre-cum forming at the tip of his cock, which Obi-Wan gathers, teasing his slit next. “Please,” He begs, feeling each finger curling inside of him, but still needing more. “Get inside of me, master. Please,” 

Obi-Wan wastes no time retracting his fingers, quickly applying a generous amount of oil to his cock as he leans down to kiss Anakin’s shoulder, nosing at a dark mark on his neck. 

“I need you to relax again, dearest one,” Anakin thrums in approval at the newest endearment, soon following the order. “Good. You’ve done so well for me,” Shuddering at the soft praise, Anakin grips Obi-Wan’s shoulder as the man finally presses in, hissing as the man fully sheathes himself. 

“Sith hell,” Anakin groans, enjoying the pleasant burn as he moves to leave his own set of marks on Obi-Wan’s neck, taking time to adjust to the new feeling. 

It’s a testament to Obi-Wan’s resolve as the man stays still, only panting and groaning as Anakin leaves dark marks on his neck. He doesn’t dare move an inch as the younger grows accustomed to the blunt intrusion. 

But Anakin soon whines, holding the older tighter as he subtly shifts, drawing in a shaky breath. 

“Move,” He begs. “Stars, move,” The desperation in Anakin’s tone draws a deep groan from Obi-Wan, who slowly pulls out and then pushes back in, creating a slow, steady rhythm. The pair cling to each other, their breaths mingling together as they moan, their bond shimmering with their shared pleasure. 

“Perfect,” Obi-Wan praises, snapping his hips deeper, earning more desperate groans from his lover. “You’re absolutely perfect, Anakin,” The younger Jedi can only moan at the praise, too focused on the sensations around him to respond. 

He wraps a leg around Obi-Wan’s waist, tightening the hold as he pulls him closer, somehow sending the cock even deeper inside of him. Anakin sucks in a breath at the moan Obi-Wan releases, a prominent tremble in the man’s movements as he loses the rhythm for a second. 

Each thrust sends a shockwave of pleasure down his spine, all of his nerves tingling as he pushes back, meeting every thrust with soft, breathless moans. Despite the building pleasure and desire, Anakin feels his heart skip a beat as a hand finds his mechno-hand, intertwining their fingers. 

Lips claim his own, and he can’t stop from smiling into the kiss that was brimming with love and need, a pleased moan slipping past at a deep thrust. His free hand lands on Obi-Wan’s back, his nails biting into the soft flesh there as he clings, trying to urge him forward more. 

“Never felt this good before,” Anakin huffs against Obi-Wan’s neck when he breaks the kiss, kissing the fresh marks on his lover's neck. He enjoys the shudder that travels down Obi-Wan’s neck and he clings more, moaning at another hard thrust. “Only you could ever make me feel this good, Obi-Wan,” 

A soft growl escapes his lover, who tilts his head to nip the dark marks on his neck, his breath coming out in soft pants. Anakin gives a startled gasp as Obi-Wan angles his thrust, hitting the bundle of nerves with detailed precision. 

“Kriff,” He choked on another moan, his gut coiling with red-hot need, the pleasure spreading through every nerve. Even his force signature fluctuates, curling around Obi-Wan as it seems to shudder, their shared pleasure made more evident through their bond. 

A warm hand wraps around his neglected cock, pumping in time with the relentless thrusts. Obi-Wan teases his slit, gathering the precum as he seems to increase his speed, drawing out desperate cries and moans from Anakin with each thrust and pump. 

There is so much Anakin wants to say, so many confessions and passionate pleads he wants to make. The only coherent thing he can say is Obi-Wan’s name, which leaves his lips like a broken prayer, the name torn from his lips like a mantra. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan isn’t fairing much better, his half-lidded eyes glazed with pleasure as they look down at him, watching every look of pleasure that forms on his lover's face. “Dear one,” He exhales, leaning down to swallow his moans and cries, his tongue plunging into the mouth relentlessly. 

Each sensation causes another jolt of pleasure to shoot down Anakin’s spine. He sloppily kisses back, only breaking away when the pleasure is about to reach its boiling point. 

“Shit,” He curses, eyes nearly rolling back at another powerful thrust. “Obi-Wan,” Anakin tries to warn him as more precum dribbles out, his gut tightening more. “Obi-Wan,” He pleads again, clinging tighter. 

“I know, dearheart,” Obi-Wan’s voice is a deep rumble, the accent thicker than Anakin has ever heard before. He can hardly concentrate on it when the hand pumps him faster, the pleasure close to boiling over. 

His eyes flutter shut as his lips part, breathless moans slipping past as he cries out Obi-Wan’s name, finally spilling out between them as shockwaves of pleasure flow like lava through his body. 

Anakin hears the desperate groan Obi-Wan releases immediately after, feeling his pleasure so closely in the force that it feels like his own. He keeps his arm wrapped around Obi-Wan’s shoulders, clinging more as he looks up at him through glazed eyes. Anakin witnesses the moment the pleasure becomes too much for his lover; the movements becoming sloppy as Obi-Wan’s hips stutter as they lose their rhythm, the way the beautiful eyes cloud with pleasure before falling shut. 

He hears a broken gasp of pleasure, shuddering when Obi-Wan finally releases as well, the man breathing out his name in such a way that Anakin’s force signature shimmers between them. He blindly reaches forward to bring Obi-Wan down for a slow, sloppy kiss, the two riding the aftershocks of their pleasure together. 

Their breath’s mingle as they pant, their kisses slowing down further until they merely soak in each others presence, staring at each other with a look of pure love and devotion. For a long moment, they simply stare at each other, letting everything settle. 

As they lay down, Anakin gives a startled chuckle as Obi-Wan shifts, tugging him against his chest as he spoons him from behind. He can’t stop the pleased hum from leaving him, his heart thudding happily in his chest as he smiles to himself. 

“Never pictured you as a post-sex cuddler,” Anakin teased, soon blushing when lips kissed the back of his neck, lingering against a dark mark. A warm arm was thrown across his body, curling against him as it tightens, somehow pulling him closer to the warm chest behind him. 

“Are you displeased?” Obi-Wan teased back, his beard brushing against Anakin’s marked neck and shoulder again, scraping against a particularly dark one.  Withholding a shudder, the younger Jedi went to respond, only for the air to be sucked right out of him as Obi-Wan pressed even closer, his warm chest covering his entire back, a cock pressed against his ass. “Because I think you enjoy it, dear one,” The older Jedi mumbled against his ear, his hand trailing up and down his chest. 

Anakin’s eyes flutter as another wave of desire hits him, his body shivering in anticipation. Reaching out into the force, he can feel that same desire coming from his lover and he bites back a moan, his lips parting in wonder. 

“I think you’re going to be the death of me,” Anakin rasped out, letting Obi-Wan tilt his neck back. They meet for another wet kiss, the want still swimming around them as they explore each other’s mouths again, hands unable to stay still. 

Despite not lasting as long as the first time, the second orgasm feels just as powerful as the first, their bodies shaking as they finish again. 

“Well, fuck,” Anakin breathes out after, a breathless chuckle escaping him as they press their foreheads together. “This is better than any fantasy I could have ever dreamed of,” Obi-Wan chuckles with him, caressing the flushed cheek. 

“I think I’m inclined to agree with you, dear one.” The man mumbled. “In all of my dreams, nothing could compare to how beautiful you looked,” Anakin flushes darkly, smiling as they pull each other closer, the galaxy becoming irrelevant as they let themselves be happy. 

Neither would let anyone, or anything, separate them again.  

 

Notes:

Saving the best for last: here is the wonderful artist I was paired with. eggchayi

And here's a link to the beautiful artwork they did for the story Artwork