Chapter Text
Nothing felt quite real anymore.
Obi-Wan knew that time was passing, the sun and the moons turned day to night, and the Naboo were rebuilding. Life was moving on, but Obi-Wan couldn’t, eternally frozen in the split-second when he was still holding onto his Master’s soul.
Even though he could feel the tattered remains of the bond he used to share with Qui-Gon, the fraying ends the living proof that Qui-Gon had been taken from him so cruelly, Obi-Wan couldn’t actually make himself believe it.
He had watched his Master’s body burn, sparks rising into the night sky as the Force welcomed its wild spirit child home. He had stood right next to little Anakin Skywalker and held his hand when he asked after his uncertain future. It was strange how not even his coat had been able to warm him, but Anakin’s hand, so small in his own, had made sure that Obi-Wan wouldn’t turn into ice.
The Force felt so much less vibrant to Obi-Wan; even with Anakin, a star forced into the body of a child, around, all he felt was emptiness. Obi-Wan hadn’t been aware of how much space in his mind had been occupied by his Master. Now Obi-Wan was staring into an empty grave where he knew he used to be able to find his Master’s reassurance.
Qui-Gon Jinn was dead and killing the Sith Lord hadn’t brought him back.
If anything, killing the Sith had only worsened his state of mind. The threat had to be eliminated, but Obi-Wan hadn’t killed him in defense of himself or others. He had killed him because he had been blinded with anger and grief. The emotions clung to him; he couldn’t release them into the Force no matter how many hours he spent meditating.
He loathed to stand in front of the Council when he was still so shaken up. He was meant to be better, be a stronger Jedi, but he only managed to feel like a collection of flaws even his Master hadn’t been able to smooth out.
Obi-Wan still needed to plead to the Council for Anakin’s training, but knowing how much he looked like a hollow shell of himself, he strongly doubted they would let him.
It would be the right decision as well. Obi-Wan could recognize that he was nowhere near ready to be anyone’s Master. Obi-Wan hadn’t even been knighted, though he doubted he would remain a Padawan after he had defeated the first Sith in centuries.
He didn’t look forward to the ceremony. For years he had thought himself not capable enough, and yet Qui-Gon had insisted that he train Anakin.
Not any other Jedi, it had to be Obi-Wan. He had entrusted Anakin to him, saying in fewer words than ever that he had thought Obi-Wan ready for his trials. This enraged Obi-Wan in a decidedly new way he hadn’t even known he could experience. If his Master’s faith in him had been so grand, why hadn’t Qui-Gon just said that to him at least once?
It would have been enough if his Master had said so only once, honestly, to Obi-Wan. He wouldn’t have asked for anything more.
But the Force hadn’t willed it. Obi-Wan had been taught to carry burdens larger than himself and now had to ensure that Anakin’s fate didn’t slip through his hands like sand.
Regardless, Anakin’s training was his Master’s dying wish, and Obi-Wan would ensure that it was fulfilled.
He was thankful that the Chancellor’s election had taken a little longer than previously anticipated. The Jedi Council hadn’t been able to leave before the Chancellor was elected and as such, Obi-Wan had won two additional weeks to find some semblance of peace before he had to physically present himself to them. The holocalls had been terrible enough already, grief hanging in the air like smog.
The funeral pyres still hadn’t let up even though the Naboo burned their dead within two days, lest their spirit wouldn’t find peace. The Jedi had their own traditions, but Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to think of them when the Queen had asked him about the funeral arrangements for Qui-Gon. The entire procedure had seemed unreal. He had barely been able to recall the words with which he had to send off his Master.
Staying on Naboo, in the Palace of Theed, was unsettling. They were surrounded by the aftermath of the battle, everyone was busy, and the palace managed to establish only a few peaceful corners among the hurrying of its inhabitants.
The room given to Obi-Wan and Anakin opened up to the big and vast gardens of the palace. Parts of them had been destroyed in the attacks, but largely the gardens were still intact. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure why they had been given this room. Truthfully, it was Anakin who had led Obi-Wan to their dwellings and Obi-Wan hadn’t questioned it.
He didn’t know whether the Queen had assigned them these rooms, though he hoped not, for Queen Amidala was already swamped with work. She shouldn’t have to concern herself with such petty matters as well and he only dared to hope that Anakin hadn’t gone to bother her for this.
Obi-Wan hadn’t seen much of him while trying to confront his emotions and release them to the Force. The little boy had dutifully shown up for every meal, carrying a tray that was filled with an innumerable amount of fruits, of which Obi-Wan recognized only some.
Anakin talked without taking a break during their meals, making up for Obi-Wan’s silence, and then he quickly scrambled away again. The boy was usually covered in some sort of oil, so Obi-Wan assumed he was working with the pilots, helping with the cleanup or making himself useful in some other way. Obi-Wan was glad that the people of Naboo took care of Anakin. They were thankful for their little hero.
The Jedi who had fought one attacker seemed much less important to the boy that had stopped the entire fleet and Obi-Wan could not put into words how thankful he was to be out of the spotlight.
The day the Council arrived, Obi-Wan attempted to steady himself in the Force once more, then he went to meet them. As he walked through the palace, perhaps subconsciously hoping to waste more time, he took notice of how much cleaner the halls were already. The people he crossed paths with either ignored him or sent him curious looks before rushing to return to their duties.
Obi-Wan hoped that his appearance reflected the balance, peace, and calm he was unable to find. He had carefully cleaned his robes and redone his Padawan braid for what would likely be the last time. Qui-Gon used to smile at how neat Obi-Wan always kept it, exceptional even amongst his fellow Padawans. The braid had meant more to Obi-Wan than he could put into words. It was the proof that he hadn’t been discarded, sent away like a failure, despite the Force’s loud screaming.
Obi-Wan had always known that he was meant to be a Jedi Knight. Perhaps by losing his Master so harshly, he was paying for his impatience.
The Council members who had made the trip to Naboo were Master Yoda, Master Windu, and Master Mundi. None of them would be easy on Obi-Wan, nor allow him even one misstep. Master Windu especially was bound to study him critically. His in-depth knowledge of the Dark Side would possibly reveal how unsettled Obi-Wan still was.
Obi-Wan didn’t want to lie to them about his mental state. He just needed them to trust him to improve quickly. Before he stepped into the meeting room that had been set aside for them, Obi-Wan took a deep breath.
Trust in the Force.
He opened the doors to the chamber, closed them behind him, and did a perfect bow as he’d been taught as a youngling. “Masters.”
“Padawan Kenobi,” Master Windu said, turning away from Master Mundi.
The three Masters must have been deep in discussion before he had entered. When Obi-Wan allowed himself to look into their eyes, he saw deep sadness, regret, and worry, the latter obviously for him. This discussion, if they even were to allow it, would be hard-fought-for.
“Grieve with you, we do, Obi-Wan,” Master Yoda. “In the Force, Master Jinn may guide us.”
“Thank you, Master,” Obi-Wan said. He hoped his voice sounded steady to them because to himself, it only rang like glass breaking on the ground, fracturing.
“You have done Master Jinn a great honor by defeating the Sith,” Master Windu said. “And the galaxy as a whole. For that, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Council grants you the rank of Knight.”
Even though Obi-Wan had expected to be Knighted, his heart still jumped in surprise at actually hearing those words. It was a logical step. Obi-Wan had defeated the Sith Lord and there really wasn’t much that Obi-Wan could still learn from an unfamiliar Master until his possible Knighting.
And yet, his mind protested. He had failed to save his Master and he had been incapable of defeating the Sith with a calm mind. The anger Obi-Wan had fought to get under control since his youth had surfaced with newfound ferocity and he had lashed out violently. There had been no reason for him to give the Sith such a brutal death, a macabre one, the kind that gave Jedi the reputation as living weapons in some parts of the galaxy.
They were supposed to be kind, even to their enemies, but Obi-Wan hadn’t wanted to be kind to this shadowy demon.
“I am honored,” Obi-Wan replied and fought the instinct to tug at his Padawan braid. He couldn’t bring himself to accept their rank they wanted to give him in earnest. His fight against the Sith may pass as a trial to everyone who hadn’t been there to witness it in person, but Obi-Wan knew that it wasn’t enough. Besides, a Padawan always had to fulfill their Master’s mission and Obi-Wan was not finished with his yet.
“Obi-Wan, if you want to speak, you may,” Ki-Adi said.
Obi-Wan centered himself. He had to be calm for this, make use of those fine speaking skills he had been forced to learn when his Master’s mind tricks hadn’t been as secure as they’d hoped.
“Masters, I wish to inquire about Anakin’s future. The boy keeps busy,” likely to avoid panicking about his lack of knowledge, “but he is unsure.”
“Want to train him, you do?” Yoda asked.
“I do not presume that I may train him,” Obi-Wan stated, honing politeness as a weapon. He had promised Qui-Gon that he would see Anakin trained. There was no way he would let anybody else, people who might not even want Anakin around in the first place, determine his fate. Obi-Wan had a duty to fulfill and he was not one to shy away from it.
“You are your Master’s student,” Mace said, his voice grave, exhausted as Obi-Wan had never seen him.
As much as Qui-Gon and Mace had argued, Obi-Wan had always gotten the sense that they were close friends. They enjoyed tearing each other’s arguments to shreds until they had to prepare a meal together and eat so that their mouths would be occupied by something that was not arguing.
“Qui-Gon was an excellent Master,” Obi-Wan replied. “I see your words as a compliment.”
“They are,” Mace assured him. “But be reminded that Qui-Gon also was always ready to give more than he had. The Council has discussed young Skywalker’s case extensively and we have decided that he will not be accepted into the Order.”
“What?” Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the word from falling from his lips in pure shock. Surely they were kidding. It had become more than obvious how powerful Anakin was. “But Anakin is the Chosen One. He needs to be trained, lest he becomes a danger to himself. Certainly, you must see it. Qui-Gon believed he’d balance the Force. We can’t just leave him here after taking him from his homeworld.”
Obi-Wan felt his distress grow, coloring his words and turning his well-thought-out arguments into shreds. “I promised Qui-Gon I’d see to his training. It was his dying wish.”
Mace sighed and his expression softened. “And it was not Qui-Gon’s place to ask this of you. He was your Master. He was meant to guide you, not to leave you someone in need of your guidance.”
Obi-Wan’s thoughts raced through his mind faster than any ship could travel hyperspace. He had to think of a solution and do so quickly.
“Is it not one of our tenets that you’ve never truly finished learning and that you need to teach another to truly understand the Force?” Obi-Wan intersected. “Teaching Anakin—”
“Is a task that will demand a lot from you, Obi-Wan,” Ki-Adi said kindly.
Obi-Wan loathed their tone. He wished they’d react as he did, be cold and angry that they had left a child, who should have been part of their Order for years already, to suffer somewhere in the Outer Rim. Once he had realized Anakin’s circumstances, he had almost wanted to return to Tatooine, just to see who else they had lost to crime, which children they ought to grieve in their halls. It was an offense of the highest level, yet all the Masters reacted as if nothing was to be done about it.
“I will leave,” Obi-Wan threatened. “If you won’t accept Anakin into the Order, I will train him on my own.”
At this point, Obi-Wan would even settle for another training Anakin, or the boy being allowed to enjoy a few more years in the crèche before anybody could pick him as a Padawan. It would probably help Anakin to get more time to adjust to temple life in general. Obi-Wan could always negotiate new terms later, but that only worked as long as Anakin was part of the Order.
If his own membership had to be wagered for it, then so be it. People always thought Qui-Gon was the reckless half of their duo, but that assessment was as correct as thinking Coruscant was in Wild Space. Obi-Wan’s one advantage was coming across as just slightly less insane and therefore having an easier time convincing people that his plans weren’t as crazy as they sounded.
“We will not stop you if you want to leave to train Anakin,” Mace said. “We are aware that the Force sometimes calls us elsewhere, but I do ask you to reconsider what you are actually saying, Obi-Wan. You hardly know the boy and you still want to give everything up for him?”
“That’s what being a Jedi is about,” Obi-Wan replied. “Self-sacrifice.”
The Masters were silent and Obi-Wan was half-convinced he could take his Master’s lightsaber from his belt, hand it to them straight away and leave. Obi-Wan would never stop being a Jedi, he treasured their tenets and believed in them, but if he had to leave the Order for this, he would do as the Force demanded. He didn’t need a lightsaber to be a Jedi. Their weapon was just the flashiest part. The Force alone was enough. It provided for everything.
Obi-Wan was sure that he could teach this to Anakin.
“We have sworn to protect the galaxy against all threats and to spread peace; you are right in this,” Ki-Adi conceded. “Sometimes this means that we have to put our needs behind that of others. However, this does not mean blindly sacrificing yourself for something you believe in just because you haven’t considered it properly yet.”
“There is nothing else to consider,” Obi-Wan argued. He wasn’t going to budge on this. He couldn’t. He didn’t know what he would hold onto if not the future he had promised his Master.
Throughout the whole discussion, Master Yoda had been suspiciously quiet. It surprised Obi-Wan when the old Master finally did speak up again; he had forgotten his presence entirely.
“Want to see young Skywalker as a Knight, you do?” Yoda asked Obi-Wan carefully, his tone free of judgment.
Obi-Wan didn’t see what that had to do with anything. This was not about what Obi-Wan wanted, but what had to be done. “He is the Chosen One. It is fate.”
“A boy, he is,” Yoda corrected him. “Know if he truly is the Chosen One, I do not. You do not either, merely believe it. Left there, what is, then?”
Confusion took hold of Obi-Wan. “I don’t understand.”
“A child, Anakin Skywalker is, and see him as anything more, we cannot. Seen terrible things, he has. Experienced so much suffering in his short life, he has. Equipped to help him, we are not. Prepared to do so, you are not. Hard and full of sacrifice, the life of a Jedi is, but needless sacrifices, we do not make.”
At this, Yoda did look grief-stricken. Obi-Wan had never really thought about the Grandmaster as someone who grieved. He was always kind and good-hearted, attempting to cheer you up when you thought you couldn’t handle the noise of the world outside of the temple. But Master Yoda had also lived longer than any other member of the Order, had seen more people die, buried more.
Perhaps his grief was something Obi-Wan just couldn’t understand at the moment.
“Ask a child, from whom so much has been taken, to give even more we cannot when he does not know what that means. Teach him this, we perhaps could learn, but fear we’d harm him more if we treat him differently from other younglings, I do. Mind healers we have, but not such who can help Anakin. Kinder it would be of us to ensure he has a home in a place where people can help him. Already agreed to take him in, Queen Amidala has. Given the help we cannot provide, he will be.”
Obi-Wan could see the Grandmaster’s reasoning. The few days he had spent with Anakin had already been illuminating to the boy’s previous circumstances. Qui-Gon hadn’t mentioned that Anakin had been a slave. It was something Anakin himself had only brought up when he had asked how secure his freedom was without Qui-Gon around. It had taken him minutes to stutter out the question, uncertainty and fear shaking him.
Obi-Wan hadn’t been prepared to answer his inquiry adequately. His words had felt too clumsy, but they had been enough of a reassurance for Anakin that he was indeed free.
Anakin was amazed at the concept of bathing and having so much water around himself, accessible for all. He had taken to eating fruits and drinking all kinds of beverages, trying out a new tea every day. Those tasks had been so easy to deal with, comparatively. He could indulge Anakin, but, as much as it pained Obi-Wan to admit it, he didn’t know how to deal with anything beyond that. He had been occupied with the future; details of the present had eluded him. Was he supposed to address the scars on Anakin’s hands, or worse, those large welts on his back that looked like they’d come from a whip?
Obi-Wan could read up on how to do that, figure out which mind healers to talk to, and how to address it, but he would probably need more years to prepare for it than he had. By the time he’d be equipped to teach Anakin, Anakin would be old enough to be knighted himself.
He couldn’t do that to him.
Obi-Wan wanted to protest as he had before, be convinced that he could just take the kid and work it out, but the truth was, he’d fail miserably.
“Mistake this for cruelty, do not,” Yoda continued gently. “Help young Skywalker, we want to. Ensuring he grows up in the right environment, the best way for this is. Meant well, Qui-Gon did, and do good, Anakin wants to. Grow up to be a great man, he will. A Jedi, he need not be for that.”
And that was what it boiled down to in the end. If the Force had a plan for Anakin Skywalker, it would make sure he was set on that path one way or another. And, truly, was Obi-Wan so selfish that for his Master’s last wish, he’d endanger Anakin’s own wellbeing?
“I understand, Masters,” Obi-Wan replied, feeling only a little like he was admitting defeat. He returned to a proper posture, barely having noticed how much he had sunken into himself. “Has anybody told Anakin yet?”
Probably not, not when Obi-Wan was just learning of it now.
“We haven’t,” Ki-Adi said. “Young Skywalker doesn’t know us and we thought it would be more appropriate if you talked to him yourself. However, if you need aid for it, we will guide you.”
Obi-Wan swallowed. “Thank you, Masters.”
He was left with a hollow pit in his heart, his purpose sucked out of him, but he couldn’t allow that feeling to linger. “I will talk with Anakin. Are we going to leave today still?”
“Tonight, we shall leave the Naboo and return to Coruscant,” Mace answered. “We have much to figure out now with the Sith returned and powers within the Senate shifting.”
“I will go inform Anakin of his future then.” Obi-Wan bowed, then turned around to leave. He was only stopped at the last second by Yoda calling out again.
“Think you are failing your Master, do not. Made a difficult decision today, you did. Proud of you, he would be.”
“Thank you, Master Yoda.” Obi-Wan had a hard time believing it, but he would make an honest attempt.
He left the meeting room behind, pretending he wasn’t fleeing it, and headed towards the hangers where Anakin was bound to be now. He’d usually go straight to the kitchens from there before returning to their shared quarters. The other Jedi’s words still rang loudly in mind and no matter how Obi-Wan twisted and turned them, he could not doubt their logic nor get rid of his feelings.
He passed guards and other attendants in the halls who all barely paid him any attention, too caught up in their own work. The relief and stress were heavy in the air, enough that Obi-Wan could taste it. It was no surprise. The people were doing everything they could to rebuild, heal, and prepare for an attack in the courts of Coruscant. The Trade Federation was slippery and the last thing they could possibly want was for some legal complications to show up now.
Once Obi-Wan got to the very busy hangers, it became a little more difficult to spot Anakin. He was small, barely the size of an astromech. Finding him in the busy crowd would be a hassle if not for the Force. Obi-Wan stretched out his senses and let his feet carry him in the direction the Force guided him to. He walked crisscross through the hall, past pilots and engineers hurrying to get everything set up. He found Anakin in the far right corner near one of the more destroyed ships. That really was no surprise; naturally, he’d pick that one to work on. Anakin was sitting on the vessel’s wing, loudly arguing with the blue astromech that had saved them from the Trade Federation when they had first escaped from Naboo. Anakin and R2D2 were an interesting team to observe, trading complaints about the ship’s state. Obi-Wan waited for a few minutes, sorting his thoughts, before he called for Anakin’s attention.
“Anakin!”
The blond boy took his goggles off and searched for Obi-Wan.
“Obi-Wan!” Anakin shouted once he spotted him. Quickly, he jumped down from the ship and crossed the distance to Obi-Wan. Anakin only stopped a few centimeters away from Obi-Wan, stopping himself from tackling Obi-Wan in a hug.
Anakin was a rather tactile child, seeking comfort. Obi-Wan had been hesitant to give it before, unsure of what boundaries to draw, but decided to hold out his hand instead for Anakin to take. Anakin instantly took it, smearing grease all over it.
“Are you having fun?” he asked.
“Yeah!” Anakin replied excitedly. “The pilots let me work on the hyperdrives today before leaving this ship to me. They said I probably won’t be able to fix it and that they’d just trash it, but I told them I could do it and Artoo said he can probably find some specs for me. It’s going to take a while, but it’s still so cool. I’m sure I can fix it. Probably won’t look as pretty as the other ships, but at least you have a small transporter more to use, even if it’s only meant to house four people at max.”
Anakin continued babbling as Obi-Wan steered them out of the hanger and into the kitchen. He let Anakin chatter as they washed their hands and picked up lunch. Anakin, predictably, threw as many fruits and vegetables as possible on his plate and when Obi-Wan didn’t take enough for his taste, he put some more on Obi-Wan’s plate as well. It was rather charming, even if Obi-Wan wasn’t hungry.
They returned to their quarters, Anakin by now having reached the topic of the other great spaceport on the other side of the planet that he really wanted to see in the future because it had a wider variety of ships.
Anakin talked through most of the meal, Obi-Wan only once or twice interrupting to remind Anakin to swallow so he wouldn’t choke. Anakin had overgorged himself on food on the first day, which had ended up giving him a terrible stomach ache. Ever since, he had been a bit more mindful when eating, unless he was absentmindedly rambling, but Obi-Wan also kept a slightly better watch on it.
“And that was my day,” Anakin finished. “And what about you? You were meeting with the other Jedi this morning, right?”
Now hesitance had crept into Anakin’s voice.
This was what Obi-Wan had prepared for, and yet he found it hard to speak.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirmed. “I talked to them about quite a lot of things and one of those was you.”
“And what did they say? Can I—will I be a Jedi?”
Obi-Wan bit his lip. He had thought this would be simpler. He tried to search for a way to make this easier for Anakin to bear, but he couldn’t think of a single phrasing that would soften the blow. Sometimes the truth just had to be said outright. Anakin would appreciate it someday in the future that Obi-Wan had taken him seriously enough to avoid sugarcoating it.
“The Masters of the Order have decided that the Order won’t be a good fit for you.”
“Oh.” Anakin visibly deflated, let his head hang. Oh no. Obi-Wan cringed internally. Couldn’t he have said that in a better way? Any way that didn’t immediately scream, ‘we don’t want you!’
Because they did. Had Anakin been found early, under different circumstances, he’d unquestionably be a part of their Order. This was the real tragedy: that Anakin was not to blame, but the circumstances of his life had denied him this chance. In another life, another time, Anakin Skywalker would be the name of a youngling running through their halls on Coruscant.
This was not that life. As it was now, the Jedi couldn’t be what Anakin needed and his own health took precedent to their wishes.
“We’re not going to just leave you here,” Obi-Wan elaborated. “Queen Amidala, Padmé, has agreed to take you in. You will live with her here in the palace and you will be able to do whatever you want for the rest of your life. You are free, Anakin, and you’ll do great things.”
Obi-Wan could almost picture it. Perhaps ten years from now, he’d hear Anakin’s name again, whispered in the same breath as stories of awe. He was such a smart and kind child, and he deserved all the happiness in the galaxy.
“I want to be a Jedi, though,” Anakin muttered. “And I want to go back to Tatooine and free all the slaves.”
“And that is an admirable goal, Anakin,” Obi-Wan told him. “But you do not need to be a Jedi for that. Fact is, you’re probably more likely to be able to help your people on Tatooine if you learn from Padmé.”
At this, Anakin looked up at him in confusion, the question of how clearly on his lips.
“The Jedi are supposed to help everyone in the galaxy, and we desperately try to help every single person we come across, but we still don’t have the time to focus on one planet alone. We have to ensure that every planet in Hutt space treats its citizens better, not just Tatooine. I’m sure the Naboo will provide you with all the help you need and could want. This is not a setback and this is not you being unwanted. The Force sometimes just sets us on a path we didn’t even know existed before.”
Silence fell upon the room. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure whether Anakin had truly understood his speech. He didn’t know how to say ‘this is for your own good’ without sounding patronizing. He could only hope that Anakin, with all his wit, would gather enough clues from his broken sentences to piece together a coherent picture.
“Do you understand what I mean?” Obi-Wan asked carefully.
Anakin’s brows furrowed as he slowly replied. “I think so? I remember, Master Qui-Gon and you were the only Jedi here to help and you needed more, lots more to help Padmé properly, but there weren’t any more that could have come, right?”
Obi-Wan shook his head. “No, sadly, our numbers are limited. We try our best, but we can also only do so much. Despite what the stories claim, we are not invincible.”
Or his Master’s ashes wouldn’t have disappeared in the wind.
Anakin nodded, then he gifted Obi-Wan with a bright smile. “That’s already doing lots! My mom always says that the biggest problem in the galaxy is that nobody helps each other. So the Jedi have to help lots and lots of people already and you can’t do everything. I’ve been helping the pilots here and I suppose that when I fix all the ships, maybe we can take some and go to Tatooine to help there. I couldn’t do that as a Jedi, right?”
Obi-Wan let out a sigh of relief. Anakin had understood him correctly. “No, unfortunately, a Jedi is not capable of doing that. I’d be delighted to hear about all that you’re planning to do. I have to leave tonight, but if you want, we can keep in contact.”
Actually, it would be a massive relief if they could keep in contact. Obi-Wan wanted to be able to check in on Anakin for his own peace of mind. The transition of losing his Master, losing the apprentice he could have had, and everything else would be much kinder on him if he was assured that Anakin was alright.
“I can give you my comm number for the temple. If you want, you can shoot me a message at any time. It might take a while for me to reply, but I will do my best.”
“Really?” Anakin looked at him through his wide blue eyes. “That would be wizard!”
He jumped up in excitement and quickly ran to get his datapad from the kitchen counter. He returned to Obi-Wan’s side and all but pushed it into Obi-Wan’s hands. “Here! Enter it!”
Obi-Wan smiled, Anakin’s warmth wrapping around him like a blanket. “Alright, alright. Give me a moment.”
Obi-Wan typed in the numbers he had memorized so many years ago when Qui-Gon had first shown him their quarters. “There, that’s it.”
Anakin turned to look at the numbers, muttered them beneath his breath and then put it aside. It wouldn’t surprise Obi-Wan if Anakin had already memorized them. He was exceptionally talented at recalling long strings of numbers.
“Thank you, Obi-Wan.” Anakin smiled brightly at Obi-Wan, with so much security and happiness that Obi-Wan was beginning to doubt his own insecurities.
This was the right choice. “You’re welcome, Anakin.”
Anakin looked like he was hesitating, waiting for something.
They likely wouldn’t see each other for years to come, if they ever did again. Obi-Wan had met so many people on his missions who had ended up becoming important to him, yet he had never experienced this profound sadness and sense of loss at leaving them behind. He and Anakin hadn’t even spent that much time together, and Obi-Wan’s mind had been clouded by his own troubles for most of it, yet he felt inexplicably close to the child. This was their own private goodbye; he could allow lowering his shields.
Obi-Wan opened up his arms and mind, and far quicker than he could realize, Anakin threw himself into his embrace, his mind following along subconsciously. Obi-wan couldn’t recall when he had last hugged somebody, but cradling Anakin with all his warmth and happiness in his arms was as reassuring as having a lightsaber at his side.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, as Obi-Wan packed his meager belongings and separated them from the things Anakin had somehow acquired throughout the past few days.
When it was time for the Jedi to leave, they were seen off by the entire royal court. Anakin stood amongst the handmaidens, who all crowded around him like a group of overprotective sisters. Obi-Wan was glad to see that Padmé had once more switched with Sabé and was the one standing next to Anakin, a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
Anakin would be safe and happy here, and Obi-Wan could return to the temple and face his future there.
This was how it was meant to be.
He ignored the pang in his heart as he stepped up on the ramp and took his place on the ship when they took off. He allowed himself one last glance back at Naboo, then averted his eyes as the planet disappeared into the vastness of space.