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The golden light of Coruscant's perpetual city glow streamed through the open window of Padmé’s apartment. The senator had just let her hair down, its waves cascading over her shoulders. Anakin crossed the room, a soft smile tugging at his lips, and kissed her gently, his flesh hand weaving into her dark locks.
Padmé leaned into him, smiling into the kiss. They stood there in comfortable silence, an odd but welcome reprieve from the galaxy’s chaos. For Anakin, moments like these were grounding, but rare. Padmé was his anchor in a storm that no meditation or Force technique could quiet.
Finally, Padmé pulled away, her hands resting against his chest. “I’m glad I’m home,” she said softly, her voice carrying both relief and exhaustion.
“And I, too.” Anakin’s tone turned serious, though his gaze remained tender. “I hope you know that little trip of yours was very dangerous. You could have at least let me know, especially when you took my padawan with you.”
Padmé raised an eyebrow but noted the lack of accusation in his voice - just worry. “Ani, it was hardly comparable to what you and Ahsoka go through every day on a battlefield. My mission was strictly diplomatic. Besides, that girl needs to see more of the galaxy than war zones and barracks. She’s fourteen. She should explore!”
“You’re right,” Anakin admitted, running a hand through his hair. “It pains me that she’s being brought up in wartime. I remember complaining to Obi-Wan about never leaving the Temple all the time when I was a padawan. All that studying seemed useless and boring; I wanted more adventures and action. But looking at our padawans now, looking at how Ahsoka is being taught... I was lucky. I try to make it fun for her, but how can anyone make war fun for a kid? Dismantling fallen droids competitions can only distract her so much from the reality of soldiers dying - our brothers, Padmé.”
He sank onto the couch, his shoulders heavy with the weight of his words. “I’m no politician; I don’t understand the Senate as well as you do. But I know what you’re trying to accomplish with these negotiations is vital for everyone. If this trip helps, then I’ll be the first to thank you for it. If not, I’m grateful you tried.”
Padmé crossed to the kitchen, retrieving two glasses of wine. Handing one to Anakin, she sat beside him, her brow furrowed.
“Actually, how was your trip? Politics notwithstanding. How was your friend?”
“She’s good,” Padmé replied, her expression dimming. “She lost her husband recently - a civilian casualty of the Clone Wars.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Anakin murmured. He would never admit it to his wife, but he rarely thought about Separatist casualties. They were Separatists, after all - they were the bad guys, they were to blame for this conflict, so why should he pity their dead? Only, right now this line of thought seemed... kind of stupid.
“She has a lovely son, Lux. He seemed to hit it off with Ahsoka, actually.”
Anakin shot up from the couch, nearly spilling his drink. “What? A boy? There was a boy? Interested in Ahsoka? A Separatist boy?”
Padmé laughed at his escalating tone. “Why, yes, Ani, but it’s hardly news.”
“What?” Anakin’s face twisted in disbelief, as if the galaxy itself had betrayed him.
“She’s a teenager, Ani. Of course there are going to be boys - or girls. She’s going to be interested in people, and they’ll be interested in her.”
“But - she’s only fourteen!” Anakin protested. “She should be interested in her training! Or meditation!”
Padmé sighed, exasperated. “Ani, come on. I thought you were just pretending not to notice because it would be awkward. But on Mandalore…”
“What about Mandalore?” Anakin asked, narrowing his eyes.
Padmé hesitated. “Satine’s nephew. Korkie. I think they took a liking to each other.”
Anakin froze. “Korkie Kryze? That red-headed hotshot? No. No, no, no, no, no. This is all Obi-Wan’s fault.”
Padmé blinked. “How is this Obi-Wan’s fault?”
“He set an example! Have you seen him with Satine? He admitted they had something going on! Oh Force - Korkie. Have you seen Korkie? Oh no, no, no- this is a Kenobi if I’ve ever seen one!”
Padmé’s eyes widened. “Ani, that’s ridiculous. Korkie isn’t Obi-Wan’s. That’s not possible.”
“Think about it, Padmé. The age matches. The red hair. The chin rub he does. This is Obi-Wan’s son!”
Padmé stared at him, her mouth falling open. “Oh my god. I can’t unsee it now!”
“Well, kark it. I’m not touching this topic with a ten-foot pole. Maybe after the war.”
“Neither am I.” Padmé snorted. “It seems Satine has it all figured out. But still - kark.”
“Wait.” Anakin froze. “Does this mean Ahsoka is interested in Obi-Wan’s son?”
Padmé shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. They met briefly. I’m just saying - Lux, Korkie - there will be boys. Have you not talked to her about… all that?”
“No!” Anakin groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I thought I still had time. Oh, Force - I have to talk to her, don’t I?”
“She’s your Padawan. Who else will teach her?”
“Maybe you could…”
“Ani, how do you imagine that conversation would go? ‘Hey Ahsoka, I know I’m just a random senator, but your master asked me to talk to you about flowers and bees. You up for it?’”
Anakin grimaced. “You do have experience.”
“So do you!”
“My best pick-up line was ‘I don’t like sand.’ I’m not qualified!”
Padmé burst into laughter, doubling over. “You’re right. That was horrible. At least if you handle this, we won’t be grandparents too quickly.”
“This is not funny!”
***
The dawn over Coruscant cast a pale, hazy glow over the sprawling skyline. The constant hum of speeders filled the air, faint and rhythmic like a heartbeat. Anakin slipped out of the marital bed, careful not to disturb Padmé, who mumbled softly in her sleep. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before grabbing his robes and heading to the Jedi Temple.
The Temple halls were quiet at this hour, the morning meditation period still an hour away. Anakin made his way to Obi-Wan’s quarters, a familiar routine when they were both on Coruscant. He knocked lightly on the door, and a moment later, the door slid open with a hiss.
Obi-Wan appeared, already dressed in his usual Jedi tunic, his beard neatly trimmed and a steaming cup of tea in hand. His holopad floated beside him, a newsfeed scrolling on its surface (improper use of force, master!).
“Ah, Anakin,” Obi-Wan greeted warmly, stepping aside to let him in. “Come in, dear one. How are you this morning?”
“I’m good, Master. Thank you.”
“Sit down. I made you caff. Breakfast should be ready soon,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing to the small table in the kitchen. The room smelled faintly of tea leaves and a hint of the polished wood furniture Obi-Wan preferred. When Anakin was still living in his master’s quarters full time, there was a constant smell of metal, motor oil, and sometimes burnt cables when one of his projects didn’t work out particularly well. There were still some spare parts left around for Anakin to tinker with whenever he stayed with his master.
“You’re the best, Master,” Anakin said, taking the cup gratefully.
“Don’t I know it?” Obi-Wan replied, a teasing glint in his eye as he settled into a chair. “Did you have a pleasant evening with Senator Amidala?”
Anakin choked on his caff slightly, then recovered. “Yes. Quite enjoyable.”
Obi-Wan smirked, but before he could prod further, Anakin’s expression darkened as he remembered last night’s conversation. He sighed, knowing he couldn’t avoid the subject any longer.
“What troubles you, my apprentice?” Obi-Wan asked, his tone shifting to genuine concern. “I can sense something is bothering you.”
“It’s… nothing, really.” Anakin hesitated, then blurted, “It’s about Ahsoka. It’s come to my attention that she’s interested in… making new friends.”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “And what’s wrong with that? Expanding her social circle is healthy.”
“She’s apparently making boy friends,” Anakin clarified, his voice tight. “There’s this Lux - he’s the son of a Separatist senator. Padmé introduced them on the recent diplomatic mission.”
Obi-Wan sipped his tea, entirely unfazed. “I see no issue with that. It’s good for her to meet people from all walks of life. Not everything is black and white, Anakin.”
“It’s not just Lux,” Anakin grumbled. “There’s also… Korkie.”
“Korkie Kryze?” Obi-Wan frowned slightly, then waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, come now, Anakin. He’s just a bright young man from Mandalore.”
“Your girlfriend’s nephew,” Anakin pointed out.
Obi-Wan gave him a withering look. “Once again, Satine is not my girlfriend.”
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care. The point is - Ahsoka is seeing boys as boys! Like, romantically!”
Obi-Wan sighed. “Anakin, she’s fourteen. That’s perfectly normal. I experienced my first heartbreak at that age.”
“With all due respect, Master, that’s because you’re a hoe.”
“Anakin!” Obi-Wan nearly spilled his tea, scandalised. “So uncivilised,” he murmured under his breath.
“Half my Padawanship was spent fending people off you! You flirt during negotiations! And duels! I’ve had to hear about you and Quinlan Vos in ways I never wanted to!”
“Who told you about me and Vos?”
“He did! His padawan did!”
“That kriffing…” Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Fine. Let’s leave my history out of this. As for Ahsoka, just talk to her.”
“And what exactly am I supposed to say? You didn’t teach me much about this!”
“Because you didn’t seem interested!” Obi-Wan countered, exasperated. “I thought you either had it figured out or didn’t care!”
“How was I supposed to figure this out?!”
“Well, didn’t you have a thing with Aayla Secura?”
Anakin’s face turned red. “No! That was you projecting! Because of Master Vos!”
Obi-Wan threw his hands in the air. “Alright! Then send her to Master Yoda’s classes.”
Anakin groaned. “Master, have you ever been in that class?”
Obi-Wan’s lips twitched. “Good point. That was a… unique experience.”
“I still remember his teachings, word for word,” Anakin said, shuddering. “‘Insert yourself bare, you should not. Protect yourself, you must.’”
“No, no,” Obi-Wan corrected, his voice dropping into a Yoda impression. “‘Your lightsaber, protect you must. Size, matter does not.’”
Anakin snorted. “The worst one? ‘Your moves, master you must. Training, it takes. Mastered it for centuries, I have not’. I nearly turned to the Dark Side right then and there.”
They dissolved into laughter, doing increasingly exaggerated Yoda impressions.
“Master Obi-Wan, you must listen to. Many bitches, he got. Practice, he has,” Anakin said, barely able to contain himself.
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “To Anakin, do not listen. Flirt, he cannot. To score a senator, nice lightsaber, probably he has.”
Anakin choked on his caff, laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.
When their laughter finally subsided, Anakin looked at Obi-Wan seriously. “Master, what did Qui-Gon teach you about all this?”
Obi-Wan’s expression softened, and he stared ahead for a moment. “He didn’t, really. We had an unspoken ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. He knew when I was sneaking out, and I knew when he was doing the same. Sometimes, he’d give me advice I didn’t ask for - usually when he was tipsy. I still haven’t recovered from the time he decided to tell me exactly how to please a woman.”
Anakin grimaced. “Did you at least use the advice?”
“…Yes, but I figured out most of it myself,” Obi-Wan admitted with a smirk.
“Okay, I take it back - I did not need to know that.”
“Well, now you do.”
“None of this helps with Ahsoka,” Anakin grumbled, rubbing his temples. “I don’t want her sneaking around with Separatist boys!”
Obi-Wan placed a comforting hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “The thing is, my very young apprentice, you don’t have a choice. She’s following your teachings and becoming more like you every day. When the time comes, she will sneak around. It’s inevitable.”
“So what do I do?” Anakin asked, desperate. “How do I make sure she’s safe?”
“Talk to her,” Obi-Wan said simply. “In hindsight, I regret not talking to you more about it all.”
Anakin sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll talk to her.”