September 15, 2005
Ok, fist things first - I want to send MEGA hugs and loving to my Beta and my buddy, TempleMistress. Without you, this story would probably have faded away into the dark recesses of my computer, never to be completed! Thank you for encouraging me, for polishing this story so that it shone even beyond my wildest imaginings. A big Obi-hug to you, and I apologize again for being a tragedy junkie! Love you! (Remember, that shower scene in particular is dedicated - and extra steamified! - to and for you!)
Disclaimer: Yeah, if I owned them, would Luke Skywalker have ever been in the movies? Nuhuh! It would all be Obi!
"…the gods may love a man, but they can't help him
when cold death comes to lay him on his bier."
The Odyssey, lines 225-256
My Immortal
Part 1:
Palpatine had made a mistake.
It was a new experience for the Sith Lord, after carefully planning and plotting out his schemes for the better part of three decades, and it was not an experience that he particularly enjoyed. Especially since whether or not he would be able to learn from this mistake was currently in question.
All over one Jedi Master, Palpatine mused, edging silkily backwards, from the silhouette in the doorway, the tidal wave of the Force that he felt approaching. He had wanted Kenobi to be dead before the boy arrived in his office. A pity that Anakin had witnessed the end of their battle, and his Master's collapse.
More of a pity that the damnable Jedi still seemed to be alive.
He kicked at the prone form of Obi-Wan Kenobi in passing. The Jedi Master had been intended for Utapau, where Grievous could have conveniently delayed him for a few days. But no, this paragon of the Jedi Order had been obliged to have a change of heart, had decided to disobey his directions and come to the rescue of Anakin Skywalker, his beloved friend.
Palpatine repressed a sneer at such blatant emotion. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a meddlesome pest, an insect that buzzed irritatingly at the edge of his plans. He had tried to spoil Skywalker's destiny, to intervene in the boy's fate, just when he had been about to fall.
And like an insect, Palpatine had squashed him. Tortured his body with the Sith lightning until that smug, self-righteous voice had been worn ragged with agonized screams.
Palpatine's pouchy lips twisted in a spiteful grimace as he deliberately trod on the Jedi Master's outstretched hand. The bones crunched deliciously, garnering a mockery of a smile from the hideous features. Judging by the sound, it was likely that Obi-Wan would never handle a lightsaber again now.
Meddlesome bastard.
The sudden drop in temperature that flooded the room made him look up in surprise. The Force was radiating from this boy, a physical presence that was manifesting itself around the room; faint feathery patterns of frost tracing the transparisteel windows and glossed marble floors, the wisps of white that fluttered in the air with every breath exhaled.
Palpatine inhaled deeply. This anger, this raw power was marvellous. He forced a kindly, almost fatherly smile to his lips, twisted though they were from the exertion of fighting Kenobi.
"Anakin, my boy," he wheezed theatrically, "you arrived just in time. I didn't think I could hold out against him any longer. Quickly, you have to kill him, before he destroys me."
His fallaciously desperate plea fell on deaf ears; the young Jedi was staring at him as though he had never seen the Chancellor before in his life. The hurt confusion, the agony of indecision; everything that the Sith Lord had worked so hard to implant and nurture like poison in Anakin Skywalker's soul – all of that had abruptly vanished from the young Jedi's eyes. He was no longer seduced by Palpatine's honey-coated words.
Those eyes had suddenly become very, very cold.
"He was going to prevent you from saving her, Anakin; he would have kept you from saving Padmé…from fulfilling your destiny. They are jealous of you Anakin, the entire Order wants to twist you to their ideals, to rob you of your potential."
Anakin made no reply, stepping forward into the room with all the authority and presence of a battle cruiser. And with more destructive capabilities. Palpatine found himself moving backwards involuntarily, scampering behind his desk in an attempt to put something solid between himself and this epicentre of the disturbance in the Force.
Anakin knelt momentarily by his Master's side, laying one hand gently on his cheek. Palpatine strained forward to catch the words that the younger man spoke, reading the syllables that his lips formed.
I'm sorry.
Palpatine scowled. It would be such a waste to eliminate such potential, but there was really nothing else for it. The boy was fully and disgustingly saturated with the Light Side.
Unless….
The Master was, regrettably, still alive, if barely. Another oversight, but one that could potentially be turned to his advantage. Anakin had always been a slave to his own sentiments. If he felt so strongly about that dried-up twig of a Jedi Master of his….
"Use the power, Anakin," he urged quietly, "you can feel the power of the Dark Side; I sense it in you. The power to save lives, Anakin, remember, I promised it to you."
Anakin turned to face him, eyes clouded, rising slowly from his fallen Master's side.
Palpatine pressed the advantage, reaching out one hand in a welcoming gesture, a comforting motion to assuage the conflict of emotion that he felt radiating from the boy.
"There's no reason that the power must be reserved for Padmé's sake alone. Do you love Obi-Wan better than you love her? Then use that power." his voice faltered slightly as Anakin rose.
"I offer you everything," he gasped, as Anakin strode calmly towards him, cloak billowing out like the wings of some vengeful angel, as black as the Dark Side. "Take it!"
Anakin's eyes were so dark as to appear black, staring down into Palpatine's own.
The blue beam that pierced the Chancellor's heart, however, was Light incarnate.
"I do love him," were the final whispered words that Palpatine heard, "Which is why I can't."
There were tears on the boy's cheeks. Interesting….
Even Sith Lords can make mistakes.
Palpatine's was fatal.
-----
Anakin surveyed the perfectly clear sky with an attitude of disgust, blinking as the sun's ferocious rays beat down on him, refracting from the metal lines of his pod-racer. The Malastare race was about to start so, in theory, he was supposed to be checking his machine for any defects or signs of sabotage before the course began. Distractions in such an endeavour were synonymous with certain, and often painful, death. A pilot was supposed to be focused: on his machine, on the course, on winning. And on survival, if there was room for that as well.
He could only think of Obi-Wan.
Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, with his auburn hair that caught the highlights of the Coruscanti sun, his fierce eyes that were bluer than the seas of Mon Calamari. Obi-Wan…
"Damn it," he muttered. The race was about to start, the names of the daring – and suicidal – pilots being announced in three languages over the com-speaker. His name came up, a roar from the crowd answered. No doubt his varying dangerous exploits were being dissected in minute detail by a hundred thousand enthusiasts. Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and General of the Clone Wars, survivor of Geonosis, destroyer of Darth Sidious.
He still wasn't sure he belonged here…all of those other escapades had been carried out alongside Master Kenobi.
And things had not ended well between them.
It had started with Padmé. After the death of Palpatine at his hands, and later, Grievous, the Jedi Council had unanimously voted to award him the rank of Master, to make his seat on the Council permanent.
He had refused that honour. Although Padmé wouldn't understand, he knew that he didn't really deserve it.
"Respectfully, Masters, this Council has included only twelve of the most deserving and affluent Jedi for thousands of generations. The Chancellor had no right to insert a new seat, nor did I have any right to accept it. I humbly offer you my apologies, and I will anxiously await the day when I can truly claim a place here on merit."
Master Yoda's ears had lifted in surprise during the short speech, Anakin noticed, though he kept his eyes respectfully downcast in a semi-bow. He had been far too arrogant in the past for his own good; he could see that now, so clearly. He wanted to earn the regard of the Masters, not demand it as his right. He had no right to do so.
It had taken him so long to see it. To see how much his damned arrogance hurt those around him… had hurt Obi-Wan. He had been so caught up in his righteous indignation, in his persistence that he was the victim, that he hadn't heard the wisdom of his Master beyond Palpatine's lies.
Not until Obi-Wan had nearly died trying to save him. In that single, excruciating instant, when he had felt the agony of his Master though his Force Bond, had seen the sick, twisted delight on Palpatine's face, he had seen what he would become. What awaited him if he followed that tempting path to the Dark Side.
A monster. Palpatine was nothing more than a monster, and he had tried to turn Anakin into a pale reflection of himself.
Anakin had almost let him. Had almost allowed Obi-Wan to die because of that. He would spend the rest of his life making amends if needs be. No, he didn't deserve recognition for destroying Palpatine… not when it had been Obi-Wan who had inadvertently saved him.
Slowly, the venerable old Master inclined his head. "Wiser, you have become, young Skywalker. Saved many Jedi, you have. No reward, do you desire?"
Anakin considered. He could ask for anything, anything in the world, and it would be granted to him. A new Delta-7, more comfortable rooms in the Temple – if they existed, that is – or… special dispensation to marry?
No. When he stepped back from himself, let go of the moment to hear his heart, there was only one thing that he desired above all else, but it wasn't something that anyone could give to him.
He smiled faintly, raising his eyes to meet Yoda's large, brown ones. "I did only my duty, Masters. I need no reward."
Yoda closed his eyes, nodding silently. Master Windu slowly leaned back in his seat, interlacing his fingers and regarding the young Jedi with a new sense of esteem. There was no deception coming from Anakin that he could detect, nor did Yoda seem to find anything amiss. The boy actually meant it.
Anakin waited patiently under the weight of their regard, sneaking a sidelong look at his Master, always so studiously impassive in these meetings.
Obi-Wan was smiling at him, eyes bright with respect and pride.
(You've done well, Anakin.)
The words that flowed through the Master-Padawan bond that still joined them made his heart leap. He could feel his cheeks flush with gratification, as though he was still ten years old, fighting to earn a kind word from his unyielding Master. Those words were so simple, but they spoke volumes to his heart. They were all the reward he would ever need.
But Padmé….
"You could have told them, Ani; you're the saviour of the galaxy, a hero! I think they would have understood."
He had never noticed before how she paced around her apartments when she was nervous, how she twined her fingers together and shot him accusing looks. Obi-Wan was always so still when he argued with Anakin, forcing the younger Jedi to plant his feet, to take a stance and defend it. Padmé's constant motion was making him almost dizzy….
"It would have been wrong, Padmé. They offered me their respect, and that's the reward I wanted. To request something that is completely forbidden to us-"
She paused by the windows, fingering some knickknacks from her home world of Naboo, biting the inside of her lip as though working her way through her next argument. He had never before realised how the quarters were still very much hers, even though they had been married for three years. Jedi had no possessions, of course, so he would never be able to compare with the clutter of her souvenirs… but sometimes it felt as though his personality hadn't even made a dent in this sumptuous place.
"But they would have said yes."
Anakin sighed in exasperation, pushing forward from leaning against the wall. "And it would have been wrong! Why don't you understand that, Padmé? It would have been wrong of me to ask of them something that ordinarily would have been unthinkable. It would have been an abuse of trust, of power. You're a politician, you should understand that!"
"Ani-"
"Don't call me that. I'm not ten any longer, Padmé, please."
"You need to relax; you've had a hard few months. When you're feeling better, you can go back to the Council and -"
Gently, he took her hands in his, staring deep into her wide hazel eyes. "No. I won't." She was so fragile, so breakable in her overdone robes and wide, liquid eyes. A porcelain doll, like the lines of miniatures she had accumulated.
A Jedi had no such possessions.
"Anakin-"
His full name sounded so awkward on her lips when she said it, the syllables sounding clumsy and flat. When had he first noticed that? When had he realized that she was trying to mother him as well as be his wife?
"Padmé, if you're going to force me to choose between the Jedi and you –"
"With me, you'll have a family, Anakin!"
Yes he would; the swell of her pregnant belly was obvious now, even under the numerous, starched layers of fabric. He would be a father if he stayed with Padmé, he would gain a wonderful child, and lose his Jedi commission. He would gain a family… and lose everything that had defined his life. He would gain love in the eyes of a child, and lose all esteem in the eyes of his companions.
He would lose the Jedi, lose his freedom. He would lose Obi-Wan.
He studied their intertwined fingers, capturing her smaller hands easily between his own. That last thought, the loss of his Master, was a palpable, physical pain that ate away at his heart. When had his feelings changed so much?
"Ani?"
He reluctantly lifted his eyes to meet hers, to let her see the truth that lay therein.
When had he stopped loving her?
"The Jedi are my family, Padmé. I'm so sorry."
After Padmé returned to Naboo, it was really only a matter of time.
Although his Master would ardently deny the fact, he had never fully regained his health after being held captive and tortured by Asajj Ventress. The fight with Palpatine had weakened him further, lending a fragile aspect to his once immovable power. Anakin found himself constantly watching him, ready to help Obi-Wan out whenever he could (while trying to avoid any overt appearance of doing just that). Obi-Wan's flaw as a Jedi was his hubris. He would not take well to having a nursemaid of any sort.
So Anakin had made up excuses to spend time with him, to maintain their deep connection at a time when he knew he should be taking on a Padawan of his own. It just felt… wrong, somehow. He wanted to be near Obi-Wan.
He should have pulled out when he had the chance. When the casual, knowing looks they exchanged deepened in intensity and meaning. When the sparks that flew between them at every accidental contact were almost palpable. When the tension between them grew hot enough to melt durasteel.
He should have escaped then, before it was too late.
'It was a mistake to come here.'
That was Anakin's first thought as he stepped into the 'fresher room on finishing his workout. He had been working hard, as he always did, nowadays. Staying so close to Master Kenobi's side was to invite tensions that couldn't be so easily released, now that Padmé had been gone for almost a month. He still couldn't bring himself to buying release on the lower levels of Coruscant, though he knew it was a viable option. No, that would be a betrayal somehow. A betrayal of the lover he desired but couldn't have.
He compensated by pushing his body beyond the limits of its endurance, training for hours on end, until he was too exhausted for anything other than sleep. Today had been no exception; after four hours of unrelenting lightsaber practice, sweat plastered his dark blonde curls flat against his head, creating a silken sheen over his skin. He had dispensed with his tunic, and revelled in the cool damp air from the refresher room against his bare skin. Soon he would be able to close his eyes and relax under the pounding caress of hot water, soothing the aches and pains of his muscles….
Except that Obi-Wan was there, towelling his hair idly as he stepped from the 'fresher. Suddenly the room seemed much hotter than it had only moments before. Anakin caught his breath.
His Master, clad only in a towel draped discreetly about his waist, froze as well, slowly lowering his arms and letting the other piece of fabric fall to the floor. His hair was deliciously tousled, Anakin noted, unable to stop staring. Obi-Wan returned the lingering look, gaze wandering over Anakin's bare upper body for a brief moment before locking onto his eyes.
Anakin felt constrained in his own skin, nervous and jumpy. He wasn't sure whether he was happy or supremely disappointed that he hadn't arrived a few minutes earlier, when Obi-Wan would still have been in the shower, sans the terrycloth protection of his modesty. Water still dripped from his Master's bare skin, running in rivulets down his jaw, over his chest.
Anakin stepped forward, twitching his hips a tad more than necessary, just to see Obi-Wan tremble. With a mildly reproving look, Anakin bent down slowly to pick up the fallen towel before it got completely soaked from lying on the floor. Wordlessly, he held it out to Obi-Wan, close enough to see the steam rising in faint wisps from his Master's skin. Close enough to trace the line of every water droplet as they snaked their way down across his chest.
Close enough to….
Anakin didn't know who moved first. Suddenly they were kissing, fervently, passionately, the dammed-up emotions of three years and more being released in one mindless torrent. Anakin cursed that fact that he had opted to wear his tight black pants, they were a bitch to wriggle out of in a hurry.
Obi-Wan's towel was quite a different story, of course.
"Anakin," the older Jedi murmured against his lips, back arching slightly as his arms entwined around Anakin's neck.
"Anakin..."
He could only sigh in response, moving his lips from dancing with Obi-Wan's own to trace along that elegant neck, to nibble at the delicious hollow of his throat. He pressed his hips forward against Obi-Wan's, grinding up against his Master just to hear that delicious, throaty moan once again….
"Anakin, stop."
No, he didn't want to, he wanted this, wanted to wrap himself around his Master's body, to insinuate himself into his spirit and mind, until the Jedi was as mad about him as he was for Obi-Wan.
"Anakin…" More insistent, but he didn't want to hear; he crushed his lips against his friend's again, forcing him to silence, sending them both down a violent dark spiral of desire. His hands moved down Obi-Wan's skin, tracing little patterns with his fingernails, feeling the startled gasp in response. They toyed with the pleasant fabric of the towel, enjoying the difference between the ridged fabric, and the smoothness of skin underneath…
"Anakin!" This time, a strangled squawk of surprise.
Then hands on his chest, pushing him away, driving him backwards. No…he wanted, he…
Anakin blinked, clearing some of the fogs of lust from his mind to see Obi-Wan, cheeks flushed, and breathing heavily, glowering at him.
"Anakin, stop," he said with quiet finality, pushing away the long strands of his mussed hair that fell over his eyes. "This isn't… this isn't right. The Code, Anakin –"
He growled softly. "To Sith with the Code, Obi-Wan! You can't tell me that you don't-"
Obi-Wan looked pained. "No, I do, Anakin. And that's the problem. We're Jedi, Anakin, and held as an example by all beings of the galaxy. It's not an easy life, but we both chose it, Anakin. It's not a commitment to be taken lightly."
"The why didn't you tell your precious Council about me and Padmé?"
Obi-Wan's resolute expression faltered. "Because, Jedi or no, I'm still human, Anakin. I'm not immune to emotion."
(And I love you.)
The words he didn't say echoed between them.
Anakin moved towards him, cupping Obi-Wan's chin in one hand, tilting it up slightly so their eyes locked.
"Anakin, please."
He knew in that instant, that he had won. If he kissed Obi-Wan again, there would be no struggles, no moral arguments. There would be only the two of them. His Master had never pleaded with him for anything, had never surrendered his will so effectively. Anakin could ignore him, could take what he wanted –
- And permanently damage all their years of trust, destroy their friendship, and ruin their working relationship forever. No matter how much the desire was mutual; to pursue it at this moment would be rape, pure and simple.
It was still a hard choice. He held Obi-Wan's eyes for a few moments longer, trying ineffectively to ignore the heat from his body, the well-defined muscles that contoured the Jedi Master's slim frame.
Damn.
He turned away, feeling with shame the wave of Obi-Wan's relief. His Master hadn't been sure about what he would say. He hadn't known, himself. The room was suddenly too confining, he needed to leave. He couldn't look at Obi-Wan, couldn't let his Master see the self-disgust in his eyes.
He needed to get out, to get away from Coruscant. To put some distance between himself and the object of all his desires. Well… the Council owed him some time off, anyways.
He left without consulting his Master, taking perverse pleasure from the knowledge that Obi-Wan would worry about him. He had left without saying goodbye.
The starting lights winked green, and Anakin punched the thruster-bars forward, sending maximum power to the rear engines. The pod shot forward in a cloud of dust, and his mind, mercifully, let go of the memories that had haunted him the past few days. Dirt flew up from the sandy track, coating his face and winnowing its way into his skin, covering his cheeks, forehead, and mouth.
It still couldn't quite drown out the taste of Obi-Wan.
-----
"Anakin, stop."
Obi-Wan wondered idly if it would be possible to die of sheer self-loathing. Why had he said that? It hadn't been what Anakin had wanted; it certainly hadn't been what he had wanted. Completely the opposite, in fact. No, he had been somehow obliged to once again be the perfect Jedi Master. Answering to the nebulous air of mystique and the unrelenting archaic rules that bound the Jedi Order together, as though he was a youngling fearful of being discovered sneaking into the holofims.
Honestly, sometimes he still felt like such a child. He had been hiding, keeping that layer of propriety between himself and Anakin, because without it…? Without it, he didn't know who he was. It was a terrifying notion.
Mace was looking at him oddly again, he noted. His emotions were probably showing on his face more than he had thought. He had been thinking a lot about Anakin recently, more and more as the weeks passed since his companion had left the halls of the Jedi Temple.
It had been only twelve days… it felt like an eternity.
Obi-Wan blinked sharply, drawing himself more upright in his chair, and trying to focus back in on the meeting. Sometimes he wondered whether the skinny Master Yarael Poof ever shut up. His droning voice was enough to send Obi-Wan to sleep.
Anakin would never let you live it down if you did that...
But that was the whole problem. Anakin wasn't here.
Force, but he missed him. He needed Anakin more than he would care to admit… his memory was still foggy when it came to what had happened on Rattatak what Ventress had done to him. It was better to forget, to let his body and mind heal.
Except that they weren't. Without Anakin close to him, asleep in the next room, he had been waking from nightmares, screaming his throat raw, drenched in sweat. Fear leaving a metallic taste in his mouth. He was frightened without Anakin near, frightened as his body seemed to fail him more and more with each passing day, as it had done since his return from captivity. His fluid movements were beginning to lack their customary grace, his vision would blur periodically. He had blacked out twice in the past week…
If Anakin were with him….
Mace was staring at him again, and belatedly Obi-Wan realized that the room had fallen silent. Damn. Master Poof must have asked him a question, and he hadn't been paying attention….
Mace's hand on his shoulder made him look up, startled. When had the other Jedi moved? Had he blacked out again?
There was a strange taste in his mouth, harsh and sickening. Touching his hand to his lips, he was shocked to find that his fingers came away red.
Blood.
Mace was talking to him; detached, he could see the powerful man's lips moving, his face close to Obi-Wan's own. He couldn't concentrate, couldn't make out the words.
PAIN!
It screamed though him suddenly, making his back arch, his neck snapping backwards sharply, every muscle tight enough to tear in half. He heard a scream, realizing as blood choked him, filling his lungs, that it was his voice. Behind the red lights that washed his vision, he could see the thin, cruel smile of Asajj Ventress.
The lights spun, and he was on his back on the cool floor of the Council Chambers. Someone was gripping his hand tightly as his body spasmed beyond his control.
Painpainpainpainpain!
Another scream, hoarse and choking, filled the air.
Mace….His friend's dark eyes were concerned, and Yoda, looking down on him, seemed so severe…. Had Anakin done something to upset the Council? Was Master Qui-Gon defying their orders again? Had he not passed his Jedi Trial after all?
'Losing himself, he is…'
The voices came down at him from so far away. He could feel the fierce tremors shaking every muscle in his body, threatening to tear him in half.
But his mind was far away, travelling across the distance of the stars on the bond that held him close to the one person who mattered….
(Anakin…Anakin, please, I need you…)
Another fiery burst of agony that tore a final scream from his throat.
(ANAKIN!)
There was barely a flicker of reply, a brief moment of awareness, before their connection was severed.
----
'Anakin….'
He shook his head sharply, dispelling the memory of his Master's voice from that last encounter. He needed to focus now; he was in the lead, on the final lap.
'Anakin, please…'
His Master had sounded so weak at that moment, so far removed from the grounding rock of strength that Anakin had clung to for his whole life. It was… disturbing, to know that Obi-Wan was still afraid of him at times. Even though he would die before he harmed a single hair on his Master's head.
Focus! Sith, but he had almost crashed on the turn. He needed to concentrate. Concentrate. Obi-Wan was fine, the faint tingling through their Force-bond, the slight echo of wrongness was only because they had been apart for a while. He would have to get used to it; they both would. On his return to the Temple, Anakin was going to take a Padawan Learner. He would remove himself completely from Obi-Wan's life if he couldn't share fully in that life.
Obi-Wan wasn't in trouble. The quiet hurts he was feeling through their connection had been going on for some time. Ever since Ventress. Since Palpatine. He had been there to look out for Obi-Wan afterwards, so his Master would be fine.
Except you're not there now…
No.
Concentrate on the race. Focus.
Except his name was being hailed over the speakers, a Malastarian waving his racer to the side as he passed through a check-point. Red flags, urgent faces, telling him to stop, now. Stop racing.
Bloody Sith Hell, Anakin swore in his mind, seeing three other races zip by him. The race was lost, because of these damnable aliens and their inability to wait for ten minutes….
The com-link they handed him had an image of Master Windu, looking more severe than usual.
Anakin forced his voice to sound light, although inside he was seething. "I should get you a timetable of the race schedules, Master," he said flippantly, leaning against his racer, "so you would know when not to contac-"
"You need to return to the Temple, Anakin."
He raised his eyebrows, smiling in disbelief. "I'm sorry Master, I was under the impression that I had time off..?"
"It's Obi-Wan."
The Malastarian retrieved the fallen comlink, shielding his eyes against the cloud of dust and exhaust. No wonder that Jedi boy had been the odds-on-favourite to win… he had never seen anything move that fast before in his life.
END PART 1
Well, I hope you all like the fic so far! Bwahahahah, Obi-angst and shower scenes! I need to put this in ALL of my fics! Shower sequences between two sexy Jedi! YAY!
Ahem.
(Jedi mind trick hand-movement) You will leave a review for Xtine. (er...please?)