Chapter Text
It is dusk on Tatooine, cooler air settling in, providing much needed relief from the blazing suns of the day. Obi-Wan Kenobi, or ‘Ben’ – the alias he’s been reluctant to adopt, sits alone in his empty cave dwelling amongst the endless sands, chewing at his fingertips nervously. He has grown accustomed to being alone. He has grown accustomed to emptiness. He has even grown accustomed to the feeling of anxiousness. But he can’t seem to adjust to the dread that comes with nightfall, despite the more bearable temperatures it brings.
It has been just a little over a year since the rise of the Empire, since the fall of the Jedi, and the loss of his family and of his home. It has been just a little over a year since he’d lost Anakin.
Anakin wasn’t dead, though that would probably be a better alternative, but he was surely gone, now embodied as the evil Sith Lord, Darth Vader. And in truth, that was who Obi-Wan had left to burn on Mustafar, wasn’t it? Vader? But somehow Vader had survived. Obi-Wan had seen the evidence – the frightening visage on a HoloNet report during a day trip to the more populated area of Mos Eisley. Vader lived. But although the Sith ruled the galaxy, hope was not lost. Hope lied within Anakin’s son, and Obi-Wan’s mission was to protect him at all cost.
But just weeks ago, the retired Jedi had risked everything when he’d left exile on Tatooine, left Luke, to chase after remnants of his old life. To chase after what could be potentially be another hope for the galaxy. . .
Ferus Olin.
Obi-Wan had overheard the name being discussed in the local cantina one night; a planetwide lockdown was in place because of a ‘dangerous’ escaped prisoner. . . Ferus. According to the rumor mill, Ferus would break his business partner out of prison next, and Imperial forces would be waiting for him – to capture him and end him. And it would not surprise Obi-Wan if the Empire were to use all of their resources to hunt a lone Jedi. Ferus was one of probably only a handful left.
Ferus wouldn’t have been a target during the purge, because he hadn’t been serving as a Jedi then; he’d left the Order when he was still a Padawan. Anakin had been eighteen at the time. . . more than six years ago. And Obi-Wan knows, Ferus had left the Order, mostly because of Anakin.
The two had been rivals, having rarely gotten along from what Obi-Wan can recall. Anakin held an intense dislike for his fellow Padawan, always furious at his success, rather than finding satisfaction with his own. Ferus could be difficult to digest at times. He was such an immense rule-follower, that he could come across as self-righteous, sometimes even boldly (but hesitantly) correcting his superiors and judging their discretion if it was not ‘by-the-book.’ Anakin, of course, had never been one to want to abide by the manual, and Ferus would often try to direct him. And Obi-Wan’s Padawan did not take kindly to being told what to do – not even by his own Master, much less a Padawan only two years his senior.
Obi-Wan remembers a short period of time where the boys had found common ground – they still did not care for one another, and they did not consider themselves friends, but there was a swift moment in which they had successfully worked together without letting their differences get in the way. Obi-Wan recalls overhearing a discussion between them, and having been filled with pride that their dispute was indeed a discussion and not a fight. This era had also been one when his and Anakin’s relationship had been at its best. The pair had been taken through many hills and valleys throughout their partnership, but Obi-Wan recollects this time as having been a hill. Anakin was seventeen.
Anakin had had his share of struggles in his early teen years – from the conflicts like those with Ferus, to the death of Master Yaddle, for which he felt at fault. It was not always easy for Obi-Wan to make himself available to Anakin’s open heart. Their relationship was complex. Obi-Wan had wanted nothing more than to tell him of his deep affection for him – that the suns rose and moons set with his Padawan; he was everything to him. So, in instances where Anakin made mistakes, it was sometimes hard for Obi-Wan to accept. And likewise, it was always a challenge for Anakin to take criticism, of any kind. Hurt feelings on both sides were common, and it was just as common that these feelings were left undiscussed and unresolved.
But during that particular time, after many months of postponing communication, due to their grueling, yet imperative Jedi duties always taking precedence, Obi-Wan had forced a conversation when his worry over his beloved boy had reached an unsettling summit. Anakin had casually expressed feeling ’torment,’ and it had hit Obi-Wan like a punch below the belt. The idea of Anakin feeling this sort of emotional pain was a personal torment of his own.
And at lending his ear on this sensitive subject, Anakin had suddenly opened up to him like never before. He’d spoken of the burden of his vast and unparalleled connection to the Force, of the pressures of being dubbed the Chosen One. He’d expressed his grief over the insurmountable flood of feelings and emotions that often left him drowning. He had begged his Master to take the pain away, and Obi-Wan was heartbroken that he could not, but vowed that he would always help him, and never leave him. . . but in the end. . .
Time could not stand still, and though Obi-Wan had never felt them better bonded, he eventually found himself in the valley once more. Anakin was struggling again, and his rivalry with Ferus had become worse than it had ever been.
Because of the increasing unrest in the galaxy, the Council had initiated a pilot program which would allow for a Padawan to begin his or her trials sooner – advancing to Knighthood sooner, increasing the number of Jedi available to serve. But for the test run, only one would be chosen, and much to Anakin’s dismay, it was Ferus, and Anakin had been unable to accept that. Obi-Wan had seen the shift; it had started an argument between the two of them. Anakin had been enraged, unwilling to listen to reason. He’d accused Obi-Wan of not supporting him, faulted him for what he deemed a failure in his training. He’d wanted to be the best. He’d wanted to be first, and he did not want to wait.
Immediately following the Council’s decision, a team was deployed to the dreaded, once Sith-inhabited planet of Korriban. Ferus and his own Master, Siri Tachi, had been a part of that team, along with him and Anakin. It was a mission that saw them all forever changed. . .
Padawan Darra Thel-Tanis, one of Anakin’s closest friends, had lost her life in battle. . . prompting Ferus’ resignation from the Order. The incident involved a faulty lightsaber, one that Ferus had illegally repaired without having reported the issue to a Master. This was out of character for someone like Ferus. And Obi-Wan, though he never questioned it, knew Anakin was indirectly involved. But Ferus took the blame, opting to punish himself by walking away from the only life he had ever known. . . “I must go on living. That is my punishment,” Ferus had told him. Obi-Wan would never forget the look of despair in his dark brown eyes, nor the sadness in his quieted voice.
That had been the last time Obi-Wan had seen Ferus, up until recently when he’d gone to rescue him on Bellassa, the planet where Ferus had been residing since leaving the Jedi.
That day, Obi-Wan had been introduced to a totally different Ferus than the one he had known years prior. To begin with, he had greeted Obi-Wan with a hug, a tender hug that had nearly brought the man to tears after more than a year without physical contact. Ferus’ smile had been easy, jokes coming naturally, his speech no longer so formal, and the same was to be said of his posture. Overall, he seemed much more comfortable in his skin. He was relaxed, in spite of the circumstances, a far cry from the uptight boy that had driven his Padawan mad. And Ferus surely wasn’t playing by the rules anymore.
Obi-Wan had learned Ferus and his business partner, Roan Lands, who was also his husband, had founded a group called the Eleven, comprised of local heroes who were dedicated to fighting against the Empire. This, first over Ferus’ Force abilities, was what had drawn the attention of the enemy. He’d ambitiously (and foolishly, in Obi-Wan’s opinion) planned to take down the Empire planet by planet with his small band of rebels. . . and he had hoped for Obi-Wan to join him. And he’d hoped that together, they could find other Jedi to aid in their quest.
Obi-Wan’s adventure with Ferus had uplifted him, given him a new sense of purpose, but he could not stay; he’d gone to help him, and he had, and he had to return to Luke. He wanted to tell Ferus about him, about this mission of his own. He’d wanted to open his heart to him, confide in him, but it was his laden secret to keep. And because Obi-Wan could not disclose the details, Ferus did not understand, and his frustration and upset bothered Obi-Wan more than he’d expected it to. To Ferus, Obi-Wan was a coward in hiding.
They had exchanged words, opposing views, Ferus’ hurt and offended demeanor tearing Obi-Wan apart. It had reminded him of past disagreements with Anakin. Obi-Wan had left Anakin; he did not want to leave Ferus, too, but the Force was guiding them down different paths. Obi-Wan’s mission was to wait. And Ferus had nearly blown a gasket when Obi-Wan had expressed this. Ferus did not want to wait. Ferus wanted to fight. And Obi-Wan admired him for that. . . the way he would’ve admired Anakin, because his impatient Padawan would’ve undoubtedly viewed the situation much the same. What would Anakin think now to see his calculated and careful nemeses leaping into action?
When Obi-Wan had left for the impromptu rescue voyage, he had been eager to see Ferus again, but he could not have predicted the way he would tug at his mortally wounded heart. In a way, Ferus had revived him. For such a long time, he had felt nothing, only numbness. But the turmoil he felt over their separation reminded him that he was still alive. And now that he and Ferus were apart, Obi-Wan was constantly wondering if he was okay.
They had spoken once since Obi-Wan had returned home. He had given Ferus a private frequency on which to contact him. Unfortunately, their brief conversation hadn’t been for pleasure, and when Ferus had shared news about an Inquisitor who was snooping around Polis Massa, the place where Luke and Leia had been born, Obi-Wan had humbly begged him to intervene. . . and Ferus had promised he would – without question – without fully understanding the reason why. . . without knowing of the children, or of what had become of their father. Because Ferus, though having felt a bit abandoned when Obi-Wan had chosen not to fight with him, still trusted him, and Obi-Wan trusted Ferus in return.
But after not having heard anything back in quite some time, Obi-Wan’s worry had begun to steadily rise. So, he’d more often spend his days in the cities of Mos Eisley, listening for new gossip or scouring for the latest holonews reports, hoping to hear anything about Ferus. He’d learned the Inquisitor in question had been taken out of the equation, reported dead on Naboo, resulting in ‘Rebellion Hero: Ferus Olin’ being marched back to prison. It took everything out of Obi-Wan not to rush to the spaceport and chase after him. But Ferus had escaped from prison on more than one occasion; he could do it again, and as Obi-Wan had told him, his mission was to wait, so he waited some more. . . but the more recent cantina chatter was especially troubling.
Ferus was said to be working for the Empire, as a double agent. . . which could only mean one thing: Palpatine – Sidious – had gotten to him. Obi-Wan had warned Ferus that it was the Sith controlling the Empire, and Sidious was no fool; if townsfolk on Tatooine knew that Ferus was working both sides, then he had no doubt the wicked man knew this as well.
Sidious would remember Ferus; he’d once been publicly commended for saving his life. And Vader would remember Ferus, and his hatred for him would’ve only brimmed. Why would they allow an ex-Jedi to work with them? Obi-Wan felt certain of the answer: to use him for their personal gain through the likes of lies and manipulation. It was what the Sith were good for.
Obi-Wan was doing his best to trust that Ferus would be all right. He was strong. He was brave. And he was good, enveloped in the light. Ferus would not fall into their trap. . . the one that he assumes Anakin had once fallen into.
It is daily that Obi-Wan obsesses over the unknown details of Anakin’s fall. He assumes it had something to do with Padmé and the children, but he can’t imagine a scenario in which Anakin’s love for them would’ve driven him towards the hate of others.
But Obi-Wan had witnessed the passion of Anakin’s hatred before – in his anger with Ferus. It was Ferus who had once told Obi-Wan that he’d feared the unconquerable combination of Anakin’s strong will and great power. To what lengths would he go to achieve what he felt right?
In all honesty, Ferus’ analysis had struck a nerve, because Obi-Wan knew it was eerily accurate, but he had defended his Padawan, told Ferus he didn’t understand the magnitude of the hardships Anakin had faced – that his strong will would only be a willingness to do good – to set things right – to stop the hurt. . . physical for others, but perhaps emotional for himself. . .
Obi-Wan had let Ferus think Anakin had died along with the rest of the Jedi. What would he think now to know the truth, to know the identity of Vader? Obi-Wan doesn’t like to think of it himself, but visions of his precious Padawan engulfed in flames, along with the audio of his agonizing screams, are engrained into his brain, a constant loop in his nightmares. And even when he is awake, the look in Anakin’s sorrowful blue eyes, when he’d left him there to die, often haunts him. . . because he’d left him. . . left Anakin. And every day he has to convince himself that those eyes had been gold, and that he’d walked away from Vader and not from Anakin.
Obi-Wan so rarely remembers Anakin when he was still Anakin, the good times outshined. But his reunion with Ferus had halted some of the bad dreams and allowed him a few pleasant ones. Memories have surfaced of his sweet Anakin – the loving, gentle boy, the daring hero of a man. The man whom he had fallen in love with. The man he had never confessed this to. The boy whom he hadn’t been as open with as he should have been. If he could do it all again. . .
But it was too late. And now all he could do was wait. Wait for Anakin’s children to grow and thrive, and lead the rebellion Ferus was starting. Perhaps waiting to join it himself. . . but in the short term. . . waiting to hear from Ferus. . .
Chapter Text
In the beginning, Ferus had made a deal with the devil only to protect his friends – to protect his husband, who was locked up and scheduled for execution. It had seemed so simple; he’d go to Samaria, resolve their technology crisis, then Roan would go free. That was what Sidious had promised.
Ferus hadn’t expected to continue to do his bidding, but there were certain benefits that kept him committed. It would only be for a short period of time. He could work as an imperial agent, be their face of amnesty, but below the surface, he would use his political pardon to gather his own intel. He could make connections with other planets – seek out more of those who were willing to fight. It would be a stepping stone to taking the Empire down.
But things rarely work out as planned.
Vader had not been a pleasure to work with in the least, but there were times when Ferus enjoyed taunting him. It was clear the second-in-command Sith was threatened by him, wanted him out of the picture, but Ferus knew he was safe for now; Sidious wanted him left alive – to continue to use him, quite clearly, but that was fine, because Ferus would just use him in return. . . use every resource available to pit it back against him and his misguided followers.
When Sidious had ordered him back home to Bellassa, to work alongside Vader, Ferus had decided it was to be his last imperial task. The return to his own planet was bittersweet; he hadn’t had to sneak on-world for once, but his fellow Bellassans weren’t eager to welcome him with having arrived on an enemy ship. His once confidants were no longer sure of his loyalty, but it was a comfort to Ferus that Roan would never doubt him or forsake him.
The couple had arranged for a private meeting in their own city of Ussa, at their favorite café – the place where they had first met. Ferus had been fresh out of the Order back then, having just left the Temple mere weeks prior. He had been intensely studying a breakfast menu when Roan parked beside him, wondering what could be so crucial when it came to morning meal. But after a lifetime of food having been placed in front of him, Ferus was overwhelmed with choices, but had narrowed it down to either a muffin or a sweet roll.
Roan had laughed, then asked if he’d considered ordering both. Ferus took the question very seriously, which he’s been told had further charmed his future husband. And when Ferus expressed his unease about a double portion potentially going to waste, Roan respectfully offered to help with the problem. . . They could share, if he wanted the company.
Ferus had been taken aback, but flattered by the tall, broad man with the soulful green eyes and dark, curly hair. He remembers blushing, remembers Roan letting him take the first bites of each pastry, then asking which he’d preferred, not realizing that choosing the muffin would slap him with a lasting nickname that began playful, but morphed into an endearment over time.
Breakfast at the café had turned into lunch at the café, but for the evening, Roan had had a prior engagement to attend a dinner at his parents’ home – to which he invited Ferus along, and Ferus was flummoxed over his instant agreement to meeting the family when he’d hardly met the man. But there was something about Roan that made him feel as if he’d known him his whole life.
Adopted into the Lands clan like one of their own, Ferus’ visit to Bellassa quickly transitioned into a permanent stay. It had brought him solace to find a new place to call home. Leaving the Order had been the most difficult thing he’d ever done in his life. He’d felt aimless the weeks following, wandering from planet to planet, hoping for the Force to guide him – to give him a sign. He knew he’d wanted to continue to serve in some way. What he loved most about being a Jedi was that it allowed him to help people – to protect them. And now he had stumbled into this new life with this special someone who showed the utmost devotion to want to protect him.
Their business plan had been spontaneously adopted during that very first meeting at the café. Roan had taken a peculiarly strong interest in a random concept Ferus had thoughtlessly spat out. It had been a challenge to get started, but Roan had sunk every credit he’d had into making Ferus’ vision a reality.
‘Olin and Lands’ was a protection agency. Their area of expertise was in computer security and records coding. Those in need of their services were those looking to assume new identities, needing to start over, typically after having worked for corrupt corporations and/or having witnessed a crime.
Word of their operation spread, a need for their services increasing as the start of the Clone Wars drew near. . . and when the war began, the noble pair enlisted, but they did not ship out before exchanging vows.
Ferus and Roan continued to run the business in between deployments, and it had continued to thrive up until it was shut down by the Empire, just as the Eleven was uprising. . .
How times had changed from their fast-track beginnings to their bittersweet end in those last moments of bliss in Dorma’s Café. The nostalgia of being back in his husband’s grounding presence had further solidified Ferus’ decision: he was done with the Empire. One final mission. Then, he and Roan would travel to the hidden base Ferus had recently discovered on his journey with Obi-Wan.
The base was a literal rock – an asteroid contained within a force field of an atmospheric storm. So, the location was uncharted and constantly changing, only to be found by beacon; Ferus’ refugee friends, Toma and Raina were there, ready and waiting.
After having been reunited with Obi-Wan, Ferus had been inspired; there were surviving Jedi out there, and he needed to find them. He could take them back to this secret safe haven, and when the time was right, their strike could make a galaxy-wide impact. Ferus had been disheartened when Obi-Wan had left him to go alone in his search, but Roan was always there, waiting in the wings. Dedicated and loyal, he had volunteered to escort him wherever the stars and constellations would lead them. Roan had even set up the base in Ferus’ absence. He’d transported all the necessary supplies for operation – mechanical, medical, nutritional, even agricultural. It would be a temporary home for them, and any others the Empire had cast out.
But that last mission. . .
If only they had left straight from the café and headed for the base, but Ferus had pledged himself to one final mission.
Of course, Roan was adamant of his own participation, knowing he could be of assistance. So, Ferus had snuck him into the garrison/laboratory where he had been stationed to work. They would infiltrate the computer systems and extract all the information on a confidential research project that was being conducted at the facility. Ferus had been covertly investigating it for the last several days; their findings could keep the Empire from gaining further control.
But none of that seemed to matter now.
Because Roan was dead.
His husband was dead.
They had completed their task, and had been trying to make their exit when Vader discovered them. Ferus had immediately improvised, attempting to disguise Roan as a prisoner under his charge. But Vader had recognized him, and he knew of Ferus’ relationship to him, and without hesitation, a flash so swift it was almost missed, his blood red blade vengefully pierced Roan’s heart. . . and Ferus’ heart was pierced as well.
Ferus had had only seconds to say goodbye, and with Vader smugly watching. He knew behind the mask, whoever the menace of a man was, he was smiling – happy to have metaphorically taken Ferus’ life away when he wasn’t authorized to literally do so. And as Ferus’ heart died, a rage was born within him. With feeling he’d had nothing to lose, he drew his lightsaber and he fought, knowing he’d likely die, too. But Vader did not show him that mercy. He’d instead left him alive, with his grief – in agony. . . in anger.
Ferus had been hauled off to lockup – again, and unsurprisingly, Sidious sprang him once more. . . surely wanting to see what else he could take from him. . . But this time, Sidious did not want to take, but to give. He offered Ferus power – power over his own command, with a band of Inquisitors under his control. But more importantly, power over the Force. . . power that was promised to make him as strong as Vader. And the temptation Ferus felt was great: the thrill at the idea of challenging Vader and achieving victory.
Ferus was further tempted when Sidious proposed him as head of his organization to find Force-adepts. Now, it was easy to justify sticking around – he would be legally authorized to travel the galaxy to find Jedi. No sneaking on and off of planets, and an abundance of resources at his fingertips for tracking. He’d determinedly decided he could learn the ways of the dark side without being corrupted. He could avenge his husband’s death, and fulfil their plan of expanding their rebel movement. And in the interim, it gave him something to do to distract him from the pain. Ferus wasn’t ready to go to the base now. . . not without Roan.
His very first lesson with the Sith had been on feeding his anger. With his last memories of his beloved lost husband, it had been easy to do. He’d pictured Vader taking Roan’s life, ruthlessly and spitefully, just because he could. . . just to get a rise out of him. . . Well, he had gotten it, and that ascension would be used to work against the monster in the end.
As instructed, Ferus welcomed the rage, and he found he was able to draw strength from it, just as Sidious had foretold. The hatred that he allowed to flow through him was a far better alternative to the dam he’d built to keep his pain at bay. Objects in the training room began to rumble. The pressure was bubbling, maybe burning his soul. Normally, he’d release these dark feelings into the Force; he’d let go and seek peace, but Ferus held on, exonerating and smothering all other feelings, and devouring the anger alone. But the overflow of his fury could not be contained. The release was imminent.
He screamed.
A hateful scream so loud, he wasn’t sure if it was the acoustics or the Force when the walls around him started to ripple. What felt like minutes passed, but his war cry persisted without him needing to take a breath, his anger amplifying, and the source continually replenished with the power of this darkness he did not know he carried.
A swarm of debris swirled around him, items smashing to the ground or shattering against opposite walls. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to keep going. What could make him stop once he’d gotten started? He’d wanted to destroy Vader, but in that moment, the room would suffice.
Dust rained down from the ruined ceiling, and the floors beneath his feet cracked. And then, his voice ran out, but he did not feel drained, rather renewed. He felt strong. . . and this. . . had only been lesson one. He’d had no doubt he could defeat Vader in the end. And as far as remaining in the light while practicing in the dark. . . it was no longer a priority. Not a care or a concern.
In the days following, Ferus found himself putting off his duty to find Force-adepts in exchange to find information on Vader. He’d wanted triumph over him in every way imaginable – to wreck and humiliate him. He wanted to find out who he was and where he came from, what hideousness he was hiding under that helmet.
Ferus’ latest leads had brought him to the EmPal SuRecon (formerly ChanPal) Medical Facility on Coruscant. He had reason to believe Vader had been a patient there at the very end of the Clone Wars. If only he could find the records that would reveal him, he could gain the upper hand in his conquest.
But it seemed Vader was always a step ahead; the black-caped rampallian was currently at the facility, making it difficult for Ferus to sneak around. . . But Vader was not there for Ferus. . .
Ferus had been posing as a night shift employee, and he’d already mind-tricked his ‘co-worker’ and had set up for full access to medical records for the next few hours. But now he’d had to abort his plan, and instead found himself crawling through the air-ventilation system above.
Ferus follows Vader. He’ll follow him until he sees what he’s up to and where he might settle to perform his own work, and then Ferus can get back to his. If he’s lucky, Vader will leave the facility altogether; he’ll keep eyes on him until his intent is clear.
Ferus watches him stride down the hall, his sinister breathing guiding the way. He sees Vader enter a room. It will take Ferus a moment to reroute through the ducts to get a look inside. When he does, he sees it is an office, one with a second door that Vader must’ve already entered through. Ferus feels chills just before he spots Vader and one other: Jenna Zan Arbor. Oh, Ferus would never forget this face; it hadn’t changed in decades – evidence of the way she’d used her brilliance for her own personal gain.
Zan Arbor was said to be one of the most brilliant in the galaxy – above all other species. Her name had rose to fame when she had saved countless lives across dozens of planets by creating a vaccine that cured a widespread, deadly virus. She had begun her career as a philanthropist – not just working with medicine, but even in finding scientific solutions to end hunger amongst poverty-stricken worlds.
But somewhere along the way, the once good-hearted girl had become a selfish, sadistic woman. Financial gain had been involved in her moral downfall. She became preoccupied with the luxuries of life, developing a greater interest in making the kinds of discoveries that people would pay obscene amounts of credits for. The woman had it all – brains, beauty, a fortune that would not soon run out. . . but there was one thing she didn’t have – access to the Force.
When Ferus had been a young Padawan still with the Jedi, she had been one of their greatest enemies. She had become obsessed with the workings of the Force. She had imprisoned Anakin at one point, having used something like a sedative to infiltrate his mind, to make him ‘content’ and uncaring, locked in a prison of blitheness and unable to help himself or anyone else. She had planned to use that same drug as a mass weapon to force sentients into submission.
Ferus is not surprised in the least to see her and Vader together – what a pair. . . But this can’t mean anything good.
Ferus is doing his best to hide his signature while simultaneously letting the Force assist him in listening in on their conversation. He can hear that Vader is threatening Zan Arbor. She is doing something for him. . . something he seems very passionate about – very impatient about. The bellowing, simulated voice doesn’t allow for much change in tone, but Ferus can somehow detect a hint of desperation. . . something Vader typically would not let show.
“Once this procedure is complete, we can begin with your initial scan.”
“How soon will you know if it was a success?” Vader queries.
Zan Arbor twitches, nostrils flaring. “I know it will be a success,” she says in offense.
Vader does not make a move, but inside, he is seething.
“You have done nothing but rush this process. You continue to pressure and threaten me to get it done, but you’ve yet to tell me the target. What do you want to eliminate? When I retrieve this data tonight, I need to know what I’m looking for. It will take hours to sift through, and I only want to do it once. I don’t like wasting time. You need to tell me everything,” Zan Arbor defiantly demands.
Vader hesitates to snap her neck as a result of her lack of respect; he needs her. . . unfortunately. Revealing his identity to a woman whom he hates to admit Anakin Skywalker was once afraid of is not ideal. He has debated this over and over, and admittedly has been prolonging the process whilst acting as if he is trying to speed it up. Vader doesn’t know if he can truly trust Zan Arbor, but it is a risk he must take.
Forgetting Skywalker’s past will fully unleash Vader. He doesn’t want to forget it all; he needs a certain amount of those abominable memories to fuel his anger. His former Master, for example, the rage he is able to summon where Kenobi is concerned, has proven beneficial, but Amidala. . . As Sidious has accused, she is a weakness. His unborn child is a weakness. The memory of his dead wife’s betrayal does not help his cause, because it only brings hurt, hurt he cannot seem to let go of. He regrets not leaving her alive – but the reason as to why, he is not sure. To question her? To cause her the same pain she’d caused him? . . .Or was is that he’d wanted to try to rekindle her love for him, or rather, make her fall in love with Vader? Vader knows noble Kenobi would never accept what he has become, and he only hates him more for it. But the woman he had loved. . . Would she have joined him in the end, had his self-righteous Master not interfered?
These thoughts that plague his mind are what he needs erased. He needs Padmé erased, because the longing of her love, simply because it had seemed more attainable, only makes him weak. The question of ‘what if’ was something the Jedi warned against, but it would seem it was an equally damaging hypothetical for a Sith.
“You will alert me when you are done with him,” Vader decides. “When will that be?”
“Probably in the next twenty minutes,” Zan Arbor says annoyed.
“I will return in fifteen.” Vader strives to sound unforgiving and absolute, though he is full of uncertainty and fear. “I will reveal what is necessary, and you would be a fool to let any information outside of these walls.”
“Yes, my lord,” Zan Arbor replies snarkily. “Of course.”
Ferus is intrigued by what he’s heard. Eliminate. . . Eliminate what? Procedures? Scans? What was about to take place here? Would Zan Arbor see beyond the red-lensed eyes? Could he? He could wait here fifteen minutes to find out. That isn’t a problem.
Ferus moves to a different area of the overhead shaft, where a vent is better positioned to get a view of the full room. . . And then. . . he sees. . . ‘him.’ ‘You will alert me when you are done with him,’ Vader had said. The him is a child, lying on an examination table, wires and machines hooked to his head and chest. He appears unconscious. Ferus feels ill. Whatever procedure Vader planned for himself, he was first having Zan Arbor experiment on a child.
And now, Ferus has two options.
He can drop through the ceiling, right now, while Vader has stepped away, take the child from Zan Arbor and flee. . . Or he can wait those fifteen minutes and find out who Vader is. . .
Vengeance entices him. . . Hate. . .
But what of love?
Chapter Text
Ferus waits exactly five seconds after Vader’s exit, then kicks out the grating he had been peering through, leaps down below, and ignites his lightsaber, right in Zan Arbor’s face. Her eyes widen in horror. “The child comes with me,” he barks.
“What in the HELLS are you doing!?” Zan Arbor shrieks.
“Unhook it!” Ferus motions to the machine housing all the cables attached to the boy. “Whatever you’re doing, it ends now.”
“I’m not doing anything!” Zan Arbor yelps hushed. “You have to get out of here!”
“Ferus?” A soft, sweet voice calls out. “Mr. Ferus??”
Ferus doesn’t lower his weapon, but his head spins around at the sound of his name being called. “Lune,” he marvels as he registers who the boy is. And when he does, in an instant, every ounce of darkness Ferus had been harboring falls away. He feels the true power of Force fill him up again, the light reigniting his charred soul through the likes of this innocent child, one with whom he shares a connection.
Lune Oddo was the eight-year-old son of Astri Oddo – a woman who’d been an ally of the Jedi for decades. She was a very dear friend of Obi-Wan’s, and Ferus had met her in his youth, but he had recently been reacquainted with her and her son on that first Imperial mission to Samaria. Unbeknownst to Sidious, Ferus had gotten them safe passage off planet, and they had gone to the asteroid base to keep hidden from the Empire, as well as Astri’s estranged husband, and corrupt politician, Bog Divinian.
The last Ferus had heard (from Roan during that final meeting in the café) was that Astri and Lune had returned to Coruscant, but under the protection of the Erased – a group of outcasts who were hiding from the Imperials in what was known as the Orange District. Ferus had thought them safe there. It was imperative that Lune be protected, because Lune. . . was a fellow Force-sensitive. . . which would explain both Vader and Zan Arbor’s interest.
“She didn’t hurt me,” Lune begins to explain, pulling the suctioned circuits off his own head. “It’s pretend.” The boy smiles.
Ferus can’t help but smile with him, and he’s sure this is the first time he’s felt any real piece of happiness since losing Roan. Lune reminds him of what he’d been fighting for. He reminds him of what is good. . . that he himself was good. And that he had been making some very bad choices. Choices that he knows would disappoint his loving husband if he were here to witness.
And now, Ferus knows, he’s really done this time. He’ll take Lune back to his mother, and he’ll make sure they’re safe. He’ll take them back to base or wherever they want to go, and when Ferus is ready to resume his quest to find Jedi, he won’t be doing it by Imperial means. He will not return to Sidious. He can’t take the chance. He won’t be seduced by the darkness on false promises and the hope for revenge. He’s been feeling as if he no longer knows who he is without Roan, but he won’t let himself become what Vader is.
“I suppose if you’re defending the kid, then you’re planning to betray your boss as well, but you’ve got to get out of here! We have a plan!” Zan Arbor hisses.
Ferus puts away his saber as he moves closer to Lune and begins helping him remove the rest of the electrodes. “What’s the plan?” He’s intrigued at the mention of 'betraying the boss.'
“It doesn’t involve you,” Zan Arbor snaps. “Vader will return, and he needs to see Lune awake and with no memory of his mother.”
Lune can sense Ferus’ worry over the validity of the statement. “It’s not true,” he testifies. “We are just going to make him think that.”
“Umm,” Ferus starts. “I don’t know if you have any experience with trickery where Vader is concerned, but I wouldn’t bet on that working out the way you think,” he tells Zan Arbor.
“It’ll work,” Zan Arbor ensures. “He is desperate to forget something himself, and it is hindering his discretion where I am concerned. I don’t know what that something is, and I don’t really care. I’m going to knock him out, and we’ll all be out of here.”
Ferus looks at Zan Arbor stunned. He’d put together that she was helping Lune, but abandoning her Imperial duty? He had no doubt she was receiving substantial compensation for her work here – which had always been her prime motivation in the past. “You. . . ?” his speech trails off. “You’re Jenna Zan Arbor, right?” For a moment he second guesses that this is the same wicked woman he and the Jedi had faced off against.
Zan Arbor rolls her eyes. “Yeah, and you’re one of the Jedi Padawan brats. I remember you. We don’t have time to catch up, but yes, I am helping the kid. Yes, my loyalty has changed. I’m nothing but a slave and I want out.”
Ferus knows the feeling. “And where are you taking Lune?”
“Ms. Linna is here. She’s going to take me to my mom,” Lune informs.
Ferus likes this plan. This would not be the first time Linna Naltree had come through for him and his friends. She worked for the Empire, Ferus knew, but he had suspected against her will. She had assisted with escapes in the past, sacrificing her own freedom, but this time she would go free as well.
But Ferus finds it hard to envision Jenna Zan Arbor as part of their team, and he is skeptical, “You’ve been in touch with the Erased?”
“No,” Zan Arbor gripes. “Look, don’t count on me for your rebellion. I’m off to Toloran after this.”
“The tourist trap??” Ferus asks puzzled.
“You are just as insufferable as ever! Yes. That ‘tourist trap’ is one of the few places the Empire has yet to touch – because all those casinos and resorts roll in the credits, and they get a cut.”
That makes more sense. Zan Arbor will likely find a way to scheme the rich folk into turning their fortune over to her. So, she hadn’t changed all that much. But Ferus doesn’t care what Zan Arbor does, as long as she isn’t intending to harm Lune. “Where’s Linna?”
“I’ve already paged her. She is on her way now. Vader will be expecting her to return Lune to his father.”
“But I’m going with my mom,” Lune declares as a reminder.
“I’ll help you.” Ferus offers kindly. “I can wait for you and Linna at the docks. Does that sound good?”
Lune nods with a toothy grin. “Thank you.”
“Now go!” Zan Arbor fusses before Ferus can reply. “Get out!”
“Okay! I’ll be at the hanger,” Ferus promises Lune, then jumps back into the air duct and secures the vent.
Ferus is filled with adrenaline as he races to duty – a duty that for the first time in a long while feels right. This is where he’s meant to be – working with the heroes he calls friends without having to conceal his true nature. He wants to fight, and only on one side, and even if that means waiting, as Obi-Wan had so perversely recommended, then so be it. It is more important that the people he cares for are kept safe. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else precious in his life. Ferus knows he is far from okay, but succumbing to the darkness won’t bring back what he’s lost. It would only insure he loses more. It would condemn him to lose himself. He almost had. . . until Lune had appeared.
Near the docks, a midsized speeder swoops by, and Ferus dives to avoid being seen. He watches from behind a column, studying the daring and familiar movements of the driver. He steps out, and is almost hit when the vehicle comes to an abrupt halt.
“You son-of-a-mynock!!” The driver shouts, then his eyes observe the man before him. “F-Ferus?? FERUS?!” Trever Flume abandons the transport and races into Ferus’ arms.
The thirteen-year-old, blue-haired boy is someone very dear to Ferus. He was an orphan on his homeworld of Bellassa, rough around the edges, and once adamant in his claim that he didn’t need anything or anyone. Ferus had caught him pilfering from the local retailers in Ussa a time or two. He’d sleep in the alleyway behind he and Roan’s business office. Both men tended to keep an eye on him – for the sake of their fellow business owners and for Trever’s own sake a well. Like a skittish stray, over time, the boy began to accept food and shelter; he’d stay inside of Olin and Lands some nights, a change of clothes and a few sentimental possessions kept in their storage closet. When the Empire had taken over, Trever had joined Ferus and Roan in their fight. . . as the youngest member of the Eleven.
Trever was a lot less shy about his feelings for Ferus these days, and with having already lost Roan, he doesn’t hold back his tears at the relief at being with him again.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Ferus tells him soothingly as he pats his back.
Trever nods and sniffles, pulling away.
Ferus stoops down to his eye level, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m done. I’m coming back to base. Where is everyone? Where have you been staying?”
“I’m here for Lune.” Trever dries shameful tears.
“Me too,” Ferus grins. “He’s on the way. He knows to meet me here.”
“Well, there’s a lot less I have to do,” Trever chuckles. “Thought I’d have to sneak in and find him.”
“Already done,” Ferus affirms. “But not by me,” he admits with a laugh. “Linna.” Ferus sees Trever’s face brighten at the mention; she had been his hero once before, and now she was looking out for the boy who he knows Trever has grown close to over the last several weeks.
“That’s Maggis.” Trever points to the befuddled man in the passenger seat of the speeder. “We’re going to take Lune back to the safe house and contact Astri.”
“That’s perfect. That was what Linna had arranged for as well.” Ferus hugs him one more time and sighs. Embarrassed, Trever squirms out of his hold, eyebrows scowling, but a smile upon his lips. Ferus affectionately shoves him, then ruffles his hair.
Linna and Lune arrive minutes later, and report they’ve had no issue in convincing Vader that Lune had forgotten his mother; he’d been eager to be done with the lad, seemingly in order to begin his own mind alteration.
Linna informs that the original plan had been to wait for Jenna to join them. She was to transport them to safety. When Ferus had been added to the equation, there hadn’t been time to discuss whether or not that would change. So, they’ll wait, not wanting to leave Zan Arbor behind had she intended to be involved.
But their unlikely ally is taking longer than anticipated, and Linna is getting antsy knowing that Bog is in the facility somewhere waiting for Lord Vader to release his son back to him (the ignorant, brownnoser of a man, and kidnapper of a father, had felt it would work in his favor to volunteer his son as a test subject for an Imperial study).
So, Ferus encourages them to return to the safehouse without him, and promises to be in touch; he’ll make sure Zan Arbor hasn’t run into trouble with Vader.
He hastily makes his way back through the medical center, once again moving through the ducts, ears and eyes open. He locates Zan Arbor in the same room as before, and there is now a new patient on the examination table.
Ferus waits. Is this Vader? He can make out the shape of a humanoid, can see the body is still, but hears ordinary breathing, not quite the same menacing puffs of the dark lord. And though the table is shadowed, it does not appear the figure is cloaked in black. But who else would Zan Arbor have here? It has to be Vader. Is he out? Unconscious? His eyes move back to Zan Arbor; she is plucking away on keys at the work station several feet away. Well, she doesn’t appear to be in danger, but why is she lingering if she was supposed to see Linna and Lune to the Orange District?
Ferus lets a minute or two pass, but Vader shows no movement, and nothing else has appeared to change. He carefully takes the grating up into the shaft and slips down. He hides behind taller equipment that sits on top of the counter Zan Arbor is standing behind.
“Hey,” Ferus whispers to get her attention. The woman jumps, startled, a frown on her face when she sees him. “Well, Linna said you should’ve been at the hanger by now,” he pushes out in quiet annoyance before she can scold. “What’s going on?”
Zan Arbor’s face turns serious, and somewhat blank. The blush on her cheeks stands out against emerging paleness.
“What?” Ferus moves closer to her with a bit of worried urgency. He can now better see the examination table out of the corner of his eye. He tries not to look; he won’t let forbidden temptation reemerge.
“I was. . .” Zan Arbor swallows hard. “My memory agent is a working substance; it’s not something I made up for the purpose of this escape plan.”
“Okay,” Ferus drags out the word.
“I was supposed to get a full scan of his memories – and I did it. That’s what I’ve done. It’s a pretty quick extraction, but requires him to be sedated. . . I used a stronger drug than what he knows; that’s what I had intended to do.”
“And what hadn’t you intended to do? What are you about to tell me?” Ferus feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“I. . . I didn’t want him to come looking for me. His superiors will make do without me, but he was so determined to. . . I knew he’d come for me, and we both know he’d find me.”
“What did you do?” Ferus repeats accusingly.
“I started administering the drug – the memory agent – without any particular pinpoint of interest, and with a full dosage. It would be a complete mind wipe; he’d have no recollection of who he is. . . and he would leave me alone.”
This was something Zan Arbor had done for selfish purposes, but it would positively impact the entire galaxy – no more Vader. Instead, an empty vessel with no memory of his evil ambition.
“I stopped,” Zan Arbor spits out. “I. . . don’t know why I. . .”
“You stopped? You didn’t give him the full dose?”
“No,” Zan Arbor admits in reluctance.
“Why?” Ferus is stepping closer now, getting a better view of the unmoving form across the room. He feels sweat bead on his brow.
“While I waited, I was reviewing what was extracted as it was being erased, and I saw something.”
“What did you see?”
“Me. . . You. . .”
“Well, we are two people he knows. . . We would appear in scans of his memories.” Ferus is calm, but he is growing impatient.
“You don’t understand, we were yo—" Zan Arbor takes a breath. “Vader. . . Vader is Anakin Skywalker.”
Notes:
QUEUE IMPERIAL MARCH MUSIC!!! 😆
Okay, my friends, how are we liking this so far?? What do you think will happen next?
Thank you so very much for reading 💗 Leave me a comment to let me know you're here! I cherish single emojis, "kudos," or whatever you've got 🙂
Chapter Text
Anakin?
With a dry mouth and trembling hands, Ferus gawks at the patient on the table.
How? Why?
How could Anakin be Vader? But Ferus knows the answer. . . Anakin had always thought his own word absolute. He’d thought his ideas best, and his methods superior. He’d always wanted people to do what he wanted them to do. And he was rarely willing to accept it when things didn’t go his way.
Ferus had told Obi-Wan – warned him that something like this could happen. He had been afraid that if Anakin sought control, with his level of power. . . he could have it. . . and so he did.
But why? Why would Anakin elect to harm others when he’d once fought alongside him to protect? And Ferus knows the answer to this as well. . . Hadn’t he just been seeking revenge a mere hour before? Hadn’t he himself been a victim of Sidious’ seductions? How deep might he have gone had Lune not been there? How far might he have fallen? . . .As far as Anakin?
Like a moth drawn to the flame, Ferus takes a slow step forward. His eyes narrow to focus on the person upon the pedestal. Is it really him? Is it really Anakin? Ferus’ feet somehow keep moving without the intent. He doesn’t want to see this. He doesn’t need to. He’s made peace, accepted the mystery, and he was leaving the Empire behind – leaving the darkness behind. Even so, he continues on. . . and a few more paces ahead. . . and two more. . . and one more. . .
Without Zan Arbor having said, Ferus isn’t sure he would’ve recognized this as Anakin. The demonic helmet has been removed, a clear oxygen mask in its place. And Ferus now has his answer as to what the Sith had been keeping shrouded: pale, mangled flesh, wounds covering his bald head entirely. . . wounds that look improperly healed, if healed at all. They look painful – deep gashes, red abrasions. But Ferus can see remnants of Anakin – the shape of the nose, the curve of his lips. . . the almost permanently furrowed brow.
“What happened to him?” Ferus hears himself ask shakily.
Zan Arbor now stands beside him, somber and without cause. “I don’t know. I told him I’d perform the procedure to retrieve the scans of his memories first, and then we’d discuss what to erase. I was sort of surprised he agreed to doing it in that order; I just wanted to put him under as fast as possible, so I could leave.” Zan Arbor shuffles her feet and shifts her weight. Like Ferus, she is unable to look away from the deadly beast she’s managed to tame. “I hadn’t planned for any review – just complete deletion. When I happened to see memories of myself from a time when I hadn’t known Vader to exist, I paused the dispensing of the drug, but I can’t look back at what has already been purged to see what transpired.”
“And what you’ve already erased, there’s no way to. . .”
“Those memories are gone. They cannot be recovered.”
“But with amnesia, they say—”
“This is not amnesia,” Zan Arbor informs in slight agitation. “The memories that have been erased are gone. For good,” she says firmly.
“If you’re pulling visual scans of memories, wouldn’t there be a way to keep a backup?” Ferus fusses in response. “I mean, wouldn’t you want a fail-safe for a procedure like this??”
“Yes, and there is one, but I didn’t want that option for him; I didn’t want any trace of him left – I wanted him to forget it all, to be sure he’d forget me, and I didn’t want anyone to be able to discover my connection to him.”
“What are you going to do now?” Ferus asks hoarse.
“I suppose I’ll. . . proceed with administering the rest of the agent,” Zan Arbor says without her usual confidence. “There isn’t any reason not to. Just because we know who he was, it doesn’t change who he is now.”
But it does. If Vader’s mind had been expelled of all recollection of Vader, then what was left was. . . Anakin. “What has been erased so far? Does it work chronologically?”
“The way I set up this wipe, yes.”
“Starting from birth on? Or working backwards from Vader to. . . ?”
“Working backwards, and I had just determined how far the agent had progressed right before you came in; the last thing he’d remember is about three years before the war.”
Then, this before them is a sixteen or seventeen-year-old Padawan. “You continue the deletion of all of his memories, then what? What happens to him?” Ferus doesn’t understand the worry he hears in his own voice.
“Someone will eventually find him here. Since I got him out of the suit, they won’t know who he is, and he won’t know either. He’ll likely be institutionalized with the state of mind he’ll be in; he’ll be childlike and seem mentally unwell, and he’ll no longer be a threat – to anyone.”
“That’s. . . that’s probably for the best,” Ferus unconvincingly agrees. This is a good thing, right? What is this feeling inside of him that’s telling him something is wrong? Ferus examines the helpless man further, having had his life stripped away without consent. But perhaps his life had been stripped away long ago. . . Ferus listens to the breathing – the sound much weaker than what normally emits from behind the helmet. “Is this mask he’s wearing right now part of the process for sedation. . . or. . . ?”
“His helmet and suit operate as a respirator,” Zan Arbor confirms. “He can’t breathe on his own without it, at least not for a long period of time. It’s the one thing he told me before agreeing to remove it. I still can’t believe he allowed himself to be so vulnerable with me. Whatever he was trying to forget must’ve been extremely traumatic and troubling; I surely didn’t expect he’d comply to wearing nothing but a med gown either, but look.” Zan Arbor opens the front of the gown to expose more of Vader’s battered flesh. “These ports for the respirator were surgically implanted into his chest.”
Ferus cringes when he sees them, an array of black, irregularly shaped receptacles scattered up top, and a quad of circles down on his torso below. And now Ferus registers the full extent of whatever types of injuries these are that Anakin has sustained – including the absence of all four limbs. Bile rises up in his throat, and he feels lightheaded and dizzy. An abundance of pity overtakes him. . . of sympathy. . .
“I don’t understand going through the trouble of a surgery for a solution such as this. With today’s technology, and with the Empire’s disposable income, he likely could’ve gotten a full lung replacement. And these prosthetics he wears are barbaric – drilled into bone.” Zan Arbor’s voice quiets as she raises a sleeve on the gown.
Ferus’ eyes involuntarily fix on the area. The skin there is raw and irritated. And at envisioning the connection described, he shifts his gaze to take in the structure of the mechno portion of the arm, down to the metal fingers he could swear just twitched. But upon further scrutiny, he sees they are still – lifeless, and somehow frail and delicate looking, despite the inhuman material. And now he wonders, “If he’s institutionalized, do you think he’d receive adequate medical care? Do you think they’d try to help improve his condition?”
“Well, there wouldn’t be anyone responsible for him to pay his way for potential advancements, so I doubt it, but I can’t be sure.”
Ferus isn’t sure. . . He isn’t sure why he cares. . . but he does.
“Shall we proceed with the administering of the drug?” And Zan Arbor’s question isn’t one of time, but of confirmation.
“I. . . guess. . .” Ferus steps back unwillingly, forcing himself to look away, but when he and Zan Arbor return to the lab station, his sets his sights on Anakin once again.
“Okay,” Zan Arbor narrates unevenly. She hits a few prompts on a holo device, fingers quivering.
Ferus watches her. He doesn’t understand this process or what it entails, but when he feels time is running short to intervene. . . “Wait.”
Zan Arbor does.
Ferus blows out a breath, then looks at the woman with a stressed face. He isn’t sure what he’s asking her to wait for.
Suddenly, an alarm starts beeping, and Zan Arbor springs into action. “Kark! I was afraid this would happen!” She rushes to the medical table and draws out the restraints.
“What?!” Ferus shouts. “What’s happening?!” He races back to the platform as well.
“He’s waking up! These sedatives just don’t work as well on Force-sensitives, particularly him, as I now know from two trials!”
“Two?!” Ferus can’t help but speak at a high volume, invoked by the urgent atmosphere of the room.
“He’s fought unconsciousness before – when you were kids – on Vanqor!”
Ferus knows exactly what Zan Arbor refers to: a time when Anakin’s strength in the Force had allowed him to withstand the effects of a paralyzing drug she had given him before putting him in the Zone of Self-Containment – her experiment that had left him in a state of indifference.
Ferus hurriedly assists Zan Arbor with affixing the restraints to his head, waist, and lower thighs. . . because there isn’t really anything else to do.
“I can put him back under, but it’s too late now. He’ll wake, and then I can re-administer an even stronger dose. Prepare yourself.”
For what? Never before has Ferus been in a situation such as this. The monitor is still blaring when the exam table starts to vibrate. The patient’s lids flicker as equipment at the lab station rattles. A mechanical hand shoots up to rip the mask from the gruesome face. Then, Ferus hears the scream, an awful, ear-piercing, blood-curdling wailing that shatters vials from across the room. He stammers back; his instincts are telling him to run, but he finds himself frozen in place. Had this memory serum actually worked? Who was about to awaken?
In his short, seventeen years, Anakin Skywalker has endured much – from the injustice of slavery as a boy, to the agonizing separation from his mother as he studied to become a Jedi, to actually being a Jedi - witnessing death, and feeling its effects greater than most as a result of his deep connection to the living Force. But NEVER has Anakin Skywalker endured the kind of torture he is experiencing now, and this time, he is not sure he can persevere.
Because everything hurts. His head, his arms, his legs. Every inch of his flesh and bone aches. More petrifying than these unfathomable ailments, is the burn in his chest each time he tries to take a breath; he gasps, and when the scorching sensation worsens, he panics further.
If it is at all possible for Anakin to find fortitude, there is only one person who can provide it. With all his might, Anakin reaches for him in the Force. . . but he is met with an empty void.
“MASTER!!!” Anakin shrieks, though he knows he isn’t there. And where is Obi-Wan? He needs Obi-Wan, because he’s hurt and he’s scared, and only his Master can save him. Only his Master can take away this pain and fear. Anakin reaches for him again. . . to no avail. . .
But
There is someone there – someone familiar, perhaps someone he can cling to. Before seeking them out, Anakin strives to deflect the pain long enough to take in his surroundings, to discover where he is and how he got here. But his head is being held down, and he can only look up. . . and he recognizes nothing. He makes another grand attempt to draw air to his uncooperative lungs, as fragments of his memory return. . . Romin! He is on Romin! He and his Master had been undercover, impersonating thieves called the Slams on Romin! Master Tachi had been with them, and. . . and. . . “FERUS!!”
Ferus is the familiar presence Anakin feels. Ferus is here! “FERUS!” Anakin cries out. But his fellow Padawan does not answer him. And Anakin knows that though Ferus is nearby, he himself must be in the hands of the enemy. . . Zan Arbor. Jenna Zan Arbor had recognized him; she had seen past his disguise. Anakin remembers he and his Jedi companions had fled at being found out, but the evil woman must’ve caught up with him and captured him. But Ferus – Ferus must’ve somehow tracked him!
“FERUS!!!” Anakin tries again. “I’m here! HELP!! FERUS!!” Never has Anakin so easily given up on his own devices in favor of relying on another, and he is aware he could be compromising Ferus’ safety, and the mission, by screaming his name, but the pain in unbearable; he can’t do this on his own. Not this time. “FERUS!!!!!”
Ferus’ blood turns to ice. His mouth is open, but he is unable to respond – perhaps unwilling. He looks at Anakin in shock, because he’s now sure it’s him – he can feel him. Ferus’ Force signature has been continually and habitually muted for quite some time, but despite this, Anakin has found him, latched onto him like a parasite. And even with only a partial link, Ferus can feel the great intensity of the pain Anakin is in, a pain so severe, it nearly drives Ferus to his knees. He fights to metaphorically pry Anakin off of him, one fiber – one thread – one finger at a time, while simultaneously wrestling to close himself off entirely. When the connection is cut, Ferus finds relief, but knows the opposite is true for Anakin.
“Ferus,” Anakin calls brokenly now. “Ferus!!” he hollers once more in defeat. He’s losing him, or maybe Ferus was never there. Regardless, Anakin knows he’s alone. He tells himself it’s just pain. It’s just pain! Already pinned to the bed, he bears down against it, frantically trying the techniques he’d been taught as a youngling pupil: feel the pain and release it. This method only works for a fleeting moment – long enough that he can register someone else is there. . . not a friend, but a foe. The enemy is approaching; it’s her! And Anakin knows he is useless to defend himself.
“You need to control your breathing,” Zan Arbor warns. She tries to put the mask back on Anakin’s face, but he slaps her hand away.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Anakin threatens, finding a jolt of adrenaline at her cold touch, but he hears how feeble the words come out – he doesn’t sound like himself.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Zan Arbor assures, but her tone is sharp and unforgiving.
Anakin has heard this before. No, she wouldn’t hurt him, but she’d study him – pick apart his brain, make him forget what’s important, keep him from his Master. And clearly, she had done something to hurt him with the excruciating impact he’s feeling now. “No,” Anakin cries. “No, please.” Shamefully, he’s reduced to begging for mercy.
Though Ferus has conquered the burden of Anakin’s physical pain, his tendency towards empathy takes control as he watches the injured man cry. Anakin is suffering, and he feels alone and confused, and Ferus knows he needs to let him know he’s there. “Anakin. . .” He can hardly say it. His voice quakes as he moves in closer.
“Ferus!!” Anakin struggles against the restraints. His head turns back and forth as much as it is able, searching for Ferus’ face.
“Anakin, stop,” Ferus warns. “Keep still.”
“Ferus, please. Please get me out of here; it hurts so much. Please help me,” Anakin bawls.
Ferus doesn’t answer the request directly. “Anakin,” he begins. “Listen to me, you’ve been in an accident,” he relays as calmly as he can.
“What happened?” Anakin yelps. “Where’s Obi-Wan?” he chokes out.
Ferus bypasses those questions, providing the only response Anakin needs right now. “I know you’re hurting, and I know you’re afraid, but you need to let Zan Arbor help you.”
“She can’t!” Anakin squawks. “This was all her – she’s the one pulling Teda’s strings,” he tearfully tries to explain. “But you were right, Ferus,” he heaves, straining to speak while his airway feels constricted. “We should’ve never done that job for Joylin – the revolt was our fault.”
Goosebumps form along Ferus’ skin. Anakin would sound delirious if he didn’t know precisely what he was talking about, but he does. Ferus now knows where Zan Arbor interrupted the dispersing of the memory agent. . . The last thing Anakin remembers is their mission on Romin. And Anakin telling him he had been right about the revolt was not something that had occurred in the past. They had actually been getting along fairly well on that mission, up until that revolt had taken place. Anakin had thought it necessary for victory. Ferus had seen it as needless blood loss.
“You don’t need to worry about that right now,” Ferus relays. “You just have to trust me; you didn’t trust me before, trust me now. A lot has happened, and you have to let Zan Arbor help you.”
“Don’t go. Don’tgodon’tgodon’tgo,” Anakin chants, writhing on the table under the straps.
“I’m. . . I’m not,” Ferus finds himself promising. He can’t imagine how much more terrifying this must be for Anakin to have to depend on Zan Arbor; she had been their adversary on that mission. . . and on many missions before it.
Anakin moans, but with Ferus’ reassurance, allows Zan Arbor to slip the mask back in place.
Anakin’s body tremors when oxygen properly fills his lungs, the sound making Ferus feel short of breath himself.
“I’m going to put him back under,” Zan Arbor reveals.
Ferus sees the frightened look in Anakin’s blue eyes. He shakes his head pleadingly. And when Ferus doesn’t take any action, and with Zan Arbor moving to perform her proclaimed task, Anakin tears the mask off his face once again.
“No! Please, Ferus, please,” Anakin whines. He can’t go back under without knowing where his Master is. He remembers now; they had gotten away from Zan Arbor, but a battle had broken out in the Romin prison. What if Obi-Wan had been hurt?! Anakin needed to know. “Obi-Wan,” he manages. “The battle. . . the prison. . .”
Ferus feels haunted at the mention of these old memories – at the mention of Obi-Wan in particular. He knows to which battle Anakin speaks of. “He made it out. Obi-Wan is fine.”
“I can’t feel him,” Anakin fights the narcotic that is infiltrating his veins. “Where. . . is. . . he?”
“He. . . can’t be here right now,” Ferus answers truthfully.
“I need him,” Anakin whimpers, just as his eyes shut.
Zan Arbor secures the mask back over his face, and Anakin is out.
Ferus and Zan Arbor look at one another.
Now what?
Notes:
You already know this story is my twist on events from Book 8 of The Last of the Jedi. Coincidentally, I have chosen to have it where Anakin's last memories are of events from Book 8 of Jedi Quest. Sooooo, Anakin won't remember his upset over Ferus being selected for the trial acceleration program, nor will he remember Ferus leaving the Order. . . as well as so many other things that he has no idea have taken place. Strap in. Trauma ahead.
THANKS FOR READING!
Chapter Text
Ferus is in disbelief over what his mind is entertaining, but he strongly suspects Zan Arbor shares in his turmoil. His hesitancy had allowed for Anakin to awake, and now that he had, could they really proceed with eliminating the remainder of his memories?
Anakin wouldn’t be aware; he wouldn’t have any idea. He’d forget ever having encountered Ferus – he’d forget the pain. . . but would the pain persist? Zan Arbor had said there was no guarantee his injuries would be better treated wherever he may end up. Anakin could be looking at a life in misery. . . but was that what he deserved?
Ferus rids the evil thought. Who was he to pass judgement that way? Force knows it is not up to him to decide what someone ‘deserves.’ He’d lost sight of that in his brief encounter with the darkness, and he wasn’t willing to allow himself to revert back.
But the dilemma stands; Anakin is left unable to discern for himself, so who was to decide on his behalf? He and Zan Arbor could abstain from proceeding with administering the remainder of the drug, but then what?
Had this been seven years earlier, and he were truly on the mission Anakin believes to be on now, there would only be one choice: Ferus would help him; he would bring him to safety. . . But this wasn’t seven years earlier. This wasn’t the mission on Romin. Anakin’s injuries weren’t from the battle there. There is no Temple medic to transport him to- There is no Temple. . . but what if Anakin could be returned to his Master?
Ferus knows Obi-Wan grieves his lost apprentice. Having suffered his own great loss, he knows this better now than he had before. When Ferus had simply and delicately spoke the name, ‘Anakin. . .’ as a question of his fate, he’d seen the pain behind Obi-Wan’s eyes. And Ferus knows that very same mark of grief betrays his own eyes whenever his beloved husband’s name spills from anyone’s lips.
The most important person in Ferus’ life is gone. . . but what he would give to have him back. . . and what if Obi-Wan could have the most important person in his life back?
A buzzing removes Ferus from his cognitive dispute. It is the intercom from the office area, muffled but decipherable. . .
“Mistress Zan Arbor, there is a gentleman here waiting that is requesting a time estimate on when you might release the patient. . . <You tell her I am a very busy man! I am a Senator!>”
Ferus is filled with dread. “That’s Bog.” And of course the despicable man would be worried about his own precious schedule over inquiring about the wellbeing of his son. Ferus is more than glad Lune is on the way to his mother.
“Time to go!” There is light humor in Zan Arbor’s voice that is so rarely there.
“We can’t leave him.” And there is the verbal admission – proof the decision had already been made.
Zan Arbor scoffs. “And what do you propose we do with him?”
Ferus throws up his hands. “I don’t know, but we’re taking him! At least for now; we have to do something.”
Zan Arbor groans. “All right,” she complains.
“Linna and Lune have already gone to the safehouse. I have a ship; it’s small, but—”
“I have a ship,” Zan Arbor interrupts with emphasis. “I don’t travel in just any sort of accommodations, you know.”
Ferus rolls his eyes at her snotty remark. “Fine. What do we need?”
“My ship is stocked with all the same medical supplies I have here.” She grabs her holo device and pounds her fingers upon it. “It functions as both a transport and a small medical facility. And my med droid has just been alerted we’re coming with a patient.” She stuffs the device in a bag. “There’s a release that will convert that table to a repulsor gurney,” she directs, motioning for Ferus to take care of it as she begins shoving Vader’s belongings into the bag as well; she had planned to dispose of them before. . . she may need them now.
“What about oxygen?” Ferus wonders as he’s finishing the conversion of the multi-functional hover table.
“Take him off. We won’t have far to go. My AZ droid will meet us, and I’ll get him set up again.”
Ferus moves on reflex – without thinking. He’s always worked well under pressure, particularly when someone is in trouble.
They make their exit on the opposite end of the facility from where they know Bog would be waiting. Zan Arbor’s droid is there with the ship as slated.
“Toloran??” Ferus asks as they board, knowing it was where Zan Arbor had originally intended to go. For now, they just need to get off Coruscant until they can further discuss their options.
Zan Arbor blows out an aggravated breath. “We can’t exactly jump right into hyperspace with him in this condition! I’ll need to get him more stable. Get us to a temporary location where we’ll be concealed,” she orders. “I won’t need long – just about a half hour or so.”
Ferus jumps in the pilot’s seat. The ship is too large to travel down into the Orange District where he knows it will be safest. But there isn’t anyone chasing them – yet – so, he settles for the nearby landing strip of the Galaxies Opera House. It’s large and vacant, the venue being closed and dark this late into the night, shadows keeping them hidden from anyone passing by.
While Zan Arbor gets to work, Ferus first makes sure the area is secure, then informs of his intent to travel back to the medical center on foot to retrieve his own ship.
Normally, Ferus would not concern himself with having an additional mode of transportation, but for once, there is time in his escape to plan accordingly. . . This vessel, that had been issued to him only recently for his search for Force-adepts, has galaxy-wide Imperial clearance. He could strip it of its physical trackers and delete all the internal identifiers, but keep the credentials that would allow him to move from planet to planet as he pleased – within moderation, of course. When he did return to the asteroid base, it would be an asset in future endeavors of the Eleven.
It is just under the half hour timeframe when Ferus reconvenes at the opera house. He docks his smaller ship onto Zan Arbor’s larger one, then locates the medical ward she had told him about. It is of decent size and truly, and remarkably, resembles a stationary clinic.
But now, reality sets in.
Zan Arbor is there. . . with Vader.
All traces of Anakin have disappeared, as the man in question is back in his famous black getup. Ferus tries to hide his upset as Zan Arbor explains that under the circumstances, the respirator that has already proven reliable is the most logical option for hyperspace travel in a hurry. Ferus understands, but is suddenly questioning everything. . . He is unable to ignore the skin-crawling, mechanical breathing that has been heard in his nightmares since his husband’s death. Is he really helping a fellow Jedi? Or rescuing Roan’s killer?
There seems to be an upspoken agreement that Anakin’s memories won’t be further affected. Zan Arbor has administered no additional substances other than a stronger ataractic, and is adamant that Vader will remain in a paralytic state for the entirety of the journey. Ferus certainly hopes so; he doesn’t want Vader brought back to life. . . and how awful it would be for Anakin to awaken in the confines of the suit.
Not wanting to risk being left alone with the sheep in wolf’s clothing, Ferus abruptly vacates the patient room, retreating to his own docked ship and leaving Zan Arbor to pilot, with Anakin under the watch of the AZ droid. He tries not to think of Anakin, or Vader, or Roan, and instead makes a mental to-do list to occupy him for the duration of their travels.
First, he researches Toloran. The tourism-infused planet experiences winter weather all year long. Because of this, it is comprised of mostly ski resorts. But Ferus has discovered there is a secluded side of the mountains – the very northern side – where the sun does not as often frequent, and temperatures are bordering on dangerous, proving much too cold for vacationers. It is an ideal spot to land without being detected. He will alert Zan Arbor when they get closer to their destination.
Check.
Next, Ferus logs a message to Trever, regretfully explaining that though he is indeed done with his double agent work for the Empire, a new mission has pulled him away. He explains that he cannot disclose the details for the moment, but promises to reach out again soon. He advises his young sidekick to take direction from Astri, and to report in with Ry-Gaul at the asteroid base to relay this information. Ferus knows Trever will act unaffected by the change of plans, but will be disappointed. Ferus is disappointed as well. He had been looking forward to returning to the people he calls family after having pushed them away in his state of grief.
Check.
Ferus now commences with stripping his craft of all its associations with the Empire. Sidious will likely be looking for him by morning; he had put off his assignment to find Force-sensitives long enough, and had been ordered to ship out with his team no later than the following afternoon. He briefly wonders when Sidious will notice Vader is missing. He suspects the Sith Master hadn’t any knowledge that his apprentice had been on Coruscant trying to erase parts of his memory. The news likely wouldn’t be made public upon the discovery; Sidious wouldn’t want it to be made known that his attack dog was unavailable to instill fear.
Ferus finishes the with the ship’s modifications more quickly than anticipated. . . Check. . . And now he is left with what he hadn’t hoped to have – time to think. He is successful in blocking intrusive thoughts of Vader. . . and of Roan, as per usual, but he can’t seem to quiet his mind of his foreseeable future with Anakin.
The same questions that plagued him before, plague him now. What will happen when they reach Toloran? What happens when Anakin wakes again? Can Zan Arbor do something for him? Would she help him? If the answer is yes, then perhaps Anakin can be left in her care, and Ferus could report back to base. Zan Arbor wouldn’t need his help; he’s no doctor. And Anakin doesn’t need him either – he’d never been Ferus’ biggest fan anyway. . .
But the same moral tug from when they had first debated clearing the rest of Anakin’s memories returns, filling him with that strong sense of right and wrong that has been a critical part of his identity since youth. . . It would be wrong to leave him. Anakin had been afraid and untrusting of Zan Arbor, and rightfully so. It would be cruel to leave him alone with her. Anakin had called out to him, asked for his help.
Ferus thinks about the very last thing he had said to Anakin as he’d made his departure from the Order: “If the Jedi ever need me, I will be there. . . That includes you, Anakin.” He’d meant what he’d said. He had been hurt and saddened over everything that had transpired, but as he’d moved forward, he knew a piece of him would always be reserved for the family he was leaving behind. And he had cared about Anakin, despite their differences.
So, he’ll stay, and devote himself to a new mission, one that the Force had unexpectedly dropped into his lap. A mission to revive Anakin. . . Well, would this count as finding Jedi? Ferus thinks amused. Taking Anakin back to base is an idea. Zan Arbor isn’t the only doctor Ferus knows. His friend Amie is there. Maybe she could do something for Anakin. . . but Ferus knows Zan Arbor is better equipped. Supplies are limited at the base, and as much as he values Amie’s experience, he knows her knowledge on the subject would be limited as well.
Consequently, the next item on Ferus’ agenda is to speak candidly with Zan Arbor. . . He doesn’t imagine the discussion will be pleasant. . .
“Do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do?” Zan Arbor barks in irritation.
“Not really. . . I’m not even sure what it is I want you to do. I just want to know what you can do.”
“What about what I’m willing to do?”
“What about the right thing to do?”
“You— you dogmatic Jedi make me sick!”
Ferus is silent, waiting for the woman to have her tantrum, his stoicism appearing influential.
Zan Arbor sighs. “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t just going to Toloran to flee. There is another doctor I’m meeting there. He is the director of the hospital in the most robust area of the world; there are credits to be made. We had planned to team up. . . His area of expertise is vast.” Zan Arbor hesitates. “I do believe, if we put our heads together, we could perform the operation he would need to breathe without a respirator.”
The hope Ferus feels confuses him; he hadn’t known until just now how badly he wants this for Anakin. “Do you think he’d be willing to do it, or is he. . . ?” The completion of the question might come off offensive, but Zan Arbor knows what he implies.
“Is he like me?” Zan Arbor snaps. “Greedy and self-serving? Is that what you were going to say?” Her mouth puckers in a scowl. “You can’t get something for nothing, you know!”
“Well, I’m sure I can’t afford a groundbreaking operation, but don’t you think you’d both be compensated in the form of the experience you’d receive? Don’t you think the feeling you’d get from helping someone. . . Wouldn’t that mean anything to you??” Ferus can’t hide his frustration.
“I’m not the helping type,” Zan Arbor answers weakly, Ferus’ words clearly affecting her.
“You were.” Ferus is more gentle now.
And what he says is true; there was a time when she was the ‘helping type,’ and since the rise of the Empire, Zan Arbor had been reminded that there are things of value in life that credits cannot buy – freedom for instance. She would have sold her precious and prized possessions to obtain it (but she was pleased it hadn’t come to that). She was only now beginning to realize that being able to purchase whatever lavish and extravagant items she coveted wasn’t true happiness.
True happiness was what Linna had with her husband, Tobin. The couple had been separated since Linna was captured by the Empire and made to serve – her only compensation being promises that her family would be kept safe if she cooperated. . . Zan Arbor hadn’t been thrilled to work for the Empire, but at least she was getting paid. Her assistant’s tragic tale had struck a feeling she’d not known since the early days of her profession: empathy. . . a feeling that is sneaking up on her once again. . .
Ferus studies Zan Arbor, trying to determine if he’s gotten through. He understands what he’s asking, and it’s something he’s torn about wanting himself. “I just want to know what the options are,” Ferus says after she’s been quiet a minute.
Jenna contemplates with another heavy sigh. “Better prosthetics – that would be no issue. I’m sure Dr. Vaklin would have them in stock. Bacta treatments – I have a portable tube here on the ship. And. . .” The usual arrogance resurfaces, and the woman has a subtle gloating smile. “I have recently perfected a new healing salve that is superior to bacta. I have a large supply of the prototype. It is what attracted the attention of Dr. Vaklin in the first place; it is part of the deal we made for him to bring me on board. I am interested in testing it on someone with older and much more severe injuries. . . scarring like his. . .”
“They’re burns, right?” Ferus checks, because he hadn’t been sure. “The way his skin. . . It’s burns?”
“Yes,” Jenna says gravely.
Ferus sucks in a breath. What in the stars and planets had Anakin been through? Who held the answers for what had happened to this man? Vader no longer did.
“Getting him off a respirator. . . Well, I don’t know exactly what issues are underlying. I suspect smoke inhalation is the cause, but whatever is damaged, it can surely be replaced with artificial equipment; I’m confident we could do it, and that would resolve whatever breathing troubles he’s having. So, if all parties are willing, yes, I could get him in a physical state more closely to what he once was.”
“You want to do it,” Ferus pushes with a slight grin. He can tell Jenna is intrigued, maybe simply for bragging rights and for the love of science, but possibly to take an interest in someone other than herself.
“I believe Dr. Vaklin would be cooperative in reworking our deal, and if he requires additional funds. . . Well. . .” Jenna huffs, but her usual annoyance is lacking. “. . .I can make it happen.”
Ferus is touched. He is reminded of the most valuable lesson he’d learned since leaving the Jedi, one that Roan had taught him: People change. Hearts can change. Sometimes for better. Sometimes for worse, but it is never too late to set things right. “I don’t think you’ll regret it.”
“You do realize the risks involved?” Jenna is sharp once more. “This is a very serious operation, one that should’ve been performed at the time of whatever accident occurred. No one knows the human body better than I; there is no greater surgeon, but there is always a risk when attempting to repair or replace such vital organs.”
“I understand.”
“If only I had backed up the scans rather than just wiping them along with the memories. Then we would know exactly what took place, and the best approach to take. . . And maybe it would shed some light as to why he chose to wear that suit; it was causing more pain than it was helping.”
“Maybe he didn’t choose it,” Ferus mutters. If his first dark lesson had been in feeding his anger, he would assume there was one up ahead on feeding pain. He quickly changes the subject, “Do you think Dr. Vaklin would be willing to come to us?” Ferus had first told Jenna about his landing plans before they had begun discussing Anakin. “Could you perform an operation like this here on the ship? I don’t think it would be safe to admit him to a public institution.”
“There is a luxury suite waiting for me on the populated side of Toloran, just so you know,” Jenna gripes, feeling the need to remind Ferus of her sacrifice.
Ferus doesn’t comment, but can’t help but smile.
*
When Jenna retires to her quarters to rest, Ferus is left empty handed, his to-do list complete with still an hour or so of travel ahead. The unlikely pair had held their discussion in the spacious common area of Jenna’s ship; Ferus had intended to return to his own craft, but finds himself padding softly to the medical wing. After having just fought for him, advocated for him. . . Ferus wants to see Anakin.
He lurks outside the patient room, feeling a heaviness at knowing it is not Anakin that he will see. But once again, Ferus is drawn in. . . like the ocean’s tide pulling him out to sea, knowing the waves will inevitably send him chaotically crashing back to the shoreline. . . all as a result of this complex commitment he’s made.
And would he be carried all the way back to shore, or might he be caught in the undertow and drown along the way?
Ferus enters the room. He approaches Vader’s corpse, mouth in a firm line, breath short. Anxiety fills his belly, a churning, empty feeling of something reminiscent of fear in the pit of his gut. And he had been afraid in the past. The mere sight of Vader had once made him cower and run. But now. . . the visage may pass for intimidating, but Ferus knows what lies beneath the multitude of ghastly layers.
Anakin
Weak and wounded. Scared and confused. What will he tell him when he wakes? How will he explain that he’s lost seven years of his life? How can he even begin to describe how the galaxy has changed. . . and the vicious part he’s played in making it so. . . Despite having signed up for it, Ferus doesn’t want the responsibility. How had this become his responsibility? Wasn’t there someone else meant for this undertaking? Perhaps someone with a boat, and a sail, equipped to brave the treacherous waters while remaining dry.
. . . Ferus thinks of Obi-Wan again. . . How soon should he reach out to him? Would he allow himself a hiatus in his own secret mission? Wouldn’t he swim around Mon Cala twice over to get to Anakin once he learns he’s alive?
But then it dawns on Ferus. . . Obi-Wan already knows.
In all of his omissions, Ferus is suddenly certain of this one undeniable truth: Obi-Wan knew that Anakin had become Vader. He knew, but chose to keep it from him. And while Ferus had been on the frontlines, standing against the Empire in an endless, exhausting, and soul-selling fight, Obi-Wan had opted out, and opted to keep this pivotal piece of information to himself, information that could’ve changed everything – information that could’ve saved his husband’s life.
Ferus is careful of the rapid surge of anger he feels. He can’t afford to let the darkness take him again – he doesn’t want it to.
And with a powerful inhale. . . and exhale. . . he releases it into the Force; the anger is gone – dissipated. . . But his pain, his unrelenting and proliferating pain that has been anchored down since the night he’d lost Roan– since the night the murderer in front of him had taken him. . . he holds onto it. . .
Because to let it go, would be to let go of Roan.
Chapter Text
When Jenna’s cruiser is safely rooted in a bottomless mound of snow, on a rare mountaintop plateau of Toloran, Ferus is pleased to have more work to do. He wastes no time in getting started; he begins by preparing to brave the brutal temps, but with not having the proper winter gear for this impromptu excursion, he must resort to bundling up in the multiple layers that he does have. He’ll be all right – he can handle the cold. . . it’s the least of his woes.
Once dressed, Ferus first undocks his ship, maneuvering it so the ramps of the two vessels are only a few feet apart. This actually puts him in a closer proximity to the medical ward than if he’d remained stationed in the lower level of Jenna’s craft. Plus, it gives Ferus a sense of having his own separate dwelling space.
Now, the hard work begins. To keep from being detected by anyone who might happen to fly overhead, he camouflages the tops of the ships, painstakingly shoveling and hauling heaps of snow. Much like the issue with his attire, he does not have the adequate equipment for such a job, and it takes many trips of wading back and forth, and climbing up and down, to get it done.
Though he’s left the ships’ solar panels unburdened of snow, Ferus also sets up the generators as backups; it is currently ‘daytime,’ but the rays from Toloran’s one sun hardly reach them. Ferus isn’t sure if every day will be as dreary as this one. They may see clearer skies, but the opposite could also be true. . . Darker days may be ahead. . . in more ways than one.
The final item on Ferus’ agenda consists of more snow shoveling. He packs every available water storage container, and any other empty tote or barrel he can find, with as much snow as they will hold; those predicted rougher weather days could prevent him from getting back out to refill them. Jenna’s ship is equipped with a heating element that will melt the snow as it filters through the waterlines for domestic use. But Ferus has to practice his engineering skills to construct a similar contraption to get water to his own vessel.
All of these were necessary tasks, but they had also served as a way for Ferus to make himself scarce while Jenna disrobed Vader and restored Anakin. Ferus had already been having difficulty separating the two – he hadn’t wanted to see the process that linked them together. Jenna had been able to get him back in the suit; she could get him out on her own without his help.
Once Ferus has run through the plethora of outdoor activities, and simply can’t bear the cold any longer, he decides to check on Jenna’s progress, truly only willing because he feels confident Vader would have vacated by this point. . . He had apparently allotted ample time. . .
“I was just about to come looking for you.” Jenna doesn’t lift her head, but continues plucking away on her holopad.
Ferus’ eyes wander across the room to be sure. . . It is Anakin back in the patient bed, once again donning the med gown and receiving oxygen by a means other than the grisly helmet.
“We have a decision to make,” Jenna informs when Ferus doesn’t respond.
Ferus is tired of making decisions.
“I’ve already had my AZ unit put a first application of ointment on him; it should immediately soothe, and he should feel more comfortable when he wakes, but I wondered what your opinion was on the prosthetics.”
Ferus doesn’t want an opinion.
Jenna continues, “Clearly, he was in a lot of pain when he last awoke; I believe I’ve alleviated a fair amount of it, but I feel certain a major source of his discomfort was the prosthetics, and I’ve considered removing them. . . What would you consider the lesser of two evils? Waking with no limbs, or waking with limbs that are causing excruciating pain? Essentially: emotional or physical stress?”
Ferus takes the question seriously. It is a good one. “Do you think it’s really ‘excruciating?’” He tries not to cringe.
“Yes. I suspect it is.”
“Remove them, then??” Ferus isn’t sure – about anything anymore. “When will he wake?”
Jenna sets down her device and gathers materials to further deconstruct the essence of Vader. “No sooner than the top of the hour. We’ll have to keep him calm. I’ll need your help with that.”
“I’ll do my best. . . I’m guessing this will result in having to sedate him again?”
“Absolutely.”
“Isn’t there something you can give him that’s sort of in-between? Keep him sleepy, but not out?”
“That’s the plan, and we’ll give it a shot, but imagine yourself in his position – the adrenaline, that level of fear. . . It could easily override milder relaxing properties. He’s already awoken from a stronger than average anesthesia unprompted. He has a powerful mind. He fights. I think we’ll need to restrain him again; he could further injure himself without having the balance of his limbs if he tries to move.”
Ferus sighs. His participation in this rescue assignment tethers between being a good decision and a bad one just about every other minute. He’d thought he’d made peace with his choice to see this through, but keeps circling back to being just as conflicted as he’d started out.
His stomach turns as he watches Jenna remove the prosthetics. The force of the tool, and the awful sounds it creates to perform its duty, is an indication of the inhumane way the appliances had been attached. As she finishes, the AZ droid comes behind Jenna and applies her healing salve at the end of each limb.
“I suppose it’s time I make contact with Dr. Vaklin,” Jenna announces. “I’ll need you to stay here with him, just in case.”
“But you said he’d be out for—”
“Just in case,” Jenna repeats pointedly. “If you want to get the ball rolling, then let’s do it – or would you rather prolong our time here?”
Ferus goes quiet; Jenna is right. So far, the only time he’s put into this mission is set-up, and he’s already wondering how long it’ll be until it’s over.
Once Jenna departs, Ferus approaches Anakin, getting closer to him than he’d gotten on Coruscant. It is unfathomable that this is Anakin, the unstoppable student with the glistening tanned skin and pretty wavy hair. He had been impossibly strong. . . but now. . . he appears so very weak. Ferus is flooded with sympathy; Anakin will wake up thinking he still is that student – the mindset of the teenage boy he once was, but in this ruined and broken body. . . in this ruined and broken galaxy.
Twenty minutes or so elapse, and Ferus feels as if it’s been hours. There is nothing to do here but pace. . . or stare at Anakin. The droid had made small talk at first, but then had went into low-power mode. It’s quiet – too quiet. And silence has not been Ferus’ friend – stillness has not been his friend.
Ferus feels an unexplained rising tension. He ceases his pacing and strives for relaxation. He sits. There’s an available stool, but he opts for cross-legged on the floor. He closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. Even with muting his connection to the Force, he can still tap into it for light meditation. But the greater the connection to the Force, the more efficient meditation can be. . . and he knows this is something he needs. . .
Bit by bit, Ferus surrenders a piece of himself, slowly opening guarded compartments that are stashed with negativity and confusion, and letting the Force take hold to clear out what clutters his mind to replenish him with assurance and serenity. The more he lets himself be susceptible to these miraculous workings of the Force, the better he feels. . . and for a brief moment, he loses his grip on what shields his signature.
And a brief moment is all it takes.
As Jenna had said, Anakin’s willful subconscious continues to work, and he had apparently been searching for something to cling to, something or someone that could escort him back to this plane.
The lids on each of those cognitive compartments prematurely snap shut, and Ferus pulls himself from meditation and springs to his feet. Anakin’s eyes are twitching, then his body jolts; the restraints had been a good call, but Anakin is not restrained in the Force, and Ferus knows how strong it is within him. . . Even while shielding, Anakin can still sense him.
It’s as if Ferus is stealthily covered and wrapped tight in a blanket, while Anakin aggressively tugs on it to decipher who is hiding and why. Ferus is tempted to unveil – to help guide Anakin out of the frightening limbo where his body is not yet awake, but his mind is fully aware. After what he’d experienced the last time, Ferus is heedful of the risk involved, but Jenna had gone to great lengths to make Anakin’s pain less intense. . . So, Ferus figuratively reaches out a hand between the folds of fabric. . . and Anakin rips the entire blanket away.
Anakin grips him, almost chokes him, but moves along – a starving man looking for his favorite snack, Ferus not satisfying the hunger. He knows what Anakin covets; he feels his fear. . . fear of the absence of his Master.
“Anakin,” Ferus tries, hoping his voice will also aid in a swifter return. Vigorous breathing can be heard in response, and the beeping of the monitor reports that Anakin has broken through the comatose barrier. “Anakin. It’s okay.” Ferus sees the blue eyes are pierced with horror as they flicker open.
Anakin feels his fellow Padawan is there. He hears his call. He begins to recollect the most recent events. He remembers waking up in a hospital, with Ferus. . . and. . . Zan Arbor?
Anakin remembers pain, not so searing now as it was then, but he is not comfortable by any means. His throat still feels constricted, and that equally constricting mask is still on his face. He reaches for it, and his upset increases; he recalls his torso had been strapped down, and that hasn’t changed, but his arms seem to be bound now as well. A sharp cry escapes him.
“Anakin,” Ferus probes again. “You’re all right.” A muffled holler is the reply. “Anakin, it’s Ferus. Do you remember what I told you before? You’ve been in an accident, but you’re safe now, okay? You’re safe.”
Anakin tries to lift his head to see Ferus, but is reminded it is also restrained. He attempts to reach for the mask again, because he registers a difference in sensation. . . He feels his head, he’s aware of the flesh; he can blink his eyes and move his lips. His neck can still turn, even held in place. . . but his arms. . . Something isn’t right.
In comparison, the awful aching at his elbows is lessened, but a new type of pain he can’t reconcile has taken over – a phantom feeling. “My arms,” Anakin whimpers under the breathing apparatus.
Ferus takes in his own breath; he’s heard what Anakin has said. “Anakin, the accident was very bad. You’re safe, but you aren’t well. Do you understand?” He gently pulls the mask away, having a hunch Anakin had been trying to do so himself.
Anakin gasps, jerking his head again. “What happened, Ferus? What happened?” he wails.
“It’s very important for you to stay calm,” Ferus relays. “It won’t be easy to catch your breath if you panic. Your lungs. . . they could collapse. You have to be careful.”
“Collapse? What? Why? Why do my arms feel like this?” Anakin blubbers. “My legs. They hurt. It all hurts,” he pants. Anakin knows hurt isn’t the right word, but he can’t explain this eerie, empty sort of pain. . . this aching. . . absence?? Then, Ferus confirms it.
“They were. . . amputated,” Ferus decides. He doesn’t know what really happened, but it’s the only fitting word he can think of to describe Anakin’s current state.
Anakin pushes his head against the restraint again, trying to see what he doesn’t believe. He yelps. He cries.
Ferus reaches out a hand, but it stops short before coming in contact with the warped and wounded skin. “Anakin.” Instruments clatter on the bedside surgical table. “Oh, Anakin. Don’t.”
“Let me up!! Let me—” Anakin struggles more forcefully, desperate to get free, as the alert on the monitor reaches its pinnacle.
The utility table flips, the tools hitting the ground with a chorus of pings. “Anakin!” Ferus grasps his shoulders, not necessarily to hold him, but to try to make him feel grounded and safe. He tries not to flinch at the raw ridges of flesh beneath his fingers. . . along with Anakin latching onto him in the Force. Anakin is trying to find his center, but he needs help. The news is undeniably devastating, and Ferus can understand his fright. He finds himself making soothing shushing sounds as he allows for a more mutual link in the Force to form as well.
Anakin has not stopped weeping, but his breaths soften.
“I’m going to help you sit up, okay?” Ferus narrates. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do. All right?”
Ferus gently moves his hands to properly close the gown that has come open, an effort to make sure the equipment affixed to Anakin’s chest remains hidden for now. He unfastens the strap of the cranial restraint, keeping one hand on Anakin’s shoulder as he does. “Stay down. This bed should raise. Trust me.” Ferus looks for the control and elevates the head of the bed.
Anakin knows he’s awake, but wills this to be a nightmare; it is instinctive to brace himself with his arms as the bed moves, making him more attentive to his loss of control. He’s never felt so disoriented before – not even when Zan Arbor had had him under the influence of her contentment drug. He was sure she had been here the first time he’d awoken, but takes a small amount of pleasure in not seeing her here now.
Anakin’s eyes glance over the white tunic he’s wearing, concealing all that is left of his flesh. Everything beneath the tunic throbs. He continues to try to move his limbs on reflex, but the ghost feeling that’s left, once his brain sends the signal that something should be happening and it isn’t, sends a jolt of frustration through his body. He moans, colossal tears clouding his vision and sobs wrecking his speech. He tries to fix his eyes on Ferus, his silhouette fuzzy and distorted. “Ferus?” Anakin pitifully croaks.
Ferus is taking deep breaths again. “Yes,” he responds simply. “I’m here.”
“What happened to me?”
Ferus looks into the weepy eyes, the only part of Anakin that is still recognizable. “I honestly don’t know,” he answers truthfully. The statement is loaded. . . He doesn’t know how Anakin got like this – how he was injured. . . how he turned Sith.
“Where is Obi-Wan?”
The name triggers an emotion Ferus has to abruptly shove aside. “He’s okay,” he replies. It’s a relief that this is the truth, because Ferus doesn’t have any other good news for Anakin. “But he’s not here right now.”
“Why? I need him.” Anakin’s chest starts pumping again, the choking that comes with it unavoidable.
“He can’t be here,” Ferus repeats as gently as he can muster. But the response doesn’t pacify Anakin, and Ferus knows what he needs to hear, but doesn’t want to lie.
“Where is he?” Anakin asks again. “I can’t feel him at all!”
“It’s dangerous for him to make his presence detectable through the Force.” Ferus sees this further terrifies. “I promise he’s safe – as long as he doesn’t access the Force.” He wants to tell Anakin he probably shouldn’t access the Force either, but doesn’t want to overwhelm him more than he already has. “It isn’t safe for him to be here. Do you understand that?”
Anakin tries to grasp the concept. What is happening? Why can’t Obi-Wan use the Force? What is keeping them apart? “Are we still on Romin?”
Ferus feels chills. “No, Anakin. That mission is complete,” he informs at almost a whisper.
“But I got hurt,” Anakin assumes. “And Obi-Wan is. . .” He wants to riddle it out, but no matter how he tries, he doesn’t understand.
“Your injuries aren’t from that mission,” Ferus reveals. “Some time has passed from what you remember.”
“H-how much time??”
“A good bit.”
“Was I in a coma??”
“No, you just don’t remember. You’ve suffered some memory loss.”
“How much time?” Anakin reiterates sharply – distraught and flustered. “How much time has passed?” The monitor indicates his heartrate is rising again.
Ferus tries to subdue once more, shushing Anakin with a hand barely grazing his shoulder.
“Tell me,” Anakin snivels. “Just tell me how long,” he cries.
“It’s been. . . a few. . . years.”
“Years?!” Anakin shrieks, then begins to bawl.
Ferus’ own eyes water. “I know you have a lot of questions. I know you’re scared.” His voice falters. “But it would be best if you just rest now. This is a lot, and we need to take it a little at a time.”
Jenna resurfaces and rushes over when she sees Anakin awake.
Anakin is frantic; he hadn’t been imagining it before – she was here. . . wherever here was.
“It’s okay,” Ferus placates. “She’s here to help. She can get you well, and right now, she can help you relax.”
“No,” Anakin whines. “No, please. Ferus,” he begs.
“Just rest for a little while, okay?”
“We’ll do the mild sedative this time, as discussed,” Jenna promises.
“You won’t be out; you’ll just be able to better calm your mind and body,” Ferus rephrases for Anakin’s sake.
“Please stay with me,” Anakin requests. The only way he can even begin to accept this is if Ferus stays with him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Ferus returns somberly.
Anakin feels the drug hit his veins. It’s the first time his brain can unscramble the sensation of his lost limbs; he can feel the medication spread and where it abruptly stops, and he does indeed relax. He feels his eyes grow heavy. “Obi-Wan is all right,” he suddenly feels the need to confirm, though he does so groggily.
“Yes. Obi-Wan is all right.”
“When can I see him?”
“I don’t know. Hopefully soon.”
“But you’ve seen him? You talked to him?”
“Yes.”
Anakin calms, quiet for a beat. “I’m not seventeen?” he then wonders.
“No. Not anymore.”
“Does Obi-Wan know about the accident?”
Ferus should’ve expected Obi-Wan to be the hot topic of conversation. He tries to hide his underlying uncertainty on the subject. “I’m not sure what Obi-Wan knows.”
“But you know he’s safe.”
“Yes,” Ferus reassures once again.
Anakin nods as he falls into a lighter sleep. “Thank. . . thank you. . . Fess.”
Ferus raises an eyebrow at the name. Had Anakin confused him with someone else? Or perhaps he’d pronounced his name wrong in his fatigued state. Either way, the ‘thank you’ was unmistakable – and that wasn’t a sentiment Anakin Skywalker usually reserved for him.
“Are you all right?” Jenna’s question startles Ferus.
“Yeah,” Ferus answers quickly.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I was sure he wouldn’t wake—”
Ferus is the one to interrupt Jenna for once. “It was my fault; he felt me tap into the Force when I was trying to meditate.”
“Fascinating.” Jenna’s eyes widen.
Ferus shudders at remembering her past obsession with the workings of the Force. “I think we should just let him wake periodically and give him pieces of information at a time.” He attempts to pull her back to their current debacle.
“I agree. . . I did reach Dr. Vaklin, and he has been briefed on the situation. He says we can have a more in depth call tomorrow. He seems interested.” Jenna can tell Ferus is shaken. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Ferus doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he feels. Overwhelmed, to start. “I think I. . . I just need a minute.” He turns to leave. “You. . . You’ll watch out for him?” His worry for Anakin naturally rolls off his tongue.
“Yes, I’ll be working in here,” Jenna informs.
“Okay,” Ferus says plainly and takes a step forward. “Okay.” He aimlessly continues on. He doesn’t know if he’s up for this after all.
Chapter 7
Notes:
Hello! Today, I was a stubborn and determined Scorpio, and worked way too hard and posted TWO chapters. So, if you saw an update and came to this latest one, go back to Chapter 6 first!
Chapter Text
Ferus’ getaway takes him as far as the interior of his own ship – not very far. The craft is bare bones, a base model with a modest kitchenette, a somewhat more sizable living space with circular bench seating and hideaway table, a tiny, single bunkhouse for the pilot alone, and a microscopic refresher.
There isn’t much to do inside like there had been outside. . . He sorts through the rations that had come pre-stocked with the ship and combines it with a few of his own. He pulls linens out of the storage cubby and makes up the sleeper. Then, he stows away his luggage and clothing in the now vacant closet.
Ferus doesn’t require much, and he has all the materials he’ll need for now, but a restock may be necessary depending on how long they’re stuck on Toloran. Availability of supplies isn’t an issue; they could travel down to the ‘vacation town’ for essentials, but it bothers Ferus that he would have to rely on Jenna for funding.
Ferus has his own fair share of assets, but he doesn’t currently have access to them. Since working on the Imperial side, all of his rebel associations, including his and Roan’s shared credits, have been stored away, left in the hands of Dona Telamark, a former client of Olin and Lands and now a member of the Eleven.
Dona was a remarkable and faithful friend who’d been there for Ferus and Roan through thick and thin. She was an older woman, feisty, tough. . . but warm. . . maternal. She was famous for showing her love by way of a hearty meal, and never willing to accept a decline to eat whatever she’d prepared – typically soup. Way too much soup.
Ferus smiles for the first time since arriving on Toloran at thinking of Dona and her soup. . . He’d really wanted to make it back to base, and presently, he is feeling grumpy and frustrated by the predicament he’s gotten himself into. What he’d just went through with Anakin was overwhelming to say the least. He’d envisioned it going pretty much just as it had, but he’d apparently underestimated just how much it would affect him.
In just two short hours, Ferus finds himself back on Jenna’s ship, sleep-deprived and mentally drained. He automatically enters the quiet patient room, his feet having carried him there more than his freewill. The AZ droid is there. Jenna is not. Anakin appears more peaceful somehow – brow a bit less furrowed than before. There is now a blanket covering him, and Ferus wonders if this was the work of Jenna or her droid.
It’s a relief to only see Anakin’s face – battered, yes, but this way, he can imagine the body below the blanket still intact. He watches Anakin’s chest move up and down, noting the better-controlled breathing. . . the familiar pace. . .
. . . of loud, echoing hisses, the rapid slash of a saber, the cry of his lover. . . and his color-drained face as they say their final goodbye. . .
“Master Olin??” Jenna tries for the third time. “Ferus!”
Ferus whips his head around. “Yes?? Oh, I. . . I didn’t know you were in here.”
“Yes, I’ve been running more tests in preparation for the surgery. I heard back from Dr. Vaklin while you were away - sooner than expected; he’s ready and willing. When do you think you’d want to move forward?”
Ferus internally scoffs. Since when did he become next of kin? As if he’s in charge. . . as if Anakin belongs to him. No, he’s already made enough decisions. Shouldn’t Anakin start making them for himself? Ferus had been so keen on getting him well, but maybe Anakin didn’t want to take this risk. “I – I thought we’d discuss it with him.” Ferus’ tone is even compared to his curt inner monologue.
Jenna’s mouth goes in a thin line. “Um, I’m not sure he’s equipped for discussions right now, as we’ve last seen.”
“You said it’s a risky procedure.” Now, Ferus’ irritably breaks through. “He needs to make the choice if he wants to do it. Not me.”
“You were adamant about this before. . .” Jenna eyes him suspiciously. “What changed?”
“Nothing,” Ferus defends passionately. . . even though he feels like everything has changed. “I just think he’s coherent enough now to decide for himself.”
“I’m not sure I agree, and if you plan to talk to him in stages. . . This could take a while.”
“Right. I know. You have somewhere else to be,” Ferus growls sarcastically.
“Don’t you?” Jenna fires back.
Anywhere else. Ferus wants to be anywhere else. He sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m just. . .”
Jenna softens as well. “Look. I get it. I understand feeling torn in helping him.”
But Jenna doesn’t understand – she has no idea. Jenna believes Ferus is torn over helping Vader: Sith and evil agent of the Empire. But to Ferus, Vader was much more than that.
Ferus turns on his heel to depart. He’d only just come back, but already, he needs out. “Let’s just. . . see where he is next time he wakes up – should be soon right? Won’t make much of a difference to decide this now or revisit it then.”
Ferus doesn’t let the woman respond. He marches off, despising how bothered he looks and sounds. He can’t do this. How long will he have to do this? This incessant seesaw of running from ship to ship with nowhere else to go. The perpetual madness of his own ambivalent mind. In long strides, he makes his exit, but does not return to his own craft, instead remaining out in the cold, welcoming a physical consequence to his actions rather than an emotional one.
It is blistering, and it has just started to snow. The wind is icy and is already burning the tips of his ears and nose. He burrows into his jacket and moves underneath his ship to better block the gusts and precipitation. He belligerently wrestles his communication device from his pocket. A wrathful finger hovers over the display, then wavers. . . before furiously hitting the frequency.
And the two-faced and too-busy man answers at a surprisingly fast rate.
“I’ve been waiting for your call,” Obi-Wan breathes in relief. He’d heard the awful news about Roan, and it had taken a great effort not to reach out, but he couldn’t risk blowing Ferus’ Imperial cover.
The other end of the line is silent, but Obi-Wan knows Ferus is there. “Darling, I’m so sorry.”
Ferus fumes. He should be sorry. How different would things be right now if Obi-Wan had shared this one vital detail with him? “Sorry for what, Obi-Wan? Sorry your apprentice killed my husband?” He rushes the questions and tries to keep his voice void of emotion, because if he lets once small ounce of it come to the surface, it will inevitably bubble over. . . And what exactly would spill out?
The cold way he says it is a knife to Obi-Wan’s heart. But specifically, what he’s said leaves a lump in his throat that nearly gags him; Ferus had found out the burdensome truth. . . and he’d known Obi-Wan had kept it from him. He’d only been trying to protect him, but a rambled defense would fall on deaf ears. Ferus is hurt, angry, full of grief, and won’t want to hear his excuses.
“Aren’t you going to say anything? Why didn’t you tell me?!” Ferus’ screams feel lost upon the mountaintops. “Why are you so intent on lying to me?! What are you doing over there while I’m in the thick of it!?” He shouts louder, then his resolves crumbles, and he stifles a sob.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please. Tell me where you are, and I will be there.”
“It’s too late now,” Ferus contends, better composed; he won’t— can’t let a single tear fall. “I begged you to come with me, but you refused, blamed it on your own secret mission, and now I wonder if there’s even a mission at all. How can I trust you again?” Ferus’ voice cracks, and he realizes that it is this in particular that devastates him the most. Obi-Wan was one of a select few that he could place his trust in – and probably the only one left from his Jedi past that he’d always placed his trust in.
Obi-Wan is at a loss in how to respond. He’d been prepared to help Ferus in the aftermath of Roan’s death, but he’d not been prepared for the aftermath of Anakin. He wants to offer Ferus something to prove his loyalty, but he can’t tell him about Luke over a channel that may or may not be traced. They have to be careful in even using each other’s names – which Ferus has ardently let slip once. “There is a mission,” Obi-Wan begins delicately. “And I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t right now. There is someone here who needs me, but I feel you may need me more, and I want to be there for you.”
“You can’t,” Ferus chokes out. “Goodbye.” He cuts the connection and throws the comm in the snow.
Ferus steps out from the shelter and plops down on his rear end, sinking in the freshly fallen fluff. He pulls his knees to his chest and buries his head between them.
Guilt immediately finds him. He’d heard the remorse in Obi-Wan’s voice, but he doesn’t want to hear his apologies right now. He instead lets the sound of the whipping wind drown out everything else around him. He lets the frigid air consume him and freeze his boiling blood.
But as time passes, Ferus is very aware of his purple fingers and numb toes, and with not having the appropriate footwear for this type of climate, he could be in danger of losing them. Beyond that, he realizes his rebellious tantrum is pointless. No one is coming for him. There is no one there to comfort him. He’s on his own. Part of him wishes he’d given Obi-Wan the coordinates. He’s sure he’ll want the company sooner than later; they hadn’t even been on Toloran for a quarter rotation and he already feels insane.
But Obi-Wan can’t know where he is until he knows about Anakin, and now is not the right time. It would be better to wait, to first have Anakin get past his more fragile state; it would only be upsetting for Obi-Wan to see Anakin this way. . . But maybe Obi-Wan wouldn’t want to see Anakin at all.
Ferus groans as he unburies his comlink from the snow. Just when he’d thought things couldn’t get any more complicated. . . When he’d made the decision to help Anakin, he’d been counting on Obi-Wan’s eventual assistance; he’d felt confident and auspicious about reuniting Master and Padawan, but Obi-Wan might not want anything to do with his fallen pupil.
Another round of confusion and guilt assault his psyche at a fleeting thought of both him and Obi-Wan being ‘let off the hook’ if the surgery wasn’t successful, but there is a subsequent stab of pain at the prospect.
Ferus treks back into his transport, trudging to the captain’s cabin and throwing himself on the bed. His latest poor choice had driven him into exhaustion overload. His brain simply could not house any further regrets or dilemmas to decrypt. He hasn’t slept in almost two rotations, and his body finally surrenders to the slumber it so desperately craves.
It is even darker than it had already been when Ferus stirs – nightfall in the coldest region of Toloran, the already dim light of the afternoon replaced with a black evening in the wilderness. Ferus sluggishly sits up, still feeling tired and emotionally spent, but Anakin had probably woken up and already gone back to sleep by now, and maybe Jenna needed her own break. He puts on extra layers and moves to the neighboring ship.
“Well, what does Ferus think?”
Ferus hears the familiar and feeble voice as he enters the medical wing of the ship.
“Ferus feels the decision is yours.”
Jenna must’ve explained the potentials of the procedure. Ferus isn’t bothered to have missed some of this conversation. Had he been there when Anakin first awoke, he likely would’ve started asking for Obi-Wan again, then started asking about what he missed over the last seven years; it had worked out that Jenna had been there to keep the conversation business-like.
“I think I’d like to wait to talk with my Master first,” Anakin decides.
Ferus can’t help but roll his eyes.
“Is Ferus coming??” Anakin now asks Jenna hopefully.
Ferus elects to make his presence known before Anakin further frustrates the poor woman. “I’m right here.” Their eyes meet, and Ferus is surprised at the way Anakin brightens, and he is equally taken aback how his own heart flutters to see him up and alert, with dry eyes and speaking somewhat normally without having to gasp for his next breath.
“Master Olin,” Jenna starts. “I was just explaining the details of the operation to Anakin.”
Ferus gives a crisp nod.
“Do you think. . . ?” Anakin pauses to ponder. “I think Obi-Wan needs to know before I do anything.”
Ferus exhales. “Obi-Wan might not be able to get here right away, and I’m not sure we should wait if this is something you want to do.” Ferus sees Anakin lower his head. “I know this is very strange for you, but you aren’t a Padawan in his care anymore. You’re a man, and you can make your own choices.” So much for dry eyes; Ferus sees the unbidden tears spill over. His own shoulders droop, and he moves closer to Anakin – annoyed at his own natural instinct to comfort him.
“I’ll be in my lab if you need anything,” Jenna prompts and leaves the two men to themselves.
“I’m so confused, Ferus,” Anakin cries.
You think you’re confused? Ferus doesn’t speak, careful of the underlying agitation he can’t seem to shake.
“You said I’m not Obi-Wan’s Padawan anymore. . . Did I become a Knight?”
Finally, a question Ferus can easily answer. “Yes, you did.” You became a Jedi, and then you became a Sith, he wants to add with attitude.
“And you did, too.” Anakin moves his head to gesture, because he doesn’t have an arm that can do the job. “Your braid. . .”
“My braid was cut long ago. . .” I lopped it off myself after you pushed me out of the Order.
“Your hair is. . . different,” Anakin notes. “The gold streak is. . .”
“White,” Ferus finishes. “Yeah.” He folds his arms to keep from reaching up, as to not be reminded that Roan’s fingers will never again graze the contrasting stands. He’d always said he preferred silver to the golden color – that it made him look distinguished.
Ferus realizes his grief-stricken eyes are likely betraying him as they tend to do. He tries to combat the dejection, “It happens. . . with age. . . stress. . .” He shrugs, but squirms at his mistake in the implication of passed time.
Anakin wants to blurt the question, but refrains at seeing Ferus’ pain-marked face. “I’m sorry you’re stressed,” he musters considerably.
You should be; it’s basically all your fault.
STOP!
Ferus inwardly chastises himself. He is undoubtedly angry. He’d lashed out at Obi-Wan, and now he was being short with Anakin. But he’s done with these rude, unspoken comments. It wasn’t Anakin’s fault. Anakin was actually trying to show him remorse, and earlier, he’d been trying to express his gratitude.
“I’m fine.” Ferus relaxes his posture and makes his voice sound more warm. “I was just. . . you know, joking.”
“You do that now?” Anakin ventures to tease.
Ferus actually laughs. “Yeah, I do.”
Anakin’s lips curl ever so slightly. “Your hair isn’t the only thing that’s different, then.”
“No.” The word and Ferus’ smile are both soft.
“So. . . How old are you?” Anakin asks the question he’d tried to withhold, but he needs to know; the answer will allow him determine how old he is himself. . . and how many years have gone by.
Ferus hesitates, but there is no point in hiding it now. “I’m. . . twenty-six.”
Anakin’s already pale face goes completely white. “Seven years,” he huffs out in shock.
“Anakin,” Ferus warns at hearing the monitor activate again.
“Why are we here, Ferus?” Anakin blubbers. “Zan Arbor said we’re on Toloran, but can’t we go back to the Temple? Something bad has happened, hasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Ferus is barely audible. Anakin’s intuition had always been spot-on.
“We can’t go home, can we?”
Ferus shakes his head.
“There’s so much you aren’t saying; I can tell, but what can you tell me? Please tell me something I’ll understand.”
Ferus decides to stick to the present, because the past is too painful – for the both of them. “From what I understand,” he begins gently, as the beeping on the monitor regulates. “If you have this surgery, you won’t have to rely on a respirator like you do now, and you can begin rehabilitation with new prosthetics, and get yourself feeling much better.”
“You think I should do it?”
“The alternative is staying hooked to a machine all your life.”
“But I could die.”
“You won’t die,” Ferus gives the promise that Anakin surely knows is false. “You’re too stubborn to die.” He smirks.
Anakin chortles and begins coughing.
With the familiar pang of sympathy, Ferus moves in with the oxygen support and secures it over Anakin’s face. A minute or so passes, and he’d thought Anakin might drift off to sleep, but Ferus hears him trying to speak, so he pulls the mask down again.
“Ferus?”
Ferus only looks at him.
“Are we friends now? Or did you just get stuck with me on whatever mission we were on?”
It is the understatement of the millennia and Ferus suppresses an ironic cackle. “What makes you think we’d be friends after all our differences?” he asks lighthearted and cocky.
Anakin chuckles. “It was something Tru said to me; he said I’d understand you someday, and we’d become friends. . . I was just wondering if he predicted right.”
Ferus buries his sorrow for their departed and loyal friend. “Well, do you feel like you understand me now?” he dodges the question with his own.
“I mean, I wouldn’t actually know,” Anakin sputters a low laugh. “But somehow. . . Yes?”
Ferus is reluctant to confirm. In the past, he would’ve gladly accepted an invitation to be Anakin’s friend. . . had he ever been cordial with him the way he was being right now. What was Anakin sensing that made him feel like he suddenly understood him?
In the interim of a reply, Anakin shifts on the bed and wobbles, causing the blanket to slip down to his lap. Ferus urgently moves to put it back in place.
“No,” Anakin rasps.
Ferus falters and waits, hands still hovering over him at the ready.
“I know there’s something under there you don’t want me to see. I saw how you made sure the gown was covering me before you sat me up earlier.” Anakin sees Ferus avert his eyes. “Every inch of my flesh hurts; I can’t imagine with it looks like, but I want to see. I’ve already tried to move the blanket myself. . . but the Force doesn’t feel the same,” Anakin reports sadly.
“I should probably tell you. . . it’s important that you limit your use of the Force right now.”
Anakin’s face further contorts.
“I know that’s not what you want to hear, but just like it isn’t safe for Obi-Wan, it isn’t safe for us either. I still use it, but I’m. . . careful. You need to be careful, too.”
“And you can’t tell me why.”
“Not at the moment.”
“But you can show me what’s under this gown.”
Ferus visibly shrinks.
“I’m going to see eventually.”
Anakin will learn and observe many things, eventually. Ferus surmises this is the best place to start having gotten the obstacle of time out of the way. What Anakin doesn’t know can’t yet hurt him, but his injuries do hurt him, every moment. He might as well see what he's up against.
Ferus unwraps the top portion of the tunic and hears Anakin sob.
“What is this??” Anakin cries as he strains his neck to see. He sees hideous black ports all along his torso, and the shadows of more, just out of his field of vision under his chin. What he can see is grotesque flesh – mutilated and deformed. Now, he knows why he’s been hurting so badly, understands the stinging and stiffness. His entire midsection is covered in the gruesome wounds, and he realizes the rest of him – his shoulders, his face, his head – is all the same. It all holds the same sensitivity.
Anakin breaks down, and Ferus struggles not to break down with him, always having felt burdened beyond typical Jedi compassion. Whatever happened to Vader, Ferus can’t say whether or not he deserved it, but Anakin – Anakin surely did not.
Ferus watches him weep, not knowing what to offer. Anakin’s disbelieving eyes meet his own. He’s waiting for further explanation that Ferus doesn’t have. Ferus continues to stay in the present. “If you have the operation, all of that can be removed. And Zan Arbor says she can do skin grafts and has a treatment plan for the scarring.” Tears are still streaming over Anakin’s cheeks, and he is silent. “We can get you better, back on your feet. It’ll just take time.”
“I’ve already lost so much time,” Anakin pouts. “How do we. . . Since when is Zan Arbor on our side?” His voice is high-pitched and worried. “How can we trust her to do all of this??”
“We can,” Ferus soothes. “She wants to help. And I’m. . .” he swallows hard. “I’m going to be right here with you every step of the way.” And Ferus knows it won’t be easy, but he’s going to suck it up, and stop his sulking, and he’s going to do it.
Anakin sucks back tears. “Thank you,” he sniffles.
And despite Ferus’ warning about accessing the Force, he feels a warmth from Anakin wrap around his heart.
Chapter Text
It wasn’t long before Anakin drifted off to sleep, naturally this time. . . and for the night. Ferus knows this, because he had stayed at Anakin’s bedside through the entirety of the night. Each time he’d plan to make a move back to his own ship, Anakin would twitch or whimper in his sleep, and Ferus would stay.
It is technically sunrise, though the light does not reach the far side of the planet, when Jenna finds Ferus right where she’d last seen him – with bloodshot eyes housing dark circles underneath. He is still in the same attire from. . . well, from when they’d first been reintroduced back on Coruscant.
“Do Imperial crafts not come equipped with basic hygiene amenities?” Jenna quips.
Ferus eyes her with a frown.
“You stink. And you look like hell. You’ve been here all night,” she accuses.
Ferus doesn’t say anything.
“Please, for all our sakes, go get yourself cleaned up. Go get some rest. I’ll take it from here.”
“I can’t sleep,” Ferus tells her miserably.
“Well, you can shower.”
Ferus chuckles. “Yeah. I can do that.”
“Here.” Jenna approaches with a held-out hand.
Ferus looks at her in question.
“Take half.”
“No, I don—”
“Yes,” Jenna adamantly interrupts, as she tends to do. “You won’t lose the day. It’ll help you rest well for a shorter period of time so you can get back on track. You can thank me later.” Ferus is still looking at her defiantly. “Would you like me to force feed it? Or perhaps crush it up and put it in your food like you’re an unsuspecting animal?”
Ferus places the pill on his tongue and swallows.
“You’ll thank me later,” Jenna repeats.
With a last look at Anakin, Ferus ventures out into the cold.
Back on his own transport, Ferus gathers materials for a quick shower, but in just those few, short minutes, fatigue threatens – the crash is coming, and he suddenly feels nauseous. Dropping his clothes and toiletries on the floor, he changes direction and stumbles to the pilot’s sleep cabin, falling over onto the bed stomach first with his feet dangling off the edge. He fights to keep his eyes open as he sets an alarm for two and a half hours. He enters the time, but before he can activate it, his long-fought battle with insomnia comes to an end.
Six hours later, Ferus rolls over in a cotton-mouthed stupor. A heavy hand moves for his holo device. . . When he sees the time, he nearly hits his head on the roof of the bunk – it’s almost noon! His first instinct is to hurry over to Anakin; however, Jenna would likely spray him with a hose if he showed up unwashed. . . and he’s hungry – in truth, maybe for the first time in weeks.
Ferus nearly trips over his abandoned items in the small corridor on his way to the kitchenette, puzzled at how they’d ended up on the ground in the first place. He retrieves them and sets them on the table for later use, then opens a ration pack complete with polystarch, nuna jerky, and a pouch of moonberry juice. He’d mostly enjoyed the juice. . . the others, up for debate.
When Ferus finally makes it to the refresher and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he thinks Anakin had been very kind in only commenting on his change in hair color.
He looks ghastly.
That ‘white’ streak of hair is so greasy, it looks more a light blond. Patchy, overgrown stubble litters the lower portion of his face, unarguably doing him a service by helping to conceal his dull, uneven skin tone. He can’t imagine how much more swollen his eyes had looked before he’d gotten adequate rest.
Ferus adjusts the water temperature control as hot as it can go and lets the compact room fill with steam before climbing into the miniature stall. He moans when the scalding droplets hit him; this shower was long overdue.
Once his face is smooth, and his body free from grime, Ferus remains in the stall, further benefiting from the effects of the rejuvenating water. He turns to let it coat his back, wrapping his arms around himself and clutching at his shoulders. He closes his eyes as his mind wanders into what he classifies as dangerous territory. . .
He is back home on Bellassa, in the comfort of his own refresher, the hands that massage his neck, not his own, but Roan’s.
Staggered, Ferus’ anguished eyes shoot open. He abruptly turns the water dial to cold, yelps, but successfully shoves away his devastating thoughts, then exits the ‘fresher.
After he is dressed, Ferus feels renewed. There is an emerging sense of readiness. He still isn’t sure if he’ll sink or swim, but he finally feels prepared to brave the unknown waters, his stint with the Empire behind him and his new mission well underway.
When he returns to the medical wing, he can hear Anakin asking for him just as he had been the day before.
“Have you heard from Ferus? Do you think he’ll come soon?”
This time, Ferus feels fairly flattered at the inquiry rather than annoyed, a slight smile forming on his lips. “I’m here,” he announces as he enters.
Anakin immediately notices how Ferus arrives with a straighter posture and with his head held higher. They’d established he’d changed from his teen years, but this change is one just since the prior rotation.
Ferus had always appeared the confident student. He’d walked a very narrow path of good conquers bad, or light trumps dark, and he wasn’t afraid to point it out if others weren’t doing what he perceived as true and correct. It had driven Anakin crazy most of the time – Ferus was always watching him, seemingly waiting for him to make a mistake.
But now. . . even in being mindful of his use of the Force, Anakin senses a complete turnaround.
The Ferus before him didn’t feel so prim and finite. It was as if Anakin could see a gray fog that had clouded his former black and white point of view. Anakin had a hunch that whatever had taken place over the last seven years had put a damper on Ferus’ tendency to abide by a strict set of standards.
Most importantly, Anakin felt emotion. In so closely following the rules, Ferus wasn’t as often driven by his heart, but rather, was one to think critically when factoring decisions. But with this new middle ground, Anakin could now sense an unmistakable passion. . . a trait he’d always felt Ferus had judged him by.
And so, here was the ‘understanding’ Anakin had been trying to decipher the day before; Anakin felt he could now understand Ferus, simply because Ferus better understood him; Ferus could better relate to him, and Ferus wasn’t judging him. As a result, Anakin didn’t feel so on edge having him around. Ferus was still watching him, but he was watching out for him.
Zan Arbor had placed the oxygen mask back on his face just as Ferus had come in. Anakin observes the two of them talking now, trying to listen over the sound of air swooshing through his nose and mouth. Zan Arbor is telling Ferus about the tests she’d run on his digestive system.
Anakin hadn’t understood why it was so groundbreaking when she’d concluded that he could eat solid foods, but Ferus also seems pleased at the news; Anakin registers he’s trying to repress a smile – for him, for his well-being. Each time Anakin had awoken, Ferus had assured him that he was ‘safe,’ and Anakin finds he truly feels well-protected in his care.
Ferus’ fingers thread through his damp hair, sweeping the significantly longer locks straight back, the silver streak now settled in the center of his head, save for a few pesky strands that fall over onto his brow. Anakin examines his better exposed face, and takes in the difference in the Padawan boy to the Jedi Knight of a man.
Ferus had always been tall, but Anakin had also viewed him as petite – even his facial features were small in size, and sort of soft. But now he held a more angular jaw, and that aforementioned brow was wrinkled. The eyes were unchanged – a striking brown that beautifully accented his silky, chestnut hair. He had the same slender nose and perfectly proportioned ears. The lips. . . looked a bit. . . fuller. . .
Anakin rapidly blinks, but instead of tearing his eyes away, they travel south. He takes inventory of the very un-Jedi-like attire, a more rugged look adopted in its place. Ferus has just removed a dark tan trench, now draped over the arm of a black, military style shirt jacket, highlighted with a crisp popped collar in white – both garments well-tailored to hug his muscular torso. The coordinating black trousers are also a better fit in comparison to the baggy, Temple-issued leggings Anakin was accustomed to seeing him in.
Anakin squirms as Ferus steps towards him, suddenly feeling flushed as he watches the natural part in his hair take shape, sending all the remaining silver back cascading over his temple, to accentuate his strong cheekbones.
“Are you okay?” Ferus questions at noticing how Anakin’s eyes have sort of glassed over. He removes his mask so he can answer.
“Yeah,” Anakin chirps.
“Jenna said you had breakfast this morning,” Ferus notes fondly.
“Mhmm,” Anakin answers quickly.
“Are you sure you’re feeling all right? You look a little. . . red. Warm?” Ferus pulls Anakin’s blanket down from chin to shoulders to try to help him cool off.
Anakin appreciates the simple gesture. “I’m okay. . . mostly, anyway. . . you know, besides all the obvious issues.”
Ferus purses his lips. “Yeah. . . Jenna just told me; Dr. Vaklin is supposed to stop in soon, and surgery in the morning if he feels confident. . . How are you feeling about that?”
“I’m. . . not sure.” Anakin looks at Ferus helplessly. “I’m gonna do it – I have to do it; Zan Arbor says I might not get another chance if I change my mind. Apparently, she and Dr. Vaklin are taking care of all the expenses.”
Ferus nods. “That’s true.”
“Which doesn’t really make any sense to me?” Anakin chuckles nervously. “Are we sure her memory wasn’t lost as well?”
Ferus laughs. He is amazed how Anakin can still find humor is such a difficult and scary situation.
“She said. . .” Anakin pauses in dismay. “She said my memories won’t come back – whatever kind of memory loss I have, it’s not the kind where they can come back. . .”
“I know,” Ferus says sadly.
“It’s not so bad,” Anakin tries to brush it off. “I don’t know what I missed, so how can I be sad I can’t remember it?” He shrugs downcast. “I just wish. . .” His lip quivers, and he looks up to see Ferus’ eyes are pained. “I wish Obi-Wan were here, and—” Anakin is overcome and can’t continue.
Ferus reaches for a tissue on the bedside table; Anakin can’t even dry his own tears. He dabs his cheeks on his behalf.
“I am glad you’re here, Ferus,” Anakin blubbers. “If I didn’t have you, I don’t know how I. . .” He sniffles, and feels the tissue graze below his nose. It’s humiliating – to not be able to wipe his own running nose. But there again, he feels no judgement from Ferus, alternatively comforted by him.
Ferus is uneasy with the subject matter; so, he changes it. “Are you hungry?” he tries. “Let’s have some lunch, huh? I slept right through breakfast.”
“And you missed dinner because you were here with me all night,” Anakin comments. “Zan Arbor told me.”
“I told you I’d stay with you,” Ferus responds hushed.
“You did. . . Thanks.” The words come heartfelt. “What do you have to eat?” Anakin muses inquisitively, after a silent moment. “That breakfast Zan Arbor was so excited about wasn’t so great.”
Ferus laughs. “I’m sure I can’t offer you anything much better.”
“Can I chew it?”
“Yeah. . .” Ferus raises a brow.
“Then, it’s better.”
Ferus shakes his head with a grin.
*
Anakin is very pleased with the joppa stew from one of Ferus’ ration packs. He’d wanted the jerky blend, but the stew was a better compromise from Jenna’s nutrient paste.
By the time Dr. Vaklin arrives, the more filling food on Anakin’s belly keeps him from staying awake, missing most of what he assumes was a ‘super pleasant’ conversation about his upcoming operation. He trusts that Ferus will ask all the right questions and can later get him up to speed.
Anakin sleeps off and on for the remainder of the day; Ferus is there when he wakes every time except for one. And Ferus is there the following morning to assist in getting him into the bacta tube for a preop soak. Zan Arbor tells him this will become part of his daily routine, along with her healing salve. He likes her optimism in speaking of the future, because Anakin is nervous he won’t have one.
Ferus shares his nerves. Vaklin has arrived, ready to operate – which Ferus is told will take hours. He doesn’t know what he’ll do with himself in the interim; he’d been with Anakin nonstop for nearly a full rotation now – a task not so difficult as he’d been anticipating.
What had been difficult, was making contact with Obi-Wan. It had been gnawing at Ferus the way they’d left things, especially with how often Anakin brings him up. Ferus and Obi-Wan had previously agreed to keep calls at a minimum, in order to avoid being monitored, and Ferus had already predetermined he wouldn’t make contact until after Anakin’s surgery. So, Ferus decides to send a message. . . which he retypes over and over again before settling on: I’m sorry. My anger was misdirected. I promise I’ll call soon.
And where was that anger supposed to be directed? At Anakin??
Since Ferus doesn’t know the answer. . . it lingers.
Anakin has been prepped, and the AZ droid is about to administer the drug that will put him under for the duration of the surgery. His breaths are panicked. His eyes are large and focused on Ferus’ face.
Ferus pulls the mask away one final time for what he hopes won’t be their final conversation.
“Ferus,” Anakin struggles.
Ferus hums kindly in response.
“If I don’t make it—”
“Don’t talk like that,” Ferus impedes.
“No, listen. Please.”
Ferus’ softens, and stays silent to hear what Anakin has to say.
“If I don’t make it, please tell Obi-Wan I love him. Please tell him I’m so sorry for everything – for not being better. For messing up so much. For being a disappointment.”
As Anakin’s lip quivers, as it has so many times in the last couple of days, Ferus is learning he is powerless against that pout. He doesn’t want Anakin in any sort of pain – not physical – not emotional – not even after ‘Anakin’ had caused him an unspeakable form of pain.
“I’m sure Obi-Wan doesn’t think any of those things,” Ferus defends, but second guesses himself when considering that the Master surely would’ve been disappointed that his Padawan had turned Sith. But Anakin doesn’t have any knowledge of this, and based on what Ferus knows about the past relationship between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, he genuinely believes Anakin’s self-analysis from Obi-Wan’s perspective to be inaccurate.
Ferus recalls how Obi-Wan had put him in his place when he’d tried to confide in him about Anakin – about the dangers of his almighty abilities, and almighty behavior. Through the eyes of his Master, Anakin could do no wrong. . . And Ferus realizes this would’ve made Anakin’s fall all the more devastating for him. . . And on that last call, Ferus had thrown it in his face what Anakin had become. Ferus is glad for the message he’s sent, but is now even more eager to speak his apology aloud.
Anakin is crying heavily as Ferus continuously wipes his face. “I’ll tell him, okay. If something should happen to you, I’ll tell Obi-Wan how much you love him, but Anakin, you’re going to be fine.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. You’ll be okay. You’ll go to sleep now, and I’ll see you real soon.”
When the droid hovers at the ready, both Anakin and Ferus know their time is up.
Ferus stays close. “Everything will be fine,” he reiterates as Anakin’s sobs cease and his eyes grow heavy.
“Please tell him,” Anakin reminds.
“I will. I promise.”
“I love him. . .” Anakin’s voice trails off. “Tell him, Fess. . . love. . . you.”
And Anakin is lost to a peaceful slumber, and he’s called him that odd name again: Fess. Ferus can’t resist stroking his scarred cheek gently. “You’ll be all right,” he utters quietly. He then straightens, and tries to hide the tear in the corner of his eye.
“Shouldn’t take more than four to five hours,” Jenna informs confidently.
“Okay,” Ferus replies unsteadily. You’ll. . . ?”
“I’ll let you know as soon as we’re done.”
Ferus nods. “Bye, Anakin,” he whispers to himself as he turns away.
Ferus curls up in the bunk of the pilot’s suite. His eyes won’t stop watering. He profusely rubs them and keeps swallowing in an attempt to clear his burning sinuses. He tells himself he’s being silly. He’s spent about two rotations with Anakin after not having been in his life for more than seven years. Of course, he wants Anakin to be okay, but if he’s not, it wouldn’t be some great personal loss like the one he’s currently facing. Why is he so upset?
For the first hour, Ferus tosses and turns in the bed as conflicted thoughts likewise toss and turn in his mind. He really wants to holocall Obi-Wan to have someone to share in his worry. . . but on the contrary, he doesn’t want Obi-Wan to worry. . . So, instead. . .
“Hello, stranger,” Dona Telamark answers in a light and friendly tone.
Ferus is trying to determine what to say. It is not the day and age for casual chats via comm call, but he needs someone, needs someone who feels like family.
“Hello??”
“I’m here,” Ferus answers weakly.
“Are you okay?”
“No.” Ferus’ voice is shaky.
“Oh, Fairy, what’s wrong?” Dona asks in alarm.
“My f-friend,” Ferus chokes out. “He’s hurt.”
“Where are you? Do you need me to come? I’m coming,” Dona decides. “I’ll bring Amie.”
“No. No,” Ferus protests. “We have a doctor.”
“You’re worried,” Dona confirms.
Ferus blows out a breath and scrubs his hand over his face.
“Tell me where you are. I’m going to come for a visit. If you have a sick friend, he’ll need my soup.”
Warmth floods Ferus and he smiles. “That actually sounds amazing. He’d like that.” And in the off chance that Anakin won’t need the soup, Ferus would sure like to have someone here with him other than the doctors.
He sends Dona a coded transmission with his coordinates and warns her to dress warm. He feels better that support is coming, but it can’t come soon enough. . . Anakin can’t wake soon enough.
Ferus decides to return to Jenna’s transport and wait there. He hunkers down on the floor, in a hallway corner just outside of the medical area. He balls up his outerwear for use as a headrest, and leans into the angle of the wall. It is strange to be on a ship of this size with no activity other than what is going on in Anakin’s room.
Ferus yawns and checks the time: at least another three hours to go. Head still resting on his makeshift pillow, he pulls his holopad up to his face and contemplates playing some music. After endlessly and indecisively scanning genres, he rules it out.
He then considers reading, but has never found much enjoyment in it. He places the holopad down, and frets over what else he can do to keep his mind busy. He’d once been in a situation similar to this when Roan’s father had undergone a procedure on his kidneys.
He remembers the time had passed quickly, because he and Roan had gotten invested in a holofilm that had been playing in the waiting area. It was an awful film. It had started off well enough – wonderful, really, but the ending was tragic.
Ferus thinks about that film, imagines a different, and more happy ending for the characters. He imagines more advantageous dialogue that might have changed their fates, then closes his eyes as synchronized fictitious scenes flash. . . and within minutes, Ferus is dreaming. . . of his own happy setting. . .
The weather is comfortably cool. Ferus feels a breeze zip through, tousling his hair and ruffling his clothes. It rustles the leaves on lush tree branches, and makes the tall grass he lies upon tickle his cheeks. He opens his eyes and sees blue skies from the view from flat on his back. He recognizes the terrain of home – of Bellassa, when it was peaceful and free. He sighs in contentment.
Ferus turns his head to each side; no one appears to be around. He sits up. “Roan?” he calls with a grin. He’s here; he has to be. If he’s not here now, Ferus knows he's coming.
He gets better situated in his upright position, drawing in his knees and resting his arms upon them. In bending forward, a lengthy lock of hair falls over his shoulder.
“What the?” Ferus chuckles and reaches for the Padawan braid that he’d severed long ago. He looks down at his clothing, but he isn’t dressed like a Jedi. He’s in a thick, plush, oversized jumper. It’s a deep, dark red with gray trim at the wrists and bottom hem. It’s like nothing he’s ever owned. It’s sinfully soft and unbelievably cozy.
“Hey.” The greeting comes from right beside him.
Ferus whips around. “Anakin??” He hadn’t been there before, but he was here now, perched right next to him in this whimsical meadow, sitting in the same relaxed manner, his Padawan braid also dangling in front of his chest.
Anakin is dressed in traditional Jedi garb – in the lighter colors he wore in their Padawan years together. Anakin looks happier than Ferus had ever seen him in those days. Though he’s hunched over, there is a lightness to his shoulders. He looks carefree. . . and adorable. He looks unscathed. There are no scars on his rosy cheeks, and he has two flesh hands clasped around his bended knees.
“So, what you doing?” Anakin queries.
“Uh. . . nothing,” Ferus lets out a low laugh.
Anakin giggles. “Just waiting?” he offers.
“Yeah, I am.” Ferus looks at Anakin curiously.
“Is this where you live?” Anakin marvels.
“Yes. . . Well, it’s where I used to live.”
“It’s beautiful,” Anakin comments. “But it’s a little cold for my liking.” He does a dramatic and playful shiver and Ferus smiles wide.
“The air is changing,” Ferus informs. “It’s almost fall.” He removes the blanket-like pullover and hands it to Anakin. “Here. Wear this.”
“But you’ll be cold.”
“No, I’ll be okay. You need it more than I do. I’m used to this climate.”
Anakin grins. “Thanks!” He slips the garment over his head and lets out a satisfied breath as he wraps his arms around himself. “This feels nice.”
“It looks nice, too.” Ferus can now see there are additional gray accents on the neck and shoulders of the jumper, and he can’t help but notice how well the maroon color of it complements the pink hue of Anakin’s lips.
“This is going to be good, Fess. I feel better already.”
Ferus stares blankly, waiting for further explanation.
“I can really breathe out here, you know?” Anakin takes in a large quantity of air through his nostrils.
“That’s. . . That’s good, Anakin. I’m glad,” Ferus responds still a bit baffled.
“I feel. . . safe.” Anakin makes a show of sinking further into the pullover and laughs.
Ferus laughs, too. Anakin scoots closer and puts his head on his shoulder. Ferus goes stiff at first, but then extends an arm around him. He looks at him just as Anakin arcs his neck back. Their eyes meet, and Anakin giggles again.
Ferus smiles in response to the contagion, as Anakin leans in. . . to share in. . . a gentle. . . sweet. . . kiss. . .
“Ferus??”
And that would be the voice of his husband.
~
“Ferus. . .” Jenna is lightly shaking Ferus to wake him.
“Roan?” Ferus murmurs drowsily before realizing where he is: on the floor of Jenna’s ship. . . waiting for, “Anakin,” Ferus breathes out. “Is he. . . ? How is he?” Ferus stumbles, but rises.
“He did fine,” Jenna announces proudly.
Relief washes over Ferus like a tidal wave; he’s thankful for the support of the wall behind him.
“The new lungs are in, and all the old respirator ports have been removed. We patched him up the best we could – better than expected, in fact, but it’ll take time for the skin grafts to fuse. We can get him in bacta regularly now, continue with the swab twice a day, and fit him for the prosthetics as soon as he’s up for it.”
“Can I see him?”
“He won’t be up for a while, but you can reclaim your place in the room.” Jenna begins walking, prompting Ferus to follow. “Dr. Vaklin will stay until he wakes, but we don’t anticipate any complications. We’re both. . .” Jenna pauses her steps and turns to face Ferus. “You weren’t wrong. . . about that feeling in helping someone. . . It’s. . . Well, perhaps I’ve substituted one form of greed for another,” she smirks and turns on her heel, proceeding through the doors to the ward.
Ferus laughs. “I don’t think that would classify as greed, then?”
Jenna shushes him. “I have a reputation to uphold,” she sasses teasingly.
“I won’t tell if you won’t. . . but truly, thank you. We’re so grateful, for everything.”
Ferus doesn’t expect a ‘you’re welcome,’ but he also hadn’t expected ‘we’ to so freely roll off his tongue in regards to Anakin and him.
Between this, and the dream, he is slightly unsettled as he ‘reclaims his place.’
His place with Anakin.
Notes:
AND LET THE MUTUAL PINING BEGIN 🔥🔥🔥
(hehe Ferus falls asleep to headcanons like the rest of us 😆) You, too, can write fic, Ferus! This is just how I started out 🤣 Wonder if he was thinking about Revenge of the Sith, too lol.
THANK YOU FOR READING! I hope you enjoyed this chapter ❤️
Chapter Text
Jenna has given Ferus the rundown on what recovery will look like. In a classic, ‘it has to get worse, before it can get better’ scenario, Anakin can expect to experience additional physical discomfort. It is a transitory hurdle that can be managed with pain medication. In addition, time in the bacta bath will be extended for the next couple of rotations. The healing salve will continue to be applied in the morning and evening, with supplemental applications to the skin grafts and surgical incision; and with those fresh wounds, he’ll need to be mindful in how he exerts himself. . . and the frequent coughing that comes with the regulation of the new lungs will pose a greater threat.
The most exciting, and possibly the most challenging piece of recovery, will be receiving and relearning new limbs. Jenna believes prosthetic adherence could begin as early as tomorrow, patient progress pending. Ferus is eager for this step; it will be good for Anakin to be able to do a bit more to take care of himself. . . Wiping his own nose and tears, for instance. . . and feeding himself.
The prior rotation’s victory over solid foods had been diminished at witnessing the AZ droid having to feed Anakin like one of the youngest in the crèche. Ferus had stepped out, Anakin’s shame bleeding into the Force. Anakin has been surprisingly accepting with having to rely on others for help, but Ferus knows it is not easy for him.
The doctors break for lunch, and Ferus stays with Anakin, trying not to reflect on the dream he’d just had about him, or the intense emotional reaction he’s had to this whole ordeal. He just wants to focus on getting Anakin well. He’s notated Jenna’s instructions in his holopad, and he’s determined for this recovery to go as smoothly as it possibly can.
Anakin begins to stir within the hour. Ferus stands bedside.
“Master,” Anakin first utters.
Ferus doesn’t feel as tense at the mention of Obi-Wan in knowing he can now contact him soon. . . He just hopes Obi-Wan will want Anakin as badly as Anakin seems to want him. Before Ferus can correct, he feels Anakin reach for him in the Force; he’s gentle this time, less invasive than he’s been before.
“Ferus,” Anakin croaks with eyes still closed.
“Yes. I’m here. I’m right here.”
“Ferus,” Anakin calls again. Now there is a pout on his face and tears welling up behind his eyes as he recollects what he’s been through.
“You’re okay,” Ferus informs. “You’re all right.”
Anakin grunts and tries to rise.
“No,” Ferus warns. He places hands on Anakin’s shoulders. “No. Not yet, okay? The doctors say you need to stay flat for now.” His thumbs subtly stroke Anakin’s upper arms on reflex while he holds him in place.
Anakin sniffles, still with a frown.
“The worst is over,” Ferus promises. “You’ll be on your feet in no time now.” Anakin doesn’t seem appeased; he is still weepy and looking stressed, so Ferus moves in with his tissues, as he has many times as of late. “Are you in a lot of pain?” he asks worriedly.
“I don’t know,” Anakin cries. He doesn’t know what he feels other than confused and overwhelmed. . . and he feels upset that Ferus’ hands are no longer on him. More than ever, he wishes Obi-Wan were here, so that he might comfortingly touch his shoulder, the way he’s done in the past as a show of affection or praise. He wants Ferus to touch him again. And would it be too much to ask for a hug? Anakin wants a hug. . . He snivels once more.
“I can get you more pain medicine if you need it,” Ferus offers softly as he wipes Anakin’s nose. “If you start to feel like you’re hurting, you just let me know, okay?”
“I don’t want the medicine,” Anakin fusses. “It’ll make me sleep.”
“Well, you need your rest.”
“Don’t want to; want to go home,” Anakin whines.
Ferus’ heart wrenches. He understands that longing for home when feeling out of sorts. “We can’t do that,” he reminds carefully. “Do you remember that we can’t do that?”
That’s right. Anakin does remember something about that, but he also remembers that what he wants isn’t at the Temple anyway. . . “Can we please get Obi-Wan now? Please?”
“Soon. I promise.” Ferus sees Anakin’s strained face revert.
“Promise?” Anakin confirms hopefully.
And Ferus realizes it was a mistake to use that word, but fortunately, Anakin is pretty loopy, and likely won’t remember this conversation. “We just need to get you feeling better first,” he relays as a way to justify the time it could take to produce the Jedi Master.
Anakin lets out a dramatic groan. “That’ll take forever,” he complains.
“Not true. Don't you already feel better to be able to breathe without so much trouble?”
Anakin lets out a rattling breath. “Yeah,” he says as if he’s just realized, a large smile suddenly overtaking his face.
Ferus chuckles, knowing that the process of waking from anesthesia can involve a roller coaster of emotions – and not just for the patient. He sees Anakin try to move upright again. “Hey, hey, none of that. I told you; you need to stay down right now.”
Anakin nearly purrs at Ferus’ touch, his body relaxed in compliance. “I just want to see my new lungs,” he explains lethargically.
“Well, you can’t see them; they’re inside your chest. Did you mean you want to see your new scar?”
And Anakin has enough of those. “No.” His tears return tenfold.
Ferus grits his teeth. “It’s okay – you don’t have to see. It’s covered up right now anyway. We won’t look until you’re ready.”
“I wanna see you,” Anakin determines crossly and abruptly.
“I’m right here.”
“Where?” Anakin tries to lift up again.
“Keep still.” Ferus urgently moves his face right over Anakin’s. “Right here. Look at me. I’m right here.”
Anakin calms. “Hi,” he tells Ferus pitifully as their eyes meet.
Ferus involuntarily grins. “Hi.”
Anakin wants to reach for him; seeing him is not enough. He needs his touch. He can’t quite express how lonely he feels in this broken body. Zan Arbor and the droid do what is necessary – feed him, put his ointment on, and Ferus wipes his face and helps him into the bacta tube, but no one touches him because they want to. . . So, he’ll settle for have to. “My nose itches,” Anakin decides. . . and it’s mostly true – his irritated skin could always be scratched.
“Where?” Ferus asks considerably. “Here?” He lightly rubs the tip of Anakin’s nose.
“No, the side.”
“Left side? Right side?”
“Yeah,” Anakin acknowledges languidly.
“Both sides,” Ferus assumes amused as he begins with the right, then moves to the left. “Better?”
“Mhmm,” Anakin drifts, just as a new idea comes to him, “Head, too.” He isn’t able to conceal his mischievous smile.
Ferus chortles. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Right there.”
Ferus knows that in Anakin’s tired mind, he is successfully pointing, but he has no clue where ‘there’ is; though, he’s figured out there is no itch to scratch anyhow. But he’ll humor Anakin, give him the comfort he seeks. He knows he’d probably want the same if the situation were reversed.
Ferus warily rests his palm to the right side of Anakin’s scarred scalp. He flexes his fingers for a slight massage and hears Anakin hum contentedly as he closes his eyes.
“Ferus?” Anakin queries a moment later.
“Hmm?”
“I don’t have any hair, do I?”
“No, you don’t,” Ferus replies in simple acceptance.
“Could tell; feels weird.” Anakin’s speech is getting increasingly lazy.
“Want me to stop?”
“No,” Anakin murmurs. “No, please. . . don’t.”
Ferus continues strumming along the pale, blistered flesh. He’s ready to take his hand back, but it shouldn’t be long; he can see Anakin is barely clinging to consciousness.
“Where’d you go?” Anakin questions as he fights to keep awake.
“I haven’t gone anywhere.”
“No, when they. . . when I. . . got cut. . . open.”
“For your surgery?”
“Mhmm.”
“I was right out in the hall.”
“You didn’t leave me,” Anakin affirms satisfied.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Don’t leave, okay?”
“I won’t.”
“Can I have jerky today?”
Ferus cackles in spite of himself. “Maybe.”
“Don’t laugh,” Anakin scowls.
“I’m not – not at you. It’s just, you’re funny; you made me laugh.”
“I’m funny,” Anakin grins, eyes still closed.
Ferus shakes his head with a small snort. “You can be.”
“I like your laugh,” Anakin compliments. “It’s really. . . cute. You’re really cute.”
“Go to sleep, all right?” Ferus had been anxious for him to wake, but now he’s ready for a break from this delirious and honest Anakin.
“I don’t want to.”
“Well, the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you can have that jerky.”
“I’m asleep,” Anakin alerts in silly surrender. His eyes had never opened, but now his body goes very still.
Ferus is tickled. “Yep. You are.” His hand slides down, gives Anakin’s cheek a pat, then he takes his seat a few feet away.
And with the ghost feeling of Ferus’ touch, Anakin truly does slip into slumber.
*
An entire rotation has passed, and Anakin is doing beautifully. He’s back to his more coherent self, and has not asked Ferus for any head scritches, or given him any unsolicited compliments – much to Ferus’ relief.
Jenna has performed another small procedure – fitting Anakin’s four limbs with the hardware that will house the prosthetics soon to be attached. Anakin was able to stay awake this time; numbing injections filling in any gaps in the pain medication.
Ferus is in his usual seat, and Anakin is perched on the edge of his bed, impatiently waiting for Jenna to come in with his new arms and legs.
Anakin has a plan to pop them on and immediately stand; there’s no need to wait. He’ll get the prosthetics on, and this stupid catheter out, and he’ll start to function like a normal human again. . . Well, new normal, anyway. None of this is ideal, but Anakin supposes it could be worse.
Truthfully, getting a break from his Jedi responsibilities and Chosen One duty feels sort of. . . nice. Closing himself off in the Force feels nice. Not having hardly any other sentients around to feel the burdens of their troubles is nice. Having Ferus with him is nice. If Obi-Wan were here, Anakin believes things would feel near perfect, despite his physical ailments, of course.
But Ferus has just revealed he has plans to bring someone else here: a stranger; not even someone Anakin had once known and forgotten about. . . and he isn’t so sure about it.
“And who is she??” Anakin asks again of Dona Telamark, who is apparently on her way.
“She was a client of mine, and we have since looked out for each other. She’s nursed me back to health in the past – with her amazing soup, and she wants to make you some. She wants to help.”
“Client?” Anakin questions.
“Yeah. . .” Ferus answers uncomfortably.
“And this is all part of that ‘long story’ you can’t tell me yet.” Anakin and Ferus lock eyes. There are moments when Anakin feels lost and frustrated, and desperate for answers. But there are other times when he wants to hold on to this ignorant bliss. Anakin knows that whatever has happened, whatever the reason he and Ferus and Obi-Wan aren’t safe, it’s bad, and he doesn’t really want to hear the foreboding tale, but knows he needs to. “I need to know what’s happening, Ferus,” Anakin tells him crucially.
Jenna enters, silencing them both. “Okay. Are you ready to walk again?” she proudly proposes.
“I’m ready to be able to scratch my own itches,” Anakin responds matter-of-factly.
Ferus flinches, wondering if Anakin actually does remember their more tender moment post operation.
“Arms first, then.” Jenna brings over a custom, shiny metal assembly for Anakin to examine. “Now, this isn’t like all the other garbage they have out there on the market. It will take longer to adjust, but that’s what makes it superior; there are thousands of sensors that can be calibrated so that they may function like the nerves of a human limb. You’ll make tweaks, likely several times a day as you move and touch, and eventually, it will be as close to the real thing as it can get.”
“It certainly doesn’t look like the real thing,” Anakin grumbles.
“Is that the thanks I get?” Jenna snaps back in offense.
“No, I’m sorry, this is. . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m just—”
“Perhaps you’d prefer what you had before.”
“No, ma’am. Definitely not,” Anakin grovels. He doesn’t remember much from when he’d first awoken, but he remembers how badly those old prosthetics hurt.
“All right, then,” Jenna concludes firmly.
Anakin cowers, but can’t help but ask, “W-what did I have before? Where did those come from? Do you really not know??” These questions are directed at Ferus, because he was the one who’d told Anakin he didn’t know anything about his injuries. Was that true, or was that something else he’d chosen to omit?
“We really don’t know.” Ferus' tone is sympathetic. “All we know is they seemed to hurt you more than help you. That’s why Jenna removed them.”
Guilt-faced, Anakin looks at Zan Arbor. “Thank you,” he mutters apologetically.
Jenna doesn’t accept the apology, but sighs in surrender. “Shall we?” Her patient lifts his upper right arm, and Jenna effortlessly locks the mechanism in place.
“That’s it?” Anakin is awestruck.
“That’s it. It’s affixed.”
“It doesn’t hurt at all!” Anakin tries to raise the full length of the arm, but almost whacks himself in the face, as it soars much higher than anticipated. “Shit!”
Ferus’ stomach takes a dive as he grabs the arm on reflex and pulls it down to Anakin’s lap.
“Slowly,” Jenna directs. She notes Ferus’ hands still on Anakin. “Can you feel that?” she inquires.
Anakin looks down at Ferus’ white-knuckled fingers that are wrapped around his wrist. “Sort of. I can tell he's gripping much tighter than it feels, though,” Anakin chuckles.
Ferus suppresses a smile, then folds his arms to his own chest.
“We’ll try again. . . Slowly this time,” Jenna reminds.
"I thought that was slowly,” Anakin mumbles.
“Watch.” Jenna takes the arm. “See this sensor here? This was where you lifted from, correct?”
“I guess. . .”
“Just close your eyes and don’t try to raise it, but imagine the way in which you did.” Jenna feels around near the very top portion of the mechno arm. “Would you say the force of motion came from this area?”
“Umm. . . Yeah, I think so.”
“So, we’d just tone this sensor down.” Jenna makes the adjustment and prompts Anakin to try again.
Anakin lifts the arm more carefully. “Oh,” he marvels. “Neat!”
Ferus grins. “So, it’ll just be a lot of trial and error,” he indicates.
“That is correct,” Jenna asserts.
“Should we wait on the legs while he’s getting adjusted to the arms, then?” Ferus wonders.
Anakin frowns.
“The last thing we need is you doing an unplanned backflip while you’re recovering from surgery,” Ferus scolds. “I think we should take it one arm at a time – do the initial, more major adjustments, and then see where we are.” He hears Anakin blow out a breath; he knows it’s not what he wants to hear. “It’s not as if you’re in condition to start jogging or sparring right now anyway. Be patient.”
Anakin hears his Master in Ferus’ words. “That’s what Obi-Wan would say. . .”
Ferus’ lips curl. “Yes. It is.”
“Okay, let’s play around with this one first. At least I can scratch my own nose now. . . but there’s something else I want to do.”
“What?” Ferus asks curiously.
“Well, I was hoping to walk myself to the refresher, but I guess that will have to wait.”
Ferus nods, still looking at Anakin in question.
“But I. . . I’d like to. . . I can’t walk to the mirror, but is there one that you could bring to me?”
“A mirror?”
“I. . . I want to see. . . myself. I want to see what I look like.”
Ferus stiffens. “Umm. . .”
“There’s a handheld in my office,” Jenna shares. “You’re welcome to it.”
Ferus glares at her.
“I’ll let the two of you sort that out.” Jenna raises her hands and back away. “When you’re ready to experiment with the left arm, feel free, but wait for me before you try the legs.”
Anakin lets Zan Arbor exit, then turns to Ferus. “The way you look at me. . . I know I must be hideous. I just want to see what I’m dealing with. I know my face looks much like the rest of my body; I can tell by the way it feels. And now that I can actually touch it. . .” Anakin cautiously lifts the new hand.
“Well, don’t touch it yet – we haven’t even worked on one sensor on the hand.” Ferus pulls it away. “If– if you want to see, I’ll show you.”
“I want to see.”
“Now, you have to remember, we are still testing the capacity of these new lungs. You can’t get worked up.”
“Well, I don’t know what I’m about to see, so I can’t make any promises.”
“You just have to remember that you’re a work in progress. You’re already looking better after a handful of bacta soaks and just a few days with Jenna’s ointment.”
“The special sauce,” Anakin jokes.
Ferus snickers. “Yes. The special sauce.”
“Thanks, Ferus.”
“The sauce is not my recipe.” Ferus raises a brow.
Anakin giggles. “No,” he lets out a light cough. “Thanks for being here – for looking out for me. Thank you for being so kind, and for making this feel as normal as possible.”
“It’s nothing.” Ferus shrugs and looks away.
“It’s everything.” Anakin takes a moment to fondly observe the bashful look on Ferus’ face. “Come on,” he presses. “Show me my ugly mug.”
“It’s not ugly – it’s just. . . wounded. It’ll heal.”
Anakin’s mouth goes in a thin line. “Show me.”
Ferus sighs. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
“I can’t exactly get up and walk away.” Anakin waves the one arm in a mocking gesture and almost hits himself in the face once again.
Ferus snatches his wrist as before. “That’s what I meant when I said, ‘don’t move.’ Be still. I’ll be back in a second.”
Ferus finds the looking glass easily enough – a decent sized, lighted makeup mirror. When he returns to Anakin, he notices his expectant posture has turned anxious. Ferus is anxious, too. “Got it.” He points to the mirror awkwardly.
“Will you hold it up for me? I’d like to try to do it myself, but it’s seven years bad luck if it breaks when my virgin hand inevitably drops it. . . and I’ve already lost seven years of my life.”
Ferus doesn’t directly reply; it’s another joke, but the reality of the statement is grim, in more ways than one. Ferus positions the mirror in front of Anakin, and holds his breath.
Anakin looks at his reflection.
“Oh,” Anakin comments dryly, tears threatening to choke his speech. They streak down his face without warning. “I look fabulous.” His voice is quaking. He wants to laugh it off, but it’s not funny. Hideous had been an understatement.
Ferus’ brows knit, and his lips pucker in a pout. He is unsure if he should pull the mirror away or not; Anakin is still scrutinizing himself.
Anakin examines the left side of his face first – which appears worse than the right. The scar on that cheek is cratered and puffy. It extends all the way to his ear, leaving it oddly fused to his face. On the same side, up above, there is a similar gorge on his cranium. His jaw and neck look to have taken the brunt of the burns; the skin literally looks melted away, heavily textured, and still raw and pink. “We don’t know how long ago this happened?” Anakin gets out hoarsely.
Ferus sets down the mirror as Anakin begins crying incessantly. “We think it’s been about a year, but the wounds. . . they weren’t well taken care of.”
“Who was supposed to be taking care of me?” Anakin bawls. “Where is Obi-Wan? Where has he been all this time?”
Ferus is wordless. His own eyes burn. His instinct is to reach for him, to hold him, to comfort him, but he can’t. . . or won’t. . .
“Where is he?” Anakin reiterates hysterically. “Why would he leave me? He wouldn’t leave me like this,” he sobs. “Tell me what happened, Ferus. Tell me why Obi-Wan had to leave me.”
“Anakin, I. . .” Ferus trails off at a whisper. “I don’t know if this is the best time to discuss this.”
“You always find a reason to wait. You always say you’ll tell me soon, but I want to know now,” Anakin tearfully pleads.
“Your surgery was just yesterday morning; you’re in a fragile state – especially now, after. . . that. . .” Ferus swallows hard. “You’re already so worked up.” He grabs a tissue and dabs below Anakin’s eyes.
“Just tell me.” Anakin works to compose himself. “I can handle it. I appreciate you trying to protect me, but I don’t want you to do it anymore. Just tell me why we can’t go home.”
“Why don’t we work on a few more of those sensors? Maybe we can even test the legs sometime tonight.”
“Tell me.”
Anakin is turning down an opportunity to walk sooner. . . “Okay,” Ferus agrees hushed.
Anakin’s eyes are so sad, so worried. And Ferus hates it. And the last thing he wants is to cause further devastation. He isn’t sure how to begin. “You have to do your very best to stay calm, all right? Listen, before you react. And just try to remember that we’re going to be okay.” Ferus hadn’t meant for the ‘we’ to slip out again, but it’s important that Anakin doesn’t feel alone right now, and they’re in this together; whatever happened in their divided pasts to get them here, they are presently two ex-Jedi on the run. . . and it’s time he start telling Anakin at least some of the deceptive truth.
So, Ferus leads with the Empire as a reason for why they are currently in hiding. He explains how this Empire rose up from the ashes of the Republic. He reveals that Anakin and the other Jedi had fought to save it, and had fought to save the galaxy, in a war that had begun when he was just nineteen. He tells Anakin that a corrupt leader had been covertly orchestrating both sides. He tells him about the clone soldiers, and how they turned on their Jedi generals, resulting in not only the fall of the Order, but the demise of the Republic.
Ferus of course, leaves out the role Anakin would have had in the final catastrophe. He doesn’t mention the Sith at all. He instead assures once again that Obi-Wan is alive. He tells Anakin that an unknown number of surviving Jedi have gone into hiding, just like them. He doesn’t tell Anakin of those which he knows to be deceased, like their friend, Tru.
With Ferus’ grounding hand upon his shoulder, Anakin has mostly been successful in breathing in and out at a normal pace, but tears have continually flowed throughout the entirety of the narration. He cannot believe the Jedi could be beaten this way. How did they not see it? How did these clones delude them? How could thousands of Jedi not see past the lies of one man?
“I don’t understand this,” Anakin blubbers.
“I know it seems impossible.” From the perspective of a Padawan, Jedi Knights, like their Masters, were supposed to be invincible. Ferus remembers foolishly thinking this in his youth, and understands how inconceivable this must be to Anakin.
“It is,” Anakin insists. “How could some puny politician have done this? W-who??” Anakin now wonders. “Who was the Chancellor during that time?”
And there are the two questions that would reveal Palpatine’s identity. . . as the Chancellor. . . and as a Sith. Which answer would be more troubling for Anakin to learn first? Ferus makes the choice, “Well, what we didn’t know, and what I only recently found out, was that the Chancellor was actually. . . a Sith.”
“What?!” Anakin shrieks.
“Okay, take a breath,” Ferus coaches soothingly, hand still on Anakin’s shoulder, and now one upon his chest.
Anakin does, but he can’t settle his line of questioning. “An actual Sith? Like the one Obi-Wan fought on Naboo?”
“Yes. It was actually Obi-Wan who told me about the Sith.” Ferus thinks the mention of Obi-Wan will help placate Anakin – a piece of the story that proves him to be alive and well. It seems to help.
“Obi-Wan knew,” Anakin repeats, just for the sake of saying his Master’s name.
“Yes, Obi-Wan discovered the truth, but like the rest of us, he discovered it too late.”
“That’s why he’s not here. He’s hiding from the Sith,” Anakin babbles. “He has to, because he knows the truth.”
“Right.”
“Who? Who is the Sith? Who is the Emperor? The last I remember, Chancellor Palpatine was the leader of the Republic – who took his place??”
The moment Ferus has been dreading. . . “No one took his place, Anakin.”
Anakin’s eyes widen as he gawks at Ferus in disbelief. “What?”
“It was Palpatine. Palpatine is the Emperor. Palpatine is the Sith.”
Anakin draws in a breath that threatens to rupture the new equipment inside. “No!” he shouts. “No, he couldn’t have! All this time! How?!”
“Anakin, please,” Ferus begs, trying not to panic himself as Anakin gasps and gurgles. “You’ve got to breathe. Breathe for me. Take a breath.”
Anakin heaves and starts to shake. “It was him! All this time. . . It was him! He did this to me!!” he hollers short of breath.
It’s a very real possibility, and it’s a very upsetting possibility. The man had been someone Anakin had looked up to. He had been someone all of them had trusted. Ferus takes Anakin’s face between his palms and shushes him. “Look at me,” Ferus orders desperately. He hears Anakin huffing, but gaining better control. “I know this is upsetting, but you’re going to hurt yourself,” he warns. “You’ve got to breathe, all right? Please breathe for me.” Ferus’ hands still cup his face as Anakin releases a breath and hiccups softer cries.
“He did this to me,” Anakin wails.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Ferus reasons. He now squeezes Anakin’s neck and shoulders. Anakin relentlessly sobs as Ferus’ arm extends to rub his back. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and realizes it’s the first time he’s said this to Anakin, always avoiding the phrase because he’s felt Anakin owed him an apology – VADER owed him everything. Everything he took from him.
“We really can’t go home,” Anakin whimpers.
And with his hand already on his back, it is easy to pull the weeping man into an embrace, and Ferus does. “We’re going to be okay. It’s okay.” Anakin’s head slumps on his shoulder as Ferus wraps both arms around him. “No more hard talks today.”
Anakin won’t argue that. He is already mourning his blissful ignorance. . . and there are more horrors to be told. But he has Ferus. . . someone who will support him. . . and touch him, and not because he has to, but because he cares enough to. And though it doesn’t quite feel the same, Anakin is pleased to be able to touch Ferus in return; his newly attached arm fervently grips his strong back.
Ferus doesn’t want to offend Anakin by telling him that he is returning his hug a little too tightly. He’s certain he will have fingertip-shaped bruises, but he holds Anakin anyway; he comforts him in the best way he can. . . in the way in which he’d want someone to comfort him if he ever allowed himself to break down this way. But he’ll never allow it, because who would be there for Anakin if he let himself sink into despair? So, Ferus smothers his grief, and he comforts the man responsible for taking his comfort away from him.
Notes:
Anakin Skywalker needs a hug
Anakin Skywalker gets a hug ❤️
Chapter 10
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The mood is mixed for the remainder of the day. After feeling responsible for traumatizing him, Ferus refuses to leave Anakin’s side, even once he’s free to take a break when Anakin has finally cried himself to sleep. It had been a struggle for Ferus to get him to settle down after his mirror viewing and the Clone Wars naptime horror story, but Anakin had willingly gotten under the covers when Ferus had moved his designated seat right beside the bed. . . keeping a warm hand resting on Anakin’s shoulder until he drifted off.
Anakin is somber when he wakes from his midday nap, so Ferus reluctantly suggests attaching the left prosthetic in hopes that it will lift his spirits. The two work together on adjusting the sensors on each arm, sharing smiles with the little victories of previously unexplored motions, but the underlying heaviness persists. There are questions Anakin wants to ask that he is afraid to know the answers to, and Ferus is in a constant state of anxiousness over what those questions might be and the best way for him to respond to them.
By nightfall, Anakin has a pretty good grasp on the coordination of his two new limbs, but when he solicits for the legs, Ferus objects, citing too many modifications for one rotation. He knows Anakin is tired from keeping awake to work with the sensors on his arms; he doesn’t want him to hurt himself in attempting to walk after such a trying day.
But Jenna feels Anakin is ready. She has programmed her droid to conduct his physical therapy. Ferus is outnumbered, but still, he proposes the compromise: attaching the legs for the night, but not standing on them until morning.
Anakin accepts the bargain, and after his nighttime bacta bath and ointment application, he lies in bed as a whole man. He flexes his new ankles and bends his bionic knees, getting accustomed to the feeling of the limbs as Ferus makes the sensor adjustments – preventing Anakin from having to bend in a way that would upset his incision or skin grafts.
In the morning, Ferus anticipates Anakin will wake and want to leap from bed and straight onto his mechno feet, but Anakin does not yet want to stand; he doesn’t even want to eat. Instead, he asks the questions he can no longer withhold.
“Ferus, where did you find me?” The words come out hesitant and meek.
Ferus studies Anakin’s face, inquisitive and worried. “I found you at the medical facility on Coruscant,” he replies quietly, head down, in fear of where this conversation will lead.
“How did you know I was there?”
And Ferus translates the meaning. . . Anakin assumes he’d been looking for him. It is technically true; he'd been looking for Vader – for information to take him down. . . Ferus is silent for too long.
“It was Obi-Wan, wasn’t it?”
Ferus’ eyes narrow and his head pops up.
“I figured it out,” Anakin reveals. “You said you’d talked to Obi-Wan, and you said he’s in hiding, because he knew about the Sith. But Obi-Wan also knew I was in danger – of course he would know – we always know; we can feel each other, even across space and planets. He sent you to find me, didn’t he? He sensed something was wrong and knew where I’d be. So, when, Ferus? When can we let him know your mission was a success? When will we hear from him?”
Ferus’ stomach is in knots. Anakin is so sure of this theory he’s concocted, and Ferus can’t bear to break his heart again. He can’t bear to have him cry again when he tells him that his Master hadn’t been trying to find him. “Anakin. . .” Ferus starts as he meets hopeful eyes. He inwardly sighs. He confirms nothing of what Anakin’s just said. And while he doesn’t tell the truth, he doesn’t lie either, “Obi-Wan and I communicate periodically from what we hope is an untraceable comm, but we still have to be careful, and we still have to keep calls at a minimum, and we last spoke. . . recently, so, we need to wait a little bit before reaching out again.”
Anakin's disappointment is evident.
“I know you want to talk to him; I do, too. Hang in there, okay? We’ve got a lot to look forward to today. Are you feeling up to it? Do you still want to try to walk?”
Anakin nods. “Yeah, I do. . . I just. . . I miss him.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Ferus squeezes Anakin’s shoulder.
“Ferus?”
Ferus braces himself for what truth he will have to avoid next.
“Thank you for taking the mission. Thank you for rescuing me.”
And Ferus’ knotted stomach fills with butterflies as Anakin reaches his mechanical hand to take his own. The grip is torturously tight, and when Ferus folds forward towards the pain on reflex, Anakin mistakes the involuntary movement as an effort for an intended embrace. He pulls Ferus close.
Careful to not further bruise Anakin’s fragile ego, Ferus returns the hug, then hears Anakin sniffle. “Let’s take a walk, huh?” He whispers over Anakin’s shoulder as he pats his back. He feels his nod of affirmation, but Anakin doesn’t release him from his hold.
*
After a first round of therapy, Anakin sleeps soundly through the rest of the morning and into lunch. Ferus is alarmed when he awakes with a more severe sounding cough, but Jenna assures this is a normal part of recovery, and is surprised it hadn’t started sooner. So, Ferus then worriedly questions why the coughing had been delayed if Jenna had been expecting it beforehand, but she promises there is no cause for concern. But Ferus feels shredded each time Anakin’s face strains at the pain in his chest it causes.
Shortly thereafter, Ferus receives word that Dona has just arrived on world. He steps out into the cold and searches the dreary skies for her transport, which he knows is even smaller than his own, only equipped in getting to and from destinations, and not for lodging. So, Dona will stay in the pilot’s cabin of his ship; he knows he’ll be back with Anakin for the night anyway.
But a wrench is thrown in his plans when Dona arrives with a second passenger: Trever.
Ferus is overjoyed to see both faithful friends and greets them with bone-crushing hugs.
Trever immediately wants to know all about this new assignment on Toloran that has kept his honorary big brother from returning to base, and when he learns Ferus has found another Jedi, and who that Jedi is, he can’t contain his enthusiasm.
“IT’S ANAKIN SKYWALKER?!” Trever shrieks. “That’s the Jedi you found?!”
Ferus cackles. “Okay, quiet down. He can probably hear you from here, and you’re going to scare him off.”
“Nothing scares the Hero with no Fear!” Trever counters.
Ferus tenses. “Well, before you meet him, you should know. . . he’s lost a large portion of his memories, and he doesn’t remember any of the Clone Wars, so he won’t understand why you know him.”
Dona’s hand covers her mouth. “Oh, the poor dear.” She and Ferus exchange grim expressions.
“I just told him about the war yesterday,” Ferus alerts. “And he took it pretty hard; he knew Palpatine personally from the time he was young, so, try not to bring any of that up, okay?”
Trever nods in understanding.
“And, um. . . He’ll look a lot different from the way you’ve seen him on the HoloNet – he’s badly wounded, and he’s a little self-conscious about it, so do your best not to stare.” Ferus can see his instructions have stressed Trever, his boyish excitement of meeting the famous hero tainted.
“He won’t have war stories to share, but he was still a Jedi,” Ferus tells Trever intently. “And he’s so funny, and sweet—” Ferus catches himself having used such an endearing adjective. “He’ll be happy to talk with you and to get to know you. . . He’s only had me for company,” Ferus probes mischievously.
And Trever takes the bait. “Well, that must be miserable. Poor guy.” He smirks.
Ferus grins. “Let me go check in with him and see if he’s ready for visitors, and if so, I’ll bring you over.”
“Sounds good,” Dona beams. . . because she can see how Ferus beams as well.
Ferus can hear the coughing as he approaches, and wonders if Anakin is up for this encounter after all.
“Are you all right?” Ferus’ steps are urgent as he makes his way over.
Anakin nods in response as he works to clear his throat. “Is she here?” he rasps.
“Yes, but maybe you’ll see them tomorrow. It’ll only aggravate your cough more to try to talk.”
Anakin starts violently shaking his head. . . accompanied by more coughing. “It’ll help flush things out; Jenna said.”
“She did?”
“Yeah,” Anakin says gruffly. “And you said ‘them,’” he chokes out.
Ferus smiles. “Trever is here, too.”
Anakin looks unsure. “Who’s Trever?”
“He’s just a kid – an orphan kid, sadly. He lost his mom during the war, and his father and brother are casualties of the Empire.” Ferus props an additional pillow behind Anakin’s back as he explains.
“That’s so terrible,” Anakin retorts sadly. “How old is he?”
Ferus’ brow wrinkles. “I believe he’s fourteen now. . . Guess I owe him a birthday present.” Ferus flinches when Anakin’s chuckles turn to coughs. His hand hovers over Anakin’s shoulder, then he moves it to fasten the buttons on Anakin’s med tunic, knowing he’ll want to be better covered up in the presence of company.
“How did you meet him?” Anakin inquires.
What a loaded question. He used to sleep in the alley behind my business office. . . the business I started with my husband after I left the Order. . . “He and Dona are both members of the Eleven,” Ferus decides.
“What’s the Eleven?”
“They are a resistance organization that formed at the uprising of the Empire. They fight against Imperial forces in hopes to restore the Republic. There were eleven original members,” Ferus says proudly, leaving out that he and his beloved Roan had been the ones to start the group.
“And you are part of the Eleven?”
“I am.” Ferus finishes with the snaps on Anakin’s gown and straightens it on his frame.
“Wow. You’ve been busy,” Anakin remarks. “I wonder if I had my own rebellion group.”
And on that note, Ferus is ready for a change of subject. “Are you sure you’re okay to meet them right now?”
Anakin bobs his head while unsuccessfully withholding a coughing fit.
Ferus frowns. “They won’t stay long.”
“But you’ll still be around, right? Like, if I work on my steps later. . . Will you be here?”
“Sure.” Ferus smooths the folds of the bed linens and secures them over Anakin’s lap.
“Umm. . . Do Dona and Trever know about. . . ?” Anakin waves a hand in front of his own face.
“Yeah, they know,” Ferus smiles kindly. “And they know you’re a Jedi, and Trever is really excited to meet you.”
“I wish I could walk out to them.” Anakin lets out a sigh. “But I’m not really dressed for that.”
“We’ll get you a few things now that you’re on your feet again,” Ferus promises. “We’re going to go to tourist town in a bit to get ingredients for the soup. I’ll see what I can find.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“We shouldn’t be too long, but it’ll take a little while to get down there. Jenna is going to lend us her speeder; all I have is the swoop bike.”
Anakin is silent.
Ferus knows he wants to go, too. “You’ve only been walking for half a day. And it’s way too cold out there for you.”
“I know.”
“Soon enough; you’re already doing so great,” Ferus praises. “One thing at a time. And next on the agenda, is making new friends.”
And Anakin becomes fast friends with Dona and Trever. Both visitors have a way of making him feel as if he isn’t as gruesome as he knows he appears. They look at him, and not at his scarred skin or metal limbs. They talk to him casually, happily. . . as if everything is fine. . . as if everything is normal.
Trever isn’t any less infatuated by Anakin after meeting him, and try as he might to avoid it, he ends up bringing up the war, and the time Anakin led an airstrike over Umbara, and the time he saved Coruscant from the Zillo Beast. But to Ferus’ relief, Anakin is actually delighted to learn a few things about his lost seven years – especially considering many of these war stories involve Obi-Wan.
Ferus carefully monitors the conversation, and when Trever mentions having met Obi-Wan several weeks prior, Ferus makes an announcement that it might be a good time to make the trek to the lower portion of the planet before it gets too late.
Trever volunteers to stay behind with Anakin to keep him company, but Ferus insist his help is needed at the market, and that Anakin needs to rest, and Anakin does; Ferus has seen his eyes growing increasingly heavy over the last half hour.
On the journey to town, Ferus is consumed with thoughts of Anakin. Though he knows he will likely sleep while he is gone, and is well looked after by Jenna and the med droid, he wants to get these errands out of the way and return to the ships as quickly as possible. To make a more efficient use of time, he splits up from Dona and Trever, leaving them to handle the groceries while he checks out a clothing vendor for Anakin.
Ferus feels more at ease to have credits back in his pocket, Dona having brought over his lockbox from the safehouse. The stress over what he’ll do for funding of food and supplies once Jenna departs is alleviated.
Dr. Vaklin had made the inquiry the prior afternoon. . . He’d wanted an update on Anakin’s progress; Jenna was needed for a trip to Alsakan. There was a potential client there who showed interest in stocking the healing ointment in their facility. Jenna would need to facilitate the sales presentation, and it was time for her to continue on with her next endeavor. She would leave the day after tomorrow, along with Dona and Trever.
Anakin cannot hyperspace travel so soon after his transplant, so he and Ferus will make a temporary home in the smaller ship atop Toloran while they wait for clearance to fly. Jenna will leave them with a large supply of the salve. She will also leave them with the portable bacta tube, which will be a challenge to fit on Ferus’ ship, but he will find a way to accommodate it. Ferus is nervous to be Anakin’s sole caregiver, but Jenna has promised she is only a comm call away should any questions come up or any complications arise.
Jenna has already recorded the instructions for Ferus to guide Anakin in physical therapy – the first of which are finding a pair of boots for him to wear during his walking sessions. And Ferus has just spotted a pair that are simple, soft, and brown – free of buckles or straps, lightweight, and suitable for someone having to relearn their movements.
Ferus is pleased that this store seems to have everything he’ll need. He finds socks and underclothes, then selects basic tunic and trouser separates – one set in tan, one in gray, and one in black. The fabric is ideal – breathable and unrestrictive. This will be a great start. . . but just before Ferus moves to pay the clerk, he sees an item that baffles and astounds him.
There on a rack, all on its own, hangs a dark red, plush pullover. . . gray-trimmed cuffs and waist, with matching raglan piping framing a v-stitched collar. Ferus’ mouth hangs open. This sweater is identical to the one in the dream he’d had during Anakin’s operation. In the dream, Ferus had been wearing it and had given it to Anakin. Ferus checks the size – it’ll be a perfect, oversized fit. He grins as he drapes the garment over his arm with the others.
*
When the trio of travelers return to the mountaintop, Dona starts the soup on Ferus’ transport, while Ferus flocks to Anakin.
“You’re back,” Anakin sings when Ferus enters.
Ferus’ smile is large in return. “We’re back," he confirms. "Did you sleep at all?”
Anakin nods as he fights to clear the rumble of congestion.
“Cough not any better?”
“It is, a little.”
“Good, and the soup will help, too. . . I got you a few things. . .” Ferus shuffles the collection of bags in his hands.
“That looks like a lot of things,” Anakin replies suspiciously.
“It’s the essentials. You can’t wear the same thing every day. . . at least, I don’t want you to have to anymore.” Ferus' words come out as bashful as Anakin looks.
“H-how did you pay for this?” Anakin wonders.
“I had some credits saved; Dona brought them over. So, no more ration pack nuna jerky – I got you the good stuff,” Ferus jokes.
Anakin’s chest rattles in response. “You didn’t have to do that – any of it.”
“Well, you needed boots for therapy, and I thought you’d look funny in just the boots and a med gown.”
“I was going to look funny regardless,” Anakin reminds with a little humor behind the statement.
But Ferus detects the insecurity that’s underlying. He raises an eyebrow scoldingly, but doesn’t comment.
“Thanks. . .” Anakin doesn’t feel the word quite conveys the magnitude of the appreciation he feels.
“You’re welcome,” Ferus breathes quietly. Now, he shows Anakin the boots and the ensembles that he can mix and match. He shows him the coordinating undergarments and socks. . . He saves the pullover for last.
“I also found this.” Ferus holds up the sweater. “I had a feeling you might like it. . . It’s a far cry from Jedi attire, but what do you think?” When Anakin’s eyes light up, Ferus’ heart ignites in unison.
“That’s for me??” The surprise in Anakin’s voice causes his throat to lock up once more.
Ferus moves closer to him. All emotions, whether positive or negative, seem to upset the cough.
“I’m fine,” Anakin promises as he reaches a hand to touch the soft sweater.
Ferus sees the discouraged look upon his face, and knows Anakin's not-yet-broken-in fingers aren’t registering the texture. “Here. . .” Ferus lifts the garment and gently presses it to Anakin’s cheek.
Anakin practically melts into it. “Oh, wow. That’s. . . I’m going to live in this,” he teases, face still leaning into the fabric. “This is just like this material a traveling merchant once brought to Tatooine.” Anakin now takes the pullover back into two hands and looks it over. “It was actually this very color as well – a deep ruby. . . I remember my mom made me wipe my hands on her skirt before allowing me to touch it,” Anakin laughs. “Because it was so expensive. . . We couldn’t afford it, of course. Most of the material my mom got to make our clothes was recycled from things our owners were throwing out. . . But man,” Anakin sighs. “I remember wishing I could buy that fabric – for her. . . I. . . Ferus, I can’t accept this.” Anakin offers the sweater back to him with tears behind his eyes.
Ferus delicately pushes Anakin’s arms back down to his lap. “Yes, you can,” he whispers. “I want you to have it. Believe me when I say, it belongs with you. . . even more so than I thought.” Ferus is moved by Anakin’s childhood tale. Growing up in the Temple, Ferus had never wanted for anything, but as slaves, Anakin and his mother had had to scrounge for scraps just to get by. It was a difficult past that had led into his heartbreaking future. Were the two connected?
“I’ve been thinking about my mom a lot,” Anakin snivels. “Do you know what’s happening on Tatooine? With the Empire?”
“Actually, I don’t think much has changed there. The Empire has about as much involvement with the outer rim as the Republic did; the law still doesn’t really reach them, which is good, in this case. I’m sure she’s fine,” Ferus soothes.
“Maybe we can see her when I’m able to travel again.”
“Yeah. Maybe so.” And Ferus actually really loves this idea. In the off chance, that Obi-Wan won’t be able to commit to Anakin, Anakin could have his mother. . . who is probably the only other person in the galaxy that Anakin was as close to as his Master. “We’ll see about doing that. For sure. In the meantime, wear this.” Ferus gestures to the sweater.
“Are you sure?”
“Extremely.” Ferus helps him put it on, then watches fondly as Anakin wraps his arms around himself. . . much like he had done in the dream. Of course, the overall display is quite different. They aren’t on Bellassa. They aren’t Padawans anymore, and Anakin isn’t so fresh-faced as he once was, his once rosy cheeks now chapped.
Anakin meets his gaze. “I feel better already,” he mutters.
Ferus is in awe, because the dream Anakin had said exactly that. “It looks nice,” Ferus repeats what he’d stated in that same strange illusion.
Anakin flushes. “Thank you, Ferus.”
“No problem. . . Trever was making fun of me,” Ferus admits. “He said you were like a doll that I was dressing up.”
Anakin sputters a low laugh. “He’s so funny. I like him.”
“Me too,” Ferus smiles. “I better go check in with him and Dona and see if they have everything they need in that little kitchenette.”
“You just got back.” Anakin tries not to pout. “Can I. . . Can I come with you?”
“Come to my ship?”
“Yeah,” Anakin sparks. “I mean, I can now, right? I’ve got legs. . . clothes. . .” He chuckles. “It’s not like going to tourist town; it’s right there.”
“Umm. . .”
“Unless you don’t want. . .”
“No, it’s not that. I just worry about you going up and down the ships’ ramps, and it’s so cold; you can’t get sick.”
“Well, good thing I’ve got this new cozy jumper to keep me warm.”
Ferus’ smile is subtle.
“I can do it. I know I can.”
“You’ve only just started walking around in here.” Ferus’ voice sounds strained.
Anakin shifts to rise. “I can do it. I can get dressed on my own and everything. I’ll prove it.”
Ferus shakes his head in amusement. Anakin was nothing if not determined; he’d always been that way.
“Hand me those undies!” Anakin calls humorously.
Ferus laughs at him and brings over a full set of the new clothes. “You need to put another layer on under that sweater; it is a short walk out there in the cold from ship to ship, but I suspect it might take us a minute.” He watches Anakin make the sweater and tunic swap, impressed with the control he has over his arms.
Still sitting on the bed, Anakin now struggles to bend forward to slip the underwear over his feet, the fresh wounds on his chest uncomfortably stretching. He winces.
“Sit back up!!” Ferus orders in alarm, racing over to him.
Anakin leans back and blows out a breath. “Okay, so maybe I can’t do this myself.” He feels embarrassment and disappointment sink in. “Just go,” he says sadly.
“No, I’ll help you.”
“No,” Anakin protests with a bit of emotion in his voice. “No, that’s okay.”
“Well, you have to get dressed sometime. . . Might as well be now.”
Before Anakin can argue, Jenna’s med droid enters. “Time for therapy, Master Skywalker.” Relief washes over Ferus and Anakin alike. “My, that is some nice attire you have there.”
“Thanks,” Anakin laughs. “Can you help me into the rest of it in the ‘fresher??”
“Certainly, sir.”
“I’ll wait for you,” Ferus tells Anakin tenderly; a smile forms upon the signature pink lips.
And when Anakin emerges from the refresher, he does so a new man, and Ferus feels a warmth at seeing another piece of Anakin restored.
“AZ says getting myself dressed and changing transports counts as more than enough therapy for the day,” Anakin proclaims.
Ferus silently stares, finding solace in watching Anakin take confident steps in his new boots.
“Wow, I feel like I’ve really got the hang of this now with not having to split my attention with keeping that skimpy gown closed.”
Ferus is enamored with the way Anakin attaches positivity and humor to each achievement. He’s such a different Anakin from the one he once knew – the Anakin who was always impatient in accomplishing his goals, and rarely satisfied once he did, always striving for the next level of excellence. But now, though Ferus knows Anakin’s pride is hurt, he moves forward without complaint. He’s humble and appreciative. . . and again, that word that had earlier slipped comes to mind. . . sweet. Anakin is sweet. Ferus resets, shifting his focus back to the current objective, “Are you ready to try the incline?”
“I can do it,” Anakin reiterates.
And Ferus believes he can. “It’s windy, and the ramp is slick. I want you to hold onto AZ and to me, okay? And you’ll wear my coat.” Ferus helps him into it.
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s more important you keep warm.”
“Whoa! What are we doing?” Jenna encounters them in the hall and dramatically blocks their way with raised hands.
“I’m going to Ferus’ ship,” Anakin announces proudly. “It’s my therapy session for the evening.”
Jenna eyes Ferus. “You’re actually allowing this?” she asks in surprise. “Mr. Cautious? Mr. One-limb-at-a-time?”
Ferus rolls his eyes. “Well, as you know, I’ll be entertaining guests on my transport, and Anakin wants to be with us. . . You don’t think he’s ready?” Ferus feels the doubt creep in.
“No, I think he’ll do fine. You worry too much,” Jenna sasses. “Nice sweater,” she compliments as she observes Anakin’s new attire.
“Thanks,” Anakin grins. “Will you come get some soup later?”
Jenna scrunches her face. “Right. The soup. . .” She pretends to ponder, then she smiles. “Sure. But is there room for me on that microscopic ship?”
“Not really,” Ferus laughs. “But we’ll make it work.”
“Let me know when I should come by.” And Jenna is actually looking forward to it.
When Anakin makes it to the ship’s exit, and feels the rush of cold air from the descending ramp, he yelps. “Ohhhh, I’m not sure I thought this through.” His eyes go wide.
Ferus makes sure the coat is sufficiently secured and wraps an arm around Anakin’s waist. Anakin reciprocates, and clutches the AZ droid with his opposite hand. They slowly inch down.
Anakin’s first step into the snow almost brings him forward to his knees. Ferus withholds verbal panic and pulls him more tightly to his side. “Halfway,” he coaches. “I think going up will be easier than going down, too.”
Anakin nods. They carefully move up the ramp and safely into the ex-imperial craft. The ramp closes, and Anakin lets out a loud sigh of relief. “I knew it was cold out there, but damn! I think I lost an ear back there – does Jenna have any mechno ears lying around??”
“Well, if I had known you’d be venturing out into the snow this evening, I would’ve gotten you a coat and a hat,” Ferus gripes as he examines the red ears.
“I’m just kidding; I’m fine, and I don’t plan on being out there for any extended period of time, anyway.”
“If that will be all, Master Skywalker, I will depart,” AZ inquires. “And Master Olin may contact me to assist in your journey back.”
“I think Trever and I can get him back,” Ferus determines. “Thank you, AZ.”
“You are welcome, sir.”
The droid departs just as Trever comes into view. “Anakin!! Look at you! Ferus got his babydoll all dressed up!”
Ferus ruffles Trever’s blue hair, and quickly turns away, so neither he, nor Anakin, can see the red on his cheeks that has unexpectedly bloomed.
Anakin is tongue-tied for the moment, but his sucked-in smile is wide.
“How’s that soup coming?” Ferus calls to Dona as they near the small kitchen space from where a pleasant aroma is emerging.
“You’re just in time to help,” Dona replies. “Anakin!” she exclaims in surprise. “You’ve come to help, too?”
“Yep." The succinct response is dripping with boastfulness. . . a cool self-certainty.
And Dona is full of glee to witness it. “That’s great." She lists the tasks that need tending, and Ferus intercedes when Anakin offers to chop vegetables.
“It’s not as if I can lose a finger,” Anakin complains. “Come on, let me try it. It’ll be good practice.”
“There’s plenty of things you can practice holding that aren’t knives,” Ferus directs.
Trever raises a spoon. “Like this. You can take my job; I was going to stir once everything is in the pot.”
“Perfect,” Ferus agrees. “Work on your spoon grip, and we’ll let you know when we’re ready for you.” Ferus picks up the knife, but his experience in chopping vegetables actually stops at being able to hold the tool.
Trever leads Anakin away. Using the spoon, they’ll tweak the sensors on Anakin’s fingers, in order to find the proper combo for Anakin to perform his upcoming duty.
“Like this.” Dona takes the knife from Ferus’ hand and demonstrates the best way to slice the spud.
It looks easy enough; Ferus takes over.
“You seem good, Fairy,” Dona observes.
“Yeah?” Ferus keeps his eyes fixed on the potato.
“Yeah. I think this is a good mission for you right now. . . taking care of Anakin. . . I know you like to keep busy, and I know that’s especially important these days.”
Ferus nods, not interested, and quite frankly, not able to discuss what he knows Dona is insinuating.
“Protecting others. . . It seems that is always where you have excelled. It makes you shine, and I can see you have a little of your sheen back since the last time I saw you.”
Ferus doesn’t look up, but reaches for another potato.
Dona won’t further press. She just wants Ferus to know he can open up about Roan if he chooses to, and she wants him to recognize the impact Anakin is having on him. “So, once Anakin is healed, what are your plans? Will you go to the base with the other Jedi, together?”
“I’m not sure,” Ferus answers truthfully. He briefly imagines what that might be like. Returning to base ‘together’ with Anakin, instead of with. . .
“Ferus!!”
Ferus jolts when Anakin calls his name. He turns to see him proudly holding the spoon and mimicking a stirring gesture. Anakin shines. . . So, Ferus shines, too.
*
The soup comes out great. Jenna joins the quartet more eagerly than Ferus had expected, and they all enjoy their meal and time together. Anakin had had difficultly holding onto the smaller spoon, so Ferus had poured his dinner into a cup, but Anakin had stayed persistent, experimenting with the spoon in between taking sips.
When their bellies are full and the table is clear, Trever proposes a card game. Initially, Anakin is thrilled at the prospect. . . until he tries to pick up a card. Ferus decides he and Anakin will play as a team and he’ll hold the cards, which works out better in having an even number of four players for their game.
Somewhere in the midst of round three, Ferus sees Anakin’s head dip. “Hey, you okay?” He lightly touches Anakin’s thigh. “Bed time? I can walk you back.”
“No,” Anakin protests. “No. I’m fine.”
“It’s been a very eventful day for you,” Ferus notes. “It’s okay if you’re tired.”
“Mm not,” Anakin lies lethargically, then his head involuntarily plops on Ferus’ shoulder.
“Okay. Yeah, you are.” Ferus lets out a low laugh.
“Not,” Anakin defends as he strains his neck to stay upright. “Just five minutes right here.” His head lowers to Ferus’ shoulder again.
“You know you need to sleep flat on your back right now,” Ferus instructs.
Anakin whines.
“I think we are past the point of no return,” Jenna remarks. “He’s too fatigued to safely walk back.”
“Don’t wanna walk back,” Anakin mumbles. “Fine here.”
“Put him in bed here,” Dona proposes. “Jenna already said she had room for Trever and I on her ship.”
Ferus looks to Jenna. “Is that okay with you? We can bring Anakin’s monitor over here.”
“He’ll be fine without it,” Jenna assures. “And yes, Dona and Trever are welcome to stay with me. I have an extra bed and a sleep couch. . . That’s certainly more than what you’ve got to offer over here,” she taunts.
“We can’t all live in luxury,” Ferus playfully fights back. “. . .They would be more comfortable with you.” He turns to look at Anakin, who is falling into a deeper slumber. “Hey, come on; let’s go lie down,” he tells him as he hoists him up, arm around his waist, just as it had been when they’d walked over.
They migrate to the back of the ship, Anakin tiredly stomping along the way.
“Sleep here?” Anakin asks as Ferus opens the cabin door.
“Yep. You take the pilot’s bunk tonight.”
“But where you sleep, Fess?” Anakin queries as he moves to a horizontal position on the bed.
“It’s not as if I’ve been sleeping in here anyway,” Ferus reminds. “I’ve been staying with you. Remember?”
“Yeah,” Anakin yawns. “Bring your chair here. . . in here with me. Please.”
“I don’t think we can even get my chair in this little closet-sized cabin,” Ferus answers as he removes Anakin’s boots.
Anakin moves closer to the wall to make room for Ferus, but this cot is in no way built for two; even so, Ferus smiles at Anakin's considerate nature.
“Night, Fess,” Anakin mumbles.
“Sleep well. . . sweet Anakin.”
Notes:
Let’s talk about that sweater, shall we? 😈
If you follow me on socials, you’ll know this isn’t the first time I’ve put Anakin in a red sweater 🤭
Christmas 2022:
The following holiday season, I saw this amazing post! Beautiful artwork of Anakin in a cozy red sweater by the lovely Romina 🥰 who had done a gorgeous comm for me on my other work, Streets of Gold (chapter 41).
I later found out that Romina did this piece for a “Draw this in your Style” challenge initiated by an artist I had never heard of, who goes by emilykreates. Look at this! He's gorgeous! And there is so much more incredible Anakin art on Em's full profile 🤩 You can also see all the DTIYS challenge submissions on the saved insta stories here. So many Anakins in red sweaters!! Ahh! It really is his color 😍So, when I was working on the surgery chapter this past January, I guess holiday sweaters and that DTIYS challenge art were fresh on my mind, because as I'm casually writing a kissy dream sequence, I suddenly find myself typing words about this magical pullover on a whim lol.
Then, I remembered:
Exert from Jedi Quest Book 4 – The Master of Disguise: As a boy on Tatooine, he had longed for nice things, expensive things, for his mother. Once a space merchant had come through the slave hovels with fabric for sale. He remembered how Shmi’s hand had lingered on a rich piece of cloth. He remembered the color, a luxurious ruby. He remembered how it burned inside him that he was unable to buy it for her. How he had vowed that someday he would. . . 🤯
Anyway, I think that fancy fabric is cashmere, and the sweater in this story looks like this:
Yes, that’s me lol.And that is your history lesson on Anakin in red sweaters. . . and let us not forget how good he looks in his Clone Wars armor featuring that same dark red hue ❤️
Thank you for reading my new chapter. . . and all this other nonsense if you got that far lol. Love you, people 😘
Chapter 11
Notes:
The plan for this fic was to keep the chapters short and easy to manage when editing. . . Oh well. Here is one over 7k 😅 Hope you like!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It is nighttime, the day after the last. . . Jenna had made her departure in the morning, and Dona and Trever had left a few hours later, post lunch.
It feels a bit awkward for Ferus with he and Anakin alone, the company the last couple of rotations having acted as a buffer. . . because Anakin could roam as he pleased now. And since he’s been able to do so, Ferus has noticed he is never far away.
Most steps Ferus takes are trailed by Anakin’s. If Ferus takes a seat, Anakin takes one beside him, and if Ferus opts to stand, Anakin stands right next to him. And Ferus tenses every time. It had felt more casual, friendly, and community-like in the presence of others, but now. . . one on one. . . it feels. . . intimate.
So, Ferus doesn’t sit still for the evening, so that Anakin isn’t able to be plastered to his side. He instead does what he always does when trying to avoid anything on the emotional circuit – he finds work.
In making room for a second occupant aboard the ship, there is a need to reorganize the space. Anakin will of course be given the pilot’s suite; he needs the support of the bed, and to be able to lie flat on his back. Ferus removes his personal things from the suite’s tiny wardrobe and into a storage compartment in the hallway. It is a good therapy exercise for Anakin to put his new clothes on hangers and into the closet. And while Anakin does that, Ferus prepares for the refresher to now be utilized by two. He takes all of his hygiene items out and transfers them to a bin he’ll keep stored in the compartment with his clothing. It’ll make it easier to carry the items back and forth when it’s his turn in the refresher. He designates a second bin for Anakin for the same purpose.
Anakin will take standard showers at night now, and his bacta baths have been reduced to morning only. Maneuvering the tube onto his ship had been the challenge Ferus had been expecting. Fortunately, Trever had been there to assist, while Dona and Jenna had practically had to restrain Anakin, who was struggling to sit idle while the other men did the heavy lifting.
The portable tank now sits where the hideaway table once was. It was the most sufficient spot, as far as space, and it is convenient to have the circular bench seating available for when Anakin emerges from his soaks.
Ferus is currently lurking outside of the 'fresher door. It had been about a half hour since Anakin had gone to take his first bacta-less shower, and the water had shut off several minutes ago.
“Anakin?” Ferus can no longer stand the wait to see what the holdup is. “Do you need help?”
“No,” Anakin lies. He’d intended to apply his healing ointment himself, but has just discovered Jenna hadn’t left them with the applicator the med droid had been using to apply it. He’s gotten the container open, but knows dipping his mechno fingers into it is not a good idea.
“Come on out,” Ferus calls, knowing something is up.
Anakin slides the door open. His lower half is covered in a towel, clamped closed with his fingers, and the tub of salve is held in the opposite hand. His expression is embarrassed. . . shy.
Ferus had seen Anakin retrieve the ointment and tuck it into his carryall container before entering the refresher, but he had been prepared to assist with this.
“Jenna forgot to leave the sponge AZ was using,” Anakin tells him miserably.
“No problem,” Ferus says coolly. “Come sit down.” He motions to the bench.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine to skip a treatment or two until we get one.”
“We don’t want to slow your progress,” Ferus conveys evenly as he washes his hands in the kitchenette sink on the other side of the bench. Then, he moves to join Anakin. . . who is slumped over with his head down. “Sit up straight,” Ferus reminds as he faintly touches Anakin’s bare shoulder.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Anakin mutters woefully.
“What if I want to?” Ferus’ words are kind.
“You’ve already done so much for me; you shouldn’t have to do this, too.”
“I told you I don’t mind.” Ferus tries his best to ignore the sniffles that have started. He’s no stranger to Anakin’s tears by now, but he doesn’t want him to cry. . . because then he’ll be looking for a hug. Ferus scoops out a generous amount of the salve and spreads it over his fingertips.
“You should’ve just left with the others.” Anakin’s voice is shaky.
“Stop that,” Ferus scolds more firmly than intended. “You know I’m not leaving you,” he assures more gently, then slathers the healing balm on Anakin’s chest.
“Sorry,” Anakin chokes out.
“Don’t be, okay? Don’t worry about it. We all need help sometimes, right?”
Anakin nods weakly. “Yes. I guess.”
Ferus continues on, dispersing the restorative ointment all down Anakin’s torso. Anakin has mostly gone quiet, save for slight hums of satisfaction and relief. “Feel good?” Ferus acknowledges.
“Yeah," Anakin breathes out. “Sorry. This is basically the best part of my day.” His chuckle is sheepish.
“And you wanted to skip this,” Ferus playfully chastises. “I’m glad it helps you so much,” he adds more seriously. And Ferus is truly amazed at the difference this miracle cream has made in just the last few rotations alone. The skin grafts aren’t so red, and the flesh there blends more naturally with the rest. The surgery incision is a healthy pink, and the prior burns are looking less irritated as well. Most noticeable, the more textured ridges on Anakin’s face seemed to have smoothed.
“It really does,” Anakin affirms. “I’m always so itchy, and it’s like my skin is constantly. . . vibrating. The second this stuff hits it, it calms everything down – puts out the fire. . . and tonight, with your hands. . . your hands feel better than the sponge,” he confesses.
“Then we don’t even need to worry about getting one, if this works better for you,” Ferus points out.
“Well, if we had the sponge, I could do it all myself. . . except for my back.”
“I don’t mind,” Ferus repeats. “Really.” He smears cream down the length of Anakin’s arms, to the point where the prosthetics begin.
“Don’t worry about. . . my legs,” Anakin suddenly tells Ferus uncomfortably.
Ferus eyes him. “Your legs need the treatment, too, don’t they?” He sees Anakin shrug, and Ferus knows this is his way of giving him an out to keep from going under the towel. . . It’s not his legs Anakin’s worried about. . .
Ferus lifts the towel just enough to apply the salve to the portion of flesh above Anakin’s mechanical knees. “We’ll just get this area here. . . but if you need me to—”
“No,” Anakin sharply interrupts. “It’s not necessary.”
“Anakin.”
“It’s fine, Ferus. Please. Just. . .” The intermittent rattle from Anakin’s new lungs is stirred.
“All right.” Ferus is willing to drop the sensitive subject, especially if it is bothersome enough to aggravate Anakin’s breathing. Ferus now moves behind him to get his back. He starts low and works his way up. He can literally feel how Anakin has tensed up at the former unbroachable topic. So, with just a light amount of pressure, Ferus rubs circles into the tight muscles as he goes.
Anakin involuntarily moans when Ferus gets to his neck and shoulders. “Thank you,” he tells him emotionally.
“You’re welcome,” Ferus replies at a whisper. He flexes his fingers over the back of Anakin’s skull now. “Huh. . .” he remarks curiously, at spotting something worth celebrating.
“What?”
The word is encompassed with dread, but Ferus knows Anakin will be pleased to hear this. “You have a little sprout of hair back here,” he reveals simply as he continues massaging the ointment into Anakin’s scalp.
“Really??” Anakin queries excitedly, then releases some controlled coughs.
“Uh, huh.” Ferus smiles and further inspects the healing flesh. “And I can see follicles all over.”
“You can?!”
“Yep. Even here.” Ferus’ fingertips trace the rougher slash on the left that runs from forehead to crown.
“Jenna didn’t seem hopeful when I asked if my hair would ever regrow!”
“Well, it is,” Ferus confirms.
Anakin grins. “I know it’s silly; it’s just hair, but. . .”
“It’s not,” Ferus promises. “It’s a step in making you feeling like you again, and that’s important after all you’ve been through.”
“I wanted. . . I hoped. . .”
“What?” Ferus relocates to face Anakin again and starts with slathering salve over his cheeks.
“Part of me doesn’t want Obi-Wan to see me this way. . .” Anakin replies honestly, yet shamefully. “He used to tell me. . . Well, sometimes he’d call me. . . his beautiful boy. But I’m not so beautiful now,” he explains sadly.
“Beauty is inward,” Ferus asserts. “Obi-Wan knows that.” He swipes the balm over Anakin’s forehead and down his T-zone to the tip of his nose.
“Well, yes, but. . . Once he said I had pretty lashes.”
Ferus snorts. “Okay.”
Anakin frowns. “Okay,” he repeats back in offense.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like. . . Okay, in what context did your Master say you had pretty lashes?” Ferus can’t help but chuckle.
Now Anakin huskily laughs, too. “We had just got back from a mission. We were both really tired. I followed him to his quarters; I’d helped him carry his things inside. He plopped down on his floor cushion, and I was too sleepy to make it to mine, so I got on the cushion with him. . . He fussed,” Anakin giggles happily at the memory. “But he didn’t make me move when I put my head on his stomach, but he did tell me I was getting too old to cuddle him like a youngling.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen,” Anakin answers plainly. “It wasn’t that long ago.”
Ferus stays quiet as he works under Anakin’s nose and around his mouth carefully. That was quite a long time ago, actually. . .
“I looked up at him, prepared to get told to move, but instead, he combed his fingers through my hair, and then held my face. . . and he told me I had pretty lashes.”
“Then what happened?”
“Nothing. We took a nap.”
“Well, if your hair is growing back, then I surmise your lashes will as well.”
“What about my eyebrows?”
Ferus laughs. “That might be a little more tricky, but at least we can draw those on.” Ferus holds Anakin’s jaw where he has just applied the last bit of ointment. He thoughtfully examines the area where the brows once were.
“Do you think I’m beautiful, Ferus? I mean, did you think I was?”
Ferus is taken aback by the question; Anakin’s jaw still rests on his palm.
“You were always very beautiful, Anakin. . . Shining like a sun in the Force.” Ferus reads his disappointment. Of course, Anakin is referring to physical beauty. The truth was, as insufferable as Anakin Skywalker could be at times, Ferus had always felt an attraction to him. Anakin was absolutely gorgeous – everyone thought so. Even Roan had commented on it when they had first seen him on a HoloNet headline at the start of the war. The simple action shot had come out looking like the cover of a romance novel. . . the hero with the bulky physique, longer hair blowing in the wind. Roan had teased him, calling his former, fellow Jedi ‘mouth-watering,’ and playfully accusing Ferus of a childhood crush.
The Anakin Ferus knows now looks different than the one from his past, but the fact remains, “I think you’re still beautiful,” Ferus concedes gingerly. “Your skin might be a little lighter, and perhaps a little rougher to the touch. . . And maybe you don’t have brows and lashes, yet, but you don’t need them. You’re beautiful, Anakin, and I think Obi-Wan would say the same.” Ferus sees color come to Anakin’s cheeks, as he adds, “Same sweet eyes. Same handsome nose. Same brilliant smile.”
Anakin grins bashfully. “I always thought you had very cute ears,” he confesses lightheartedly as he reaches up to take Ferus’ lobe between his index finger and thumb.
Ferus jerks his head away at the severe pinching sensation.
“Sorry!” Anakin quickly pulls his hand back and wrestles to clear his throat.
“No, it’s okay. It’s probably good practice for your fine motor skills. . .” Was he inviting Anakin to try again? To tenderly touch him again? It must’ve sounded like an invite, because Anakin’s mechno fingers are in his field of vision once more. Ferus doesn’t flinch this time; Anakin applies the correct amount of force now. “Can you feel it?” he surveys.
“Barely, but yes. I guess because it’s such a delicate part of you – small.” Anakin moves his fingertips to trace up Ferus’ sideburn and into his hair. “I can’t really feel your hair either. It’s like, my fingers know something is there, but I can’t register the soft texture. . . It looks really soft, anyway.” Anakin meticulously pets his head and is rewarded with a low, but melodious laugh. He slides his index finger down and across Ferus’ brow, and over the hollow of his cheek, then to the corner of his lips. “I think you’re beautiful, too,” he promises sweetly.
Ferus cowers, dropping his face, forcing Anakin to retract his hand. “Thanks,” he mumbles as he moves to stand.
“No, thank you, for helping me. I—I really appreciate it.”
“I’m happy to help. . . It’s getting late.”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s get you to bed.” Ferus gestures in the direction of the cabin.
“Are you going to bed??”
“I’ll take my shower once you’re settled.”
“I’ll wait up for you.”
“You don’t have to; there’s no reason to.”
“I want to. Maybe we could, you know, talk a little more, or I dunno. . .” Anakin trails off.
“You need your rest. We’ll work on tuning those finger sensors tomorrow after your bacta bath.”
“Okay. . .” Anakin tries to mask the rejection he feels. He knows he and Ferus were never the best of friends, but they certainly weren’t rival Padawans any longer. Anakin wants to spend time with him beyond Ferus caring for him; he wants to get to know him.
But Anakin knows by now, what Ferus says, goes. . . and there was a time when this very behavior- this extreme bossiness and lack of consult - would’ve infuriated him, but now. . . Anakin waits for his direction. Because he knows, he would be lost without Ferus.
*
After his shower, first Ferus checks in on Anakin and makes sure he is sleeping soundly. It’s what he’s done every night since he’d come back into his life, before sifting through the latest headlines on his holopad to make sure there has been no mention of Vader’s disappearance in the news – still all clear. . . but his conscious is not.
Tonight is the night; Ferus has decided. Enough time has passed, and there’s no need to prolong it. He quietly creeps to the far, opposite end of the ship and closes himself in the cargo area below. He holds his comm in a trembling hand.
Obi-Wan appears swiftly when Ferus hits the frequency. The holoprojection is from the chest up, and Ferus can clearly see the remorse on the man’s face. His eyes are full of grief, and it’s apparent he’s restraining himself from speaking. But that’s good, because it’s Ferus who has something crucial to say.
“I’m sorry,” he starts.
“No!” Obi-Wan protests. “No, I am – I should’ve told you.”
“There wasn’t any reason why you should’ve, and it could’ve clouded my judgement. I know you knew that. And I. . . I know it would’ve been hard for you to say it. . . to really face it.” Ferus fills the void when Obi-Wan remains quiet. “I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you; I’m sorry.”
“I. . . Thank you, darling.” Obi-Wan releases a breath. “I appreciate that, but don’t feel sorry for me, because what you’re going through – it’s my fault.”
“No, don’t—”
“Yes. He was my responsibility. It was my failing that made him what he’s become, and I’m sorry for what he’s done; I’m sorry for how he’s hurt you,” Obi-Wan laments. “I wish I would’ve been there. I regret not telling you, and I regret not staying with you.”
Ferus is wordless for the moment. He does wish Obi-Wan had told him. He does wish he had stayed with him, but though he doesn’t know the reason for Anakin’s fall, he is sure Obi-Wan isn’t to blame.
“I know it’s too little, too late, but I’ll come, as I said before. I’d like to be with you; I’d like to be there for you.”
“What about your mission?”
Obi-Wan sighs. “It’s on-going.”
“You said you had to stay on that world before, why not now?” Ferus pries.
“Well, I do need to be here, but . .”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it is!” Obi-Wan replies heated, then, recoils. “It is,” he restates more calmly. “And if you need me, if you want me, I’ll be there. You aren’t alone. And things are settled here for now; he’ll—it’ll be okay.”
“I want you to come.” The phrase is rushed – desperate, because Ferus really does want Obi-Wan to meet him on Toloran, and not just for Anakin’s sake.
“Send me the coordinates,” Obi-Wan relays professionally.
“There’s something you need to know first.”
“Okay. . .”
“I have a holo-recording; if you really intend to make the trip, you need to watch it first.”
“All right. I do. I will.”
“I need you to prepare yourself for what you’re about to see. . .”
“Should I sit down?” Obi-Wan snickers.
“Yes,” Ferus informs critically.
“Oh. . . Okay.” Obi-Wan watches as Ferus disappears and a pre-recorded holovid takes his place.
Obi-Wan first sees the silhouettes of two individuals – one tall – one short. They are in what appears to be the commons area of a consular-class cruiser. The shorter person’s back is to the recording device, but Obi-Wan can see the taller person is a man, the age unclear. He is bald, and his face looks to be more distorted than it normally would over the already-fuzzy, blue transmission. Obi-Wan squints his eyes to see. He can hear faint dialogue.
‘Let me do it! I want to try!’ The man holds out a hand. Now the other individual’s face comes into view, and it is one that Obi-Wan recognizes – Ferus’ young companion from Bellassa, Trever Flume. Obi-Wan’s head cocks to the side inquisitively, and he smiles as he watches the boy give the man a hair comb. The man takes the tool into an unsure hand, makes a point to securely wrap his fingers around it, and brings it close to Trever’s face.
‘If I end up looking like you, I’m going to sue.’ Obi-Wan hears Trever warn in his snarky, playful speak, and it makes him laugh. . . and it makes the man holding the comb laugh as well. . . and that’s when Obi-Wan sees it – hears it. He’d thought the voice sounded familiar, but the laugh – the laugh is unmistakable, as is the smile. Obi-Wan gasps.
Ferus can still see a live projection of Obi-Wan as he views the transmission he’s sent over. “It’s him.” Ferus’ voice dubs over the recording as it continues to play. “His memory was wiped. He doesn’t remember any of it. The last thing he remembers is the mission when we impersonated The Slams – when he was seventeen.”
Obi-Wan stares in shock, hand over mouth. Anakin rakes the comb through Trever’s blue locks with a familiar look of concentration. . . scrunched brow. . . the tip of the tongue only slightly protruding from plush lips.
It can’t be.
It can’t be.
“It can’t be.” Obi-Wan closes his eyes. This isn’t real; it has to be a trick. “If you’re with him, then you’re in danger!” he abruptly shouts emotionally. “You both are!”
“No,” Ferus argues tamely. “It’s only me now, and I’m fine. We both are; we’re in a safe place.”
“Leave him!” Obi-Wan squawks. “You can’t trust him; it’s a trap!”
“It’s not,” Ferus says firmly, but gently. “I’ve been with him for more than a week now.”
“And you’ll be dead if another week goes by!”
“He can’t even take care of himself!” Ferus’ voice reaches equal emotion. “I help him into a bacta bath every morning and into bed every night! I help him dress – I help him eat. Trust me when I say, he’s harmless.”
“No.” Obi-Wan closes out the holofile and Ferus reappears. “He’s manipulating you; it’s a ruse. His intent is not pure, I can promise you. Please. I am begging you. Leave him and come to me.”
“I won’t,” Ferus responds stubbornly.
“Give me your coordinates,” Obi-Wan barks. “I am coming there – to end this. I won’t let him hurt you the way he’s hurt so many others. He is LYING to you. How can you let yourself be fooled by this?"
Ferus has stopped listening. He is shaking his head and his fist as Obi-Wan goes on. He snaps, “Look at him!! LOOK! I want you to really look!” Ferus reactivates the file.
“Stop.” Obi-Wan shuts his eyes again.
“Look. . . It’s him. . . It’s Anakin.”
“ANAKIN IS GONE!” Obi-Wan yells, then withers. “He’s gone.”
Ferus waits with an aching heart. A hand shields Obi-Wan’s eyes, but Ferus can hear his soft cries.
“He’s gone,” Obi-Wan blubbers. “My baby is gone; that’s not him. That’s not my boy.”
“It is,” Ferus chants. “It’s him. And he needs you. Look,” Ferus tells him again. “Look at him. That’s him.”
Obi-Wan opens one eye at a time. He sees Trever take the comb back from Anakin, then attempt to clasp their hands together in victory. Anakin hesitates, so Trever places his own hand in Anakin’s mechanical one, and physically closes the palm on Anakin’s behalf.
And there is the signature grin again, as Anakin attempts to put his arm around Trever’s shoulders. In return, the young lad sweetly snuggles to Anakin’s chest. The uneasy flexing of metal fingers and the fidgety adjusting of the space between his arms suggest the surprise embrace is at an equal level of difficulty as the handshake. Obi-Wan witnesses the same endearing look of concentration, before both boys are relaxed. The hug is warm. . . It’s genuine. It’s Anakin.
Ferus sees the change in Obi-Wan’s face, and knows he’s beginning to find acceptance. “He misses you. . . He whines for you constantly,” Ferus notes with kind humor and a chuckle.
And Obi-Wan misses him, too. Every day. Every moment. Could they really be together again? “S-send me the coordinates,” he utters.
“I will. And I won’t tell him we talked. Take your time.” Ferus knows Obi-Wan will likely need a rotation or two to process this.
“If you will, send me the. . . the. . .”
“I’ll send the full video file, too.” Ferus understands why Obi-Wan would need to see it again.
“I don’t understand. . . How can you. . . ? What he’s taken from you. . .”
“It’s not his fault,” Ferus insists, and he has to make himself believe that as much as he has to make Obi-Wan believe it.
“I must go now.”
“Okay. . . If you decide to come, just let me know.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
Ferus nods. Obi-Wan meets his gaze, for only a moment, then his holoimage vanishes. Ferus sighs. He immediately taps the prompts to transfer the video file of Anakin and Trever. He wonders if Obi-Wan will replay it as often as he does. He then sends the coded coordinates for Toloran. Now, he can only wait.
Ferus finds himself peeking in on Anakin once more before settling on the dining bench. He squirms to get comfortable. Like always, it’s going to be a long night.
The sound of Obi-Wan’s voice echoes in his mind as Ferus drifts off. . . I don’t understand. . . How can you. . . ? What he’s taken from you. . .
taken from you. . .
taken from you. . .
taken from you. . .
And here is another of Ferus’ dreams featuring Anakin’s youthful and pristine face. But that gorgeous face is wrecked; Anakin is crying — bawling. Ferus rushes to him.
“Anakin?” he begins urgently. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Anakin hiccups. “I didn’t mean it; I’m sorry.”
“Didn’t mean what? What happened??”
Anakin steps aside, still sobbing, so Ferus can see. . . Roan. Roan is lying on the ground, the paralleled lightsaber wound to the chest. “NO!” Ferus drops to his knees and cradles his husband’s wilted form. “Roan,” Ferus whimpers. “Please, no. Not again.”
Though it had not been there before, the hum of the lightsaber can now be heard. Ferus sees the red glow out of the corner of his eye as Anakin steps forward with the weapon held at his side.
“I didn’t mean to do it!” Anakin wails.
“But you did!” Ferus screams. “Get out of here! GO!”
Anakin backs away and fades into blackness, but the red illumination persists.
Ferus tries to communicate with his lover. “Oh, Roan. Please, don’t die; I can’t lose you again. Roan? Oh, God, please. . . ROAN!!!”
Ferus jolts upright, breathing heavily, forehead beaded in sweat.
“Ferus?”
Disoriented, Ferus nearly swings his fist at the sound of Anakin’s voice, but whether the defense is in response to the who or the how, Ferus doesn’t know.
Anakin sits down beside Ferus. He understands the burden of nightmares better than most. He’d heard Ferus screaming through the closed cabin door, and had darted over on wobbly legs to get to him.
“Ferus?” Anakin tries again. Ferus is folded forward with his face in his hands, and though he knows he isn’t supposed to, Anakin dips down in an attempt to make eye contact with him.
Ferus feels him moving in. “Please go, Anakin,” he requests.
“I’m not leaving you,” Anakin tenderly echoes the same phrase Ferus had held for him just hours prior.
“Please,” Ferus begs.
“No, not while you’re this upset.” Anakin places a hand on Ferus’ back. Even without a keen sense of touch, he can feel how it makes him tense. “Do you want to talk about it??”
“No!” Ferus grits out angrily as he jerks away. “No,” he repeats more brokenly. . . He feels like a failure when a sob escapes his throat.
“Ferus,” Anakin breathes in sympathy. He replaces his hand, and Ferus doesn’t shake it off this time.
“I’m fine,” Ferus lies. He sounds stuffy and is continuously wiping at his downcast eyes.
“Come see. Come here.” Anakin secures his arm around Ferus’ waist, and together, they rise.
Ferus doesn’t understand what Anakin is trying to accomplish, but he goes with him willingly. And when Anakin takes him through the pilot’s cabin door, he doesn’t have the energy to argue; he wants the comfort of the bed, so he takes it, and plants his face into the pillow, still huffing tormented breaths.
Anakin perches on the edge of the bunk. His not-so-gentle hand moves carefully down Ferus’ back. He is mindful of the pressure he applies, and hopes his metal fingers don’t feel too cold to comfort. “Just a dream,” he coaches, just as his Master used to soothe him after a nightmare. “It was only a dream.”
Ferus keeps his face hidden. He wants to explain that it wasn’t a dream, and that his husband was really gone – by the very hand that stroked his back. . . though, in both the metaphorical and literal sense, it was a different hand.
And there was the root of the problem.
Ferus is exhausted.
He’s tired of the work it takes to mentally separate Anakin from Vader. He’s tired of the effort required in having to filter everything he thinks and says. And he’s tired in the very general sense, because sleeping in chairs and benches for only a couple of hours at a time each night has done him no favors.
Ferus wants to sleep.
For once, he wants to shut off his brain and truly find peace. He doesn’t want to think of Vader. He doesn’t want to think of Anakin, and he especially doesn’t want to think of Roan.
So, Ferus gives in. He gives in to the warm bed, and to Anakin’s soothing touch. He accepts long-needed comfort, and he accepts the forbidden affection.
Anakin stays with Ferus until he falls asleep, pleased to have returned the favor for at least one night. He watches Ferus in the dark. He’s rolled over, turning his back to him and coiling into a fetal position. Anakin momentarily fights with the blankets, unable to get a grip on the edge of them, but with much determination, he eventually, and successfully, tucks in his friend.
Anakin reaches for his red pullover before vacating the room. Now, he steps out and looks at the circular seating where Ferus had been sleeping and frowns. Ferus will fuss if he finds him there in the morning – he constantly reminds that he needs to keep his torso straight. He can probably convince him he didn’t go back to sleep. . . He’ll have to make sure he’s up before him.
Anakin’s eyes move to a timer in the kitchen area. He sets it for just two hours. Then, he stretches out as much as he can on the curved bench, closes his eyes, and easily returns to sleep.
Two hours later, the alarm sounds, and Anakin does something he does not much care to do these days; he opens his senses in the Force to get a feel for Ferus’ current state and location – he’s remains asleep in the cabin, meaning Anakin has been triumphant in his attempt to cover up his poor sleeping posture.
Anakin stands and stretches. His stomach growls. He appreciatively thinks of how all of his meals in the last week have magically appeared in front of him. . . and how it might be nice to have breakfast ready for Ferus when he awakens.
At times, Anakin has difficultly processing all Ferus has done for him, particularly when considering their tumultuous past. But Ferus is so different now, and Anakin feels different, too. He no longer cares about being stronger, or faster, or better with a lightsaber; he only cares about Ferus. Because Ferus has been so diligent in caring for him. And to see him hurt and upset by whatever awful nightmare he’d had was disheartening. The way he’d cried out the name. . . It wasn’t very different from the way Anakin can recall crying out for his mother in dreams from his youth; Ferus was dreaming of someone he loved whom he was separated from.
Anakin hopes Ferus will talk to him, hopes he’ll want to open up to him, because in just this past rotation, he feels as if Ferus has been pulling away. . . just as they’d been growing closer. And Anakin can’t lose this relationship that has unexpectedly become so precious to him. He can’t lose Ferus.
Anakin searches through the miniature cabinets to see what’s available for breakfast, but there isn’t much he trusts his hands to do as far as meal prep; he’ll have to settle for the readymade stuff. He uncovers a small stockpile of nonperishable foods and plucks out the ration bar flavors he’s noticed Ferus eating most often.
Next, Anakin takes the jug of moonberry juice from the chiller; it had seemed to be Ferus’ beverage of choice in the mornings. . . but pouring it into a glass himself will be a challenge. He takes a deep breath as he removes the lid. . . then stops. . . He’d rather Ferus not wake up to a mess. Anakin sighs and puts the juice back in its place.
He leans against the counter near the rations and waits. . . Thoughts of his Master, and the mornings they’d shared together, come to his mind. If Obi-Wan were here, the smell of brewing tea would be filling the room about now. Anakin wonders who his Master shares his breakfast with these days. . .
Anakin urgently straightens when he hears Ferus’ footsteps approaching.
“Hi!” he greets, but Ferus averts his eyes the moment they meet his own.
“Hey,” Ferus replies with much less enthusiasm. “What are you doing?”
“I was. . . Well, I wanted to have your juice ready for you, but I. . . I was nervous to pour it. . .” Anakin takes the jug from the cooler again.
It’s so sweet and considerate, and Ferus wants to smile, but he can’t. “Thanks, but I don’t want any right now.” Ferus plops down on the bench.
Anakin’s shoulders drop. He once again replaces the carton. “Not hungry either?” he asks as he moves nears the bench.
“Not really.”
“Did you get back to sleep okay?”
“Did you?” Ferus interrogates. “You shouldn’t have given me the bed.”
Anakin deflects the attention from himself. “All the nights you slept in a chair beside me, you were due a more comfortable rest, and I’m all right. . . I’m more worried about you.” Anakin sits beside him. Ferus doesn’t speak, only lowers his head. “What can I do?” Anakin asks softly.
“Nothing,” Ferus answers gloomily. “We need to get you in the bacta bath,” he reminds, but still won’t look up from his lap.
“There’s plenty of time for that. Why don’t you lie back down? Get some extra rest today,” Anakin offers.
“I’m fine. We need to get you taken care of.” Ferus stands and gestures to the bacta tube. “We need to stick with the routine.”
“Fuck the routine!” Anakin shouts. “What’s wrong, Ferus? What is it?”
Ferus is stunned, but his back is to Anakin, so it doesn’t show.
“It’s like. . . You’re mad at me,” Anakin admits troubled. And that had always been an unprecedented worry where Ferus Olin was concerned, but it was a top tier conundrum now.
“I’m not,” Ferus gripes in frustration.
“Then, talk to me,” Anakin suggests. “I know there’s many things you think you can’t yet talk to me about, but I know a thing or two about bad dreams.”
Ferus sighs, still refusing to face Anakin.
Anakin only waits a moment, and when Ferus doesn’t respond, he opts to drive the conversation he hopes to have. Reluctantly, he probes, “Who’s. . . who’s Roan?”
“DON’T say his name!” Ferus snaps. He doesn’t want his beloved husband’s name on Vader’s lips! He draws in a breath to regain control.
Anakin is large-eyed, heart pounding. “Sorry,” he tells Ferus hoarsely.
Ferus deflates, and turns slightly. “No, I’m sorry,” he gets out feebly. It isn’t Anakin’s fault, and he won’t understand the hostility. Ferus isn’t being fair to him. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not even mad; I’m just. . .”
“You’re upset. You’re hurting,” Anakin finishes. “I don’t like to see you this way; and with all you’ve done to help me. . . I’d like to help you.”
“You can’t,” Ferus chokes out.
“Maybe I can, if you let me try. . . Please.”
The prettiness of the please captures Ferus like honey captures bees. Maybe it’s time he start telling Anakin at least some of the truth. He moves to sit back down, but remains turned away. He takes a shaky breath. “Roan. . .” He swallows hard, having struggled to say the name. “. . .is someone very dear to me. Someone I lost.”
“I’m sorry,” Anakin quickly and remorsefully returns. “Was he. . . ? Someone you met since the fall of the Jedi?”
“Someone I met after I left the Jedi.”
“Left??” Anakin involuntarily squeaks.
“Yes, Anakin. Left,” Ferus confirms a tad irritably.
“When?” Anakin questions timidly.
“When I was nineteen.”
“Nineteen?? But that was. . . That was before the war— before, everything! You left?? Why?” Anakin doesn’t intend to sound so judgmental, but he is shocked to know that when the Jedi had faced their biggest qualms, Ferus hadn’t been there.
“I still fought in the war,” Ferus defends. “I just wasn’t part of the Order. I wasn’t a Jedi.”
“If you were nineteen, then I. . .”
Ferus knows Anakin has connected the dots. “It wasn’t long after the last mission you remember. I left, and I never became a Knight. It’s a long story,” Ferus adds intently.
And Anakin has heard those words before, and he knows what they mean; he won’t be getting any additional information on this subject, at least not right now. His already high tally of questions quadruples, but that’s okay, because Anakin hadn’t meant to take the focus from the more pressing matter – the nightmare. “So, you left the Order at nineteen, and that’s when you met Roan. . . the person you were close to.”
And there’s no point in hiding it now. “The person I married,” Ferus corrects. “He was my husband.”
Anakin’s mouth drops open. He sputters over the words that don’t come out. Ferus had not only left the Order, but had gotten married?? What had changed so drastically in such a short period of time?? This did not sound like the Ferus he remembered. . . but maybe it did sound like the Ferus he knows now. “And you were dreaming about him – about losing him,” Anakin assumes sorrowfully.
“Yes.”
“Ferus, I am so sorry. I had no idea.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“What happened to him?”
“The Empire happened to him,” Ferus responds more harshly than he means to. “And I really don’t want to discuss the details further.” He hates how cold he sounds. He huffs. “Look, I don’t mean to be— I’m sorry. But now you know, and I don’t want to say any more about it, okay? It’s. . . It’s. . .”
“It’s still fresh,” Anakin concludes.
Ferus exhales. “Yes. It happened just before I found you.”
Anakin feels a pang within. How awful to endure the pain of a deceased loved-one – a spouse. And then to be immediately thrown into this burden of a mission – stuck with the cripple who can’t even take care of himself. Had Roan originally been part of the mission?? Anakin suddenly wonders if he bears responsibly for his death. Had Roan somehow lost his life in aiding Ferus in his search and rescue? Here’s a question Anakin isn’t sure he wants an answer to; he didn’t want that sort of blood on his hands. His mind was already a too-busy place. “I’m sorry,” Anakin tells him again, because he doesn’t know what else to say. “I’m really sorry, Ferus. I wish I could. . . I’m sorry.”
The pity. Ferus hears it in Anakin’s voice – the same pity he’d gotten from his friends. He doesn’t want pity. He can’t handle pity. Pity means this is reality – it’s an acknowledgement that Roan is really gone. His face falls in his hands and tears escape his eyes. He feels Anakin’s hand on his shoulder.
Ferus doesn’t want what he knows is coming. . . Worse than the pity itself, is the sympathy hug. . .
Each time Anakin has broken down in the last several days, Ferus had been there to literally dry his tears. Anakin wants to be there for Ferus the way he’s been there for him. He scoots closer, rotates towards him, then awkwardly links an arm around his hunched form, inadvertently bringing Ferus to turn into him as well.
And though Ferus hadn’t wanted this hug, he finds himself transferring his concealed face from his palms to Anakin’s chest. He does not properly return the embrace, but balls up in Anakin’s hold.
Interestingly, Ferus cries, but the dam does not feel in danger of a breech—not in the way it has in the past when others have unsuccessfully sought to comfort him. Ferus can only ever remember receiving a hug this powerful and purposeful from one other person: his Roan.
When his husband would kiss the side of his nose, his strong arms cradling him close, Ferus had never felt more at peace. And now, yes, he cries, but he feels that same peace that comes from the kind of comfort that does not amplify the hurt, but truly curbs it.
Anakin feels Ferus relax in his hold. His already-mild weeping has nearly silenced while Anakin’s prosthetic fingers glide along his back more easily and effortlessly than they ever have. He remains quiet, because he knows there is nothing he can say. He won’t tell Ferus everything is all right, or that he’ll be okay, because maybe he won’t be, but his own personal vow is made that he’ll be there for him regardless.
Feeling caught up in the moment, and uncharacteristically confident in his mechno digits, Anakin slides his fingers up through Ferus’ silky hair. . . and almost immediately, an inhuman joint snags several strands.
At the shock of what he’s done, Anakin yanks his hand away. . . and yanks the tangled hairs straight out of Ferus’ head.
Anakin gasps loudly as Ferus springs upright, finally making eye contact with him for the first time since their initial morning greeting.
Anakin is still jaw-dropped, holding the offending hand up in surrender with the murdered strands still pinched between his finger. “Force! I’m so sorry!”
To both Ferus’ and Anakin’s surprise, Ferus laughs.
Anakin lets out the breath he’d drawn in and laughs with him. . . which quickly shifts to a coughing fit.
Now, Ferus retreats to protective mode, forgetting his own woes. “Okay?” He takes Anakin’s raised hand in his own. He sees Anakin nod as his breathing evens out and subtle laughter takes its place.
Ferus now works to unwind his hairs from the intricate joint.
“I’m sorry,” Anakin tells him again.
“I’ll live,” Ferus responds half humorously.
“I’m sorry about more than the hair.”
“Thanks. I’m fine.” Ferus sniffles away the last of his tears, wiping his face with his sleeve.
“May I make a suggestion?”
“Can’t hurt. . . Or maybe it can.” Ferus rubs his head.
Anakin guiltily giggles. “I was just going to suggest you take first turn in the bacta bath this morning.”
Ferus looks at Anakin confused.
“I know you aren’t injured, but it’s really very relaxing. Ever since I awoke in this new life, I can’t seem to quiet my mind. I sleep a lot, but never for long periods of time, and I dream, too, but in the tank – I feel my brain sort of shuts off. I just thought it might be what you need if you’ve got a lot on your mind. And now that I know a little more about what’s going on. . . I just really think it’ll help. I want you to feel better.”
“I appreciate that. Maybe I’ll give it a try.” It's not a bad idea - a way to forget his troubles for a short while. . . It’s a very thoughtful thing to offer. “You’ll be okay by yourself for a bit?”
“Yeah. I know you’re not hungry, but I am; I’m gonna eat!”
Ferus snorts. “Okay. Just, um. . . Don’t go anywhere,” he warns.
“Where would I go?” Anakin chortles. “Play in the snow? I don’t think so; I’m not a fan of the cold.”
“No, I just mean. . . I’ll just do fifteen minutes,” Ferus decides.
“You need more than that; I’ll be okay, Ferus. And I’ll stay right here by the tank – that’s what you meant by don’t go anywhere. I got it. I know you’re worried I’ll choke, or fall, or any of the other things toddlers do left unattended.”
Ferus can’t help but smile. “I know you’re not a toddler.” His tone is wry.
“Right. They’re much cuter,” Anakin smirks.
Ferus takes in a healing breath, Anakin’s jokes doing wonders for his mood.
Anakin gives him a knowing look, then moves to the kitchen for food.
And Ferus is left feeling incomplete, because he realizes he’d been expecting one more hug. . . After having been avoiding Anakin’s closeness and touch since yesterday, he finds he’d wanted one more hug – a mighty hug that could’ve melted the snow outside. . . The sort of hug that, in the past, only Roan could provide.
Notes:
Obi-Wan. . . is coming. . .
I'd love to know your thoughts ❤️ Thanks for reading 🥰
Chapter 12
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It has been about twelve hours since Ferus’ late-night call. Obi-Wan has not slept, has not eaten. . . and he’s watched the footage of Anakin roughly. . . fifty? Sixty times? And these would be low-end estimates.
He’s watched it in slow motion, frame by frame. He’s run it back to hear Anakin’s laugh. He’s paused it to see his smile. He’s sped it up to get to the part with the hug. . .
That hug.
Perhaps the other evidence wasn’t all that compelling, but that hug. . . Obi-Wan is certain; his sweet, affectionate Padawan lives. But is Vader really dead?
Obi-Wan cannot yet reach out to Ferus – not so soon, but he does not sit idle. Hypocritically, he does not wait. He plans to be on the next available transport to. . . anywhere. It is no matter if it does not go to Toloran; Obi-Wan will hijack the craft if he must. Because he wants Anakin, wants him in his arms, and to never let him go again – never leave him again. . . and if Anakin’s last memories are of those when he was seventeen, then he is not even aware that Obi-Wan had left him in the first place.
But how much does Anakin know? How much does Ferus know?
Anakin’s devastating wounds, inflicted by Obi-Wan himself, had left him struggling to simply hold a hairbrush. Wouldn’t Anakin have questioned how he sustained these injuries? Wouldn’t Ferus have? And what have they determined? What do they suspect? Has Ferus told Anakin of his dark descent? How did Anakin lose his memory? Will those memories return? And is it worth the risk to bring him back to Tatooine if there is a possibility?
Because from the moment Obi-Wan realized Anakin could return to him, he’d envisioned him with him on Tatooine – to live with him on his home planet. . . where his son is. . . where his mother is not. . .
And Obi-Wan can’t imagine Anakin having to once again go through the grief of losing his mother; it was horrific enough the first time.
There is a consolation. Anakin will now have Luke. . . but in what way?
“He can’t have Luke,” Beru informs firmly.
Obi-Wan will soon depart, but could not leave without first seeing Anakin’s son, and he’d thought it best to inform the Lars of the situation. “That’s not what I’m getting at here,” Obi-Wan placates. “I don’t wish to bring Anakin here to take Luke from you, but I do plan to bring him home, and he’ll need to know what’s become of his mother, and that will lead him here.”
“And then what?” Owen asks coldly. “You’ll tell him he has a son, but he can’t have him?”
“I. . . I wasn’t planning on revealing that Luke was his.”
“Of course,” Owen retorts sarcastically. “More secrets. More lies. So, you’ll introduce him to Luke Skywalker and expect him not to piece it together?”
“Well, I was thinking. . . Your original choice of Luke Lars. . .”
Owen throws up his hands in exasperation. “YOU were the one that insisted he carry on the Skywalker name! And we did that for you, with the promise that you would let us raise him without interference.”
“You did it for Shmi, too,” Obi-Wan defends bitterly. “She was like a mother to you, and Anakin is part of that family – you can have more family.”
“Maybe we don’t want more family. Maybe we don’t need more ex-Jedi here to complicate our lives.”
“Owen,” Beru starts gently. “Maybe it’s Anakin who will need family. . .”
“He will,” Obi-Wan intercedes. “I know Anakin, and once he learns of your connection to his mother, I know he will want you all in his life. If Shmi was once a mother to you, then, to Anakin, you will be his brother. Your wife is correct – he will need family. He’s been through so much. Please.”
Owen sighs. “So, we’re no longer Aunt and Uncle, then? We’re Mom and Dad?” he gripes. “Thank the Force Luke isn’t old enough to be aware of all these changes,” he hisses in frustration.
“I agree. And I’m sorry to keep turning your lives upside down, but I’m not sorry Anakin is alive.” Obi-Wan is startled when Beru is suddenly in his arms, but he hugs Luke’s mom back with love and tenderness.
“I’m happy to hear he’s still with us,” Beru tells Obi-Wan warmly. “It really will be nice to have another piece of Shmi back in our lives.”
“Thank you, my dear.” The pair look at Owen hopefully.
Owen lets out a breath, annoyance still prevalent, but acceptance underlying. “When do you leave? When will you return with him?”
*
It is Ferus and Anakin’s third morning together on their own. They’ve easily settled into a new routine, the post nightmare awkwardness behind them upon Ferus having a reset in the bacta bath.
Ferus continues assisting Anakin with his morning bacta baths, and with his AM and PM salve applications. . . massage always included. They continue to work on the sensory mechanisms of Anakin’s prosthetics. The current concentration is hands and fingers, but to enhance the performance of his legs, Ferus escorts Anakin for laps around the ship twice daily – before lunch and after dinner.
Notoriously ambitious, and sometimes called impatient, it is on their very first walk that Anakin suggests he attempt a trip up and down the flight of stairs to the cargo area of the ship. Ferus, of course, denies him. He isn’t even sure about trying the exit ramp again, much less the stairs. It is quite literally a slippery slope.
When the two aren’t working towards recovery, Anakin is often sleeping; though, never by choice. Sometimes Ferus forces him to lie down. Other times, Anakin nods off without meaning to. . . and it is not unusual that Ferus’ shoulder is the initial pillow.
Anakin hasn’t eased up on trailing Ferus’ steps, or in sitting or standing right beside him. In fact, Anakin now makes a point to have their shoulders brush or knees touch. Ferus tells himself this is an empathetic reaction to the disclosure of his deceased husband, but more likely, it is a ripple effect of having allowed himself to get too physically close to Anakin when accepting such an intimate form of comfort from him.
Ferus feels idiotic for letting his vulnerability show; it had changed something between them. That hug had ignited a spark – magnetized a pull for greater dependency. And Ferus knows Anakin is dependent on him for now, but he doesn’t want to be dependent on Anakin in return.
But for Anakin’s part, he wants Ferus to be dependent on him. He wants him to need him as much as he needs Ferus. In their time together as Padawans, it seemed to Anakin that Ferus never required assistance – from anyone. Always well put together, he appeared immune to the types of struggles that hindered Anakin most. . . intense feelings of love, anger, fear. . . emotional attachment. . .
Anakin had already determined that he very much liked this new kind of Ferus he had been reintroduced to, but to learn that he’d held a romantic relationship has only made Anakin’s fondness for him grow. It has made his intrigue grow. . . his attraction. . . and to hear it from Ferus’ own lips that he regarded him as ‘beautiful’. . .
But Anakin understands that Ferus is grieving; he’s been careful not to bring up Roan again – Ferus had blatantly told him he didn’t want to discuss him any further. So, Anakin hasn’t asked about Roan or Ferus' past at all, including his mysterious departure from the Order. And Ferus remains coy about anything pertaining to Anakin’s lost seven years. Most of Anakin’s questions are met with:
“It’s a long story.”
or
“It might be too upsetting to talk about.”
Anakin wants to know more, but he’s willing to wait if it means getting to wait with Ferus. . . but when it comes to Obi-Wan, that willingness is wearing thin.
Anakin and Ferus are set to have a holocall with Jenna when she returns from her trip to Alsakan, and she and Ferus will make the determination if Anakin’s hyperspace restriction sentence is up, and once it is, Anakin hopes Ferus will take him straight to Obi-Wan.
What Anakin doesn’t know, is that Ferus has just heard from Obi-Wan. He’d been stunned to receive a midnight message that Obi-Wan was already on-world. They’d arranged for a meeting at the Ice Dragon Ski Resort to have a more in-depth, in-person discussion.
Ferus is currently orchestrating his next deceptive script. He despises himself a little more each time he lies to Anakin, but it’s almost become second nature now. The pair have just had breakfast, and Ferus is watching as Anakin piddles with the sensors on his left hand.
“I’m going to go out today,” Ferus begins simply.
“To tourist town?”
“Yep. I think we’ll be ready to travel soon, and I want to make sure we have all the staples we’ll need.”
Anakin eyes him. By now he has accepted his sheltered fate. He’s twenty-four years old, he’s told, but it seems he has even less freedom than he did at seventeen. “You’re not going to let me go with you, are you?”
“The swoop ride will be much too cold for you – you know that. The frigid air hitting your new lungs at that speed is not going to work out well.”
“You’d rather leave me here all by myself?” Anakin tries a bit of reverse psychology. “What if I drown in the bath?”
Ferus purses his lips. “Well, you won’t be taking a bath while I’m gone.”
Anakin works to conceal a smile. “But what if I get hungry, and choke to death on tezirett seeds?”
“Anakin.”
“Ferus,” Anakin grins.
Ferus laughs. “Do you really want to play this game? You know you can’t come.”
“I know, so I’d like to entertain myself with this game.”
Ferus snorts. “Okay. Proceed.”
“What if pirates come and capture me, and force me to ride their swoop out in the cold?”
Ferus cackles. “Point taken. You still can’t come. It’s safer to risk the pirates.”
“You know I once built a protocol droid that could tell me the odds of a scenario like that.”
“I’m sure it would tell you the odds are very slim of pirates coming to get you.” Ferus smiles, but internally shudders knowing there’s a greater chance of the Empire coming to get Anakin. He’s continued his daily, discreet search for HoloNet news on Vader, and there haven’t been any reports of him being unaccounted for, but a part of Ferus does want to bundle Anakin up and put him on the swoop with him. . . But this trip isn’t just for supplies. . .
“So, you’re going to take that chance. . . Okay, then. Now I see how valuable I am to you,” Anakin feigns offense.
Ferus chidingly tilts his head. “I won’t be gone long. And you are very valuable to me, and to prove it. . . What are your special requests? I’ll pick up anything you want.”
Anakin’s eyes light up. “Banja cakes!”
Ferus is charmed. “Done. Anything else?”
“An enclosed speeder, so I can go with you next time?”
“That’s a little out of my price range, unfortunately.”
“How about the parts to build one? Or just parts for anything. Like, literally anything. I need something to do.”
“Am I boring you that much?”
“No,” Anakin defends. “You’re much more interesting that you used to be.”
“Why does that feel like an insult?”
“It’s a compliment, actually.”
Ferus studies Anakin fondly.
“You’re different, but good different. I don’t want to say I didn’t like you before, but. . . I didn’t like you before.”
Ferus roars in laughter. “That’s mean!”
“Oh, come on, you didn’t like me either.”
“That’s not true!”
“Yes, it is. Don’t lie.”
And if only Ferus could heed that request. “Fine,” he smirks playfully. “You were a brat.”
“A brat?!” Anakin gasps and starts coughing violently.
Ferus’ face falls; he immediately moves in Anakin’s space, a hand on his shoulder in concern.
“I’m all right,” Anakin promises as he inhales deeply.
“That’s a wrap on comedy hour,” Ferus notes in finality as he squeezes the back of Anakin’s neck and steps away.
“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt so much like it did at first.”
“Well, that’s good, but we still don’t want those lungs overworked; it’s not just the coughing – it’s how you can’t catch your breath.”
“So, I’m not supposed to laugh, or slouch, or go out in the cold. . . What else? You know, there’s a lot about you that’s different, but you still get your kicks on bossing me around.”
“I never— I do not boss you around!” Ferus’ mouth drops open in shock, but he smiles, because he knows Anakin is mostly teasing. “I just want to make sure you’re safe,” he reasons. “I want you to get better.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. I wasn’t exactly complaining. Just stating the obvious.”
“It won’t always be this way.”
“I wouldn’t mind if it was,” Anakin tells Ferus with intent. He sees Ferus do an uncomfortable swallow and avert his eyes, so he slightly shifts the topic, “When are you leaving?”
“Soon. Banja cakes? That’s all you want?”
“I’m not picky, and I trust you.”
Ferus flinches. Sure, trust the man who’s done nothing but lie to you. . .
“Can I use your data pad while you’re gone?” Anakin abruptly but casually asks.
“NO!” Ferus denies him a bit too suspiciously. “Why?” He takes his voice down a decibel.
“Because I’ll be bored. Lonely. I need something to do until you come back with the parts.”
Ferus chuckles. “I never said I was picking up parts.”
“Okay,” Anakin sings. “I’ll find something to do.”
“Do NOT tear the ship apart,” Ferus warns comically with a raised brow.
“I will only enhance its performance,” Anakin beams. “I really can't use the data pad? I actually wanted to research the schematics of this ship – NOT to tear it apart. Promise.”
“I. . . need it. . . with me. . . while I’m gone.”
“You have your comm device. Why would you need the data pad?”
“Anakin,” Ferus huffs.
“Oh,” Anakin enunciates the word. “Translation: You're worried I'll instead research the galaxy's recent history. You want to be here to supervise me in case my lungs explode over some upsetting article.”
Yep. That was it, exactly. But Ferus stays silent.
“I wasn’t gonna snoop; I really just wanted to do some research on the ship's concussion missile launchers.”
“We’ll research together, later. Promise. Why don’t you rest while I’m gone? Take a nap; we’ll start therapy when I get back, and maybe we can try the stairs if you’re good and energized.”
“You say I’m not a toddler, but you like to bribe me like one.”
Ferus bites his bottom lip and goes quiet again.
“Go,” Anakin blows out a defeated breath. “I’ll be fine.”
It pains Ferus any time Anakin’s chipper spirit turns the least bit gloomy. “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he vows.
“Don’t rush,” Anakin says a little more lively. “I want you to be safe, too, you know. . . Be careful.”
And Anakin doesn’t need any banja cakes. . . He’s already sweet enough.
*
With great hustle, Ferus has gotten the tourist town shopping done first, wanting to get that out of the way with not knowing what to expect from Obi-Wan. One thing for sure, Ferus is looking forward to seeing him.
It had hardly been a month since they’d said goodbye, but so much had happened – so much had changed since then. And Obi-Wan was someone who could understand. He was someone who knew many of the secrets Ferus was keeping from Anakin. It would be a relief to be able to have a conversation, that’s not potentially tapped, without having to monitor what he says. . . even if that conversation might be a challenging one.
Obi-Wan is covertly – and anxiously, waiting in the lobby of the Ice Dragon. It is a busy, bustling resort, but it is easy to fade into the background; he sits at a table against a window, his back to the indoor tourists as he observes the outdoor ones come and go. Most of them are in bright colored snow suits, but then, Obi-Wan sees a dark tan trench amongst the herd.
Ferus’ head is down, but Obi-Wan would never not recognize that enchanting silver streak, gleaming in the sunlight amongst the thick, chestnut locks. Obi-Wan smiles in spite of himself, and hops from his seat to meet Ferus outside.
Head covered in the hood of his traveling cloak, Obi-Wan rushes to circle around the crowd so that he may come up behind Ferus and walk beside him.
“There’s a place in the back of the resort where we can speak privately.”
Ferus’ steps do not falter. He’d sensed Obi-Wan’s presence. He glances out of the corner of his eye, but Obi-Wan’s face is shielded. Their pace remains brisk as he follows the Jedi Master to the more secluded spot.
They trek across the border of the hotel, moving past the outdoor activities and lounge area, and carefully down a snowy slope into a shadowed, vacant region south of the ski lifts, but not part of the direct path to get to them.
Ferus has parked the swoop and carries a pack with the supplies he’d purchased. He places it down in the snow and stands face to face with Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan keeps his face hidden. Obi-Wan stands frozen like the ice over the resort’s skating pond. Ferus bends his neck to peer under the hood of the unmoving man’s robe. He can see the fog of Obi-Wan’s shaky breath coming out from the folds of fabric.
Ferus steps into his space and gently draws back the hood. Tear-stricken, gray-blue eyes meet his own. . . those same sad eyes Ferus had seen on the hologram a few nights prior. An emotional frown is framed by the ginger beard. Now, the lip quivers.
“It is Anakin,” Obi-Wan chokes out.
Ferus smiles softly. “Yes, it is.”
“It’s really him.”
Ferus isn’t sure if this is a confirmation or a validation, but he nods.
“I feel like a fool,” Obi-Wan blubbers.
“Why?” Ferus coos. “You’re not a fool.” He reaches a hand where Obi-Wan’s neck meets his shoulder.
“I want him. I dropped everything and ran over here, because I want him so much. And though I should, I don’t even care what he’s done; I just want to see him again, and to have my Anakin back, and it’s selfish. . . and foolish. . . to know that I’m going to just dismiss it all.”
“Well, if you’re a fool, I’m a fool, too.” Ferus’ tone is inviting. His hand slides over onto Obi-Wan’s back to draw him in. He hears him weeping as they hold each other close.
“How is he?” Obi-Wan whimpers in Ferus’ neck.
“He’s good,” Ferus assures. “He’s in very good spirits, all things considered. He seems to have found peace just living in the moment.”
“Does he want to see me?” Obi-Wan asks pitifully.
“Well, yeah,” Ferus chuckles as they separate. “Of course he wants to see you; it’s all he talks about – it's pretty much his only goal, other than recovery.”
The ‘recovery.’ And the most terrifying aspect of this meeting will be addressed sooner than planned. “His injuries. . .” Obi-Wan starts.
“They were very severe,” Ferus informs in regret. “He was burned, badly. The when and where, I don’t know. He was breathing on a respirator – it was in that suit. He’s. . . He’s lost all four limbs.” Ferus waits to let Obi-Wan absorb this, but doesn’t get the anticipated reaction, so he continues. . .
“The whole thing was very. . . I was in the med center on Coruscant, looking for leads on. . . well, him, or who he used to be, and he was there – Vader was there. He’d apparently ordered Jenna Zan Arbor to aid him in erasing certain parts of his memory; there was something he wanted to forget. Turns out, Zan Arbor was planning to betray him, but she didn’t know he was Anakin,” Ferus unloads.
“Jenna had planned to do a complete mind wipe, which would’ve basically left him a prime candidate for a psych ward – a mental vegetable. When she realized who he was, she paused the wipe, and I happened to be there. . . and something told me we needed to help him. I wanted to help him.”
Ferus knows he’s rambling, but Obi-Wan isn’t trying to fill the gaps. He attempts to at least slow his speech, “We came here to hide, then, we made a medical plan. Jenna and her doctor colleague performed a successful replacement surgery about a week ago; Anakin now breathes through artificial lungs.”
And those words prompt the strong reaction Ferus had been expecting; Obi-Wan physically crumbles, and Ferus wraps him in an embrace once more. “He’s okay. He’s okay now,” he soothes. “He can breathe on his own without the respirator – he’s much better.”
Obi-Wan still clings to Ferus. “He gets better every day,” Ferus reinforces. “He’s got new prosthetics, too, and his wounds are healing well. Jenna is gone now, but she left us with a small bacta tube and a miracle ointment that has really lessened his scarring since I’ve been with him.”
Obi-Wan pulls away and wipes at his eyes.
“He's going to be all right, Obi-Wan. I promise.”
Obi-Wan finally meets Ferus’ gaze. “His memories. . . they won’t return?”
“No. Jenna says it’s not possible.”
It is a sad notion for Anakin, but a relief to Obi-Wan. “And he doesn’t know what he was before? You haven’t told him about Vader?”
“I haven’t. I didn’t know how. . . He is better, but he’s still so fragile, and. . .” Ferus guiltily trails off.
“No,” Obi-Wan sniffles. “You did the right thing. He doesn’t need to know right now.”
“He does know about the Empire. He knows the Jedi fell. He knows it was Palpatine, and that was the most upsetting thing for him it seemed. He still has his moments; he gets emotional sometimes – says he wishes he could go home and you’d be there. . . I’ve told him so little, and it’s still so much.”
“You’ve taken such good care of him,” Obi-Wan notes with a strained voice. “And after everything. . . Does he know about. . . He doesn’t know about Roan,” Obi-Wan clarifies.
Ferus winces at the name. “He knows about him. He knows I was married; I only recently told him. He knows we met after I left the Order, but he doesn’t know the details of my departure. . . and no. . . he doesn’t know how R—he doesn’t know how he died.”
“I’ve made this all about me,” Obi-Wan laments. “But I want to tell you again, I’m so sorry for your loss. I’ve thought of you every day.”
Ferus lowers his head and nods.
“I’m sorry for what’s happened. I’m sorry for what Anakin became – for what he’s done.”
Ferus refuses to let his emotions get the better of him. “Don’t. It’s fine.”
Obi-Wan can see that it’s not fine. He can’t imagine what it’s like for Ferus to face Anakin each day. “I’m so sorry, my darling,” Obi-Wan whispers another apology as he moves to take Ferus in his arms.
Ferus squeezes his eyes shut. Here is another hug that he just can’t return, but he lets Obi-Wan hold him the way he’d allowed Anakin to.
“You are such an incredible person. All you’ve done – with the Jedi, with the war, the rebellion, with Anakin. . . Roan must’ve felt the luckiest being in the galaxy to have won the heart of a man like you.”
The bastard. Ferus involuntarily sobs. Why did he have to say his name? He wrestles out of Obi-Wan’s embrace and turns away. “I can’t. . . Just don’t, okay? I’m sorry. I just. . . can’t.”
“I understand.” And Obi-Wan truly does, except that he will soon be reunited with his beloved, unlike Ferus.
Ferus ignores his burning sinuses and redirects the conversation, “So, I know you came all this way, but I need to ask you to wait.”
Obi-Wan looks at Ferus in question.
“We’re staying way up in the mountains, on the far side of the planet. He can’t come down here, because I only have the swoop, and it’ll be too cold of a ride. So, you’ll have to come up to us, but. . . Can you wait until morning?”
“I suppose. . .” Obi-Wan is still unsure of the reasoning.
“I need time to tell him you’re coming. It would be nice to surprise him, but it’s no good if he gets worked up. He sometimes has a hard time controlling his breathing if he gets too emotional or too excited, and it’s not worth the risk.”
“Oh. . . All right.”
“I’ll tell him when I get back – that you’re coming, and then he’ll have time get over the initial excitement before he sees you.”
“Okay,” Obi-Wan breathes in. He does not want to wait, but he understands. He surely doesn’t want to risk Anakin’s health more than he already has.
“I’m sorry. It was too much to explain over the comm in trying to keep the messages brief.”
“It’s all right. I can wait – it’s only a few more hours.”
“Yes, and I’ll pay for a place for you to stay down here tonight.”
“Normally, I’d stubbornly refuse. . . but under these circumstances. . . Well, I’m not acclimated to these low temperatures after more than a year on a desert planet.”
Ferus laughs. “I missed you."
“I missed you, too, darling.”
“I’ll meet you back here in the morning and take you up. . . How long do you plan to stay with us? I should probably warn that my ship isn’t very big; it’ll be. . . cramped.”
“I can do cramped,” Obi-Wan chuckles. “That’s fine, and I’ll stay until Anakin is ready to go.”
Ready to go? “Well, he hasn’t been given clearance to hyperspace travel yet, but I think we could potentially depart by the end of the week. . . Where did. . . What do you plan to. . . ?”
“I want to take him home with me,” Obi-Wan blurts.
And Ferus’ heart nearly stops. TAKE Anakin? He doesn’t know why the phrasing bothers him; this was inevitable, wasn’t it? He’d rescue Anakin and return him to his Master. “Okay,” Ferus replies slowly. “That’s. . . that’s good. He’ll. . . He’ll be really happy.” And that, of course, makes Ferus happy.
“Thank you.” Obi-Wan touches Ferus’ face. “Thank you so much for everything.”
“It was no trouble.” And in all the lies he's told, Ferus is surprised at just how true that is.
*
Ferus makes the ride back to the mountaintops just in time for a late lunch. But Anakin has no interest in eating once Ferus relays the news.
“When did you hear from him?!” Anakin squeals. “Tomorrow morning?!?! He’s coming tomorrow morning!??!”
Ferus laughs, suddenly feeling like he’s in the company of a young child. “Yes, tomorrow morning. I know you’re excited, but I need you to calm down a bit, okay?”
“Okay, okay. . . What else did he say?! What was he doing!? Where was he going?!!”
Ferus chuckles, but his worry is imminent. “Inside voice?” he tries the toddler tactic.
Anakin puts a fist over his mouth. “I’m sorry. . . but you spoke to him? Heard his voice? It wasn’t just a message?”
Ferus grins. “Yes, I heard the famous Coruscanti accent,” he playfully boasts.
Anakin cackles. “Oh, I can’t WAIT until I do!” His eyes float to the ceiling and his smile is unwavering, until he remembers, “Did you tell him about. . . ? Did he mention the accident? Did he say if he knew about it?”
“I told him about it – gave him the short version of what I knew.”
“So, like I thought, he didn’t know,” Anakin assumes.
Did he?? Ferus is realizing that wasn’t directly addressed. He replays the conversation in his mind. . . He’d told Obi-Wan upfront that he didn’t know what had happened to Anakin, so it made sense as to why Obi-Wan wouldn’t ask. But what if Ferus had begun with the question turned on Obi-Wan? How would the conversation have changed? “He didn’t really give me any indication. But he seemed saddened to hear of what you’d been through, so I don’t think he knew.”
“Do you know when’s the last time we saw each other? Did he mention that?”
Ferus now knows there is a lot more that he and Obi-Wan need to discuss. His head is beginning to hurt. “He didn’t say, but I think it’s been a while.”
“Well, I’ll soon get to ask him myself,” Anakin proudly professes. “I guess he hadn’t told you much about what was going on with me, because he wanted to make sure we were both safe – it could’ve compromised your mission to find me.”
The headache persists, and now Ferus’ heart starts to race. He turns away and busies himself with the packaging for the lunch he’d been trying to prepare. And suddenly, Anakin’s arms come around him from behind, and his chin comes to rest over his shoulder.
“Ferus, thank you,” Anakin tells him forcefully and tenderly.
Ferus gives the mechanical hand covering his chest an uneasy double pat. “You’re welcome.”
Ferus doesn’t care for the way that ‘thank you’ sounded – so final – as if his job is done. Mission complete. . . But it is, isn’t it? And that’s. . . fine.
It’s fine.
Anakin will be fine. . . fine without him. . .
Notes:
Chapter theme: This is fine (kitchen on fire).
Many Star Wars fans have expressed their confusion over why Luke was known as Luke Skywalker when his identity was mostly meant to be kept secret. Well, now you have your answer: Because of Obi-Wan 😂 I made that up, but that makes sense though, right? I'm sure Obi-Wan was relatively unconcerned knowing he'd be right there to protect Anakin's son 💗
Thank you for reading! This is a chapter I really like, and I hope you like it, too. I am also partial to the next one 💙💙💙
Chapter 13
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
In the evening, Ferus has a tough time getting Anakin to settle for the night after such groundbreaking news. The following morning, he is like a youngling on Life Day – up at oh-five-hundred, waking Ferus and questioning how soon it’ll be before he’ll depart to collect Obi-Wan.
Ferus convinces him to eat, despite his jitters, and to take his bacta bath early. Roughly ninety minutes later, he once again reluctantly leaves Anakin, descending from the mountaintops to the town below.
At the Ice Dragon, Obi-Wan is up before the sun as well, sharing in his Padawan’s insomnia. He’d put the comfortable bed Ferus had graciously reserved for him to good use; he’d allowed his body a proper rest, but there was no subduing his overactive mind.
Ever since he’d learned Anakin was alive, he’d been nonstop envisioning their reunion. He imagines the smile Anakin will have for him. He conjures fictitious audio of, ‘Master’ affectionately rolling off his tongue. He fantasizes about receiving his own wonderous hug like the one he’d given Trever in the holorecording, but their own embrace will be much more tender and lasting. . . and quite possibly sealed with a kiss.
Anakin won’t remember how complicated their relationship had become towards the end of the war. Though they were no longer Master and Padawan by that point, they had somehow been even more dependent upon one another. . . neither of them willing to admit such.
Their relationship could not exactly be classified as romantic; it was contingent on the circumstances surrounding the war. As a general, Anakin was known to spread himself too thin, and whenever heedful of any self-neglect, Obi-Wan would step in and be his boy’s Master and provider once again – making sure he was fed, clean, and getting enough rest. . .
And Anakin always responded positively to this sort of attention and care, reverting back to the sweet, demonstrative Padawan, who wanted to climb into his Master’s lap and cuddle him on his cot. . . and so he did, and Obi-Wan allowed this, and he allowed chaste smooches, before they became more passionate kisses, eventually leading to intimate fondling. . . and mutual pleasure below the belt.
Obi-Wan knew that Anakin was having those same needs met, and more, with Padmé. Theirs was a relationship that expressed their love both physically and verbally. And while Anakin had let it slip from time to time that he loved Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan was very careful never to return the phrase. . . which had come to be one of his biggest regrets in life.
How might things have changed had Obi-Wan told Anakin of the depths of his undying love for him? Though it remained unsaid, Obi-Wan knew Anakin loved him. . . and he’d assumed Anakin understood those feelings were reciprocated. Padmé had evidently been aware, as Obi-Wan had learned from her accusation when he’d last seen her before Mustafar – before she’d died giving birth to the twins.
Today, Obi-Wan won’t be able to make his confession of longtime love; with Anakin in the frame of mind of his seventeen-year-old self, he will only recall his Master’s lingering hand upon his shoulder, and the doting looks of adoration. Occasionally, Obi-Wan would reserve a special term of endearment, paired with a bordering-on-inappropriate compliment or praise. But even back then, even when Obi-Wan was fawning all over the perfection that was his glorious apprentice, he had never said those three impactful words, not in a platonic, familial way or otherwise.
But those words will be spoken before the rotation is up.
Ferus had said he’d likely arrive sometime between seven and eight hundred, and it is currently the top of the hour. Obi-Wan is waiting out in the cold this time, his minimalist luggage at the ready and slung over his shoulder. He had begun his wait under the overhang at the Ice Dragon entrance/exit, but every few minutes, he inches forward and has migrated from loitering on the parking grounds to the adjoining speeder lane to the resort. It is not the area where pickup had been discussed, but Obi-Wan knows Ferus will spot him.
And at twenty-five after, Ferus does.
Ferus’ lips aren’t as frozen as he’d thought, as they stretch into a smile when he sees Obi-Wan hitchhiking on the outskirts of the hotel. He slows the swoop, pulls off, and kills the engine.
“Good morning,” Ferus grins.
“Morning,” Obi-Wan replies with underlying embarrassment.
“Impatient as your Padawan, I see.”
Obi-Wan brightens. “Is he. . . ?”
“He’s thrilled,” Ferus confirms with a wealth of warmth. “He has not shut up – vibrating out of his skin.” He admires Obi-Wan’s bashful smile. “Come on.” He scooches forward on the seat to make room on the bike.
The two ex-Jedi make the lengthy ride back to the northern end of Toloran, and as the ship comes into camouflaged view, Ferus sees what he should not see. . . part of the ship. The ramp is lowered.
Anxiety fills Ferus, and he hits the throttle full speed. Either Anakin has plans to come down the ramp, or he already has – which could mean he has slipped and fallen and is potentially hurt, buried beneath the snow.
“THE RAMP!” Ferus calls over his shoulder to Obi-Wan.
“WHAT?” The loud hum of the engine makes it difficult to hear.
“HE LOWERED THE RAMP! HIS LEGS AREN’T STABLE ENOUGH TO COME DOWN!”
As the swoop gets within a reasonable distance, Obi-Wan - for the first time in a long while - relies on the Force, and leaps more than fifteen meters from his seat to the foot of the ramp.
His timing is impeccable; Anakin unsteadily, and unpredictably, skis the slope straight into his arms.
Obi-Wan clutches the trembling body, cradling the bald head beneath his chin. “Anakin,” he breathes.
“Master!” Anakin screeches. “Master,” he cries, gripping him without fear that he’ll break, because no one is stronger than his Master.
“I’ve got you,” Obi-Wan lulls. “My sweet, darling boy, I’ve got you.” In response, Anakin wails in his neck, and Obi-Wan can’t help but cry along with him. “It’s all right,” he assuages through tears. “It’s all right, my darling.”
Ferus has made it to them on the swoop, haphazardly abandoning it beside the ramp – he’ll secure it later. He rushes over to the pair. And how he wants to yell – to scream – to reprimand Anakin for the dangerous stunt he’s just pulled, but he won’t ruin his reunion with his Master. . . though, he can’t remain completely silent, “We need to get him in,” he alerts Obi-Wan as politely as possible, a hand on each of their backs. “He can’t get sick.”
“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan replies and moves to help Ferus in getting Anakin back inside.
Anakin is ferociously weeping as Obi-Wan and Ferus walk him to the dining bench and sit him down.
“Anakin, you have to calm down a bit, all right?” Ferus whips out a handkerchief and helps Anakin properly clutch it to wipe his face. “Take a breath,” he coaches, and Anakin does.
“I’m sorry! I thought I—”
“It’s okay,” Ferus absolves. “We’ll talk about it later. You’re safe; that’s what matters.”
Anakin nods and sniffles, fighting to see through the mass of tears that are burning his swollen eyes. “Master? Obi-Wan?” he calls tearfully.
“I’m right here, darling. I’m right here with you, and I’m never leaving you again.” Obi-Wan wraps his arms around him and pulls his head to his chest. Anakin’s form continues to quake in his hold.
“He-he shouldn’t be hunched over like that,” Ferus tries not to sound like a dictator.
Obi-Wan eyes him worriedly, mortified that simple steps and postures are problematic for his Padawan. He loosens his grip, and Anakin straightens.
“I’m sorry,” Ferus tells them both as he rises. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
“No,” Anakin croaks. “Stay.”
Ferus stands back uncomfortably, trying not to stare, as Obi-Wan tenderly takes Anakin’s face between his palms.
“I don’t know what happened,” Anakin blubbers in regards to his haggard appearance. “I don’t remember anything.”
Obi-Wan shushes him. “It’s all right,” he soothes. Anakin takes small, but still-panicked breaths; his shameful eyes meet his own. . .
Obi-Wan examines the changed face. It’s different, but Anakin is still. . . Anakin – his emotional Padawan who can somehow make tears look angelic, the effects of the burns bested by everlasting beauty.
And while Anakin may look different, Obi-Wan is mindful that he does as well. The last memories Anakin would have of him were of a much more youthful thirty-three-year-old. Obi-Wan is forty now, with many more wrinkles, and gray at his temples. The past year has been particularly unkind – stress of the body and of the mind. Self-consciousness creeps in as Anakin takes his turn to look over his reunion partner.
“Y-you cut your hair short,” Anakin snivels pitifully.
Obi-Wan smiles. Is that all he’d noticed? “I did. Is that okay?”
“Yeah. . . I— I like it.” The statement is a positive one, but Anakin’s mouth is still fixed in a pout.
Obi-Wan chuckles. “I like yours, too.”
Anakin groans and lets his head fall on his Master’s shoulder.
“Still my beautiful boy,” Obi-Wan sings as he massages Anakin’s nape.
Ferus feels his chest tighten; he knew Anakin had been worried over what Obi-Wan would think of his physical appearance. And now the old sentiment had fallen right back on his lips – ‘beautiful boy.’
As the stuffy and self-righteous Padawan, Ferus had harshly judged Obi-Wan and Anakin for the attachment they held to one another. In one of their more heated debates, he recalls telling Anakin that his Master was blinded by affection for him. Their closeness had bothered him – attachment had been against the rules, but now. . . Ferus is touched in witnessing this precious moment between them.
And although Anakin had asked him to stay, Ferus feels he is intruding, so he quietly slips away, leaving the famous, harmonized duo to themselves.
Anakin’s head immediately pops back up. “Where’d Ferus go?”
“I’m not sure.” Obi-Wan scans the perimeter of the room. “I’m confident he hasn’t gone far.” He wipes a few of Anakin’s fresh tears with his thumbs and smiles. He leans forward and kisses his brow. Longing, blue eyes now invite him to peck his cheek, then the other, then his forehead to complete the triangle.
And now Anakin smiles, and Obi-Wan’s heart soars. “I missed you so much,” he tells his apprentice shakily.
“I missed you, too.” From what Anakin can remember, it’s been less than a couple of weeks since he’s last seen Obi-Wan, but after all he’s been through, the seven years feels more fitting. “I don’t want to cry!” Anakin bawls in defeat. All he’s ever wanted is right here – Obi-Wan hugging him, kissing him, and letting himself be vulnerable with him, but Anakin finds he doesn’t want to be vulnerable in return.
“You can cry; it’s okay,” Obi-Wan assures. “Best if you do, then I won’t be the only one.” Both men let out congested chuckles.
A moment of silence passes. Like always, Anakin doesn’t know how to prioritize all his questions, but they don’t seem to matter much for the moment. “Obi-Wan?”
“Hmm?” Obi-Wan hums as he traces the lines of Anakin’s face.
“I love you.”
And naturally, his competitive boy would beat him to it, but Obi-Wan doesn’t hesitate, “I love you, too; I love you so much, sweetheart,” he chokes out emotionally, then once again kisses his forehead and takes him in his arms. “I’ve loved you always,” Obi-Wan reaffirms quietly, but forcefully into his ear. “And I always will. From here on out, I’m going to tell you as often as I can. . . I love you.”
Anakin sits back, his would-be brows knitted and pink lips poked out.
Obi-Wan is captivated. He once more frames the face of his beloved and presses a second set of kisses to his cheeks.
Anakin’s mouth goes in a thin line. “You never kissed me this much before,” he notes, trying to suppress his enthusiasm.
Obi-Wan chortles. “I know it – a grand mistake on my part.” He holds Anakin’s jaw.
Another winning smile bursts through. “Do I get to kiss you, too?”
“If you like; it’s only right.”
Wanting to mimic his Master’s gesture, Anakin raises a wary hand. . . then lowers it back down, but not before Obi-Wan gently takes it in his own.
“It’s probably cold,” Anakin mumbles. “And sometimes I press too hard. . .”
Obi-Wan places Anakin’s palm to his cheek. “Perfect temperature. Perfect pressure.” He momentarily turns his head to kiss the metal appendage.
Anakin moves to position his lips to the opposite side of his Master’s face. He lingers, then rolls to press their cheeks together. He sighs in contentment when Obi-Wan’s beard scratches against his sensitive flesh. “I can really feel you like this,” he explains wistfully, not moving away. “My hands don’t touch the same.”
Obi-Wan feels his heart sink at that. He remains quiet and lets the weight of his head rest against Anakin’s, dipping down to prevent him from having to strain his torso. He serenely closes his eyes as Anakin nuzzles upwards into his hair, hand still secured over the prosthetic at his cheek.
“I’ve wanted to be close to you like this for so long,” Anakin admits, still moving his lips along his Master’s face and hair.
“I’m never going to let you go,” Obi-Wan utters.
“Good,” Anakin stumbles over the word.
Anakin has kept himself closed off in the Force since Ferus’ original warning to do so, and in truth, it had been somewhat of a relief to symbolically separate himself from such an intense link to the galaxy. When it comes to Ferus, Anakin doesn’t exactly block the connection, but keeps it muted. He can still vaguely get a sense of Ferus’ feelings and mood, and knows, in the same way, Ferus is able to detect certain emotions from his as well.
Anakin knows his Master is taking the same precautions, but he keeps habitually accessing the pathway that once led to their Master and Padawan training bond. But in addition to Obi-Wan being masked himself, Anakin knows that bond would’ve been severed upon achieving his Knighthood.
Obi-Wan is startled to hear Anakin has begun sobbing. He delicately tears himself away to make eye contact. “What is it, dear heart?” he asks urgently. “Talk to me.” His hands are now upon Anakin’s shoulders. Panting is intermittent with his wretched cries. “We have to breathe, like Ferus said, remember?” he pacifies.
Anakin huffs as Obi-Wan dabs his face with the handkerchief.
“Tell me what’s on your mind. I can tell there’s something in particular that’s just saddened you.”
“If we still had our bond, you would know,” Anakin forces out abruptly and brokenly.
Obi-Wan frowns. He’s considered fully tapping into the Force several times this morning; it’s a way to be even closer to Anakin, but they have to be careful.
“When I woke up – like this,” Anakin gestures to himself between sniffles. “I was in so much pain, but the very worst part about it was that I couldn’t feel you; I didn’t know where you were, and I was so scared you might be hurt, too. . . or dead,” Anakin weeps. “And now that you’re here, I just want to. . . I can’t even remember being Knighted, so it’s like, I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” he unloads, then crumbles.
“Oh, Anakin, love, no. Listen. Listen to me.” Obi-Wan squeezes his shoulders. “We still have our bond.” He sees Anakin’s face shift.
“We do?” Anakin snivels.
“Yes, we do. I. . . Well, I never cut the cord, baby.” Obi-Wan laughs, and it prompts Anakin to do the same.
“Really?” And now the tears have new meaning.
“Really, but you know we must be mindful of our use of the Force,” Obi-Wan advises.
“What if. . . just a little. . .” Anakin is back in Obi-Wan’s space and snuggling up against him.
Obi-Wan can feel Anakin has already let a piece of himself go, and he feels lightheaded – in the best way. “Anakin, you have to be very careful.” But there is rapid deterioration to Obi-Wan's own resolve. His body is tingling as Anakin rubs their noses together. Obi-Wan is a shivering man standing outside of a hot shower stall – all he has to do is step inside. . .
He allows the steam of Anakin’s oasis to mist him. . . the narrowest entry of access in the Force. . .
And then he’s drenched like there’s a sudden downpour. . . and he is not interested in dry clothes.
Obi-Wan gasps, and lets his forehead thud against Anakin’s. How he had missed this. How he had chastised himself for not severing this bond when Anakin had been lost to the darkness. Now, he is elated over the nonsensical choice he’d made.
“Darling,” Obi-Wan rasps. “Believe me when I say I don’t want this to end, but it must,” he grunts. And he feels Anakin draw back, leaving Obi-Wan to be the one fighting to catch his breath this time. Foreheads still nestled together, two sets of eyes blink open.
“I love you,” Anakin whispers.
“I love you, too.” And more kisses are bestowed to various parts of Anakin’s face. But Obi-Wan hasn’t forgotten, “You spoke of the pain when you awoke,” he begins troubled. “What about now? Are you hurting at all?”
“I’m a lot better than I was. Some days, my newer wounds from my procedures still sting if I’m not careful of the way I move, but that won’t be forever, and my skin is less irritated all the time. . . I hope I’ll feel more normal one day, but I know I’ll never look normal.”
He’s said the words so casually, but Obi-Wan knows Anakin is having difficulty; his appearance had been the very first thing he’d tried to address. Anakin will always be beautiful from Obi-Wan’s perspective, but these changes that impact his self-esteem. . . they’re on him. “What’s normal, anyway?” The rhetorical question is kind and heartfelt.
“Not these.” Anakin raises his hands. The corner of his lips twitch. “It’s fine, though.” His averted eyes fix on Obi-Wan. “I’m just glad it was me instead of you,” he asserts seriously.
“Oh, Anakin, please don’t say that,” Obi-Wan tells him pained.
“I mean it. I couldn’t stand it if anyone ever hurt you.”
And Obi-Wan feels the same. . . except that he’d hurt Anakin. . . and it does indeed torment him each and every day.
“I’ll be all right. I just wish I wasn’t such a burden,” Anakin comments discouraged.
“You are not. You’re not a burden.” Obi-Wan is adamant.
“I am. Ferus has to do everything for me.”
“We all need help sometimes.”
“That’s exactly what Ferus says. . . Ferus says a lot of things. . . ”
It sounds like a gripe, but Obi-Wan sees a rather large underlying smile to confirm what he’s already suspected; Anakin’s open and loving heart has been stolen once again.
“He’s always fussing over me.” Anakin is beaming. “But. . . it’s kind of. . . I dunno. . .” Now, he reddens.
“You always did enjoy being fussed over,” Obi-Wan reminds humorously. Anakin’s grin is large and mischievous. “You’ve always shined when you’ve gotten special attention or recognition.”
“Ferus said I was a brat.”
Obi-Wan barks in laughter. “Well, I did like to spoil you. . . but I didn’t always, and I should’ve.” He pecks Anakin’s temple. “I will now.”
“Are you going to let me do the things Ferus doesn’t?”
“I doubt it. Sounds like Ferus has done a good job keeping you in line.”
“Yep. He still likes to boss me around like when we were kids. . . but it’s different now; he’s not so. . . smug about it; he’s more like you.”
Obi-Wan laughs. “What do you mean by that? Why do I get the feeling I should be offended?”
“No. I mean, you’re supposed to boss me around – you’re my Master, but your bossiness comes from a place of concern – because you care about me.”
“It’s obvious Ferus cares about you,” Obi-Wan remarks. “And it sounds like you have put your past differences behind you; and you’ve been enjoying his company.”
“Yes,” Anakin admits guiltily, but bashfully. “He’s just. . . He’s so different now.”
Obi-Wan strokes Anakin’s cheek as he listens intently of his newfound fondness for Ferus.
“He’s. . . so sweet. He does all these little things for me beyond what he has to do for me. Like, he bought me this.” Anakin points to the plush pullover he rarely takes off.
“I was admiring that.” Obi-Wan runs a hand over the fabric. “It looks lovely on you.”
“Thanks.” Anakin smiles shyly. “Ferus said this is my color.”
“I think he’s right,” Obi-Wan concurs adoringly.
“What made you seek him out in the first place?” Anakin wonders. “Did you keep in touch with him after he left the Order?”
Obi-Wan is grateful for the latter question, because he isn’t sure of the meaning of the former. He does a quick mental review of what Ferus had said Anakin does and doesn’t know – Anakin had known Ferus had left the Jedi, but didn’t know why. “No,” Obi-Wan starts cautiously. “We had not kept in touch; I only reconnected with him recently.”
“Did you know he was married? To a man?”
The emphasis on the gender makes Obi-Wan snicker. “Yes, I knew. I met him, actually.”
“You did? What was he like?”
Obi-Wan ponders. “I only met him briefly. He was. . . skeptical,” he decides with a low laugh. “He was obviously a very caring individual – protective of the innocent, and of the people he loved. Helpful. Brave. He was a good man.”
“He sounds like Ferus. . . You keep saying, ‘was.’ So, you know his husband died.”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan answers gravely.
“Do you know how?”
Obi-Wan realizes it would’ve been best had he acted as if he had no knowledge of Roan. “I don’t know the details,” he tries.
“Neither do I; Ferus won’t talk about it. He would only tell me it was the Empire.”
Obi-Wan silently absorbs this.
“I’m worried about him. I wish there was something I could do to help him.”
“You do help him,” Obi-Wan promises. “In your own special way, I know you do.” He cups his hand to the side of Anakin’s neck.
“We do laugh a lot; he says I’m funny,” Anakin confirms proudly. “Sometimes Ferus even makes jokes, too. Isn’t that weird?” Anakin teases.
“Uncanny,” Obi-Wan agrees with sarcastic humor.
Anakin grins. “He’s different, like I said. I think we both are. . . I can’t pretend I didn’t torture him right back after all the times he annoyed me. That’s why it’s surprising that he’s been so good to me after all I put him through.”
Obi-Wan feels chills at the irony. “You’ve both grown up,” he begins carefully. “And we are living in a very different galaxy – things that seemed to matter much before, don’t matter so much now. And those things we once took for granted. . . Well, we never will again.”
“I’m sorry I took you for granted.”
“Oh, love. I never meant to insinuate you did. And I don’t believe you did – I did.”
“You didn’t,” Anakin defends.
“I took it for granted that you would always be there – that there would always be time later to tell you how much I love you. . . and then our time fell short.”
“We have time now.”
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around that.” Obi-Wan smiles as he gazes upon the cherished face he’d thought he’d never have the pleasure of seeing again.
“Were we apart for long?”
No matter how Obi-Wan drives the conversation, it seems the topics will continue to circle back to disconcerting subject matter. “It feels like a lifetime.” And that’s certainly true.
Anakin observes that this is one of those same indirect responses Ferus likes to give him. Obi-Wan is trying to protect him, just as Ferus does, but if his Master won’t be honest, then who will? “Ferus said it’s been a year since the Jedi fell. Had we been apart all that time?” he makes a second attempt.
Obi-Wan doesn’t speak, but nods sorrowfully.
“But we talked right? You would hear from me, wouldn’t you?”
“No, love. We hadn’t spoken.”
“At all?? You don’t even know what I was doing all that time?”
And Obi-Wan knows very well what he had been doing. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” is all he can manage.
Deep down, Anakin had known it, but he’d hoped in some magical, mystical way, his Master would be the one to fill in these blanks, but the mystery remains. His frustrated upset leaks through, “I needed you.” Anakin instantly regrets the words; it’s not Obi-Wan’s fault they were separated.
“I wanted to be there. I never wanted to leave you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” Obi-Wan puts his arm around Anakin’s shoulders and draws him close to his side.
“It’s not your fault.” Anakin sucks back tears. “I know you couldn’t be there; we all had to hide – Ferus explained it to me.”
“Still, I am sorry we weren’t together.”
“But we can be together now. . . Can we stay together? Ferus says I can travel soon; can we go back with you?”
“Absolutely. I want you with me. All this time I’ve wanted you with me, but we just couldn’t make it so.” Obi-Wan presses his lips to the top of Anakin’s head.
“Where will we go? Where have you been staying? I hope it’s someplace warm,” Anakin jokes.
And if the response he was holding back weren’t so controversial, Obi-Wan would laugh. “It is, actually.” He is barely audible.
“You can say it,” Anakin laughs nervously. “We aren’t chatting over comm; you don’t have to sensor what you say.”
But Obi-Wan knows he has to sensor just about everything he says. “I’ve been living on. . . Tatooine.”
Anakin’s mouth drops open. “What? Really?? My homeworld?? What brings you to that dustbowl?” he cackles. “You hoped to find me there, didn’t you?”
Obi-Wan smiles. “I had hoped to be closer to you,” he twists the truth.
“It makes sense that I would go there to hide from the Empire – that I’d go home with my mom. I don’t know why I didn’t.” Anakin sighs and shakes his head. “Have you. . . have you seen her?”
Obi-Wan takes in a shaky breath.
*
Ferus feels the agony radiating down into the cargo area of the ship where he sits.
Anakin!
He springs to his feet and rushes up the small staircase, through the corridor, and into the main living space of the ship.
When he makes it to the dining area where’d he’d left Anakin and Obi-Wan, he sees Anakin is no longer on the bench, but is on the floor with his face buried in Obi-Wan’s lap.
Ferus locks eyes with Obi-Wan, a lost look upon the man’s face. There’s no telling what he might’ve revealed. Had he told him of Vader? Why would he do that? Obi-Wan had hardly been here thirty minutes!
Guarded, Ferus approaches. Anakin is hurt, and his instincts are telling him he needs to protect him – to hold him, and comfort him, but Ferus is conflicted in how to react with not knowing what the problem is.
Anakin senses Ferus and looks up at him with a tear-stained face. “Did you know?” he chokes out.
Ferus’ brows knit in concern. “Know what, Anakin? What happened?” he asks breathlessly as he inadvertently steps closer.
“My mom,” Anakin wails. “She’s dead; she died!”
What? Ferus is aghast in hearing this. His knees give, and he sinks to the floor with open arms. He cradles Anakin close as he breaks down. Why? Why did Obi-Wan have to tell him this now? He glances at the Jedi who has joined them on the floor.
“Obi-Wan has been on Tatooine,” Anakin explains wrecked. “And I want us to go stay with him, but Mom won’t be there,” he sobs.
Ferus violates his own strict rule and lets Anakin curl into his hold as he rocks him gently, cheek to the top of his head. “I’m sorry, Anakin. I’m so sorry,” he chants. “I didn’t know. I had no idea. I’m sorry.” The unforgiving durasteel of Anakin’s arms cut into Ferus’ ribs.
Obi-Wan glides a gentle hand along Anakin’s back. He won’t deny the slightest bit of unease he feels at Anakin’s choice to seek comfort from Ferus. Anakin hadn’t let him comfort him the last time; instead, he’d blamed him for his mother’s death, and Obi-Wan still hasn’t fully recovered from that.
He listens as Ferus continues to utter apologies and placating sounds. “Perhaps. . . Should he sit up?” Obi-Wan recommends skittishly, following the instructions Ferus had given earlier in the visit. It’s not as if he’s bothered by their affectionate display, he’s just concerned for Anakin.
“Yes,” Ferus replies, and immediately repositions Anakin in his hold. He gives the nudge for him to control his breathing as well.
The two are side by side now, Ferus’ arm tightly clasped around him. Obi-Wan sits adjacent to them, holding Anakin’s mechno hand.
Anakin is better composed, but his devastation still floods his unbalanced and high-pitched speech, “I know I haven’t seen her in a long time, but I always thought I’d see her again.”
“From what I understand, you were with her when she died.” Obi-Wan hopes this will be a small consolation to his grieving Padawan. “You were able to say goodbye. You had a memorial with the family.”
“The Lars family?” Anakin tries to recollect the introduction of Obi-Wan’s story.
“Yes. And I’ve been in contact with your step-brother and his wife, and they are looking forward to seeing you again,” Obi-Wan offers. “And. . .” he hesitates, but he wants to offer Anakin something, anything that might restore some of his joy – something to ease the pain. “They have a child now – a little baby. . . y-your nephew.”
“Y-yeah?” Anakin sputters and sparks a little.
“Mhmm. His name is Luke, and I live close to them, and we can visit them; they know you’re coming.” Obi-Wan caresses the side of Anakin’s face as Ferus keeps him clutched in his hold.
But Luke only serves as a temporary distraction. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” Anakin’s heavier tears make a reappearance.
Ferus’ already pierced heart is hemorrhaging. “I think you need to rest for a while,” he prompts as he rubs Anakin's shoulders. “This is a lot, and you hardly slept last night.”
“No,” Anakin protests. “There’s so much I don’t know.”
“And we have plenty of time to sort it all out,” Ferus ensures. “You’re going home with Obi-Wan; you’ll have plenty of time to talk.”
“You say that like you’re sending me off; you’re coming too, right?”
Ferus stays quiet, but eyes Obi-Wan. He hadn’t exactly been invited – Obi-Wan had only said he was ‘taking’ Anakin. “That’s up to Obi-Wan. . .” He doesn’t like how pathetic that came out.
Obi-Wan realizes his mistake. “Oh, Ferus, if I implied you weren’t welcome, I apologize – Of course I want you to come with us. I wanted you to come with me before,” he reminds.
“You’ll come, right?” Anakin asks again. He doesn’t want to separate from Ferus any more than he wants to separate from his Master.
“Yeah,” Ferus replies softly. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
*
Ferus gets Anakin to agree to lie down with the compromise that he and Obi-Wan will be right there with him in the tiny cabin. Anakin fights hard to stay awake, but eventually, sleep overtakes him.
Now, Ferus and Obi-Wan pace the living area of the ship as they debate the next steps.
“So, we agree – Vader isn’t a need-to-know piece of information,” Obi-Wan verifies.
“Yes, I do agree, but we both know these hidden truths will come to the surface at some point. We can’t hide the holonews from him forever; and it’s just a matter of time before the media does start reporting on Vader’s disappearance. Anakin is going to ask who Vader is – he asks so many questions.” Ferus puts a palm to his head.
“Well, you can hardly blame him for that! He’s lost seven years of his life – and it has probably been the most rapidly evolving seven years in the galaxy’s history – and that is true of his own personal history as well.”
“And you know more than you’re saying. You know something about his turn. . . What happened? I need to know.”
“No. If we don’t want Anakin to know, then what good will it do for you to know? The less you have to hide from him, the better.”
“Obi-Wan,” Ferus fusses. “You. . . You’ve always been so stubborn! We need to be on the same page; we need to get our stories straight, and while they may not have to match – they can’t conflict. Anakin thinks he was captured by the Empire. Are we going with that? He thinks you sent me to find him! Is that what you want to let him believe?”
Obi-Wan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I hate lying to him.”
“I do, too. Believe me. But for the moment, we don’t have any other choice; he can’t handle any more bad news, so we need to make some decisions – right now. I don’t want to hurt him with our inconsistent omissions of the truth.”
“I won’t hurt him!” Obi-Wan barks passionately. “Not again. . .” he adds weakly as he plops onto the circular seat.
Ferus sits beside him. “I can’t pretend to understand what this is like for you; Anakin is your Padawan, and it’s apparent your relationship runs deeper than that. . .” He waits to see if Obi-Wan might provide some clarification, but he stays silent. “I need you to tell us what to do,” Ferus is suddenly filled with emotion. “I need you to be the Jedi Master.”
“What do you mean, dear?” Obi-Wan softens.
“I’m tired.” Ferus’ lip quivers. “I’m so tired, Obi-Wan. I’m tired of making decisions – of being in charge. I’m tired of the constant turmoil and confusion.” Tears spring to Ferus’ and Obi-Wan’s eyes alike. “I don’t know what to do anymore, and I don’t have the strength to figure it out.”
Obi-Wan lays a hand on Ferus’ back.
“I know he’s Anakin. I know that. But sometimes. . .” Ferus drops his head in his hands.
Obi-Wan feels awful for the position Ferus has been put in – the position of caring for the man who took the life of his husband. Obi-Wan is grateful for the noble and compassionate decision he’s made to stick by Anakin despite what Vader has done. Obi-Wan doesn’t consider himself the best when it comes to making decisions – not anymore, but if Ferus needs him to step in, then he will.
Ferus’ head is still down as Obi-Wan begins to comb his fingers through his hair. “I sent you on a mission to look for Anakin, because I sensed he was in danger,” Obi-Wan narrates quietly, still soothingly carding through Ferus’ silky strands. “I couldn’t go myself, because of my own mission. Is that what you’ve told him?” Obi-Wan feels Ferus’ head nod under his hand.
"That's what he came up with when I wouldn't give him a straight answer," Ferus mutters to his own lap.
Obi-Wan scratches at the back of Ferus' neck. “That mission was protecting a Force-sensitive child on Tatooine, but that child is safe now, and that is why I was able to come here. I’ve told Anakin that he and I haven’t had any contact since the fall of the Jedi; we’ll stick with that. We’ll say we both assumed he was on his own mission prior to his capture. For the last year, I had been looking for clues as to where he might be, but you weren’t even aware he was alive until I told you. Does that work?”
Ferus sits up, already feeling a weight lifted; he no longer has to be alone in this. Obi-Wan’s hand moves to rest upon his shoulder. “A Force-sensitive child?” Ferus questions. “Is there any truth to that?”
Obi-Wan exhales. “Yes. That is the truth. It is the mission I wasn’t willing to tell you about before, but I want to tell you now. I can’t tell you all the details of Anakin’s fall, because I don’t know everything myself, but there is a piece of the puzzle that sheds some light.”
Ferus looks at Obi-Wan in uncertainty and expectance.
“We will tell Anakin I was protecting a Force-sensitive child, and that that child has moved on and is well-looked after, but the truth is. . . that Force-sensitive child is the nephew I spoke of: Luke. . . and Luke is Anakin’s son.”
Notes:
The boys are all together! Finally! 🎉
This chapter was a challenging one for me 😫 If there was any part of it that you enjoyed in particular, I'd really be grateful to know ❤️
Chapter 14
Notes:
Hello! This will likely be my first and last chapter for the month of October. I have to shift my focus to my obikin Big Bang work for a bit, and I also have a trip coming up at the end of the month that I am trying to prepare for. But fear not, I WILL return in November with all the drama and snuggles you can stand. I appreciate your support ❤️
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Three remarkable rotations pass.
Obi-Wan can’t remember ever being so happy. He can’t remember Anakin ever being so happy.
Obi-Wan had never considered the life of a Jedi as burdensome, but he’d known the weight it had put on Anakin’s shoulders. Even if there had been no prophecy, Obi-Wan knows Anakin would’ve still felt the welfare of the galaxy his responsibility.
With an upbringing that left him no control over the injustice he’d often witness, Anakin aspired to be the hero. He aspired to be the savior. He wanted to save others from hardships, because he understood firsthand what it was like to face them.
Consequently, he’d bound himself to the chains of perfectionism, and slapped himself with an undertaking that wouldn’t have been assigned to the Order as a whole, let alone to an individual Jedi. The war had caused a greater strain – the pressure he’d felt began to come at him from every angle, and no longer just from himself. Many were relying on him – depending on him. And to the average outsider, Anakin appeared to have it all together. . . confident. . . poised. . . unphased, but Obi-Wan knew his Padawan’s heart could easily become clouded with doubt, and when they were beaten in battle, and when lives were lost, Anakin was affected immensely.
And now, Anakin was relieved of his arduous duty – no sentients to serve and no memory of the most trying time of his life. Gone is the tormented man who’d had many secrets to hide and an overwhelming amount of emotions to bottle. And though his current mindset is of a time of his adolescence, there is also no sign of the moody and conflicted teen he once was.
This Anakin is one with a renewed sprit – a renewed appreciation for life. Obi-Wan is surprised at how content his adventurous Padawan seems to be living in this quiet moment as he works to achieve his physical challenges. There are times when frustration emerges, as well as sadness from the knowledge of his mother’s passing. . . melancholy over the Jedi he called family, and the Republic he’d been eager to serve since his boyhood, but more often than not, Anakin is putting his wonderful sense of humor on display, joking, laughing. . . smiling. . . Anakin is happy, and as a result, all of his best qualities are on the forefront – his wit, his charm, humbleness and sensitivity. His considerate and affectionate nature. . . Anakin can finally be himself, open and honest about what he is feeling, without fear of repercussion.
Together, they can let everything else fall away. There is no outside interference breeding the tension that would threaten to tear them apart. And they won’t be torn apart. Obi-Wan is intent on savoring every second he has with this sublimely resurged Anakin. He won’t forfeit his chance to make him feel loved and cherished after having withheld his admiration for far too long.
So, Obi-Wan hugs him, and holds him, and presses kisses to his scarred, but no less gorgeous, face. And he takes every opportunity to tell him just how beautiful he truly is, both inside and out.
Much to Obi-Wan’s dismay, it takes a bit of convincing where appearance is concerned; in addition to wearing what he’s been calling his ‘Ferus sweater,’ Anakin has adopted Obi-Wan’s traveling cloak as his own, and uses the hood to keep his head covered and face shadowed the majority of the time.
Obi-Wan has high hopes that Anakin can overcome the shame; in just these few rotations, he can see the impressive impact this ‘miracle cream’ has made, subtly smoothing the imperfections along his wounded flesh. He is so thankful, and quite frankly, baffled at what Zan Arbor has done for his boy.
And Obi-Wan wants to do for him, too. . . He has offered to assist in ointment applications many times, but Ferus is always adamant that he take care of anything pertaining to Anakin’s health or appetite.
So, Obi-Wan steps aside, tickled over Ferus’ strategic wellness plan and his commitment to it; the behavior is very much in line with the Padawan he’d been a decade prior – never able to relax or sit still when there was work to be done. . . or to be planned. But Mostly, Obi-Wan is touched at the devotion Ferus shows Anakin. It had been apparent from the start that Anakin had fallen for Ferus, but it is becoming abundantly clear that Ferus’ heart has been stolen as well.
Obi-Wan genuinely enjoys watching them interact. Ferus will do absolutely anything to ensure Anakin is safe and comfortable, and Anakin never takes this for granted, typically expressing his appreciation both verbally and physically. It is hard to imagine the two ever having been rivals.
Obi-Wan will forever be indebted to Ferus for what he has done and continues to do for Anakin. He is thrilled that Ferus will join them on Tatooine.
And they depart for Tatooine. . . now.
Ferus had arranged for a remote medical checkup with Jenna. Even Dr. Vaklin had gotten on the call to see the progress Anakin had made. The doctors had indicated that Anakin is on target and doing well enough that there is no longer a concern to hyperspace travel.
It’s good news, but Ferus is worried. He always worries. What if they launch into space and complications arise? Jenna won’t be with them, and won’t be able to easily get to them, if she is even able at all.
But Ferus knows this worry would persist today, tomorrow, and each and every day following, and Anakin is eager to leave Toloran, and Ferus is ready himself, but it feels strange to put this chapter behind him.
These last two weeks had felt months long, but somehow Ferus finds himself not wanting to close this door. . . Though, things have already changed quite a bit since Obi-Wan’s arrival.
Anakin no longer relies on Ferus every minute of the day. While Ferus is still the primary bacta bath assistant, ointment applicator, and therapy coach, Obi-Wan is there to talk to him, to make him laugh. . . and Obi-Wan does a bit more than that. . .
At first, he’d tried to be discreet – sneaking a kiss to his cheek, affectionately rubbing Anakin’s back, and calling him anything from ‘dear one’ to ‘darling’ – as he also tended to call Ferus. . . But now Obi-Wan’s lips are more often than not somewhere on Anakin at any given time, and he’ll even host Anakin upon his lap. Likewise, the terms of endearment have morphed to ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart,’ always dripping with tenderness and love.
And Anakin soaks it up. Ferus can see how he adores being kissed and held and called cute nicknames. . . but now he seems to expect similar treatment from Ferus.
Ferus had surely crossed a line he hadn’t before when Obi-Wan first broke the news to Anakin about his mother. Ferus’ empathic instincts had taken control; Anakin was hurting, so Ferus had cradled him close, and rocked him in his arms with the intent to soothe. He hadn’t meant to so intimately stroke his tear-stricken face, or for his lips to brush against Anakin’s ear as he shushed him.
So, was it his overabundance in that moment that triggered this shift, or is this something Obi-Wan has brought out of him? Regardless, Anakin has enhanced expectations for contact.
His hugs are more spontaneous now, and not sought only for the need to curb sadness or as a way to celebrate victories, but simply when the mood strikes. He’ll also boldly rest his head on Ferus’ shoulder, or sometimes link their arms together. Anakin doesn’t seem to pick up on his discomfort, and Ferus never reciprocates, but why doesn’t he stop it?
For this, Ferus has no answer.
Anakin has just given him a more purposeful hug as they make their final preparations for takeoff. Ferus knows this is Anakin’s way of expressing his own bittersweet feelings of the close of this chapter. . . Or perhaps this is Anakin trying to charm him into letting him pilot. . .
Ferus had already denied him, citing that he needs to be still and closely monitored for the duration of the flight, not getting overexcited or overexerting himself in the cockpit.
So, while Obi-Wan lifts the craft, freeing it from weeks of snow cover, Ferus keeps a palm positioned near Anakin’s mouth to ascertain there isn’t a change in breathing, and a hand to his chest to attest that there isn’t any unusual rattling. He’s also gotten Anakin to wear a monitor to evaluate his vitals; Jenna had left one with them with in case of emergency.
They are more than an hour into the flight, and the monitor has yet to show any indication of distress. So, at Anakin’s insistence, Ferus finally lets him get up to stretch. He doesn’t authorize the removal of the monitor, but does ease off as a monitor, allowing Anakin to go sit in the co-pilot’s seat without restraints.
Their day spent on the ship isn’t that much different than the last three days spent on the ship. Anakin naps off and on. He and Obi-Wan sit together while Ferus finds little chores to keep occupied. And when Ferus decides to take a breather, Anakin gives Obi-Wan’s lap a break and does all but sit on Ferus’ instead.
They eat. They joke.
And they all entertain very different and private thoughts about what lies ahead.
If Obi-Wan’s cave had a front door, then that would be the description of where he’s just landed the ship. Living on the outskirts of civilization proves beneficial as he is able to bypass the spaceport and touch down in a rather large and convenient parking spot right at his residence.
Ferus is at Anakin’s side once more, having reverted back to caregiver mode for the exit from hyperspace. He and Obi-Wan are silent, waiting to follow Anakin’s lead, knowing this return to his homeworld is likely overwhelming.
Anakin makes no move. His large eyes meet Ferus.'
Ferus offers him a soft smile, and an ice breaker. . . somewhat of the literal sense. . . “No more snow,” he jokes carefully and kindly.
Anakin’s lips ripple. “From snowmen to sandcastles,” he mumbles.
“Do you want to stay on the ship a while?” Obi-Wan suggests.
“Not really,” Anakin confesses. “I’ve been on this thing nonstop for a week – and another ship the week before that. I’m ready to breathe fresh air.”
Ferus doesn’t say it, but he’s nervous about how Anakin’s lungs will react to that as well. At least they won’t have to worry about the ramp being so slick. . . Ferus and Obi-Wan still help him inch down anyway.
And Anakin is overcome.
He first feels blinded by the light. There hadn’t even been sun rays coming through the windows on Toloran. With a false foot in the sand, he feels a sense of home – that comes with a sense of dread, and a wave of mourning. But he also feels freedom. Last time he’d been here, he’d departed with hopes of becoming a Jedi and returning to free his mother. Now, he’d made it back, but no longer a Jedi, and without the possibly of seeing her at all.
He scans the horizon, and the rock formation in front of him. He takes in a breath of the warm air, and is suddenly aware it is no longer sweater weather; he’ll only need his pullover at nighttime. Now, it dawns on Anakin that he’s not exactly sure what he’s looking at.
“Obi-Wan?” he calls.
“Hmm?” Obi-Wan is there with a hand on the small of Anakin’s back; Ferus had already migrated under the ship for a quick post-travel inspection.
“I don’t get it – where’s your dwelling?” Anakin asks.
“This is it, sweetheart.” Obi-Wan gestures to the break in the center of the stone wall.
Anakin tries not to look disappointed or shocked. “You live in a cave?”
“It’s not much, but being in hiding isn’t very glamourous,” Obi-Wan teases. “Personally, I think it’s better than being on the run. . . Are you going to run out on me?”
“No,” Anakin smiles, then snuggles his Master before stepping into his home to observe. . . It isn’t so bad. It’s shaded and cool, and sort of cozy – and Anakin presumes doesn’t cost anything. And there’s plenty of room for all three of them.
Obi-Wan leaves Anakin to explore while he checks in on Ferus.
Anakin discovers that beyond the simple bed pad on a rock pedestal and a couple of boulders for seating, this is a very deep cave. He proceeds to tunnel until the suns no longer light his way, then turns back. He makes another loop around what he’ll call the studio cavern, then steps back outside to meet his mates.
He is distracted by an eopie that has wandered over. He marches up and pets the sparse sprout of fur on top its head – not much different than his own, he notes humorously. “Hi, girl.” Anakin puts his cheek to the animal’s, and she nuzzles him back. “Aww, you’re so sweet. Where did you come from?”
Obi-Wan surfaces from under the ship and catches a glimpse of Anakin. “Look at him,” he tells Ferus adoringly.
Ferus’ work agenda is stalled as he takes in the sight. His shoulders relax, hands drop to his sides, and he smiles.
“I see you’ve met my main mode of transportation,” Obi-Wan projects as he walks up to the pair.
“She’s yours??” Anakin is amazed.
“She is.”
“Well, she must be hungry! All this time, she’s been on her own since you haven’t been here,” Anakin scolds.
“No, your step-brother promised to stop in and feed her.”
“Oh.” Anakin resumes running his hand along the eopie’s long neck. “What’s her name?”
Obi-Wan’s face goes rigid. He hesitates, but admits it, “Akkani.”
Anakin’s head slowly turns to his Master. “What?” He wears a mischievous and massive grin.
“Akkani,” Obi-Wan repeats, knowing his Padawan has heard loud and clear.
“That’s an interesting and FAMILIAR name,” Anakin taunts. “Well, you weren’t kidding – you really missed me.”
Obi-Wan flushes, but is happy to have filled Anakin with such pride. “You know I did.” He gives Akkani a pat, then smooches the side of Anakin’s face.
The trio walk back into the cave as a unit.
Ferus takes a quick inventory, and the ambition most customary to him resumes. Should they move Anakin’s medical supplies here, or would it be better to keep them on the ship? Maybe he could just transport some food for the time being. Does Anakin want to sleep in his bunk on the ship, or should he move the mattress to the floor of the cave? There is an easy answer for that one; he surmises if Obi-Wan has a bed in the cave, Anakin will want his bed here, too. And Anakin will need to rest before too long. . . “I’m going to bring in the bedding from the ship,” Ferus informs.
“I’ll help you with that,” Obi-Wan offers. “But there’s time; no need to rush.” The words are gentle, placating.
Ferus exhales. It’s true. He looks to Anakin who is now fixated on Obi-Wan’s sleep space.
Anakin thoughtfully paces in front of the pallet. He notes that it’s big enough for two – maybe even three. “Ferus, where will you sleep?”
“I’ll just need a few linens, and I’ll be fine anywhere.”
“Your only choices are on the rock or in the sand; neither will be very comfortable,” Anakin protests.
“The bench on the ship is still an option, too.” But in reality, Ferus doesn’t want to be that far from Anakin should he need him in the middle of the night. A blanket on the floor will suffice. He’s slept in much worse conditions in Imperial prison.
“Can’t I sleep with you, Master?” Anakin asks abruptly, but simply. “Then, Ferus can have the bedding from the ship.”
Obi-Wan can practically hear Ferus’ anticipation in how he will respond. He knows Ferus has been watching them – just as he had when he was a young man in the Order; however, Obi-Wan has a feeling his scrutiny no longer has anything to do with whether or not he and Anakin are keeping the protocol of the Jedi code.
“If you want to. . .” Obi-Wan starts softly. “Whatever the two of you would like to do is fine with me.” He doesn’t want to seem too eager, but how he wants to share his bed with Anakin. So many nights he’d spent alone here wishing – dreaming Anakin was beside him. For the past three nights, he’d longed to cuddle up next to him in the one-person cot.
Ferus doesn’t argue, but doesn’t agree. He certainly wouldn’t mind having a more restful slumber for a change. But he’s trying to understand why the proposal of this sleeping arrangement bothers him so much.
Since Ferus seems indifferent, Anakin makes the decision; it’s only logical that they all have a cushion between their bodies and the available unsatisfactory surfaces. “I’ll help you move the mattress. . .” Anakin takes a step forward for the ship.
“No!” Ferus blocks Anakin’s path and puts up his hands. “No,” he directs more casually. “I’ve got it; Obi-Wan and I will get it. Your hyperspace restriction is lifted, but you’re still on light duty.”
Anakin sighs. He watches Obi-Wan and Ferus as they board the transport. He removes both his Master’s traveling cloak and Ferus’ pullover and migrates out into the rays of the unforgiving suns to visit with Akkani some more.
Just moments later, Ferus and Obi-Wan enter the cave with the bedding in tow; and when Ferus sees that the space is void of Anakin, his blood pressure rises. “Where did Anakin go?” he masks the panic he feels, nerves in overdrive; it will be harder to keep tabs on Anakin here in this large, open area, rather than in the safe confines of his ship.
Obi-Wan looks around curiously; he and Ferus spot Anakin on the side of the cavern at the very same time.
“What are you doing?!” Ferus shrieks.
Anakin’s head whips around. He cocks it in confusion. “What? What did I do?”
“Get back in the shade!” Ferus yells, snatching Obi-Wan’s cloak and rushing over.
“Huh?” Anakin is perplexed.
“Exposing fair skin that is being treated for burns to the Tatooine suns is NOT a good idea.” Ferus ushers him back into the cave as he drapes the robe over Anakin's shoulders.
Obi-Wan has to agree with Ferus on this, so he is forced to hide his laugh. Finally, someone else who can understand what it’s like to always have to fuss over Anakin.
Brows knitted together and a pout on his face, Anakin approaches his Master muttering under his breath. “Not like I didn’t grow up here,” he complains. “I can handle the Tatooine suns.”
Obi-Wan helps him into the robe. “We’ve been here all of five minutes and you’re already causing trouble.” he tsks playfully.
Anakin’s arms come through the voluminous sleeves. His scowl fades. “I need a little color,” he explains pitifully.
“Best not to risk it,” Obi-Wan concurs. “That cream is working wonders, but there could be some nasty side effects you aren’t aware of.”
“Can’t get much more nasty than I already am,” Anakin blows out at a low tone.
Obi-Wan frowns and pulls Anakin into his loving embrace – grasping the battered back, rubbing his fingers along it sweetly. “You are my beautiful boy. Don’t you forget that.”
Ferus has calmed upon realizing what Anakin was trying to achieve. “I’ll contact Jenna soon and see if she’s aware of any dangers in being in the sun during treatment.”
Anakin nods. “Okay. . . Sorry.” He gives Ferus a guilty look.
“You don’t have to b— It’s okay. Just no sunbathing until we know. All right?”
“All right.” Anakin yawns. “When will we go see the Lars?” he suddenly wonders.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Obi-Wan indicates. “But not today,” he advises as he watches Anakin yawn again. “It’s already a little late in the day for Luke, and apparently for you as well.”
“Yeah.” There is annoyance in Anakin’s voice.
“I’ll wake you in an hour.” Ferus knows Anakin despises his need for naps even more so now with Obi-Wan back in his life; he’s afraid of what he’ll miss after already having missed so much.
“Thanks,” Anakin replies sleepily.
And Ferus is clobbered in another arbitrary hug, but is aware that he would have been disheartened had he not received it. He watches Anakin mosey to Obi-Wan’s bed, resisting the urge to sit beside him until he falls asleep, like he’d done so many times during their early rotations together. . . It’s actually been a while since Anakin has asked this of him. . .
Since he isn’t needed bedside, Ferus immediately immerses himself in work the second Anakin’s head hits the pillow. He first connects Obi-Wan’s sole vaporator to the waterline of the ship. Its minimal output isn’t a concern, because he’d packed the ship’s water storage tanks with snow before they’d left, but having the vaporator as a backup will be an adequate way to conserve.
Ferus moves the medical materials in and out of the cave three times before settling on leaving them aboard the ship. Though there is more room in the cavern, it is better that they avoid tracking sand into the bacta tube or risk getting it mixed into the healing salve to further irritate Anakin's skin. Anakin will shower or soak on the ship and receive his ointment applications thereafter.
Obi-Wan notes how Ferus does not stop for the remainder of the evening. Most of the things he does are done more than once and checked for accuracy several times over. The moment Anakin awakes, he ushers him from the cave for his evening wound treatment. Ferus’ busy body seems to have gotten much busier in just the last rotation alone. Obi-Wan knows very well what Ferus is doing, and he knows the dangers of ignoring grief.
Everything Ferus does is certainly out of love and respect for Anakin. Without a doubt. But Obi-Wan believes the extreme interest he’s taken in his health has much to do with the loss of his husband.
Crafting schedules and adhering to a routine are a part of who Ferus is, but Obi-Wan suspects the excessiveness and his unwillingness to slow down are a way to shift his focus from the pain he feels over losing Roan. He also presumes that his unexpected attachment to Anakin has instilled a fear that he could lose him as well, should he not do everything he can to keep Anakin healthy.
And. . .
Obi-Wan perceives that his own re-entry into Anakin’s life has made Ferus fret that he might take over some of his tasks, leaving Ferus less occupied. He hurriedly does things for Anakin before Obi-Wan can. Because what will he do if Obi-Wan does it for him? Ferus doesn’t want to risk finding that out.
For now, Obi-Wan will continue to let Ferus do for Anakin. Surely, the change in location has also contributed to Ferus’ increased productivity. He won’t probe; they’ll get settled, and Obi-Wan will keep mindful in how he offers help – covertly letting Ferus know he does not wish to assume every one of his responsibilities to Anakin. But if it comes down to it, Obi-Wan will not let Ferus burn out the way Anakin once did. At some point, Ferus will have to release the grief he’s been storing away; it is a common misconception that suffocating it will kill it. . . but grief will survive, even in a container without air holes.
*
Soon enough, the three tired travelers wind down for the night with plans to join the Lars family for lunch the fowling day.
Obi-Wan and Anakin drift off quickly in their bed for two. Ferus tries his damnedest to pay them no mind, but he’d heard the goodnight kisses and faint giggling. He tries to focus on the luxury that is a real mattress supporting his back. He’d only slept upon it once when they’d first gotten to Toloran, and once more when Anakin had graciously given it to him their first night together on their own.
Even so, Ferus tosses and turns. And when he finally finds a somewhat comfortable position, he is despondent that it provides a perfect view of his cave mates.
They are plastered together – legs tangled, Obi-Wan’s arm wrapped securely around Anakin as his head rests to his Master’s chest. . . And it eats away at Ferus. And why? Why does it matter? Isn’t this a good thing? Isn’t this what’s best for Anakin? Obi-Wan is what’s best for Anakin. . . And does Anakin really need him at all anymore?
Anakin doesn’t need two caretakers. There isn’t anything that Ferus can do that Obi-Wan can’t. . . but there is a lot that Obi-Wan can do that Ferus can’t touch.
What about when Anakin is well enough that he doesn’t even need therapy? And maybe his wound treatments will even be reduced in the near future. And what will Ferus do then? What will they do here day after day? There’s so many other things he could be doing right now. He had been part of the Eleven. He had been a rebellion leader. Just because Vader had been taken out of the equation, it doesn’t mean the Empire is dead. There’s plenty to do in this galaxy; there’s no reason to duck on Tatooine. That was Obi-Wan’s gig. Not his.
Ferus suddenly feels very out of place. He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t belong with Anakin; he belongs with. . . his husband. . . and if he can’t be with him, then he needs to go to a place where he’ll feel more connected to him.
Ferus hastily reaches for his communication device and types out a critical message to his most trusted ally.
Notes:
"Are you going to run out on me?” It wasn't Anakin that Obi-Wan had to worry about. . .
Ferus is gonna try to bolt, y'all. Poor little muffin 😔💔
Chapter 15
Notes:
Hello there! I have returned from my trip, and Big Bang is done! And I am very excited to share this new chapter with you ❤️ This one has been a long time coming, and it's literally a long one to make up for lost time - over 7k 👍🏻 More drama! More fluff! And I sincerely hope you enjoy it 🙂
And if you'd be interested in a little obikin same age AU, and would like even MORE drama and fluff, please consider checking out my new work, Remind Me Who I Am 💕
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ferus hadn’t had a very restful night after coming to such a difficult decision, but he’s certain it is the right one; his head already feels clearer just in knowing all the confusion and turmoil that has left him in a fog the last two weeks will soon dissipate.
But that means his time with Anakin will soon dissipate as well.
And Ferus will miss him. So much. Too much. . . and that very revelation is why he has to go; Anakin is the source of his constant ambivalence.
From his own pile of blankets, Ferus watches him. Anakin is alone on the rock pedestal bed, Obi-Wan having already risen with the peak of the first sun. Anakin is on his stomach. One mechanical arm hangs off the side of the stone formation while the other is trapped beneath him. His knees are bent, and his rear end is elevated. Ferus snorts. They joke about his tendency to baby Anakin, but this is surely a common position for an infant to sleep in. . . and Anakin isn’t supposed to be in any position other than flat. . . though he had been wrapped around Obi-Wan all through the night. . .
Ferus sits up and scans the space for Obi-Wan. There is no sign of him for the moment, so he gingerly pads to Anakin.
The durasteel arm can’t be very comfortable to lie on. In addition, Anakin’s metal fingers have made indentions in his jaw. Ferus passes a hand over the soft, red pullover covering Anakin’s back and attempts to coax him to flip over. Anakin’s eyes do not open, but his face scrunches, and he grunts, while kicking out a leg and moving to his side. Ferus repositions the dangling arm back onto to the pallet, then covers Anakin in Obi-Wan’s cloak that had been shuffled to the foot of the bed.
Ferus lingers for a few extra seconds, then follows an herbal aroma to find Obi-Wan perched on the plateau in the entryway of the cavern.
Obi-Wan had expressed gratitude for the modern conveniences equipped on Ferus’ ship. Apparently he’d been scrounging for tea on Tatooine, and without a proper kitchen, the brewing process was time-consuming and cumbersome.
Ferus approaches. Obi-Wan’s back is to him; Ferus sees the steam from the hot beverage rising above his head. He sees modest morning rays creating shining highlights of copper in his heightened, glossy hair. After two weeks of darkness on Toloran, Ferus feels a grand appreciation for the display before him.
A teacup slides out along the boulder from the left side of where Obi-Wan sits. “I had another ready,” he reveals evenly, but cheerfully, and without drawing his attention from the horizon.
Ferus smiles and moves to retrieve the drink. “Thank you.”
“Sit down, my fellow early bird,” Obi-Wan directs. “No need to go for the worm just yet.”
Ferus decerns the sentiment; he'd always been thankful for Obi-Wan's level of awareness, particularly now. Ferus takes the seat beside him and sips from the picture-perfect cup.
“Siri used to talk of how you’d wake with the suns,” Obi-Wan comments nostalgically.
Ferus’ lips curl at the mention of his beloved, departed Master. “You mean complain?” he chuckles. “‘Do you know what time it is? Go back to sleep, Ferus!’” he mimics her snarky tone.
Obi-Wan’s heart is warm at the impeccable impression of his old friend. “I had also been scolded for waking her a time or two. . . much like with Anakin.”
“I just got the grumpy pout when I tried to get him to roll over a few minutes ago,” Ferus acknowledges.
Obi-Wan shows his teeth. “If you are my early bird, then he is my night owl,” he notes adoringly. “I used to find him up at all hours of the night, even when he was small. I would fuss him for staying up late to work or study – I’d accuse him of poor time management, but I think that was just the time of day when his mind was calm enough to focus on stationary tasks.”
“He’s calm enough to sleep day and night now.”
“Calmer, yes, and he gets worn out so quickly, it seems.”
“He does.” Ferus takes another taste of tea.
“I can see that it bothers him to sleep so frequently, but I must say, I relish in it; we held the opposite problem during the war. He refused to slow down, powering through without a break, pushing himself to the limit. I would beg him to sleep, but his ambition would typically override everything.”
“Ambition,” Ferus repeats thoughtfully. “Growing up, I’d always perceived him as competitive. Every encounter felt like a confrontation - like a challenge, and foolishly, I took the bait every time. Looking back, getting to know him better. . . I can see there was insecurity underlying – discouragement. He didn’t want to win to be better than me. He wanted to win because he felt he had something to prove to himself. He was in competition with himself.”
“I would say. . . that’s accurate. He was always hard on himself, and he always held that need for victory as a result.” Obi-Wan sighs. “I do believe that’s where I lost him. . . His fear of losing,” he somberly tsks. “It impacted him in more ways than one. But now that he’s lost so much, I don’t think it frightens him anymore.”
“Well, he hasn’t lost you – and it’s clear you’re what matters most to him.”
“You mean a great deal to him as well,” Obi-Wan reminds intently.
“Obi-Wan? You don’t have to answer this, but. . . I saw the two of you last night, the way you. . . I know I only implied it before, but did the two of you have a relationship?”
“Not a romantic one, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“That is what I’m getting at. I’ve turned the other cheek at all the kissing and pet names over the last few rotations, but the way he was curled up against you last night, and the way you held him – I can’t say it’s a position I’ve ever been in with my Master, but I’ve surely slept beside my husband in the same manner.”
“I never touched him,” Obi-Wan defends sharply. “Not when he was seventeen. But when he got older, when the war started. . . well, we became less like Master and apprentice and more like. . . something else entirely. But nothing ever came of it – not really. We’d seek comfort when we were deployed, but it was never really romantic so much as just comfortable – natural. . . and I suppose that’s why we ended up that way last night – it just felt natural; it’s definitely not something he’d remember us doing.”
“But you remember.”
“I do.”
“You were in love with him, and you still are,” Ferus accuses.
Obi-Wan isn’t caught off guard. He hadn’t really put in much of an effort to hide it, and there is no reason to hide it going forward. Obi-Wan doesn’t want to hide it. “Yes.” He isn’t sure if he should speak further; Ferus is both wordless and expressionless for a beat.
“I’m glad he has you,” Ferus forces out. “I’m glad you have this home base for him – a stable place where he can continue to recover. And he has family here; that’s great.”
Obi-Wan knows where this is heading, and he is dreading what he knows Ferus will tell him next. “I think once we get over this initial, difficult part later today, he will be very happy here. He’s happy we’re all together,” Obi-Wan tries.
Ferus doesn’t look at him. “You know I can’t stay.”
“Why?” Obi-Wan immediately shoots back. “Why not? You can.”
Ferus shakes his head. “I need to get back to base.”
“You’ve said yourself everything with the rebellion is on hold right now. There’s no need to go, not just yet – reach out first, and see how everyone is doing before you—”
“It’s not just the Eleven; there are things I need to take care of on Bellassa as well.”
“Wait,” Obi-Wan pleads. “Please wait. Anakin will be crushed. Please just wait and let him get settled.”
“He doesn’t need me, Obi-Wan; he has you.”
“He needs you, too. Do you not hear how he refers to the two of you as one unit? Do you not see the way he lights up when you enter the room? He hangs on your every word; ‘Ferus says. . . Ferus thinks. . . Ferus wants. . .’”
“That’s just because we’ve spent so much time together. I’m all he’s had for the last two weeks. He’ll be fine. I know you’ll take care of him.”
“And that’s what’s driving your decision. You believe you won’t be needed, but you are. You constantly worry for him even when you’re right here with him; you don’t really want to go. You’re running away because it scares you – because of what he used to be, and I’m. . . I’m scared, too, and maybe I need you just as much as he does right now. You’re the only one that— Don’t go. I want you to stay.”
Obi-Wan and Ferus go quiet when they sense Anakin awake. At the sound of his footsteps, both men rotate their torsos to face him. He looks sleepy, but cozy – buried in his Master’s robe with arms wrapped around himself.
“Good morning, dear one,” Obi-Wan beams.
Anakin is looking out at the second sun that is just starting to rise. Now, he meets Obi-Wan’s gaze, and a slight smile creeps upon his lips.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Obi-Wan queries.
It really is, but Anakin stays silent. He moves to wedge himself between the pair.
Obi-Wan chortles, puts an arm around him, and kisses his hooded head as Anakin snuggles into him.
Ferus is just about to stand when a cybernetic arm comes around his waist. And as Obi-Wan releases him from his greeting hug, Anakin burrows to Ferus’ side instead.
Ferus internally sighs, not because Anakin has once again overstepped a physical boundary, but because Obi-Wan is right; he doesn’t want to go. He wants to stay with Anakin. He wants to be close to him, just like this. But he can’t, and he has to say goodbye. . . But maybe just for today. . .
Ferus’ posture relaxes as he rests his cheek to the top of the covered head that has just settled upon his shoulder.
Obi-Wan knows Ferus is wrestling with the very same qualm he himself had struggled with for many years: craving Anakin’s touch, while simultaneously fighting a guilt-ridden urge to push it away. He’s seen the way Ferus tethers between satisfaction and indecision each time Anakin gets close to him. And at the proposal of his departure, Obi-Wan is satisfied that Ferus is giving in to the warmth and solace Anakin can so well provide. Anakin needs him to stay. Obi-Wan needs him to stay.
Obi-Wan reaches past Anakin and lightly scratches the back of Ferus’ neck – a way to say that he understands, he gets it. But also to say, ‘You belong right here with the both of us.’
The three remain still for a few precious moments, huddled together as they watch the sky change colors in a comfortable silence.
. . .Until something inside of Ferus awakens his need for routine. He lifts his head. “Are you hungry?” he asks Anakin softly.
Anakin does not lift his head. “No,” he chirps. He’s starving, actually, but he’s enjoying this too much to move; Ferus rarely lets him hold onto him for so long.
Ferus hears Anakin’s stomach growl at the mention of hunger. “Yes, you are,” he chuckles. He pats Anakin’s cheek as a motivation to get him into gear. “You need to eat and take your bacta soak early, so there’s time for therapy before lunch with your step-brother,” he informs firmly but gently.
“‘Kay,” Anakin obliges mid yawn. “Five more minutes.”
Ferus sees Anakin and Obi-Wan have joined hands in Anakin’s lap. His own hand twitches. He folds his arms, but allows his head to knock against Anakin’s once more. “Five more minutes,” he agrees quietly.
A quick and easy breakfast is served. Ferus' mind is full of contemplation over what to expect at the Lars homestead as opposed to his exit strategy.
Ferus had been shocked to learn Anakin had fathered not one, but two children with Senator Amidala, and he found he had immediately forgiven Obi-Wan for putting his duty to look after the precious youngling above everything else.
Ferus is eager to meet Luke – surprisingly excited, but he is apprehensive about the emotional storm that will no doubt roll in once Anakin is faced with the evidence of his mother’s passing. . . when he’s standing before her grave.
Ferus notices Anakin’s cough to be a bit aggravated this morning, and he surmises it has everything to do with the change in atmosphere. It will not do him good to get worked up and upset, but though it is a highly hypocritical belief, Ferus feels it is important for Anakin to face this grief. Alternatively, he knows he has to stop worrying; he has to let go. Soon, Anakin will no longer be his responsibility. . . and Ferus keeps telling himself that’s what he’s wanted all along.
All throughout the morning, Obi-Wan keeps giving Ferus sideways glances and intense stares. Ferus knows he wants to finish their earlier conversation – he wants to talk him out of leaving, so Ferus intends to avoid finishing that conversation at all costs. He can’t be talked out of this; he’s going. He just needs to find the right moment to tell them both.
But in avoiding Anakin and Obi-Wan in the hours leading up to the visit with the Lars, Ferus walks in on them and learns he has missed a crucial conversation, with subject matter that threatens to make him cancel his plans on the spot.
“No,” Ferus tells Anakin squarely, interrupting his and Obi-Wan’s pleasant chat. “No,” he repeats shaking his head. “You don’t need to be thinking about that now – you don’t need a job.”
“Obi-Wan has a job,” Anakin points out.
“Yes, but it’s not safe for you; someone could recognize you.”
Anakin starts laughing ironically. “If they don’t recognize Obi-Wan, they aren’t going to recognize this.” He gestures to his face.
“You’re looking more and more like your old self every day.”
“We’re on the outskirts of civilization. No one here followed the war – they wouldn’t know my face. They haven’t even put together that Ben Kenobi is Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Anakin laughs. “They don’t know who we are.”
“Maybe not from the war, but you grew up here, and many know you left to become a Jedi.”
Obi-Wan puts a hand on Ferus’ shoulder. “I’ll look into it for him,” he offers. “I’ll see if I can find something more behind the scenes, out of the public eye. Besides, the people here – they don’t want the complication of being associated with a Jedi. They don’t want the presence of the Empire here. If anyone happened to recognize him, I believe they’d simply pretend they didn’t.”
Ferus lowers his head. Anakin isn’t ready for this, but what can he do? He’ll leave, and Anakin and Obi-Wan will do whatever they want to do anyway. He’s got to start accepting the inevitable; Anakin won’t be his business any longer. . . he never really was.
Anakin follows Ferus to a stone seat a meter away. Ferus’ concern for him touches him. His protectiveness makes Anakin feel safe. It makes him feel loved. “I’ll be careful,” he promises sweetly as he covers the hand on Ferus’ knee with his own.
Ferus doesn’t reject Anakin’s hand, but flattens his palm to his thigh. He forces a positive change to his distressed face and posture, abandoning the verbal negativity as well, by offering a lighthearted suggestion to correct the mood he’s created, “Well, if you want to be a Tatooine resident, then I guess you’ll have to adopt a phony name, too; though, I do think you should come up with a different last name.” Ferus sees Obi-Wan grin when he eyes him tauntingly.
“Well, the first name is easy,” Anakin decides with a smirk. “I’ll be Akkani.”
Ferus laughs. “You can’t take the eopie’s name.”
“Well, I don’t want it to be super different from the name my mom gave me.” Anakin feels Obi-Wan’s fingers curl around the back of his neck. He leans into the touch. “We have to come up with something for Ferus, too,” Anakin reminds.
“I think you already did,” Ferus blurts, because it will be better to reveal this than to explain that he won’t need a fake name.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when you were on anesthesia, and a couple of times when you’ve been super fatigued, you’ve called me Fess.”
Anakin’s grin is massive. “Fess??”
“Yes. I wasn’t sure if you were thinking I was someone else at first, but then you kept doing it.”
“That’s a really cute name,” Anakin sparks.
Ferus feels his face go hot. He breaks eye contact and tries his best to keep the blooming blush from spreading.
“Fess,” Anakin says fondly. “I really like that.”
And Ferus had underestimated just how much Anakin would like that. They are enroute to the Lars now, but in the last hour alone, Anakin has looked for any opportunity to use the nickname. And though Ferus is secretly taking pleasure in the affectionate way Anakin says it, he wishes he had hadn’t mentioned it. Because to Anakin, it’s something that has brought them closer together, something more intimate between them that has formed.
And hasn’t it? Just as Ferus has made peace with leaving, he finds he is more willing to let himself be vulnerable with Anakin. Is the latter because of the former? Now that Anakin’s magical hugs have an expiration, Ferus finds he wants as many as he can get. Every touch is to be treasured. Every smile is to be cherished.
The trio are on foot, Akkani in tow in case Anakin gets tried or has trouble moving through the sands. . . and much to Anakin’s dismay, he’d had to climb aboard the eopie almost right away. Obi-Wan and Ferus have both noticed how quiet he’s been, even prior to having to give up on walking.
Obi-Wan knows what’s on his Padawan’s mind. He wants to be sensitive to his grief over Shmi, but his thoughts keep returning to Luke. Will Anakin detect a connection? Luke is not yet showing signs of Force-sensitivity, but Anakin is. . . Anakin – the Chosen One. It will work in their favor that Anakin has been mostly keeping himself closed off in the Force, and their saving grace will likely be that Anakin has no knowledge of having had any romantic or sexual partners, so he would not have any reason to suspect he’d fathered a child. . . but how Obi-Wan yearns to see the father with his child. . . He just wishes he could be honest; he hopes Anakin can someday learn the truth.
“You okay, baby?” Obi-Wan asks for the hundredth time.
“Yeah,” Anakin replies lifelessly from Akkani’s saddle, and he is okay – mostly. He’s feeling a bit overwhelmed that he’ll soon meet a family his mother adopted in his absence that is now absent of her. It doesn’t seem possible – that he’s on Tatooine, but she isn’t here. She’d always been here – waiting for him. . . and she’d waited until she died. Anakin doesn’t know if he’ll ever find acceptance, but he knows he can face this with Obi-Wan and Ferus by his side.
Anakin had been living moment to moment since he’d awoken in this new reality. With so little information about the present, and with such a heavy focus on his recovery, he’d hardly had time to process what the future might hold. His only goal had been to reunite with Obi-Wan, and now that he’s done that, and now that he has a place to call home, along with him and Ferus, today sort of feels like the first day of the rest of his life. . . and he’s surprised to find he’s perfectly content that this life won’t include stimulating flights across the galaxy or the execution of adrenaline-pumping missions. He feels relief that he no longer has to fight for justice and peace. . . or fight to prove himself – to anyone.
Anakin is full of sorrow for the tragic fate of the fallen Order, but he’d often felt alienated during his years at the Temple. He'd respected his Jedi peers, and he'd generally felt respected by them, but he did not always feel like they had faith in him. Because he was different. But now, Obi-Wan and Ferus are different, too, and he’s not once felt judged by them, but only loved and cared for. And even though he’s been told the galaxy is in ruin, Anakin feels like he finally has it all together. He finally knows who he is and who he wants to be; now that he’s had his turn to be rescued, the desire to be the hero isn't as strong.
Anakin holds his breath as the dome-shaped home comes into view. He will get through this with the support of his companions, but that doesn’t mean it will be easy. . . He wants to make a good first impression, but shamefully already feels tears forming behind his eyes.
Ferus notices.
Akkani rocks to a halt and lowers herself into the sands.
“I’ll let them know we’ve arrived. All right?” Obi-Wan strokes Anakin’s cheek. Anakin nods his response. “I’ll be right back.”
Ferus empathically lays a hand on Anakin’s forearm, and Anakin desperately grips that hand in return. Ferus doesn’t shy away this time; he wants to give Anakin what he needs in this difficult moment. He helps him off Akkani, their hands staying clasped, as they move towards Obi-Wan who is beckoning them over.
Anakin notes that the man that is introduced as his step-brother seems less than enthused to make his acquaintance. Anakin feels. . . tension. And from the woman called Beru, he feels fear. She is friendlier than her husband, though; she is lovely, but Anakin is troubled over their cautiousness with him. He tells himself it has nothing to do with his physical appearance, but that it is more about opening their home to three Jedi, which could compromise the safety of their young son. . .
And Anakin finally feels welcome when he meets the blue-eyed, blond baby boy. Luke immediately crawls over to him and reaches for him as if he knows him, and Anakin wants to scoop him up in his inhuman arms and kiss his chubby cheeks, but he isn’t sure Luke’s parents will find that acceptable.
So, he kneels, which proves to be a tricky position for his prosthetics on such a hard, unforgiving surface. But Beru joins him on the permacrete floor and holds her son upright on wobbly legs. She balances and releases him. The child giggles and tries to run in Anakin’s direction, but doesn’t make it before unintentionally plopping down on his diapered butt.
“Whoa!” Anakin chuckles as Beru helps her baby to stand once again. “You’re about as coordinated as I’ve been lately,” Anakin jokes. “It’s a challenge to learn how to walk, isn’t it?” he coos, and Luke babbles in response.
Luke’s short arms extend out, and as his mom holds him in place, Anakin does his very best to gently hold the babe’s tiny hands in his.
“Hi, little guy,” Anakin croons, and Luke replies sounding very much like he is greeting Anakin back. Anakin cackles. There are matching, unwavering smiles on the faces of both Skywalkers.
Anakin is trying to decipher the way his heart literally aches. How can such an interaction cause physical hurt? What is it about this meeting that feels so all-consuming? It’s as if this little baby has climbed into his heart and set off fireworks. Anakin knows, this is truly his family, even if not by blood, and he instantly loves this child, and has visions of watching him grow and play. And now there are three people in his new life that he can hold tight to: Obi-Wan, Ferus, and this darling boy.
“How are you, Luke?” Anakin sings as the little boy begins to bounce. Beru sets him free and leaves him in Anakin’s capable hands. “Wow! Look at you!” Anakin laughs joyfully. “Force, you’re so cute! I love you so much!” he bursts out, then eyes Beru uncomfortably.
Berus smiles. “He loves his uncle, too,” she affirms.
Anakin gives her a grateful glance, then shifts his focus back to Luke, who is now pumping his stubby legs harder than before. “Zoom! Zoom! Zoom!” Anakin narrates in time with the rhythm, further exciting the child. “Do you see this, Obi-Wan?!” Anakin scopes the perimeter when his Master doesn’t respond. Both Obi-Wan and Ferus aren’t there.
Beru had seen Obi-Wan dash from the room with Ferus trailing behind. “Owen asked him if he could tend to our sickly h’kak bean bush around back.”
“Oh. . . Okay.” And that makes sense, and that Ferus would assist as well. Anakin is content with this information mostly because he’s content in this moment with Luke – not even realizing that Owen is still present when he should have escorted his guests.
In a different part of the dwelling, Obi-Wan is desperately trying to collect himself. He hadn’t expected to get so emotional.
Ferus hadn’t expected to be coaching Obi-Wan’s breathing as opposed to Anakin’s. His hand is upon the man’s shoulder in support.
“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan blubbers as he wipes at his eyes. “It’s just. . . When Luke was born, I. . .”
“It’s okay,” Ferus promises. “You don’t have to explain. I understand.” He squeezes his arm.
Obi-Wan nods and snivels. “I just never thought I’d see this; I never thought my baby could have his baby, and it’s. . .”
“It’s beautiful,” Ferus finishes. “There’s already a connection, and I see the resemblance,” he remarks with a smile.
Obi-Wan smiles, too. “Yes.” He dries the last of his tears. “Thank you, my dear.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for. We’re all good here.” Ferus pats Obi-Wan’s back, and Obi-Wan tugs him into a hug. Ferus breathes him in and cradles him close. “You know it’s just a matter of time before he comes looking for us,” he relays quietly from over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Do you need to step outside?”
“No.” Obi-Wan pulls back from the embrace and rubs his eyes. “I’m okay.”
Just as soon as Ferus says it, Anakin surfaces. “Master?”
Obi-Wan works to compose himself and suppresses a sniffle.
“Are you all right??”
“Yes, love. Just fine,” Obi-Wan replies warmly.
“H’kak beans?? Are you sure it wasn’t jerà peppers?” Anakin queries humorously.
“What?” Obi-Wan is only momentarily caught off guard.
“The crop Owen wanted you to diagnose; your eyes are all red.”
Obi-Wan realizes an excuse had been made for him in his absence, and he is grateful. “H’kak, but with a powerful pesticide.”
“Ah. Zicx mites got it? Will it make it?”
“Oh, yes. It’ll be just fine; Beru caught it early.”
“That’s good. . . Luke loves me!” Anakin of course cares about his step-brother’s crop, but he can no longer contain his enthusiasm over his nephew.
Obi-Wan laughs. “Was there any doubt that he would?”
“I thought he might be scared of me,” Anakin admits, pointing to his face, then holding up his bionic hands.
“There’s nothing to be scared of, and I’m sure he can sense your goodness.” Obi-Wan places a palm to Anakin’s jaw.
“My mom would’ve adored him,” Anakin retorts sadly.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan agrees. He takes Anakin in his hold and eyes Ferus; it’s time they pay their respects.
“I’m ready,” Anakin mumbles miserably in his Master’s shoulder. “If you come with me, I can do this.”
“Yes, you can; I will be with you.” Obi-Wan kisses his forehead and takes him by the hand.
Anakin sucks in a breath and raises his free hand in invitation.
Ferus takes it.
And hand in hand in hand, the three set out to the memorial of Shmi Skywalker.
*
It had been a difficult funeral. As anticipated, Anakin had broken down, but though Obi-Wan and Ferus were ready and waiting, it was Owen and Beru who were better equipped to pick up the pieces; they could better relate with already having worked through some of their own grief over the woman who had been like a mother to them. . . a woman who deserved to watch their son – her grandson, thrive and grow.
The compassion Owen and Beru held for Anakin at the burial site helped to alleviate their tension with him in time for the planned family luncheon. And Anakin’s spirits were significantly lifted upon realizing Beru was in possession of his mother’s recipe book. Tasting Shmi’s cooking made it feel as if she were there with him after all.
Through the afternoon, Owen and Beru share heartwarming and funny stories that give Anakin not only a glimpse into how Shmi had spent her last decade, but also a look into the character of the man she’d married.
Anakin enjoys entertaining Luke into the evening – playing with him, holding him, cuddling him. . . and it is about the same time that both father and child begin yawning. But before departing for the night, Anakin is given the privilege of rocking his son to sleep and tucking him into his crib. . . and Obi-Wan has to step out of the room once again.
They are home at their cave dwelling now, and Anakin is hardly able to keep his eyes open; this might be the longest he’s stayed awake without a nap, but he is proud he’s been able to do so for his beloved nephew.
Anakin’s steps are heavy as he enters the shelter and throws himself down on the nearest pallet – Ferus’ pallet.
“You doing okay?” Ferus asks him.
“Yeah. I’m just tired. . . Sit with me?” Anakin requests.
“Sure,” Ferus agrees kindly. He perches on the edge of the mattress – it’s easier to do so outside of the tiny pilot’s bunk where the already-small bed was encased in a bulky wroshyr wood frame with a nonexistent head clearance above it.
In lieu of ‘sitting’ with him, Anakin lies down, head near, but not quite on Ferus’ lap. “I thought you wanted to sit,” Ferus chortles.
“I wanted you to sit,” Anakin relays lethargically.
“You’re gonna fall asleep,” Ferus warns, knowing Anakin would prefer the other pallet where he could rest plastered against Obi-Wan. The two could probably squeeze together on this cot-sized cushion, now that it was unrestricted, but it would still be a tight fit.
“Mm stay right here tonight,” Anakin informs sleepily, but casually.
“You want me to bunk with Obi-Wan?” Ferus replies equally mild.
“No,” Anakin responds without further explanation as he shuts his eyes. What he’d really like is for Ferus to lie here with him. He’d dropped the hint, but out of respect, he won't make the official, bold proposal. . . He works on the compromise instead, “You stay ‘til I fall asleep?”
Ferus sucks in his lips to hide his smile; it’s been a while since Anakin has asked this of him. “Yes,” he breathes tenderly. He’d like to stay after Anakin falls asleep. He’d like to stay forever. . . but he can’t.
Ferus shifts to assist Anakin in situating himself under the covers. He watches him settle, hugging the pillow with a soft, serene smile. Ferus feels a jolt of pain in knowing this will be his last night to see Anakin to sleep, and he feels a tad disappointed that he hadn’t gotten his usual goodnight hug first. He fights the urge to reach for Anakin, to rub his back or touch his face, rather just continues to stare at him.
When Anakin’s mechanical hand is suddenly, and innocently, upon Ferus’ thigh, Ferus intuitively takes the full prosthetic in two hands and gently glides his fingers down the length of it from forearm to wrist. He hears Anakin hum in satisfaction. “You can feel it?”
“Mmhm. Different than when you touch my skin, but still nice.”
“I think we’ve got most of the kinks worked out for touch, now we can do more thorough adjustments for feeling.”
“Tomorrow,” Anakin pushes out fatigued.
“All right,” Ferus whispers sadly. . . He’d almost forgotten there will be no tomorrow.
“But don’t stop. Please, Fess.”
Obi-Wan observes as Ferus sweetly massages Anakin’s arm with such meticulous love and care. He’d noticed Ferus had exhibited much physical love today. . . and Obi-Wan knows it is his way of saying goodbye.
Obi-Wan doesn’t want Ferus to leave, but he’s decided he isn’t going to try to force him stay. Seeing Anakin work through his grief with Owen and Beru today helped him to realize that it’s important for Ferus do the same. It had not been long at all since Roan had passed, and there are others that were close to him that Ferus needs to connect with. Here, Ferus isn’t dealing with the loss; he is using Anakin to distract himself from it, but that doesn’t mean Ferus isn’t where he wants to be.
Obi-Wan knows Ferus is deeply in love with Anakin, but he also knows he is still deeply in love with his husband, whom he has not yet taken the time to process is gone. Obi-Wan knows both him and Anakin will need to let him go to do so.
This will be undoubtedly devastating for Anakin. Obi-Wan is aware he had envisioned the three of them playing house, and in truth, Obi-Wan had liked the idea as well; he’s been alone for what feels like an eternity, when in reality, it has only been a little over a year. Ultimately, he cares for Ferus, too, and wants him with them just as much as Anakin does.
Obi-Wan can see that Anakin is already sound asleep, but Ferus continues stroking his arm soothingly. He studies what he can see of Ferus’ face – his body language. . . Here is a man torn apart, pulled in two different directions. Pulled to live two different lives.
“Tomorrow,” Ferus suddenly calls out. He doesn’t have to look up to know Obi-Wan has been watching him.
Obi-Wan doesn’t even flinch. He makes not a sound nor a movement. He waits.
“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. I have to.” Ferus’ head is still down, still cradling the prosthetic, but no longer massaging it. “I have to. . .” he repeats weakly.
A sock-footed Obi-Wan takes slow, silent steps toward the pair.
“I. . . It’ll be a good thing, for all of us. I can report back to base, make sure Garen is healing well, check on Trever, and you and Anakin can have your time together.” Ferus is now holding Anakin’s hand, delicately tracing the lines of the intricate joints. “I’m just in the way – Anakin will realize once I’m gone. He’ll be fine,” Ferus rambles, trying to fill the quiet void.
Obi-Wan brushes silver strands from Ferus’ eyes, but they fall right back into place, as Ferus still hasn’t looked up. So, Obi-Wan takes a seat on the stone floor, maneuvering as close to Ferus as he can be without sitting on the mattress with him.
“I’ve done what I was meant to do,” Ferus continues. “I helped him. Now, I need to see what’s next. There’s still so much to be done – other Jedi to find, missions against the Empire to complete. I know we’ve sort of put the rebellion on hold, but I can start up my business again – just me,” he adds shakily. “And I’d like to check in with. . . If I can get back on Bellassa, I’d like to see. . . my in-laws,” he phrases the sentence in a way to avoid saying his deceased husband’s name. Now he feels Obi-Wan’s hand on his back, and as he lightly rubs it, the circular motion acts as a metaphorical spoon to stir his emotions, causing Ferus to let out a loud sob. He carefully lowers Anakin’s arm to the mattress, then slips down onto the ground with Obi-Wan, covering his face with his hands.
Obi-Wan hears him hiccup as he surrounds Ferus in a tight hold.
“Obi-Wan,” Ferus cries aimlessly.
“I know,” Obi-Wan says in understanding. “I know, darling,” he soothes in his ear.
Ferus’ voice is muffled in Obi-Wan’s chest. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I have to do something.” Obi-Wan stays silent, but Ferus wants him to speak – anything that will prevent him from the outburst he knows he’s about to have; he can feel it welling up, “I miss Roan!!” he cries out.
Obi-Wan’s own eyes burn. He rests his chin atop Ferus’ head. “Oh, my dear, I know. I know you do; I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.”
“Anakin. . . he makes me feel. . . With Anakin, I’ve been able to. . . But now. . . I just can’t do this anymore!” Ferus bawls.
“It’s all right, love. It’s all right. If you need to go, it’s all right,” Obi-Wan consoles. “And let me apologize for my initial reaction this morning.” His fingers thread through Ferus’ hair as he still holds him snug to his chest. “It was not my intent to try to guilt you into staying, and especially not for my benefit. Anakin will be all right. On my honor, I will do my very best to take care of him as well as you have.”
“I don’t want to abandon him, but—”
“You’re not,” Obi-Wan promises. “You are absolutely not. You’ve taken such wonderful care of him, but you need to take care of yourself now; don’t leave for the rebellion, the Jedi, or whatever else you think you have to do – leave for YOU. I do believe it would be wise for you to visit your family; I think enough time has passed that you'll be able to get back on Bellassa without interference. So, go, sweetheart. Go and take all the time you need to grieve what you lost. You must honor your husband in that way.”
“I loved him,” Ferus weeps.
“I know. I know you still do.”
“I do,” Ferus chokes out wrecked. “He was mine, and I was his – he took care of me. . . I need him to come back.”
Tears streak over Obi-Wan’s cheeks. He understands this level of grief – the feeling of a loss so great, you feel as if a part of you has died along with them. Every day he counts his blessings that Anakin has returned to him, but it was not possible for Roan to return to Ferus, and what made the situation all the more complex was that it was Anakin who had taken Roan from him. “I wish I could bring him back to you like you brought Anakin back to me.” Obi-Wan doesn’t know if that provides any comfort, but he means it with every fiber of his being. If there were any way to protect Ferus from this pain, a way to mend this insurmountable, gaping wound, he would do so without question.
Ferus’ form still quakes in Obi-Wan’s hold. “I want him back,” he wails. “I need him back, Obi-Wan. I’d do anything!”
Obi-Wan shushes him, still gripping him mightily. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
“I’m not,” Ferus sputters. “It’s not okay.”
And that is the truth, but Obi-Wan wishes it were okay; though, he does think Ferus is already on the path to healing by taking this next step.
Ferus’ cries have mostly subsided as Obi-Wan’s hand repetitively travels the long length from Ferus’ nape, down to his back, his other arm secured around his waist.
“I want to stay, but I can’t.”
“I really do understand, love. I do.”
“I don’t know who I am without him, but I’m afraid of who I’ll be without Anakin. . . Before he came into my life I. . . I wasn’t all right – I’m still not all right, but I was. . . Palpatine had offered to help me tap into my rage – to get revenge, and I. . . I wasn’t myself.”
Obi-Wan feels chills.
“If Anakin hadn’t come along. . .”
“I’m so glad he did. I’m so glad the two of you have had this chance to get to know one another.”
“I don’t want to leave him, and I’m scared of what will happen if I go, but right now I’m more scared to stay.”
“Why?” Obi-Wan asks at a whisper. “Tell me what makes you scared to stay.”
“Anakin,” Ferus huffs out. “He makes me feel. . . What I’m feeling is wrong,” he decides.
And this confirms what Obi-Wan had already known. “I don’t believe that,” he replies passionately. “Listen.” He prompts Ferus to look at him, then cups his face in his hands. “Listen to me. There’s something I need you to understand: having feelings for Anakin doesn’t mean you love Roan any less – it doesn’t mean you betray him.” Obi-Wan sees Ferus’ pained eyes widen. His brows furrow in confusion. “It’s okay, if you’re not ready to act on those feelings; it’s okay if you never do, but don’t think for a moment what you’re feeling is wrong. Never reprimand yourself for your feelings.”
Fresh tears emerge; it’s something Roan would often scold him for. Roan would accuse him of ‘setting the bar too high.’ Roan was the one who’d taught him that it was okay to make mistakes – that he didn’t have to be perfect. . . even though his husband would always assure him he was anyway. Roan had loved him in spite of all his flaws, and Ferus had felt that if Roan loved him, then he could surely love himself, but with Roan gone. . .
“Don’t make the same mistakes I did,” Obi-Wan reinforces. “As Jedi, we were taught it was how we dealt with our feelings that mattered – never to suppress them. Don’t focus on what you feel proper or appropriate. Focus on what’s in your heart. Promise me you will do that while you’re away.” Obi-Wan smiles as his thumbs pass over Ferus’ cheeks before releasing the tear-stained face. “Focus on you. Discover what’s in your own heart, break it down, organize those thoughts – as you tend to organize everything else,” he teases.
Ferus lets out a stuffy laugh.
“And just know that I will continue to be here for you; I do understand what you’re going through, to a degree. I know a thing or two about having conflicted feelings for Anakin,” Obi-Wan alerts slyly. “I’ve loved him when he was too young. I’ve loved him when he’s only had love for someone else. I loved him when he turned Sith. It’s never been the right time, until now. And maybe someday there will be a right time for you and Anakin as well, but it’s also okay to remain friends.”
“I don’t understand, Obi-Wan. Are you saying you would condone me having feelings for the same man you have feelings for? You would step aside if I were to pursue a relationship with him?”
“If that was what Anakin wanted, but I know our boy well enough to know he wants it all – and I love him enough to give that to him. You have to decide if that’s something you could give to him as well. But most importantly, you have to decide what’s right for you, and you need to take this time to figure that out. I promise Anakin isn’t going anywhere – he’s loyal, and if he loves you, he will always love you, and I’m certain he loves you, Ferus. It’s easy to see.”
Ferus is stunned, but he also feels a wave a relief. He hadn’t even allowed himself to entertain the idea of having these feelings for Anakin – mostly because of Roan, but also because it had been clear Anakin was in love Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan in love with Anakin; he hadn’t thought there room for him in that equation.
Obi-Wan takes Ferus’ hands. “I feel a peace I haven’t known in ages, and I have you to thank for that. I feel everything is going to be all right. Whatever you need, whatever you do, you’ll be okay, and so will we.”
Ferus falls forward into Obi-Wan’s embrace again.
“I’ll help you break the news to him. I’ll support you. I’ll back you up, but don’t think for a second we don’t want you here or it’s better if you’re not here. What we do want is for you to do what you need to do. All right?”
Ferus nods his understanding and appreciation in Obi-Wan’s pectorals, then looks back at Anakin and sniffles. A large portion of confusion miraculously feels sorted out. . . but overall, his emotions are still running haywire. “I have to go,” he reiterates with more certainty, but with even greater sadness.
“Okay,” Obi-Wan concurs hushed. “We’ll be here for you no matter what. You can always come back to us – anytime, and if you need us to come to you, we’ll be there. . . Anakin will probably get stir crazy after a while anyway,” he jokes in hopes to get a smile.
It has the opposite effect, “It sounds like he wants to settle down – his talk of getting a job.”
“I’ll make sure he’s safe,” Obi-Wan reassures. “If he really wants to work, I’ll make sure it’s out of the public eye.”
Ferus nods and wipes at his eyes.
“And until we have more information, I’ll make sure he stays out of the sun.” Obi-Wan is gleaming like the sun as he ruffles Ferus’ hair.
Ferus does smile now, shyly. His eyes fix on Anakin yet again; he’ll miss watching him sleep – so peaceful. . . so beautiful. He’ll miss taking care of him. He’ll miss talking with him, laughing with him. He’ll miss his pitiful pout and powerful hugs. How had he gotten so attached?
Ferus lets out an unsteady breath. “I’ll miss you, too, you know, not just Anakin.”
“I know, precious. And I you.”
Notes:
Like the song says. . .
'Blind to the gemstone alone
a smile from a frown circles round
should he stay or should he go?'I'd love to know your thoughts ❤️
There's an Obi-Wan/sun simile here at the end, but there is a camouflaged, dual-meaning metaphor in the beginning of the chapter that I am stupid proud of lol.
Thank you for waiting for this next chapter so patiently - thank you for reading 💕
Chapter 16
Notes:
Greetings! Another long chapter, because sad things happen, and I couldn't conclude without some happy things first taking place 😆
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In the morning, Ferus pretends it’s the start of a normal rotation, initiating Anakin’s recovery routine as he always does. But soon, Dona will arrive to pick him up and take him away; she is already on-world, waiting for his signal.
The night before, Ferus had told Obi-Wan that Dona would come for him, and that he’d leave his ex-imperial craft on Tatooine; it is important that Anakin still have a place for sanitization and wound care in a sand-free environment.
Ferus has already helped Anakin into the bacta bath – for the last time. He’ll soon apply his ointment for the last time, and he’ll assist him with one final round of therapy. . . then, Ferus will make his exit.
Ferus knows once Anakin learns he is leaving, he won’t want to let him go – literally. And Ferus does not have the capability to push him away, and he doesn’t want to make this harder on either one of them. As a result, he and Obi-Wan had agreed, they would wait up until the very last moment to tell Anakin of his plans to depart.
Anakin has had a good morning. He’s in a particularly jolly mood after having spent the prior evening with his newfound family. He’s talked about Luke several times during the therapy session, and has inquired about how soon is too soon to visit him again.
After a final lap around the perimeter of the cavern, Ferus prompts Anakin to rest. He directs him to one of the bench-like boulders, and Ferus settles on a stone seat across from him. When Obi-Wan slides in right next to him, Anakin tenses; something feels off. . . Both Ferus and Obi-Wan are acting odd.
“Were we gonna work on those sensors for feeling now?” Anakin tries nervously. . . Something definitely isn’t right.
Ferus’ smile does not reach his eyes. “Obi-Wan is going to help you with that later today. I. . . there’s something I need to talk with you about.”
“What’s wrong?” Anakin asks sadly, because Ferus looks sad, too.
“Nothing is wrong, but plans have changed.”
“Changed how?”
“Do you remember the rebel base I was telling you about? The safe haven in the asteroid?”
“Yeah. Where the Eleven is – Garen, too. Did something happen? Is everyone okay?”
“They’re okay, but. . . I’m needed there.” Ferus sees him registering this. He rushes an explanation before Anakin can speak. “Things have been on hold for a while now, and it’s time to make some decisions about how we’ll move forward.”
“Well, you don’t need to go there for that, right? Can’t they just send you an encrypted message about what’s next? Why would you have to go?”
“Well, I’m. . . kind of the one who decides what’s next, so it’s important that I be there. I’m actually one of the founders of the group.”
Anakin’s face brightens in surprise. “You’re the leader??”
Ferus smiles in spite on himself. “I suppose you could say that.”
Anakin is impressed. “So, it’s time to induct some new members, then?” he prompts pridefully. “That’s what this is about? When do we leave? Will we be gone long? I want to see Luke before we go.”
When Ferus doesn’t immediately reply, Anakin’s face falls; he already knows what Ferus will say, but Ferus has to say it anyway, “It’s best if you and Obi-Wan stay here for now.”
“No.” Anakin shakes his head. “Why? No.” His head is still shifting from side to side. “We need to stay together. We’ll go with you. Obi-Wan and I will go with you. We can go with him, right, Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan strokes Anakin’s shoulder. “You and I need to stay here for now, sweetheart,” he echoes Ferus’ words to reinforce.
This doesn’t make sense. Anakin has been cleared for travel. Obi-Wan’s mission on Tatooine is complete. The only reason to stay behind is. . . is if Ferus doesn’t want him to go. “Ferus, if I. . . I’m sorry,” Anakin sniffles. “Please don’t go. I’ll start doing more for myself; I won’t be so—I didn’t mean t—”
“Hey, no, that’s not it.” Ferus takes Anakin’s hands in his. “It’s nothing you did or didn’t do. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he promises. “There’s just some things I need to take care of.”
“Does it have to be now? We just got here. I—” Anakin’s hates how his voice is coming out in a high-pitched whine as he desperately fights tears.
“It does need to be now,” Ferus confirms gently. “But this will give you some private time with Obi-Wan, and you don’t want to be away from Luke so soon.”
“But if you’re not here, how. . . How long will you be gone?”
“I’m not sure, but you can comm if there’s an emergency.”
“What if I just want to talk to you?” Anakin proposes pitifully.
Ferus’ arms open on reflex, Anakin falling forward into them.
“We need to stay together; there’s so few of us left,” Anakin persists from Ferus’ hold.
Ferus doesn’t argue, because he doesn’t disagree. Hadn’t he told Obi-Wan something similar when he’d been trying to get him to accompany him to Coruscant? It’s hard to find reason when he’s so conflicted himself, so he says nothing, just cradles Anakin close and strokes the stubble of fresh hair growth along the back of his skull.
Obi-Wan knows Ferus is currently having difficulty finding logic in his own choice, so he intercedes. He replaces the hand that had been upon Anakin’s shoulder. “We must be understanding, my love. Ferus still feels a duty to the Jedi, but he also has a duty to family – same as you.”
Anakin pulls back from the embrace and rapidly blinks. His face sparks in realization, then he looks at Ferus guiltily. This isn’t about him – it’s about Roan. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive,” Anakin pouts.
“You aren’t,” Ferus gets out hoarse. . . This sweet boy of a man is anything but insensitive.
“I just don’t want you to go,” Anakin lets out pained.
I don’t want to go either, Ferus doesn’t say. “We’ll see each other again.”
“You make it sound like it’ll just be in passing – by chance, as if you don’t plan to come home.”
‘Home.’ Ferus has a home. . . This isn’t it. “When the time is right, you and Obi-Wan can come to Bellassa for a visit.”
A visit? Anakin tries not to look so destroyed, but he feels himself crumbling; Ferus doesn’t want to come back. He doesn’t want what Anakin wants. Anakin had felt their time together impactful. He’d thought he’d felt something between them, but it seemed Ferus was just being Ferus – doing the right thing – doing the good deed. He’d rescued Anakin, saw him well, and returned him to his Master like a lost puppy. His mission was complete, and Ferus wanted to move on. He didn’t want to be with Anakin; Ferus wanted to be with Roan, and since Ferus can’t be with Roan, he’ll be close to him in the only way he can – through the likes of his family on Bellassa.
Despite his best efforts, tears streak over Anakin’s cheeks. At the goodbye? At the rejection? At the helplessness he feels in being able to save Ferus from the pain of his great loss? Or was it the shame in wanting Ferus all to himself? Anakin isn’t sure. He just wishes things were different.
At the presence of those marble-sized droplets littering Anakin’s face, Ferus wants to take it all back. He wants a do-over. He wants to erase the last few minutes and instead tell Anakin everything is all right and he’s not going anywhere. . . But he has to go. He has to be strong.
“I’m sorry.” Anakin wipes his eyes in frustration, his unnatural hand no longer equipped to successfully complete the simple task.
Ferus wipes Anakin’s face with his sleeve. “You don’t have to be sorry.” Ferus is sorry. And Ferus wants to cry, too.
The sound of a ship can be heard from outside; Anakin looks to Ferus in horror.
“That’s Dona,” Ferus explains softly. “You and Obi-Wan will keep the ship here.”
“You’re leaving now??!” Anakin involuntarily shrieks. “Right this minute?! You won’t even stay one more day??”
“Sweetheart,” Obi-Wan tries again. “This isn’t your decision to make.”
“I know,” Anakin answers with a lump in his throat. “I just. . . I know. Thank you,” he tells Ferus more formally. “Thank you for. . . everything.” He swallows hard. “I’d probably be dead if it weren’t for you. I. . . Thank you for taking care of me the last few weeks, for giving me food and shelter. . . for getting me back to Obi-Wan. I know you’ve already done way more than you had to, and I’m grateful. This wasn’t supposed to be. . . I know y— Thank you. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
“Anakin,” Ferus starts sorrowfully.
“Go,” Anakin absolves. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I let myself get attached.” He lets out a little ironic and tearful laugh. “It was silly. We weren’t even friends before – not really. It’s. . . You did what you had to do – what a Jedi would do.”
Of course it wasn’t like that. Ferus wants to set the record straight – to tell Anakin that he means everything to him, but words like those are reserved for Roan. “I wanted to do it,” Ferus decides. “And we are friends, okay? I care about you, Anakin. I always have.”
Anakin doesn’t meet his gaze, but looks at his lap as he nods his acknowledgement.
Dona is now peering into the cave, carrying a large food container that is likely full of soup.
“Come on in,” Obi-Wan greets when he spots her. He rises to assist with the load she is hauling. “We aren’t armed.” The joke is in reference to when she and Obi-Wan had originally met in Arno; Obi-Wan had been searching for Ferus, but Dona had found him first. . . and had held a blaster rifle to his back in defense.
Dona cackles. “So nice to see you again.” She hugs Obi-Wan’s neck.
Ferus reluctantly tears himself away from Anakin.
“Fairy,” Dona sings when she sees him. They embrace as well.
Anakin stays sitting, weeping. How can this be happening so fast?
“And you. . .”
Anakin sees Dona’s feet come into view as he blots his face with Ferus’ handkerchief.
Dona takes the empty seat across from him. “You don’t call; you don’t write,” she feigns disapproval, then touches Anakin on the knee and her words turn warm, “How you doing, lovebug?”
“Not the greatest,” Anakin admits with a congested laugh. “I’m sorry.” He looks up at Dona and the woman’s eyes widen.
“Well, look at you!” Dona gushes and takes Anakin’s face in her hands. “You’d think months had passed! You’re healing so well! Incredibly well!” She plants a loud kiss to his cheek.
Anakin reddens and chuckles. Dona helps him to rise as she wraps him in her hold.
“I brought you some soup. Could last you through the night or into next year depending on how hungry you are.”
Anakin laughs modestly again. “Thank you.”
“Of course. . . You better keep in touch this time,” Dona playfully scolds. Anakin nods his compliance. “And don’t worry about your friend. I’ll keep a close watch.”
Anakin sniffles in response.
Ferus resists the urge to cry as he watches Anakin start up again. While Dona visits a moment more, Ferus migrates to his former ship to retrieve the luggage he’d packed the night before.
When he steps off the ramp and back into the sand, he sees Obi-Wan has gotten Anakin into his robe and out of the shelter. Anakin looks better composed, Obi-Wan’s arm clasped around him protectively.
“It was so nice to see you again,” Obi-Wan tells Dona. “And thank you very much for the lifetime supply of soup.” The two partake in friendly and light-hearted conversation while Anakin and Ferus look at one another, silent and straight-faced.
“Thank you,” Anakin mutters again.
Ferus is disturbed at the formality. He moves to hug Anakin, but it’s not one of his usual snow-melting hugs. It’s stiff. Lifeless. Anakin is already pulling away from him. And that was the intent, wasn’t it? Let Anakin go now – let him down gently now, the alternative being a more catastrophic separation down the road. “You don’t have to thank me,” Ferus reminds. “I wanted to do it. Okay?”
No. To Anakin, this is definitely not okay. But Obi-Wan had asked him to be supportive – told him Ferus had had a difficult time making this decision and to try not to make him feel badly for it.
Ferus releases him from their awkward, final hug. Anakin folds his arms and keeps his head low, but discreetly watches as Ferus bids his Master goodbye.
Their embrace is fierce. Obi-Wan holds Ferus tenderly, the way he tends to hold Anakin. Ferus is turned away, and Anakin wonders what his hidden expression looks like. When he lifts his head, Obi-Wan frames his face and places a sweet kiss to his forehead. Now, Anakin wishes he hadn’t been so bitter and had allowed for a hug like that one. Then maybe he could’ve given Ferus a goodbye kiss, too, or maybe Ferus would’ve given him one, but it’s too late now. The damage is done between them.
Anakin is reminded of his past bitterness towards Ferus. At the conclusion of missions with him and Master Tachi, Anakin would rudely exit the ship without a word and walk in whatever direction was opposite of Ferus once they were dismissed from the chamber.
Anakin doesn’t want to be rude now, not after all Ferus has done for him. He doesn’t want to be the brat Ferus would remember from their youth. Why did he always give him such a hard time?
Anakin doesn’t let another second pass – he won’t be petty. He cares about Ferus way too much, and he’s going to miss him way too much to leave things this way. He hurriedly chases the few steps Ferus has taken towards the transport. He tugs his arm and yanks him in his hold to rival the hug his Master had given him.
And in the heat of the desert, this Anakin hug is a dip in a cool oasis. Ferus grips him. . . and wishes he didn’t have to let him go.
“I’ll miss you,” Anakin whispers.
Ferus sighs in relief. “I’ll miss you, too, Anakin,” he tells him emotionally.
Hands still clasped on one another’s shoulders, they share subtle smiles. Anakin leans forward, but in the end, decides he doesn’t feel right about mimicking Obi-Wan’s forehead kiss – it was a very Obi-Wan thing to do, and Anakin isn’t sure it would be appropriate coming from him.
Ferus touches Anakin’s face gently. “Take care of yourself. Please,” he only slightly begs.
“I will.” Anakin finally shows him a more genuine grin.
“Bye,” Ferus says quietly.
“Bye, Fess.”
Ferus halts. He looks at Anakin longingly before forcing himself to turn away.
Obi-Wan comes to stand beside him as he and Anakin watch Ferus board the ship. Anakin maintains the mystical composure he’s found as it lifts off the ground. But when the craft is high enough in the air that he would be out of sight, Anakin begins sobbing.
Obi-Wan can relate to the shock; Anakin’s world has been turned upside down in mere minutes. He holds him close to his heart as his beautiful boy weeps for his lost love in his chest, massaging his neck through the thick fabric of the hood of the robe. “My sweet boy,” Obi-Wan coos. “We’re going to be all right.”
Anakin’s crying only intensifies. “He was just doing his duty,” he pushes out brokenly between gasps. “He was never going to stay with us.”
“Oh, baby,” Obi-Wan soothes. “Ferus is confused right now. He’s grieving. He’s lost his husband. He wanted to stay, darling, he told me so; he just needs time. You have to be patient.”
“He’s not coming back,” Anakin bawls.
Obi-Wan can’t debate it, because he isn’t sure. “We’ll see him again.”
“I don’t want to just see him again,” Anakin wails. “I. . . I want him. . . to be with us.” His wet eyes meet Obi-Wan’s dubiously. “Master, I. . .”
“You love him,” Obi-Wan states plainly. “You fell in love with him.”
Anakin doesn’t have to confirm it; of course Obi-Wan had figured it out. “I thought he might love me, too,” Anakin snivels.
“I think he does, baby, but he’s mourning the man he loved first. You have to try to understand.”
“I do. . . I just. . . I wanted him to stay, and I’m going to miss him so much.”
“I’ll miss him, too. I love him, too. He brought you back to me. I can never repay him for the precious gift he’s given me.” Obi-Wan holds Anakin’s tear-stained face between his palms.
“I am yours, Obi-Wan. Even if I love Ferus – I love you.”
Obi-Wan smiles. “I love you, too.”
“I just thought we could all be together.” Anakin hangs his head.
“Perhaps someday we can be. Until then, let me take care of you for a while, huh?”
Anakin nods weakly, then dives back into Obi-Wan’s embrace.
*
Ferus isn’t crying, not really. Crying would involve some sort of sound – whimpering, panting, or even sniffling, but there’s none of that. His eyes are incessantly wet, but these definitely aren’t tears. No, it’s more like his eyes are watering. Yes. Ferus’ eyes are watering. And there are many different factors that could trigger a physical reaction such as this. . . atmospheric change. . . fatigue. . . something on the ship he’s allergic to. . .
Ferus knows Dona isn’t buying it. He’s torn with wanting her company and wanting to keep to himself, because the journey to the asteroid base is long. . . So, Ferus uses the time to focus on what he’ll do once he arrives there. He focuses on the reunions he’ll have; he is looking forward to seeing some of his friends again.
The only remaining members of the Eleven, other than Dona and himself, are Wil Asani and Amie Antin. Both of them are expected to be on base. Wil had been back on Bellassa, but was making the voyage to bring Ferus proper ID docs so that he may to return to their home planet when he was ready. Amie had already been stationed there to oversee Garen Muln’s medical care; the Jedi Master had been near death before Ferus had rescued him on Ilum, and Ferus was eager to see how he was recovering. Ferus would also be reunited with Toma and Raina, the two former resistance leaders from Acherin that were now the official stewards of the asteroid base.
Ferus needs this. He needs to reconnect with his old life, painful as it may be. He needs to feel like he’s part of something again – something bigger. He’d gone from Jedi Padawan, to business owner, to solider, resistance hero. . . imperial agent. . . It had been quite the change of pace to be known solely as Anakin’s caretaker. Though Ferus does not regret his days on neither Toloran nor Tatooine, it’s time to move forward.
After piloting through the atmospheric storm, with the beacon from Toma and Raina leading their way into the migrating force field, Ferus and Dona finally land upon the orbiting rock. And Ferus is stunned that the very first person he sets his sights upon is Astri Oddo.
It was Astri’s young son, Lune, that Ferus had encountered in the medical facility the day he’d found Anakin. Linna and Trever had returned Lune to his mother safely, while Ferus and Jenna had moved on with Anakin. Dona had just revealed on the flight over that a romance had unexpectantly bloomed between Astri and Ferus’ longtime ally, Clive Flax. Clive had since taken the mother and son, and Trever, to reside on his homeworld of Belazura. . . Ferus hadn’t expected Astri here, or Lune for that matter, but Ferus sees the little boy racing ahead of his mom towards him, his dark, curly hair blown back and bouncing, showcasing a grand smile upon his face.
“Master Ferus! You’re back!” Lune exclaims gleefully.
Ferus feels a piece of his joy restored. He stoops down to greet the 8-year-old child. “Hey, buddy. I didn’t expect you and your mom to be here.” Ferus gives him a hug, then rises to meet Astri’s intense gaze. He attempts to embrace her as well, but she almost seems spooked, and freezes up. Ferus looks into her inquisitive eyes once more.
“Is it true?” Astri asks critically.
Ferus cocks his head in question.
“Dona said. . . Were you with. . . Obi-Wan?”
Ferus softens. “Yes,” he confirms. “He’s alive. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, but—”
“No, I understand. You couldn’t.”
“I couldn’t.” The repeated words fade out. Ferus senses something in Astri; her relief that Obi-Wan is alive is greater than that of just an old friend she hasn’t seen in years.
Clive now approaches. Ferus wants to express his gratitude for what he’s done – not only looking after Astri, but for caring for her child whose father had turned out to be a conniving, treacherous miscreant, and for taking on the responsibility to care for another child – a misunderstood, orphaned teenager, who meant a great deal to Ferus.
“It’s true,” Astri tells Clive emotionally. “Obi-Wan is alive.”
Clive quickly greets Ferus, then communicates with an expression that says there is much to say that can’t be said now. He leads an overwhelmed Astri away as Ferus watches puzzled.
And there is Trever. He stands several feet away, motionless with what he thinks is an unreadable face; Trever will always try to act unphased, but Ferus can see his underlying smile beneath the cocky smirk. Ferus opens his arms, and Trever lazily steps forward and into his hold.
“How are you?” Ferus feels Trever settle into his affectionate squeeze.
“Adjusting to having parents again,” Trever jokes.
Ferus grabs him by the shoulders and raises a brow. “You aren’t giving them a hard time?” he checks sternly.
“No,” Trever indicates simply.
It’s the truth; Ferus can feel the peace within Trever – he can feel the love he has for his new, adopted family.
“I really don’t mind. . . You know, like having rules and stuff now. . . I sort of. . . like it.”
Ferus nods his understanding.
“I wanted to talk to you before I left with them – ask you what you thought about it first, but. . .”
“I think you made a good decision. What? Did you want to go back to sleeping in the alley behind my office?” Ferus teases.
Trever sucks in his lips. “No, not exactly, but. . . You’re never gonna stay in one place too long, are you?”
“It’s unlikely. But I’m always here for you if you need me. Always.”
Trever smiles. “How’s Anakin?”
“He’s. . . good. Doing better. Walking better.” This isn’t a topic Ferus can handle right now. “What, um. . . ? What are you even doing here?” he chuckles. “All of you. . . There isn’t trouble on Belazura?”
“No.” Trever scrunches one side of his face. “We wanted to see you, dummy.”
Ferus lets out a loud and soul-cleansing cackle.
“That’s why we came back,” a melodious voice calls out.
Ferus looks up to see two renegade Jedi that he’d connected with since the purge, Ry-Gaul and Fy-Tor Ana, who now went by the name of Solace.
Solace is relieved to see light in Ferus’ eyes where she had last seen darkness. Their prior encounter had been just after Roan’s death, and it had been brief, but she’d seen how Ferus, beyond his grief, had not been himself. She’d wanted to warn him of the slippery slope on the edge of vengeance, but there had not been an opportunity to do so, and when Ferus had run back to the Empire, Solace had feared the worse. But it seemed the Force had mercifully intervened. “You’re Ferus again,” she acknowledges contentedly.
“I’m trying to be,” Ferus confesses.
“You are.”
“Linna and Tobin couldn’t make it,” Ry-Gaul informs. “They send their best.”
Ferus shakes his hand. “Please tell them I said hello. . . You’re staying with them again?”
Ry-Gaul nods in the affirmative. “And they also extend their thanks for your assistance in seeing Linna to safety.”
“That was all Jenna; I just happened to be in the right place at the right time,” Ferus notes humbly.
“You often are.” Garen steps forward.
Ferus grins. He grips Garen’s hand and forearm. “It’s good to see you back on your feet.”
“It’s good to be back on my feet, and I’m ready for lift off. . . Ready for training. . . I will leave with Clive and Astri when they depart. We’ll have another Jedi in our midst before too long. Lune is ready.”
Surviving Jedi training the next generation. . . THIS was what had brought Ferus back here. And with each passing second, with each reunion, Ferus begins to feel a lightness he’d been lacking. The stack of permacrete blocks that had been slowly mortared to his back are being chiseled away.
“And you found another Jedi, I’m told. . . a crucial one. . . a chosen one. . .” Garen nudges.
And a fresh layer of plaster is applied and a new brick adhered. “Yes,” is all Ferus can manage. He’s already missing Anakin more than he’d like to admit. He hopes his face doesn’t betray his feelings, but then remembers he is in the presence of three other Jedi. They’ve likely already read him like an open book. He glances at Solace and knows it’s true.
“Trever told us he was badly wounded,” Garen validates in regret.
“Yes,” Ferus says again. “He’s doing much better now, but still not ready for excessive travel.” Because that’s why he’d left him behind.
“I can relate. . . and I’m sure, like me, Skywalker isn’t too keen on being grounded,” Garen adds with a twinge of humor.
“And how is our friend, Obi-Wan doing?” Ry-Gaul inquires.
Another brick cemented in place. “He’s doing well. . . Where are Toma and Raina? Wil and Amie?” Ferus asks in order to shift the subject. “The ones I expected to see are the only ones I don’t,” he chuckles.
Dona puts an arm around Ferus and leads him forward. “They are playing hosts and hostesses. . . getting ready for your homecoming. . . I hope you’re hungry,” she intones.
“More soup?” Ferus prods.
Dona swats at him, and Ferus ducks just in time. “You love my soup and you know it!”
Naturally, there was plenty of soup, but it was a small element of an entire fantastical feast. Ferus hadn’t expected there’d be a party waiting for him when he arrived on base, but it was just what he needed – time with his friends and loved ones. He needed the other Jedi to ground him, and Lune and Trever to warm his heart. He’d needed Dona’s wit and Astri’s kindness. It feels good to be back in the presence of these beloved misfits, but the absence of Roan is all around him. Ferus keeps expecting him to pop in, crack a joke, take him in his arms and kiss the side of his nose. They were supposed to come back here together.
The entire party of a baker’s dozen enjoy two fellowship-filled rotations before splitting off and returning to the places they call home. There hadn't actually been any 'next steps' to discuss as Ferus had told Anakin, their group no longer exactly a rebellion, but more just an alliance of enemies of the Empire in hiding. But they will keep in touch, and the asteroid base will remain a place of refuge for all.
As planned, Garen travels to Belazura with the Flax/Oddo/Flume bunch. Ry-Gaul voyages back to Mila where Linna and Tobin reside. Solace returns to Coruscant to join Dex and the rest of the Erased. Wil and Amie head for Bellassa. . . along with Dona. . . and Ferus. . . and Ferus is nervous. . . Home won’t be home without Roan.
*
A week has passed since Ferus’ departure. Anakin and Obi-Wan have settled into their own routine, but Anakin remains unsettled.
It is the evening, and the two are aboard Ferus’ former cruiser. Anakin has had his standard shower, and Obi-Wan has just applied his nighttime layer of healing salve. He sits upon the circular dining bench while Anakin dresses.
“You still haven’t heard anything?”
Anakin’s question is sudden, but Obi-Wan doesn’t need clarification on what it is in reference to; he asks multiple times a day. . . He wants to know if Ferus has reached out. Obi-Wan only looks at his Padawan remorsefully.
Anakin frowns. “I’ve given up on the holocall, but I thought by now he would’ve at least sent a short message that says he’s safe,” he complains with upset in his tone. “Maybe we should reach out to him.”
“I’m not sure we should do that, love. It’s only been a week; let’s give him time. I’m sure he’s safe. He was traveling to the base and to Bellassa – there were many people he’d planned to get in contact with. That is a lot in itself without taking into account how busy he stays on his own.” Obi-Wan raises a brow and smirks.
Anakin has to smile at that. He sighs. “I miss him so much.”
“I know. I do, too.”
“Do you think he misses us?”
“Yes, sweetheart, I believe he does. I don’t think that’s the reason we haven’t heard from him. I’m sure he’s just keeping occupied, as I said. You know it’s probably very hard for him to be back on Bellassa.”
“We should’ve gone with him – to help him through it.”
“This is something he needs to do on his own.” Obi-Wan watches as Anakin finishes wiggling into his night clothes. “Come here.” Obi-Wan pats the spot next to him on the bench.
Anakin instead sits on his lap.
Obi-Wan’s arms come around him as he chuckles. “You don’t think you’ve gotten too big to sit on my lap this way?”
“I think I’m finally big enough where I can sit on your lap ‘this way.’”
“What way?” Obi-Wan breathes huskily.
“This way.” Anakin’s fingers nestle in Obi-Wan’s beard as he leans in close.
Obi-Wan takes in his Padawan’s lust-filled visage and runs a hand up his back.
Their parted lips meet as they share in a heated kiss.
*
Another week passes, and Obi-Wan can hardly bear the pitiful pout and frequent check of the comm device. And in truth, he's starting to feel a pinch of concern as well. He believes Ferus is fine, but would feel better if he had confirmation.
He decides to send a message that he’ll immediately delete, so Anakin won’t see that contact has been prompted.
"Hello, my darling. I hope you’re well. I don’t mean to be a bother while you’re taking this important time for yourself, but I wonder if you wouldn’t mind sending a quick message when you have a moment. . . something I can show him that says you’re safe; he worries, like someone else I know. Again, you don’t have to call, just a simple check-in would put him at ease. We both miss you."
On Bellassa, Ferus wouldn’t exactly say he’s doing ‘well.’
He’s busy.
He’s been staying at the most recently established safehouse of the Eleven. Dona is there with him. Wil and Amie are in and out. He’s been in and out. He spends time with the Lands family as planned. But mostly, he’s been hard at work to reestablish Olin and Lands as a reputable operation.
It does not prove easy with Lands gone and Olin having been presented as a traitor to his fellow Bellassans. But Ferus stays persistent; he makes his way to the different homes and businesses of the locals, providing an explanation for his brush with the Empire and vowing to earn their trust once more, instilling that he’s ready and willing to help anyone who has come under Imperial radar.
Ferus isn’t proud of the sympathy points he’s incurred, but just about everyone he engages with showers him with the pity he so despises. . . but it is working in his favor.
It is not yet safe to reopen the Olin and Lands office location, but despite the threat of haunting memories of his late spouse, Ferus has worked up the courage to return there, mostly to see if there are any files left after the building having been condemned by the Empire.
Like the business, the modest home Ferus had shared with Roan had also been ransacked by stormtroopers. But unlike the business, Ferus feels he could probably utilize the space once again without attracting any attention, but this is a scenario he’s not been brave enough to see through.
Ferus can’t even bring himself to pass by, let alone walk through the threshold of the house that he and Roan had together made into a home. How could he eat at the table where they once shared all their meals? Or sit on the couch where they use to cuddle and play? How could he ever sleep in their bed knowing it would not be with his back to his husband’s strong, broad chest?
Ferus knows he is supposed to be working through his grief while on Bellassa, but he holds the same goal he’d held on Toloran, and then on Tatooine: try not to think of Roan. But just as it had been on base – the absence of Roan is all around him. . . And he is surprised to find the same is true about Anakin.
Ferus had spent a little over two weeks with Anakin, and now just a little over two weeks without him. . . Things were supposed to get easier. But throughout each rotation, Ferus’ stubborn, broken brain consistently puts him in the mindset of the previous routine. He wakes in the morning with a sense of urgency to get Anakin into the bacta bath. He checks the clock in the afternoon and immediately frets that Anakin has missed therapy. In the evening, he reminds himself that he’ll soon need to have Anakin shower so he can aid him in his ointment application before he gets too tired. And all through the night, Ferus awakes and starts to check on Anakin. . .
But Anakin isn’t there.
It is just before midnight when Obi-Wan’s message comes through. Ferus had been up, fighting the usual mind tricks and craving sleep.
When he sees who the correspondence is from, his heart races, but slows to a more normal pace when the words don’t give any evidence of issue. . . Anakin wants to hear from him. And Ferus very much wants to oblige.
The confliction regarding Anakin that was supposed to be all but gone by this point, is now ever present with a whole new set of questions, and an ultimate decision to make.
Obi-Wan had given him his blessing; Ferus can have a relationship with Anakin if he so chooses. But Ferus is pretty certain that’s not what he wants, though he wants Anakin in his life. . . But is that fair to Anakin? Wouldn’t it confuse him to keep the line of communication open? Perhaps it would be better to cut ties.
Ferus doesn’t know what’s best, but he knows what he wants for the moment – he wants to talk to Anakin; he doesn’t want to just send him a message. He wants to call. And it will be a long night in waiting to do so until morning.
Ferus spends the night dreaming of Anakin’s voice. He rehearses what he wants to say; he needs to make the call informational, and not emotional. It won’t do to let Anakin know how badly he misses him, because if Anakin suggests he return to Tatooine, he might just do it.
Ferus hits the comm frequency seven minutes past oh-eight-hundred. . . not wanting it to seem as if he was waiting for the top of the hour to arrive.
The call would be untraceable, and unrecognized by Obi-Wan and Anakin, so, Ferus speaks first when the connection is established.
“It’s me. . .”
“Hey!!” Anakin shouts startled.
A grin overtakes Ferus’ face and he fumbles over his speech.
“Fess??”
Ferus feels tingles. “I’m here,” he returns serenely. “Is Ben there, too?” He uses the alias just in case.
“I’m here. . . Hello, darling,” Obi-Wan greets in his silky Coruscanti speak.
“Hi. . .”
“We were hoping you’d call. . . Thank you for the call. . . Can we—? Can we switch to holo so I can see you?” Anakin requests timidly.
“Uh, actually. . . my projector stopped working.” It’s a lie – another to add to the pile, but Ferus can’t see Anakin right now, and he can’t let Anakin see him.
“Oh.” Anakin is disappointed. “Did you check the backlight fuse?”
“Yeah. . . I don’t. . . I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“I bet. . . if we were together, I could fix it for you.”
“I’m sure you could,” Ferus agrees adoringly.
“For now, I’m just glad to be able to hear your voice,” Anakin reveals sweetly. “How are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Ferus fibs again. “I’m well.” The latter statement is a tad more honest. “How are you?” he grills. “Have you been keeping up with your bacta treatments and salve applications?”
“Uh huh. All good.”
“No tightness in the chest?”
“No.”
“Frequent coughing?”
“I do still cough at times, but it’s improved, I think.”
“It has,” Obi-Wan assures, tickled over Ferus’ line of questioning; it is beyond endearing the way he fusses over Anakin.
“No falls in therapy, right?”
“No,” Anakin giggles. “Fess, I’m okay. I promise. Ben even force feeds me vitamins every morning now.”
Ferus chuckles. “That’s— that’s good,” he grins. “Good idea.”
“And don’t worry, okay? But he also found me a job, but it’s a safe one, I swear, and it’s great!”
Ferus is too enamored to be worried for the moment. It’s clear Anakin had been very eager to share the news. He hears Obi-Wan’s husky laugh in the background and knows he is equally charmed. “Well, what is it? Tell me about it, and I’ll decide if it’s safe or not.”
“What are you going to do if you don’t deem it safe? Come over here and stop me?” Anakin taunts.
Ferus shakes his head with a roll of his eyes, but the smile is ever-present on his face. “Maybe I will,” he counters quietly, evenly.
Anakin can only hope, but the job is safe enough. “Well,” he starts. “It’s at the cantina.”
“The bar??” Ferus can’t hide his shock. “That’s not exactly out of the public eye!”
Obi-Wan takes the reins. “It is, actually; I gave you my word. He’ll report a couple of mornings a week for cleanup from the prior night. The facility won’t even be open to patrons yet. And he’ll only work hours when I am not, and I’ll be nearby, if not there with him.”
Ferus approves. He suddenly wishes this was a holocall, so he could see Obi-Wan and convey his thanks without having to verbalize it.
“You haven’t heard the best part,” Anakin reclaims the conversation. “I can get extra credits if there’s any maintenance needs,” he gloats. “Yesterday, I fixed the caff maker that’s been broken for months without even ordering parts! And it was a little difficult to finagle some of the finer wiring in those tight spaces, and to handle the smaller bolts and pins, but I really think it was a good way to get my fingers used to doing more tedious work– it’s basically additional therapy, and I’m getting paid to do it!”
Ferus listens intently as Anakin jabbers on about what he’s achieved in the two shifts he’s worked thus far. He is elated to hear Anakin so happy, but at the same time, feels solemn that he isn’t there with him to share in his joy. And somewhere in the middle of Anakin’s delightful and detailed explanations, Ferus’ eyes start watering heavily like they had when he’d ascended from the desert planet. . . but he can’t blame altitude or allergies this time.
“Fess? Still there?”
“Yes,” Ferus answers, his voice sounding a bit stuffy from what he’d expected. “I think I’ll have to go now, Ani. We’re over our limit.”
“Okay.” Anakin physically slumps. “Will we talk again soon? Is it okay if I call you sometime?”
“Sure.” And Ferus wants nothing more, even though that was never part of the original plan. “But next time, give Ben the comm to start, you’ve hardly let him get a word in,” he takes a moment to tease, and is rewarded with the handsome laughs of both men.
“Oh, I’m afraid I don’t have any news so exciting anyhow,” Obi-Wan finally chimes in. “But we miss you, my dear.”
“We miss you so much,” Anakin reinforces.
“I miss you, too.” Ferus chokes out.
Obi-Wan can detect what’s happening, and to his relief, it appears Anakin is too enthralled to pick up on it. He hates to end this call knowing Ferus will probably break down once it’s done. He hopes he isn’t alone. “You let me know if you need anything at all. Okay? And we’ll talk soon.”
"'Kay,” Ferus tires. “Talk soon.”
“Bye, Fess,” Anakin beams.
“Goodbye.”
“Take care of yourself,” Obi-Wan adds intently.
Ferus nods and realizes the gesture can’t be heard. “I will. . . Bye.”
“Bye. . . ” The thrill of the call is leaving now, and Anakin feels a wave of sadness overtake him. When will they hear from Ferus again? The line disconnects, and he looks at Obi-Wan helplessly.
Obi-Wan smiles and holds Anakin’s cheek. “There. You see? We just needed to be patient.”
Anakin grins and bobs his head once.
But Ferus. . . Ferus cries – sobs. Real tears, with associated sounds and even sniffles.
Ferus cries. . . decides it’s ridiculous to do so, wipes his eyes, and moves to start his day.
Notes:
Let them love you, Ferus Olin!
So, I wanted to share this with you. . . Look at this author's note I put at the end of my work, Streets of Gold, Chapter 35, two years ago this week. . .
Those "ideas brewing" were THIS fic 🥹 I really wasn't sure this would pan out, and definitely not so soon. I am thrilled to be sharing this story with you 💗 And I would love to know your thoughts on this latest chapter ❤️
Chapter Text
It is three weeks later – five in total since Obi-Wan and Anakin have been on their own without Ferus. Each of those weeks, Anakin has proudly worked a duo of shifts at the cantina, and each of those weeks holds exactly one comm call from Ferus – unofficially, but always on schedule, every seventh rotation.
And although Obi-Wan warns that this time is subject to change, Anakin is never not waiting for the alert at oh-eight-hundred.
The conversations typically run short, with Ferus disclosing little to no information about himself. If he is speaking, it is usually to inquire about Anakin’s recovery. . . which is slow, but steady, and full of highs and lows.
Fatigue is still on the forefront of challenges, and that continues to frustrate Anakin, as well as his tendency to get short of breath when he is overworked physically or emotionally. Prosthetic sensory still doesn’t feel quite right, but satisfaction comes with improved mobility – a greater exertion of fine motor skills brought on by his new occupation.
Changes in appearance are as gradual as the rest of the transitions. Anakin knows he won’t be winning any beauty pageants in the near or distant future, but as his scars start to diminish, his skin begins to tan, and his hair, brows, and lashes proceed to fill in, he’s reached a level of confidence that he’s not known in some time.
But the self-esteem struggles come in knowing that there are certain parts of himself that can never be restored by nature or by way of the miracle cream; his ears, for instance, particularly the left one, remain unnaturally shaped and oddly fused to his face. The portion of his chest that once housed the large respirator ports will likely always look patchy and mismatched, and the area as a whole will forever appear incomplete, since his nipples won’t be making a comeback. The same can be said of things like his fingernails and toenails – second to the fingers and toes themselves.
So, despite the minor boost in confidence, Anakin still more often keeps shrouded in his Master’s cloak – especially in public, where the obscurity holds a dual purpose. He keeps hidden now as he and Obi-Wan take their weekly stroll through the marketplace. . .
What is primarily a grocery run, has become an enjoyable ritual for the pair – a mini adventure out of the cave and into the more populated areas of Tatooine. Obi-Wan even allows Anakin to branch off and browse booths that spark his own interests while he shops for their staples.
Anakin is having to adjust to the amount of freedom Obi-Wan gives him, leaving him unsupervised not only in the market, but in some instances while he is at work, and other times while Obi-Wan is at work, too. It’s not as if Obi-Wan doesn’t worry; he has set up a motion detecting droid to scope the outskirts of their dwelling, he has purchased a simple two-way comm system so that Anakin may contact him in case of emergency, and he has even given him a blaster. . . And Anakin knows this is something Ferus would definitely not approve of, if he knew. . . Admittedly, even though Obi-Wan provides what Anakin feels is the perfect amount of leeway, he misses Ferus’ abundance of caution – specifically, the way Ferus would fuss over him.
But as much as Anakin had liked the extra attention, he knows he has to learn to take care of himself – to defend himself, should he ever stand face to face with the enemy. . . and that moment, to learn just what he is capable of in that sort of situation, might be upon him. . .
Someone is following him.
He can feel it.
He feels eyes on him, even concealed in the robe.
Anakin walks somewhat briskly back to Obi-Wan, hoping it isn’t too obvious just how desperate he is to do so. When he spots his Master, he resists the urge to sprint, mostly because his incompetent legs would almost assuredly send him face first into the sand.
Anakin snakes around to his Master’s side.
Obi-Wan notes the way Anakin has approached – swift, abundantly reserved. “What’s wrong?” he asks urgently, but quietly.
“I feel someone is following me.”
“Okay. All right,” Obi-Wan soothes. “I’m just about done here.” He hands Anakin some bagged fruits and pays the merchant. And with one hand on his blaster and the other on the small of Anakin’s back, they slip away into the crowd, both with a strong awareness of what’s going on around them.
Obi-Wan wishes he knew who was following them. It was better to know the threat – know what they were up against. Who had tracked them to this planet? Did they know of Luke? Was it Luke they were trying to find? Or was it Anakin? Obi-Wan won’t risk getting involved in an altercation with Anakin with him, but he plans to see his boy safely to the Lars’ and make a return trip to Mos Eisley soon after.
They take the public trolley back to the Jundland Wastes, and walk circles around the perimeter of their hut before entering. Blaster at the ready, and with Anakin tucked to his side, Obi-Wan thoroughly checks the interior of the cave for trespassers.
Neither sense anyone lurking about, and the security droid does not appear to have been tampered with; whoever was following them has lost their trail.
Obi-Wan takes Anakin in his hold and presses a sweet kiss to his plush lips. “You did good.”
“I didn’t do anything but run scared,” Anakin complains.
“You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”
“I used to be able to protect you. I was a Jedi; you said we were equals, and we always fought for one another and rescued each other. Now, I’m a liability to get you hurt.”
“You are not,” Obi-Wan defends passionately. “In fact, you and I are going to go to your step-brother’s and make sure there is no threat there, and then I need you to stay and protect Luke while I track down our adversary.”
Anakin’s mouth drops open. “Translation: Owen babysits me while you have a date with danger – no way!”
“Anakin, it’s not—”
The droid alarm blares, saving Obi-Wan from having to argue. He shoves Anakin behind him and whips out his blaster once more.
A hooded figure appears in the entry of the cave.
“Stop right there,” Obi-Wan booms in warning.
A pair of small hands rise up in surrender and skittishly flip a hood off a dual-peaked montral head. A young, female Togruta grins at them.
“Ahsoka??” Obi-Wan marvels. He rushes to the ex-apprentice he’d long feared to have been killed with the rest of the Jedi. Ahsoka meets him halfway and the two embrace.
Anakin stands still, watching, observing. His Master runs shaking hands over the Togruta’s shoulders; there are happy tears in the corners of her eyes. Anakin listens to their light, emotional chatter as he continues to study the young woman. . . He’d seen this person in the market – she’d looked at him in a way that had made him uneasy. Now she was approaching him.
“Skyguy, didn’t you recognize me?!” Ahsoka playfully hisses. She throws her arms around Anakin’s neck.
Anakin hugs her back, because he isn’t sure what else to do, but he’s intrigued at how well this girl seems to fit in his hold.
“I thought you were dead,” Ahsoka breathes in his ear. Anakin stays quiet as she pulls back and looks at him expectantly. “Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” she laughs ironically.
“Uh, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan intercedes. “Um, Anakin is. . . he won’t know who you are,” he informs in regret.
Ahsoka’s face twist in confusion. She takes a step back from her Master, who she now realizes appears baffled. “What do you mean?” she asks carefully.
“He’s. . . lost his memory.”
Obi-Wan can see the sorrow in her eyes. He could not imagine how he’d feel had Anakin’s memory been wiped back far enough to not know him.
Ahsoka looks at Anakin horror, but his smile is welcoming.
“Hello,” Anakin starts shyly. “We knew each other?”
Tears spring to Ahsoka’s eyes. “Yeah,” she chokes out. “We did.” She swallows hard, fighting back the pain; she’d already lost Anakin twice before. . . and now. But Ahsoka can’t help but mimic his serene smile. She feels a wave of peace wash over her. She cannot feel Anakin as strongly in the Force, but knows this unsuspecting tranquility she feels radiates from him. . . and it is a side of her Master she’d never seen since she’d known him.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan starts. “Ahsoka was. . . Well, she was your Padawan.”
“I had a Padawan?!” Anakin shrieks. It prompts laughter from the others, but a coughing fit for him.
Obi-Wan steps into his space and rubs the back of his neck. “Okay?” he asks in concern.
“Yeah.” Anakin attempts to clear his throat and inhales deeply.
Ahsoka can see Anakin is not the same physically. She’d seen it in his walk – not so confident as it once was. She sees it upon his scarred face, the closely cropped hair. She hears it in his voice. She’d felt it in the embrace, stiff at first, but even when he’d sort of melted into her hold, he’d felt. . . hard? Cold? She sees Obi-Wan now take his left hand and notices that it is a mechno one as his right one had been. She watches Obi-Wan tenderly offer soothing words as Anakin catches his breath. . . It is not normal that he’d not be able to catch his breath.
“I’m sorry,” Anakin tells Ahsoka. “A Padawan,” he repeats in awe, and moves to hug her again. “I’m sorry I don’t remember, but I’m so glad you’re here.”
Her Master’s hand rests upon her shoulder, and Ahsoka is flooded with memories of all the times Anakin had grounded her with this same simple gesture. “Me too. I’d been hoping to find either one of you, and here you are together. I shouldn’t be surprised,” she chuckles.
Obi-Wan grins bashfully. “It’s such a relief to know you’re safe. Had you come here looking for us, or was that by chance?”
“Chance. . . Though, I had dared to hope that you might’ve made it back home.” Ahsoka looks to Anakin. “Did you remember this was your home?” she suddenly wonders.
“Yes. I can remember when I was seventeen and back,” Anakin explains. “When did you become my Padawan?”
“You were twenty,” Ahsoka replies warmly.
Anakin feels excitement brewing that this is a person who can fill in some of the blanks. He is surprised Obi-Wan hadn’t mentioned him having an apprentice sooner.
“I’m actually here looking for our troops, or any troops. Rex is here, too,” Ahsoka reveals.
“Rex?” Obi-Wan is stunned.
“It’s a long story, but he resisted his orders during the purge; he fought the mind-control.”
“Mind control?” Now, Obi-Wan is very confused.
“It seems our soldiers did not have free will,” Ahsoka relays somberly.
A hand covers Obi-Wan’s mouth, then strokes his beard.
“We discovered an implant chip in Rex’s brain and were able to remove it. That chip is what caused them to attack; they all have it. We have since been trying to find other clones – to help them. The Empire is casting them out like garbage, wanting to replace them with natural born recruits.”
Obi-Wan can hardly believe it, but finally, it all makes sense. The clones had been loyal to the Jedi; he’d never sensed deception, and he’d been close to his own men, gotten to know them – trusted them. Their betrayal had left him astounded and grief-stricken. “Have you. . . ? Cody,” he states plainly.
Ahsoka shakes her head. “We’ve not been able to locate anyone from the 212th as of yet.”
“Who’s Cody?” Anakin queries. “Rex?”
“They were our right-hand men, dear one. They fought at our side in the war. Rex was your captain. Cody was my commander. . . Ahsoka was your commander.” Obi-Wan had purposely avoided these specifics with Anakin for fear of him asking further questions that would lead to ones he was unable to answer.
“My Commander?” Anakin sparks, grinning at the Togruta. “Really?” he drags out the question in a teasing tone.
Ahsoka grins back. She is certain their old connection is still there.
*
The trio spend hours talking and getting reacquainted. The conversation stays light-hearted and mostly focused on the distant past. Ahsoka can detect Obi-Wan’s unease any time their chatter revolves around more current events. . . the end of the war. . . the last year.
Ahsoka has sent a communication to Rex about her discovery of ‘THE generals,’ but he regrets that he is unable to migrate to their end of the planet for the time being, as he has successfully located a small commune of ‘look-alikes’ that need assistance. But he encourages Ahsoka to stay, and she does; she stays through the afternoon and shares dinner with her Master and Grand Master for the evening.
And about an hour past digesting his food, Anakin unsurprisingly drifts off, all his weight on his Master’s shoulder. Obi-Wan eases him down to a vertical position with his head in his lap.
“He’s really enjoyed your company,” Obi-Wan informs in gratitude when it’s been quiet for a moment, after shared heartwarming giggles over Anakin’s heavy eyes and tethering neck.
“I was so surprised when he looked right at me in the market and then just turned away.”
“Yes, I imagine that was a shock.”
“I almost didn’t recognize him,” Ahsoka pries.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan utters, his fingers stroking through Anakin’s fuzzy hair.
“He’s. . . he’s all right, isn’t he? He’s not like. . . ?”
“He’s on the mend,” Obi-Wan promises. “He’s much better off than he had been, trust me.”
“What. . . What happened to him?”
“He was in an accident.”
“You were there when it happened?”
“Yes.”
“Is that. . . ? He was burned?”
“Yes.” Obi-Wan is trying not to sound cross. “Severely. His lungs were badly damaged and he has just had surgery several weeks ago.”
“Oh.” Ahsoka can tell the questions are upsetting Obi-Wan; she has many more, but can’t bring herself to ask them – like how Anakin had ended up limbless. He’d removed his boots a couple of hours ago, and now his lower prosthetics were more visible from his current position.
“I apologize,” Obi-Wan says defeated. “It’s just. . . It was so awful. I’m glad he doesn’t remember, and I. . . I wish I could forget.”
“Despite it all, he seems happy,” Ahsoka aims for optimism.
Obi-Wan smiles. “He is.”
“Except he misses this Ferus he keeps talking about.”
Obi-Wan’s grin is wide now. “Yes.” A low laugh rumbles in his throat. “We do miss Ferus.” He still scratches at Anakin’s scalp. He snorts, “You aren’t asking all your questions aloud, but I can hear them anyway.”
Ahsoka chuckles. “Am I that obvious?”
“You’ve always been curious – much like your Master.”
“I like to have the facts.” Ahsoka shrugs.
“There’s so much I haven’t told him,” Obi-Wan blurts quietly.
“Like about Padmé?”
Obi-Wan’s head turns sharp. “You knew about Padmé??”
“Well, no one confirmed it. . . Well, until now.” Ahsoka tilts her head.
“He won’t remember her re-entering his life. And she’s gone now, so. . . The less he has to hurt, the better. He really is happy – without the war, without the pressure of his peers. . . the responsibility of fulfilling a prophecy. The Empire has enslaved us all, but Anakin is finally free.”
“And you’re finally letting yourself be free, too, it seems.” She motions to his physical closeness with Anakin. “You’ve always loved him; you love him.”
“I do. . . Funny, Padmé said the same. I guess you’re not the only one who is so obvious in what they are trying to withhold.”
“So, Padmé knew you loved him. . . Does Ferus?”
“Yes.”
“Does Anakin??”
“Yes.” Obi-Wan can’t wipe the smile off his face. “He finally knows just how much I love him.” Even without the use of the Force, Obi-Wan feels the additional burning questions. “It’s complicated with Ferus,” he offers. “We hope he will come back to us, but he is grieving his mate. He needs time.”
“Back to us?”
“Yes. Us. . . Are you satisfied now?” Obi-Wan chortles.
“I suppose.” Ahsoka bites her curled lip.
“Will you stay the night? I know Anakin would like to have the chance to say goodbye, but I do believe he’s out until morning.”
“I’ll stay,” Ahsoka agrees kindly. “Then maybe Rex can meet me here. Would that be okay?”
“Of course. Then we’ll really have the team back together, won’t we?”
“I’ve missed you, Master Obi-Wan.”
“I’ve missed you, too, dear.”
*
Another seven rotations have passed – six weeks since Ferus has been away. And now there is another confidant whom Obi-Wan and Anakin will keep in touch with via comm. And Obi-Wan can see how happy that makes his Padawan – to have more love in his life – more connections. Ferus, Ahsoka, Luke, even Owen and Beru each bring about a certain level of fulfillment that Obi-Wan knows he could not provide all on his own. Much of Anakin’s happiness lies within the happiness of the ones he loves. He’d always seemed at his best when he’d held relationships that were flourishing.
Their own relationship had been flourishing the last month and a half. Ferus hadn’t been wrong that it would do them good to have some private time. The love had been there from the start, but now there was romance as well.
When Anakin had inquired about the nature of their relationship during the years he couldn’t remember, Obi-Wan had answered honestly: they’d had an unofficial relationship bordering on romantic. Anakin accurately assumes the complications of their being Jedi while fighting in a galactic civil war is what had held them back. As a result, Obi-Wan doesn’t have to bring up Padmé as one of the many reasons they weren’t a couple.
As he’d previously divulged to Ferus, Obi-Wan described their innate pull to one another, and how there had been something unmentionable between them; he’d explained that although they express their love verbally now, those words were not spoken in the past. He revealed that they had expressed their love physically, but admits that traditional intercourse had not come into play. . . Obi-Wan was the one that hadn’t allowed for it to go that far. . . and that still holds true.
Obi-Wan hadn’t thought Anakin ready back then, and he isn’t sure he’s ready now; Anakin is twenty-four years old, but he has no recollection of his more matured years, and therefore really has no experience with sex. And though neither their pledge to the Order, nor Anakin’s relationship with Padmé are hindrances any longer, there are other factors to consider. . . Obi-Wan isn’t sure of Anakin’s limitations, and he knows the topic would be difficult for Anakin to discuss. But Obi-Wan doesn’t need the discussion; he is patient, as he always has been. He’ll wait for Anakin for as long as it takes. And if he learns Anakin isn’t able to perform sexually, he will be happy to have him in whatever way he can.
It is bedtime, and the pair lie upon the rock pedestal bed. They’ve shared their goodnight kiss, have partaken in tender touches and affectionate cuddles, and now rest on their sides facing one another. . . and Anakin feels the weight of his nightly burden heavy on his thigh.
From what Anakin can recall, he’s never had sex, but Obi-Wan has told him he’s positive he’d lost his virginity in his forgotten years, albeit he claims to have no knowledge of his sexual partners, only that he hadn’t been one of them.
It bothers Anakin. He wants to give himself to Obi-Wan, but finds it hard to accept that he’s already given himself to someone else, but doesn’t know who. And when Anakin tries to ask Obi-Wan about his past relationships, Obi-Wan remains coy, and that bothers Anakin as well.
But what bothers Anakin most is he has no idea where to begin. He is pleasantly surprised to find that this specific part of him still seems to function as it once did – blood fast-pumping through his loins anytime his Master draws near, but how can he relieve this tension? Can this tension be relieved at all? Can he relieve Obi-Wan’s? Anakin knows his Master more often than not sports a matching boner. Isn’t it his responsibly to rectify that?
“I love you, baby, and that’s all that matters,” Obi-Wan assures as Anakin takes the conversation in the forbidden direction.
“I love you, too, but that’s not all that matters – not really. I know what you want, and I want it, too. I just don’t know—”
Obi-Wan shushes him. “There’s no need to get in a hurry. I am more than satisfied with the way things are going.” He gives Anakin another sweet, slow goodnight kiss.
But when Obi-Wan tries to separate, Anakin slips his tongue in his mouth and begins to kiss him more aggressively.
Obi-Wan would never deprive himself of such a luxury; he reciprocates, sliding in close, holding Anakin’s cheek. At the sound of primal, strained breathing, the smacking of lips can be heard as Obi-Wan wrestles Anakin from his face. “Sweetheart,” he mutters. “Slow down. It won’t do to suffocate ourselves by way of kissing,” he jokes.
“Sorry,” Anakin rasps. He relaxes his from for a fraction of a second, then hungrily resumes his fervent lip lock.
Obi-Wan chuckles despite his mouth being occupied. Since his words hadn’t held an impact, he gently strokes just behind Anakin’s ear in an attempt to coax him into a more relaxed pace. He is successful. Anakin un-suctions his lips from his own, but keeps his warm tongue inside.
After a moment, Obi-Wan feels a durasteel hand slide down the curve of his body, then halt at his waist. Anakin wriggles backwards. He awkwardly pivots his arm, palm moving towards his Master’s groin, then reverts back. Now, he rotates his arm the opposite direction, tries once more to find a sufficient position, before aborting his plan completely. With Anakin having been focused on this task, the tongue in Obi-Wan’s mouth has stilled, so he breaks the kiss. The hand behind Anakin’s ear adjust to cup his face, but Anakin jerks his head away.
“I’m such an idiot,” Anakin offers as an excuse before his Master can comment.
“You are not.” Obi-Wan tries to get him to look at him again.
“I am! I don’t know what I’m doing except for humiliating myself.”
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Obi-Wan avows.
“I don’t know what I’m doing!” Anakin reiterates in frustration as he springs upright. “Stupid man child,” he grumbles under his breath.
“Okay,” Obi-Wan begins his moderation, joining Anakin in a seated position. “I think we need to stop for a moment and have a little chat. Yes?”
“No,” Anakin pouts with arms folded, but then unloads, anyway, “It’s bad enough I can’t remember having sex, but I don’t even know what will happen if I try, and you’ve been with other people, and you once wanted to be with me, you’ve said, but I’m not that man anymore, and I just want you to be satisfied, and I don’t know the first thing about how to do that – clearly.” He rolls his eyes.
“Darling, you’re making this way more complicated than it has to be.”
“It IS complicated! You’re too freaked to make a move on me, and I’m too freaked to make a move on you, and both have to do with the fact that we don’t know what this deformed body is going to do!”
“You’re not deformed.” It breaks Obi-Wan’s heart when Anakin speaks so negatively about himself. He knows his lack in confidence is a direct result of his injuries, and those injuries, little does Anakin know, were sustained by him. “And I’m not freaked; I just don’t want you to do something you aren’t ready for.”
“And why wouldn’t I be ready? I’m a grown man. . . allegedly. . . I can’t do anything,” Anakin decides gloomily.
“You can. You can do anything,” Obi-Wan coaches. “What is it that you think you can’t do? Let’s break it down; we’ll talk it out – work through it.”
“I just. . . Even though I can’t remember doing anything sexual – with anyone, I know how things used to work, and my body is telling me – it’s showing me it wants you, so it seems it’s working in the same way, but that might change if you. . . And what if I touch you, and I hurt you? There are still times when I grip too tight without realizing.”
“Okay. I understand.” And Obi-Wan does. It’s a double hurdle. Anakin doesn’t know how his body will respond to touch, and in addition to not having experience (from what he can recall), he has the obstacle of mechanical hands to deal with. One thing at a time. . . “Let me ask. . . Have you tried to touch yourself since. . . ?”
“I. . . thought about it, but I. . . didn’t, when it came down to it. I didn’t want something to go wrong, and then have to tell you what I. . .”
“I understand. Let me ask you this: at times when you’ve felt aroused, does it feel different against the fabric of your clothes?”
Anakin can feel his cheeks have gone red hot. “It feels. . . Yes.”
“More sensitive?”
“I guess.”
“Would you say the sensitivity brings you discomfort? Or is it a more heightened sense of pleasure?”
Anakin covers his face and groans. “This is ridiculous! It’s like I’m having a medical consult when I just want to be intimate with you. It shouldn’t be this way! It should be natural! Instead, you have to ask me all these embarrassing questions!”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed; I’m not judging you – I’m just trying to do right by you. I want you to feel confident in progressing.”
“But it should be romantic, not so. . . routine.”
“It will be romantic, because we love each other. We just have to get through this awkward part first. We’ll figure things out.”
“When? How can we figure things out if we don’t even try?”
“Well, we can try, if that’s what you want.”
Anakin instantly calms. “We can? Tonight? Like, now??”
Obi-Wan smiles. “If that’s what you want,” he says again.
“Is that what you want?”
Anakin finally allows for Obi-Wan to make eye contact, and for the gentle touch to the side of his face he'd earlier rejected. “Yes, love. That is what I want.”
“Okay,” Anakin agrees with a toothy, sly grin. “Okay,” he says with a bit more zest. “H-how?”
“However you like.”
“I want. . . I want you to touch me, because. . . because, I’m really not sure about these hands yet.”
“No explanation required. How about you get undressed? We can start there, see how you feel.”
Anakin frowns. “I already know how that’ll make me feel,” he gripes.
Obi-Wan smooths Anakin’s bristly hair. “And how will that make you feel?”
“Self-conscious.”
“You know you don’t have to feel that way with me,” Obi-Wan reminds softly.
“Can’t help it. I know you see me without clothes every day, but this is different; you’ll be looking at me different.”
“I will see the beautiful boy that I always see – that won’t change, but if you don’t want to get undressed all the way, that’s all right.”
“No, I will; I want to be naked together. Will you be naked, too, please?”
Obi-Wan is smitten at how polite and innocent the request has come out. He sheds his layers as Anakin intently observes, a sucked-in smile stretched wide across his face. Obi-Wan laughs as he settles. “You’re making me feel a little self-conscious,” he teases.
“No, you shouldn’t be – not ever. . . you’re so. . .” Anakin’s fingers graze his Master’s muscular chest. “Strong.” He slides his prosthetic digits to-and-fro in the thick, ginger hair dusted across his pecs. The coarser texture is more easily registered than the softer locks on Obi-Wan’s head. When Anakin is reminded of the time his metal joints had snagged Ferus’ hair, he cautiously pulls away.
Obi-Wan has picked up on the loss in confidence; he takes Anakin’s hand in his and puts it back in place.
“It’s not too cold?”
“No. Are you cold?”
“No.” Anakin slips out of his pullover to prove it. He starts to shimmy out of his pajama bottoms, but then eyes the lamp on the cave floor a few feet away. “Can we put it out?”
“If that’s what would make you feel most comfortable.”
Anakin nods. “For now.”
Obi-Wan waves a hand, and the light fades away.
Anakin lets out a dramatic gasp. “You aren’t supposed to use the Force!”
Obi-Wan laughs. “Just a small manipulation. Won’t hurt. . . The lamp is all the way over there, and I don’t want to be away from you. Ever!” He playfully pounces on Anakin and presses an abundance of wet smooches to his neck.
Anakin cackles uncontrollably, Obi-Wan’s beard tickling him – which he knows was his intent. When the laughter subsides, Obi-Wan kisses his neck again, but this time he is not provoking laughter, but arousal. . . but unknowingly. . . anxiety as well.
Anakin despises that there wouldn’t be any soft skin beneath his Master’s lips, but instead mutilated flesh. Is Obi-Wan doing this because he wants to, or because he feels like he has to? The same question applies as he mouths down the center of Anakin’s chest – right over the immense amount of scarring from his injuries and from his surgery.
“Y-you don’t have to do that,” Anakin protests hushed. “I know it’s. . .” He involuntarily moans, and his overstrung body goes limp as Obi-Wan licks the area where a nipple once was. Now he lightly sucks, and Anakin hadn’t expected to feel any sort of stimulation there, but he surely does. He draws in a breath and fights the urge to start coughing. He doesn’t want anything interrupting this.
Obi-Wan slides his hand along Anakin’s torso. He pinches his hip and moves his thumb over his pelvic bone. He tugs the waist of his pants, presses his mouth to the modestly exposed area, then rests his head to Anakin’s abdomen, but not before placing a brief kiss near his navel.
Obi-Wan feels Anakin’s cool touch on the back of his neck and shoulders. He hums in satisfaction; how he yearns for Anakin to become more confident with touch. Head still comfortably perched on his belly, Obi-Wan rubs his still-fabric-covered upper thigh. But even with the barrier of clothes, Anakin involuntarily jolts, and Obi-Wan’s hand freezes. “Okay?”
“Yeah. I didn’t mean t— You can take um off now.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Obi-Wan helps Anakin remove the layers from his lower half. What he has uncovered seems to be operational, as Anakin had expressed, erect and ready. But Anakin’s heart has begun beating more rapidly; Obi-Wan can see the quick pulsing of his chest. “Do we need to stop here for the night?” he asks in concern.
“No,” Anakin pants.
“Okay, well, let’s work on breathing, all right? Take some deep breaths for me.”
Anakin complies, nosily pushing the air from his artificial lungs.
“Good,” Obi-Wan coos as he traces his fingers along Anakin’s hip again. There is a significant difference in the texture of his flesh there, and he can see the same is true of his entire pelvic area. Anakin has not allowed him to apply healing salve anywhere near his groin, or even his buttocks or upper thighs . . . This would explain the extreme sensitivity in this region.
Obi-Wan is concerned about the next step, but they must start somewhere. It’s tough to determine which is the greater risk: damage to the body or to the self-esteem.
Anakin’s heart rate seems to have slowed, his breaths no longer so erratic. Obi-Wan carefully glides his hand further inward, into the valley – the moat that borders the precious fortress.
A surge rushes through Anakin. There is pleasure, yes, but there is something more that he can’t quite pinpoint. “Kiss me. Please,” Anakin frantically forces out.
Willful hand holding position, Obi-Wan leans forward and lets Anakin latch onto his lips. His fingers curl, bringing his palm nearer to the target. He diligently thumbs the upright cock and notes how Anakin squirms. He isn’t sure if he should refrain, but Anakin is still proficiently kissing him, so with very little pressure, he surrounds the shaft.
Anakin is now practically sucking his lips from his face. Obi-Wan wants to remind him to relax, so he fights to break free. He keeps his hand loosely wrapped around Anakin’s erection, but directs hushed, “We need to take a breath, all right?” He momentarily touches his forehead to Anakin’s and feels beading sweat. Obi-Wan kisses his hair as Anakin takes long inhales and sharp exhales. “I think we need to stop, love.”
“Keep going,” Anakin orders between huffs. “Please. Mm Fine.”
Obi-Wan is reluctant with how stressed Anakin seems to be, but understands how badly he wants to see this through; he doesn’t want to bruise his fragile ego. He brings himself closer to Anakin in support. In turn, Anakin buries his face in his neck. Obi-Wan first pecks his temple, then very slowly pumps his fist down Anakin’s length.
Anakin gasps loudly.
Obi-Wan doesn’t believe this was a good gasp. Anakin has coiled, and his face is now plunged into his sternum, gripping his shoulder as if he’s trying to curb pain. . . Anakin deflates. And Obi-Wan hears him sob.
Obi-Wan shields him in a tight embrace. “Oh, baby. Did it hurt?”
Anakin’s face is still hidden in his chest, but he moves his head side to side to answer the question.
“Tell me if I hurt you, sweetheart, please.”
“It just feels fucking weird!” Anakin shouts. “Just not. . . normal!”
Obi-Wan squeezes him.
“I’m sorry,” Anakin chokes out.
“You don’t have to be sorry, darling. It’s okay.”
“No, I am sorry; I’m sorry you have to deal with this – you shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“It’s nothing to deal with. I love you, Anakin. I’m with you all the way, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Anakin mumbles tearfully.
But Obi-Wan knows it is. “I’m just sorry this is so difficult for you, but I’ll help you in any way I can.”
Anakin sniffles. “Why did this have to happen?” he pushes out weakly. “Why can’t I be what you need?”
Obi-Wan reminds himself to stay strong and wills away his own tears. “You’re everything I need, and everything I want. I don’t care about sex.”
“Yes, you do. And I do, too,” Anakin declares cross. “Now we’ve established you can’t touch me, and I’m pretty sure my mutant hands won’t feel good to you.”
“Baby, slow down. This is only our very first night in trying. We have all the time in the galaxy to experiment with this. You’ll gain better control of your hands – think of how far you’ve already come. And we still haven’t looked into getting those synth flesh coverings the doctors told you about. We’ll do that, and I suspect that will make things easier, and. . . and you’ve always insisted there’s no need to apply your cream in that region, but perhaps that might make a difference. Had you actually been told not to treat that area?”
“No, but I wasn’t going to ask you or Ferus to do that for me, and I can’t do it myself!”
“Okay, okay.” Obi-Wan massages Anakin’s shoulders. “But before it was just you and Ferus, did the med droid put it all over?”
“Yeah,” Anakin sighs in mild annoyance.
“Then it’s safe to do so, and we should’ve continued. You could’ve told me. I wouldn’t mind one bit to do that for you.”
“I don’t want you to have to. . . ‘play doctor’ there. It’s supposed to be for fun, not for. . .”
“It’s no different than when you’ve had a busted lip in the past – sometimes your lips need medical care, but sometimes we use them for kissing.” Obi-Wan lifts Anakin’s chin and gives him a peck on the mouth after saying this.
Anakin laughs in spite of himself. “You’re full of shit. This is very different and you know it.”
“Maybe,” Obi-Wan laughs, too. “But I think you should let me help you with it; I’m certain it will heal that more sensitive flesh just as it has in other places.”
Anakin ponders. “Can I try touching you next time?”
Obi-Wan chuckles. “Of course, Whatever you want to do.”
“I want to try it, but not now. Later. I can’t do it right now,” Anakin informs bitterly.
“That’s all right.”
“But I want to stay naked with you.”
Obi-Wan laughs. “Okay, then. Sounds good to me.” He tucks Anakin into his naked hold for the night.
Chapter 18
Notes:
Merry Christmas!
Here is a Life Day themed chapter to capture the spirit of the season❤️🎄
I am quite honestly astounded at the way the timing worked out. This was first written last December. At the time, I thought about how amazing it would be if I could miraculously finish the full first draft of the story, and then begin posting soon enough to have this chapter out for the following Christmas... I am GIDDY! I still can't believe it; I don't write chapter fics by the chapter - I just write, and decide on where the stopping points will be as I post. So, it wasn't until about 6 weeks ago that I realized this chapter could be published in December. As a result. . . I could not resist reaching out to one of my favorite artist (and very dear friend), Bere Weillschmidt, to provide us with a visual serenade - my Life Day gift to you! You will see the piece within the body of the chapter as you read 😊 But don't look ahead! The art has spoilers!
⚠️ Mild Content Warning: Chapter contains descriptions of what could be interpreted as the start of a panic attack ⚠️
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
A month has passed, and it is the eve of Life Day across the galaxy. The Tatooine climate does not make for a very festive feel, but Anakin has taken painstaking measures to remedy that, and Obi-Wan is positively captivated by his darling boy.
Though the Jedi Order hadn’t held any official Life Day celebrations, or didn’t technically observe the holiday at all, when Anakin was little, Obi-Wan made sure to carry over certain traditions he’d shared with his mother. They’d watch the seasonal holovision programs, play the classic carols (though Anakin would always request his Master sing them live for him instead), and they’d even tried some of the conventional recipes like Mirial teacakes and wasaka berry pudding. And on the magical morning of, Obi-Wan would always have a special gift for his precious Padawan.
But as there had been increasing unrest in the Republic’s latter years, there was less opportunity to enjoy those more lighthearted aspects of life. When the war had begun, there were a handful of years where Life Day had come and gone without the overwrought generals even realizing it had been upon them. The two had not been able to adequately celebrate together since Anakin was a teenager. . . probably the last holiday that he could remember.
But Obi-Wan remembers. He remembers how he’d purposely forgotten Life Day the prior year – made a point to lose track of the rotations, so he wouldn’t know the pain of the joyous occasion without his main source of joy.
Now, his Anakin had come back to him, and Obi-Wan can hardly fathom how he is in the very same cave where he had felt such sorrow. The dwelling was certainly not a house, but Anakin had managed to make it a home.
Anakin had first requested seasonal snacks at the market, as well as the holiday blend of tea, and insisted Obi-Wan drink nothing else throughout the merry month.
He’d then inquired with his employer about decorating their workspace, to which the barman had replied that he didn’t have time for such ‘rubbish.’ But when Anakin offered to do the decorating for him – suggesting that a little Life Day cheer might get his patrons into the spirit of consuming more spirits, the tavernkeeper revealed a dusty, old storage crate that contained décor from the previous cantina owner.
Anakin was ecstatic when he was told he’d be allotted a wreath by the entry and a few lights at the bar. . . and then, he was welcome to take the rest of the collection home.
Vintage Life Day decorations now encompassed the cavern.
It was certainly a luxury to have the power converter from Ferus’ ship. . . Bold, retro lights were illuminated and strung about. A prismatic projector shone from beneath a sliver, artificial spruce, adorned with colorful ornamental jewels and a twinkling star atop. In addition, a trio of chunky-knit stockings were tacked to the main stone wall, green garlands with red ribbons saw every available flat surface of rock, and a duo of bells hung around Akkani’s neck; though, Anakin had modified them in a way that they would not be a noisy nuisance to the docile eopie.
Among a plethora of yuletide knick-knacks, there was one that stood out above the rest: a red-cloaked Wookiee figurine that held a battery powered Life Day orb. This treasured keepsake once belonged to Shmi Skywalker.
Back when it was just the two of them, it was the only store-bought Life Day decoration Anakin and his mother owned in a sea of handmade items and throw-away hand-me-downs. At the time, when Anakin was about three or four, those trendy, roaring Wookiees had been popular enough throughout the core worlds to make it all the way to the outer rim. . . and Shmi hadn’t wanted her son to miss out.
Anakin had loved and valued the fuzzy, friendly-faced trinket; he looked forward to displaying it each year. . . a sweet story that Shmi had apparently shared with her step-family in the years they’d celebrated Life Day with her; Beru was very pleased to pass on the now nearly forgotten novelty to Anakin at the start of the season. She expressed regret that the orb no longer had the ability to glow, but it had only taken Anakin minutes to troubleshoot and restore it to its former, gleaming glory.
And Anakin gleamed, too.
Of all the magnificent splendor Obi-Wan finds himself surrounded in, the prettiest sight to see is his beloved Anakin, wrapped in his plush pullover – his ‘Ferus sweater,’ with the threads of a perfect hue for the holiday season.
Anakin wears the garment most days, even without a chill in the air. Obi-Wan knows it provides emotional comfort just as much as physical – it makes Anakin feel close to Ferus. And Obi-Wan knows Anakin is thinking of him this evening; he thinks of him every evening, but on this night in particular, the separation would be felt more profoundly.
The couple are cozied up in a corner of the cave, having just watched a grainy version of an old classic on the holonet. Settled in his arms, Anakin is quiet as the credits roll. Obi-Wan kisses his forehead, and combs his fingers through his short strands.
“What do you think Ferus is doing?” Anakin asks, looking down at their laps.
This confirms the mood Obi-Wan had suspected. “I would assume him to be with his family – Roan’s family. It is their first Life Day without him; they likely want to be together.”
“Yeah.” Anakin sighs. “Do you think we’ll hear from him?”
Obi-Wan wishes he could say yes; he’s not certain they will, as Ferus had made his scheduled call three rotations ago, but he does have something to offer, “Well, I don’t know if he’ll comm, but he sent a package. . .”
Anakin’s head whips around and he grins. “What?”
Obi-Wan smiles back. “It came last week – with a note that said, ‘Do Not Open Until Life Day,’ and I didn’t want to temp you,” he says slyly. “But I suppose the eve of the holiday is close enough.”
“Where is it?!” Anakin abruptly rises, his enthusiasm apparent.
His Padawan looks the like nine-year-old from that first Life Day all over again as Obi-Wan hands off the parcel he’d kept hidden.
They return to their former positions on the floor. Anakin places the box down, then squeezes Obi-Wan in a hug that produces a jolly chuckle.
“When did it arrive again?” Anakin inquires with a more serious tone.
“Last week. Ferus wasn’t the one to deliver it,” Obi-Wan clarifies. “He had a courier – one of his allies who was making rounds.”
“Who?”
“Oryon. He often transports items from Coruscant to the base, among other destinations.”
Anakin looks thoughtful with pursed lips. “I don’t think I’ve heard Ferus mention him. I was at work?”
“I was at work. Oryon met me there.”
“Did you talk to him?”
Obi-Wan knows the ‘him’ is Ferus. “Not directly. He just sent a message that it was coming; you know he wouldn’t make a call without speaking with you,” Obi-Wan reassures, and he can see he’s alleviated Anakin’s concern.
Anakin processes this whilst staring at the delivery.
“You don’t have to wait for permission, love,” Obi-Wan laughs. “Open it!” he urges eagerly, restoring Anakin’s excitement.
Anakin bites his lower lip, then tears into the package. It contains three wrapped presents, each with sparkling paper of a different color. The largest is red, the next size in gold, and a palm-sized one in green. There is a white envelope nestled between the boxes that Anakin reaches for first.
Anakin opens the letter and reads it aloud, “‘My dearest Obi-Wan and sweet Anakin,’” he pauses and looks at Obi-Wan with stars in his wide eyes. “‘Happy Life Day to you both,’” he continues. “‘I miss you, and I’m thinking of you. And I wanted you to have a little something from me this holiday season, so maybe you’d think of me, too.
‘For Obi-Wan – I know the desert isn’t always your friend. I’m told this will keep you cool for as long as you wear it. It is said to promote hydration as well. . . which should in turn, have you looking young and youthful.’” Anakin cackles. “He’s totally messing with you!”
Obi-Wan is smiling wide. “Wonderful. Two of you to make me feel like an old codger. Read the rest of the card please,” he prompts in fictitious annoyance.
Anakin smirks. “‘For Anakin – I wanted you to have something to tinker with, as well as someone, by your standards, to keep you company. He’s a refurbished model, color-customized to what I think will be to your liking. A new friend that I hope will bring a smile to your face and light to your eyes (it’s quite a bright light).’” Anakin laughs. “‘I hope you are both taking care of yourselves. I hope you have a wonderful holiday together, filled with love and laughter. All my best, Ferus Olin.’”
Anakin’s eyes fill with tears, but the smile remains affixed to his face. “Sweet Anakin,” he recites as he pulls the three gifts from of the shipping box.
Obi-Wan beams. “Well, you are.”
“I’m. . . sort of surprised he wrote that.”
Obi-Wan is actually surprised as well. Ferus is always very careful in how he expresses his feelings during their weekly call. Obi-Wan can easily detect there are things he wants to say, but chooses to hold back. Whatever the contents of this package, Obi-Wan doesn’t believe anything will top the greeting from the card.
Anakin retrieves the littlest green box first; it is tagged for Obi-Wan. The gold one is for him. The red one isn’t tagged in the same way, but has another note attached to it. Anakin reads it and chuckles, “‘Couldn’t forget a little something for Akkani as well.’ Should we open this one first? He’s so. . .” Anakin sighs dreamily. “I love him, Master.”
Obi-Wan tilts his head to the side affectionately. “I know you do, baby. He’s sweet to do this for us – all of us. Yes, let’s see what Akkani’s got first,” he chortles.
Anakin carefully un-creases the wrap, then pulls back layers of tissue inside the box. “Feed,” Anakin says adoringly. “This is for her, but it really helps us; that’s credits we can put toward something else. That was so thoughtful.”
“Yes, it was. That will be a big help, and something different for her to try.” Obi-Wan smiles softly.
“Open yours next,” Anakin offers. “I have an idea what mine is.”
“So do I. . .” Obi-Wan lifts the lid of the petite package and his heart feels split open. “Oh, this is lovely.”
Anakin scoots closer to have a better look at the brilliant pendant on black leather cord – a crystalized droplet of water, no bigger than the size of those associated wasaka berries. “This is so you,” Anakin notes in awe. “Can I help you put it on? Well, I mean, I can try.” He examines the clasp. “I think I can do it.”
“Give it a try.” Obi-Wan turns his back to Anakin and goes still.
Anakin takes the ends of the cord between the metal fingertips of each hand. His arms rise over Obi-Wan’s head, positioning the accessory around his neck. Now, Anakin fights to connect the dainty hooks. He hasn’t worked with anything this tedious, but he is determined.
It takes Anakin a moment, but Obi-Wan remains patient. He soon hears the triumphant call.
“Got it!” Anakin boasts. He straightens the cord as Obi-Wan centers the droplet in place; it perfectly traces the edge of his collar.
Anakin moves to check out the view from the front. “Looks beautiful; it really suits you.”
Obi-Wan smiles, sentimentally covers the pendant with his palm, and puckers his lips.
Anakin kisses him, then sits back down beside him. “I wish he were here with us.” So much joy and so much sadness overtakes him all at once.
“I do, too,” Obi-Wan agrees. “Open yours, dear heart. Let’s see what Ferus sent you.”
At the unveiling, Anakin gasps. “It’s a toy droid! Like, toy, as in the miniature hover droids! L series! I really wanted one of these when I was a kid!”
Obi-Wan’s laugh is fond. “Couldn’t you have just built one? You built that other thing – the protocol.”
“These weren’t as easy to find parts for – they’re so unique, and the design is actually pretty complex for such little guys.” Anakin powers it on and the droid introduces itself as L3-VEN7 in binary. “They didn’t make these in yellow. . .” Anakin mumbles emotionally. “The color. . . It’s perfect. How did he know?”
“I don’t think I’ve told you that you had a famous yellow fighter in the war – customized by you, of course.”
“I did?! Was it a Delta-7?”
“It was an Eta-2.”
“An Eta-2?? What are those?!”
Obi-Wan chuckles. “Basically, an upgraded model – a lot nicer and larger than the former, and I think, more aesthetically pleasing.”
“Since when do you care about aesthetics on a ship?” Anakin probes playfully.
With a slight smile, Obi-Wan shrugs both his shoulders and brows.
“I wish I could remember it – I wanna see it; do you think there’s specs on the holonet?”
“I’m sure.”
“Did those come equipped with the astromech ports, too??”
“Yes.” Obi-Wan’s reflex to smile outweighs his instinct to flinch.
“I was so jealous when you got issued your fighter and astromech. They wouldn’t give them to Padawans,” Anakin chidingly sings. “Loaners only – if you were lucky enough to go on a mission that required one. Did I get a droid with my ship, too?”
“You had a droid,” Obi-Wan confirms, omitting that it wasn’t Temple-issued.
“I’m sure I customized it, too, right? What happened to it?”
“I’m not sure, sweetheart.”
“Do you remember that astromech from Naboo when I destroyed the control ship? Artoo?”
Obi-Wan feels his skin crawl. “I remember,” he nearly whispers.
“I wonder what happened to my little buddy; I wonder if he moved with Padmé from Queen to Senator.” Anakin frowns. “I still can’t believe she died. I know it’s strange since I haven’t seen her since I was a child, but I think about her a lot. Sometimes I even dream about her.”
Obi-Wan feels himself go pale. He keeps silent. He’d nearly choked when Anakin had asked him about Padmé weeks prior, and now he was dreaming of her?
“In my dreams, she looks. . . She looks sad. But sometimes she’s smiling.” Anakin smiles, too. “She doesn’t look the way I remember her. I don’t want to say older. . . just more beautiful, really.”
“She was very beautiful, inside and out,” is all Obi-Wan can muster, and that is the truth – an angel stolen from this realm far too soon, needed on the other side. Obi-Wan is relieved when the toy droid suddenly floats up in front of Anakin’s face, beeping and humming.
Anakin grins. “He’s so cute. This is perfect.” He reclines back in his Master’s open arms and watches the droid exploring its new space. “Do you think it would be okay if we reach out? I want to say thank you.”
“Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but afterwards. I’m sure it’s an emotional time for the Lands clan right now. We need to give them their privacy. We don’t want to pull Ferus away from any obligations.”
Anakin blows out a breath. He knows Obi-Wan is right, but how he longs to hear Ferus’ voice. And his scheduled call won’t be for another four rotations.
“I really can’t believe he did all this,” Anakin utters in wonder. “The gifts, the note – and not just the way it started, but all of it. I’ve been feeling like he’s done, you know? Like he was slowly trying to move on without us. Lately, he’s been hesitating when I tell him I miss him, and then, the other day, he didn’t say it back at all. . . but this. . . This feels like he’s still holding on, like he still wants to be in our lives.”
“I think he does, love.” Obi-Wan coaxes Anakin’s head to his shoulder and scratches his fingernails along his scalp. “But to so suddenly lose a spouse. . . You must try to understand.”
“I do. I mean, I don’t, not really; until now, I’ve never been in a romantic relationship, much less had to cope with a loss from one.”
Obi-Wan is disturbed at the amount of references Anakin is unknowingly making to his forgotten life this evening. He swallows hard, waiting for him to continue.
“But I am trying to be respectful, but I think he needs us, Obi-Wan, and we need him. I hope we can see him soon, but did you notice how quiet he got when I asked on the last call?”
“Darling, I know you’ve always been bold in expressing your needs and feelings, but in this case; it’s important that you let him come to us; you don’t want to drive him away.”
“That’s the last thing I want to do.”
“I know. So, please, just trust me on this.”
“I do. I don’t want to say you know Ferus better, but the two of you are a lot alike. . . That’s why I love you both so much.” Anakin snuggles to Obi-Wan’s side.
“And that’s how I know he loves you, as I do, but for now, that will have to be enough. It seems he’s not ready for a visit, so it’s imperative you don’t push. . . I am so very sorry that you’re stuck with me for the time being,” Obi-Wan feigns offense.
Anakin laughs. “You should be; it’s been terrible,” he informs grumpily, but a smile is ever-present on his face. “Finally having you all to myself. . . Ick. Awful.” Anakin tranquilly lays his head upon his Master’s chest, feeling the rumble of his deep chuckle. “Happy Life Day, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says languidly – lovingly.
“Happy Life Day, sweetheart.” Obi-Wan presses his lips to the top of Anakin’s head.
Into the night, Anakin isn’t able to sleep. . . but it isn’t the childlike eve of Life Day anticipation; his thoughts weigh heavy on other things. He crawls over Obi-Wan and off the bed, leaving a peck on his cheek before he does, then wanders out into the dark night to look up at the stars.
Anakin thinks of his mother first, remembering his boyhood here on this sandy planet with her – how special she’d made the holiday, how loved she’d made him feel. He thinks about how Obi-Wan had taken the reins in the years following, and how thankful he is to have him in the way he does during this dreadful, difficult period in the galaxy. He takes a moment to remember the Jedi whose lives were lost, and feels nostalgic thinking of how the Temple had been this time of year. Even without the decorations or holiday music, there was a feeling of magic in the air, especially amongst the younger generations. The peace felt by the citizens across the worlds would bring an increased sense of peace to all their hearts. It was a time when Anakin could release his greatest burden, gain freedom from animosity and pain. A time when he’d feel like a normal, proper Padawan. . . a Padawan more like Ferus. . .
Anakin feels desperate to talk to him. It’s late – any family festivities Ferus would’ve been involved in are surely over by now. And the call isn’t to try to guilt him into anything, or make him say he misses him. Anakin just wants to say thank you.
He moves back inside, quietly confiscates Obi-Wan’s comm device, and creeps to the back of the cave.
Ferus had spent Life Day Eve at Roan’s parent’s. Many other relatives had been there as well; it had been somber at times, remembering their lost family member, but mostly, a cheerful, love-filled event. When it got late, Ferus’ in-laws had offered to put him up for the night, but he’d declined their invitation, citing that Dona was expecting him back at the safehouse. . . But Ferus finds himself at a place he’d been avoiding since he’d arrived on Bellassa two and a half months ago. . . the doorstep of the home he once shared with his husband.
The house had been abandoned for nearly a year, since the Empire had infiltrated and forced them out. When Ferus works up the nerve to enter, his heart breaks at its condition – furniture overturned, precious possessions on the floor. . . In true Ferus fashion, he immediately begins to put things back where they belong, trying to focus on what he is doing and not where he is.
Time passes as he immerses himself in common household chores. He sweeps, clears cobwebs, dusts objects and fixtures. He stays in the living areas of the home, but soon runs out of things to do there. And so, he wanders to the back of the house – to Roan’s and his bedroom.
As he always does, Ferus resists the urge to breakdown. He keeps busy putting discarded dresser drawers back in their place, picking up clothing off the floor and neatly folding it. When he gathers up the first garment of Roan’s, he falters. He squeezes the fabric in his fists. He starts to bring it up to his chest, to hold it close, to hug it, as if he can hold a part of his husband once again. He thinks better of it, ever so carefully folds the tunic, and puts it in its drawer.
Ferus continues on. He absentmindedly strips the bed and carries the linens out to be laundered, but upon reentering the room, he immediately regrets what he’s done. . . Momentarily eyeing the pair of pillows, he sniffles back unbidden tears and turns his attention to the closet that also needs straightening. . . but he doesn’t make it that far.
Ferus’ fingers graze the bare mattress as his mind is filled with echoes of memories – of he and Roan cuddling and laughing here. Having late-night talks here. Making love. He remembers their last Life Day together. They had exchanged gifts in this very room, right there on the rug on the side of the bed. Ferus snatches his lover’s pillow and hugs it the way he’d stopped himself from hugging his tunic. He buries his face in it, trying to stifle a sob, sinking down to the floor to the spot where they’d celebrated their last Life Day Eve.
Ferus isn’t sure how long he sits there on the rug hugging the naked pillow that sadly no longer even smells like his mate. He is in agony. Literal pain. He’s not felt the loss so keenly as he does now. The house is so quiet, so empty. The floor is so cold. But even though he’s incredibly tired and he’d love to rest, he can’t bring himself to climb into the bed – their bed.
The ache in his chest is paramount. Ferus feels he can’t breathe. How could Roan be gone? How could he have lost him? Why can’t they be together? How can he go on with the knowledge that life will never be the same?
Never again will he feel his lover’s arms around him in their bed at night. He’ll never hear the sound of his joyful laugh or husky voice whispering in his ear. He’ll never smell the woodsy scent of his freshly washed hair, won’t touch his warm skin or hold his callused hand. And his soft, plump lips will never again leave a sweet goodnight peck beside his nose.
Ferus rises, a desperation piercing. He has to do something – anything! He can’t take the solitude. He can’t take this torturous void-like feeling, knowing that it won’t soon come to an end. He’d made a mistake in coming here, but now he’s stuck. It’s late – Dona will assume he’s staying with the Lands. He can’t return to the safehouse; he’d probably scare them all out of their wits – risk getting shot.
Ferus abandons the pillow and abruptly bolts from the bedroom. He takes a lap around the kitchen table, gasping short breaths as he does. His hands are shaking while he grasps the back of a chair for support. It feels as if the walls are closing in – black spots and pressure behind his eyes, a heaviness in his head. Now, his knees buckle, but just before they give, Ferus is startled by the sound of his comm device, his body jolted from its weakened state and thrusted into high alert mode.
Ferus recognizes the frequency. He urgently accepts the transmission and prays Anakin is safe.
“Happy Life Day,” Anakin greets melodiously.
Ferus lets out a breath.
“Fess?? Are you there?”
Ferus inhales deep, trying to suppress the sobs that are once again on the forefront of his lips. He takes a seat at the table, hunching over as his shoulders pulsate. He shields his face and screws his eyes shut as he speaks, “I’m here,” he forces his voice to sound steady. “It’s late. What are you doing up? Are you feeling all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine; I just wanted to talk to you. . . Is this a bad time?”
“No,” Ferus soothes. “Not at all.”
“I didn’t wake you?”
“No. You didn’t.”
“So, why weren’t you sleeping?” Anakin pretends to interrogate.
Ferus laughs stuffily and avoids the question. “Where’s Ben?”
“He is asleep,” Anakin admits. “He told me to wait to call, but. . .”
Ferus chuckles. “Well, I’m glad you have that tendency to disobey,” he teases. “It was very sweet of you to call.”
Anakin smiles. “Well, I am your ‘sweet Anakin,’” he emphasizes.
Ferus frantically shushes him. “Careful with what you say!” he reminds.
“Sorry,” Anakin replies with a wince.
“It’s okay. . . You opened your gift a little early, I see.”
“The eve counts, and it’s after midnight. . . Happy Life Day, Fess,” Anakin repeats the phrase that started the call.
Ferus sucks in a breath as tears streak over his cheeks. “H-happy Life Day,” he pushes out as naturally as he can.
“I wish you’d get that stupid projector fixed; I want to see you – I miss you so much.” It’s a reflex. Anakin doesn’t want to put pressure on Ferus, but he can never not say it.
Ferus’ voice quakes. “I miss you, too.”
Anakin exhales serenely. “I really commed to say thank you. Thank you so much for Leven. He’s great, and the color. . . Fess, you’re the best.”
“You already named him.” Ferus feels his heart fill with warmth.
“It was kind of hard not to; the name is in the number.”
“You’re right; that’s the name I’d imagined you’d select, actually.” Ferus had also imagined Anakin’s gorgeous smile and the blue light of the droid endearingly brightening his face.
“O– Ben loves his gift, too, and it looks amazing on him. . . Thank you,” Anakin tells him again. “And I’m sorry we didn’t have anything for you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ferus replies kindly. “And that’s okay; I didn’t need anything,” he rushes the words. “I wanted. . . I wanted you to have something from me – to think of me.”
“I’m thinking of you all the time,” Anakin blurts truthfully.
Ferus is fighting a dam from breaking. He wants to talk to Anakin; he needs to talk to him, but he doesn’t want Anakin to know the state he’s in.
“Akkani says thanks, too,” Anakin lets out a little giggle.
Ferus’ lips curl in spite of his internal torment. “Of course. She’s part of the family.” He wishes he’d said ‘your family,’ because Ferus knows Anakin will perceive him to have meant it as, ‘their family,’ because Anakin still sometimes asks when he’s coming ‘home.’ And Ferus doesn’t want to lead him on, but he doesn’t know where home is any longer, and he isn’t sure whom he considers family these days. . . How he wants to let himself give into everything Anakin wants, because deep down, he wants those same things.
Anakin silently beams. “H-how was your night?” he asks a little unsure.
“Fine,” Ferus grits out. “Just fine.” He is trying to convince Anakin and himself alike.
“I-I wish we were together,” Anakin can’t help but confess.
“So do I,” Ferus bawls, and he knows there is no hiding it.
Anakin can hear the hysterics. “Fess,” he speaks the name with the utmost sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m fine. I’m okay,” Ferus lets out shakily.
“You’re not. I can’t imagine how hard tonight is for you. I wish I could do something; I want to be there for you, like you were there for me,” Anakin sounds distressed. “What can I do? Please,” he pleads, his own voice beginning to tremble. “How can I help you?”
“You can’t,” Ferus replies hoarse and barely audible. “I’m sorry– I have to go,” he chokes out.
“No, please wait. Don’t go like this.”
“I promise I’ll call soon. All right? Promise.” Ferus struggles to sound pleasant and upbeat. “You and Ben have a good Life Day. Do that for me, okay?”
“Okay,” Anakin agrees sadly; he doesn’t want to push Ferus more than he already has. “Please let us know if there’s anything we can do. Anything, even from afar. We care so much about you. We just want you to be okay.”
“I appreciate that. Talk soon, okay?”
Anakin knows he’ll have to be the one to disconnect; Ferus is too polite and considerate to do it first. Anakin hopes he isn’t alone, prays he has someone there to comfort him. He’s tempted to hop a transport and fly halfway across the galaxy, right now – this instant – to be the one to do it himself. “Okay. I hope you have a good day, too. You should get some rest.”
“Thanks. I’ll try.”
“Goodnight.”
“'Night.”
Anakin ends the call and hangs his head, clutching the dead device in his metal palm.
“What’s the matter, dear one?” Obi-Wan approaches. He’d nearly panicked when he’d awoken and Anakin wasn’t beside him, but he’d heard his muffled voice in the back of the cave. A handsome, but devastated face meets his gaze. “What is it, love?” Obi-Wan’s arms surround him.
“I commed him.”
“Is he all right??”
“No. He’s upset! He’s so sad. I wish we could be there to help him get through this.”
“Oh, darling.” Obi-Wan rubs Anakin’s shoulders, delicately leading him to the front of their dwelling. “I wish we were all together, too.” Obi-Wan’s mouth stretches in a thin line, “Didn’t I tell you it best we wait to comm him?” he mildly chastises.
“I don’t regret it,” Anakin defends. “He said it was sweet of me to reach out and he was glad I did. I could tell he meant it. He was okay at first, but then, he started crying. . .” Anakin’s own lip quivers. “I hate this.”
“I know.” Obi-Wan assist Anakin in settling on their sleep space. “I know this is hard. Ferus has to work this out himself. There really isn’t much we can do.”
“Yes, there is,” Anakin argues with a pout. “We could hug him, and tell him we love him – make it where he doesn’t feel so alone. Why won’t he let us be there for him?” Anakin whimpers.
“We all grieve differently, sweetheart.”
“He’s doing it wrong,” Anakin fusses, and he knows his words are ridiculous.
Obi-Wan releases a low laugh. “You know what I’m going to say. . .”
“There’s no right or wrong way,” Anakin answers rehearsed. “I know that, Master. I know.”
Obi-Wan smiles at Anakin’s use of ‘Master’ when their topic of conversation is geared toward a lesson. He’s still holding his Padawan close, fingers moving through the little sprouts of hairs at the back of his neck that are just beginning to curl.
“I need to see him. It’s been too long.”
Obi-Wan would have to agree.
Suddenly, Leven is hovering overhead and beeping and chirping with urgency.
“Hey, I thought I put you in low power mode,” Anakin comments curiously.
The droid continues his coded chatter as Anakin deciphers what he’s trying to tell them. “He says he has a holo recording of Ferus in his memory bank.” Anakin grins, still listening intently as the droid relays. “He says Ferus asked for his consent before he painted him,” Anakin chuckles, and Obi-Wan does, too. “Leven agreed, but offered to record the process to make it official.”
Anakin waits in anticipation as Leven projects a small, blue display from his center eye.
“No, don’t record. That’s okay,” Ferus complains. “It’s fine. If you say you’re okay with it, then there’s no need for it. _ _ _ _ _ _ Because I’m not a big fan of being captured on holo. _ _ _ _ _ _ Thank you.”
Ferus’ face can be seen close to what would be the lens as he focuses on his painting project, lengthy locks falling in his eyes, the start of a light beard along his jaw.
“He’s so scruffy looking!” Anakin shrieks gleefully. “Oh, Force, he’s adorable!”
Obi-Wan laughs. “Very.” Adorable, yes, but Obi-Wan can’t help but notice how tired Ferus looks, shadows beneath his dark eyes like the shadow of stubble upon his face. . . which Obi-Wan isn’t confident is a fashion statement, but more a lack of regard.
“Try not to flap your wings, please,” Ferus finally speaks again after a long moment. “Huh? _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Anakin,” Ferus annunciates. “Remember? You sure do ask a lot of questions; like I told you, Anakin will take good care of you. Trust me.”
Anakin and Obi-Wan exchange charmed looks as the recording continues to play.
“No, Anakin won’t do that; he’s not a child. He’ll appreciate you all year, not just on Life Day, I promise. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Because I know; I know Anakin. He treats droids the way he treats sentients, and with all the personality you seem to have, I can assure you that’ll be the case.” Ferus chuckles lightly. “Yes, very kind. Very smart; if you need any sort of maintenance, he can handle it himself. And he’d probably do a better job at painting you than I am._ _ _ _ _ _ _ Because I want to surprise him; he can re-do it later if he wants.”
Obi-Wan is enthralled at the way Ferus pacifies the droid – just as Anakin would. Here is the proof of just how much he’d changed since his youth. Ferus had always been noble and empathetic, but now he also exemplified this undeniable passion that he wore so gracefully and beautifully – matched by his physical appearance; he watches mesmerized as Ferus continuously pushes those pesky silver strands from his rugged, wrinkled brow. He periodically smiles, but Obi-Wan can see it is with a lack of feeling, the laugh lines never extending to accentuate his sorrowful brown eyes. Despite what he says to Anakin, Obi-Wan is beginning to have doubts about Ferus handling his grief in his own way. He is beginning to agree with Anakin that Ferus needs them – Ferus needs Anakin.
“Well, what else do you want to know? _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Obi-Wan?” Ferus snuffs a laugh. “Yes, you’ll like him, too; you’ll love them both – I do.”
Obi-Wan’s heart skips a beat; he hopes Anakin won’t read too much into that. He clutches him more tightly to him.
“I don’t know,” Ferus continues. “Maybe. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just can’t right now; I have a lot going on here. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ You detect deception? What??” Ferus lets out a more genuine chuckle. “I have a feeling you and Anakin are going to get along famously. . . What is this orange light? You better not be recording! Great. A disobedient droid; Obi-Wan is going to kill me.”
The holo fades out as Anakin and Obi-Wan laugh.
“Thanks, Leven,” Anakin breathes out. “That’s just what I needed. And don’t worry – Ferus is right, you’ll be well looked after with Obi-Wan and me.”
The droid beeps and boops in response.
“No, I don’t think you require repainting; Ferus did a good job, and I like that he’s the one who did the customizing – makes you extra special.” Anakin eyes Obi-Wan with a pouty lip poked out. “He’s extra special,” he tells him.
“Yes, he is.” Obi-Wan grips Anakin as he falls into his arms.
“Did you catch that? What Ferus said? About the both of us. . .”
“I don’t want you to overthink that,” Obi-Wan warns sharply. He’s trying not to overthink it himself.
“It has to mean something, right?”
“It means he cares for us; I’m not sure it means any more than that.”
Anakin ponders for a moment. “Yeah, no, I’m gonna overthink it.”
Obi-Wan chuckles.
“I’ll need a distraction,” Anakin suggests with a cunning smirk. He tugs Obi-Wan down to meet his lips, but doesn’t kiss him. “Life Day sex?” he proposes devilishly.
Obi-Wan hums. “Well, I suppose it is time we adopted some new traditions.” He steals the kisses he’d been denied, pausing briefly to hurriedly remove his sleep tunic. . .
Leven lets out a catcall whistle.
Anakin can be heard cackling as Obi-Wan frowns.
“Ferus was right – I’m going to kill him.” Obi-Wan aggressively summons the droid with the Force, and Anakin clumsily intercepts the catch.
“He only said what I was thinking,” Anakin points out matter-of-factly. “Say goodnight, Leven.” The droid beeps one last time as Anakin verifies he is definitely in low power mode this shutdown. “Now. . . about that new tradition. . . ”
There is a gleam in Obi-Wan’s eye; he nearly growls as he pounces his mate.
Notes:
Anakin has sex now! More details on that later 😏
And I promise our sweet baby Ferus will be reunited with Anakin and Obi-Wan VERY soon. He just doesn’t yet understand how badly he needs them 💔
SO. Let’s talk about that art. Um, ADORABLE. Gah! They're so cute! So snuggly! And so in love 🥺 They're gorgeous, as are the incredible light effects 🤯 -which Bere and I collaborated on at the last minute lol, and we had great fun 🥲 If you aren't familiar with Bere's art, check him out on tumblr twitter or insta. You will find the most wonderful balance of fluff and spice, and you will not be disappointed 🔥
I hope you liked the chapter and the art! You’ve all been pretty quiet, but I really hope you’re still out there; it’s hard to know if you are. Please consider giving me what I would define as the GREATEST Life Day present I could ever receive in the form of a comment below – simple keyboard smashes and emojis wildly accepted and appreciated. I’d love a copy and paste of a sentence you liked, or even just “second kudos” would mean the world to me 💗
Thank you for reading, and I hope you all have a wonderful holiday 😘
Chapter Text
Six weeks have passed since Life Day.
It has not been an easy six weeks for Ferus, as he has officially moved back into the house he’d owned with Roan. As a result, he’s been traveling more frequently, checking in with former clients, and soliciting for new ones. And even though there is no current plan to rise up and rebel, he also does a more comprehensive search for intel that might lead him to other Jedi. He wants to spread awareness about the asteroid base – to let other survivors know they aren’t alone, and should they need a safe place of refuge, they have it.
Dona accompanies him on these excursions, some of the time. She also makes a point to regularly visit him when he’s home. . . because Dona is worried.
Originally, she’d thought returning to Bellassa would do Ferus some good – to surround himself with family, to face his grief head on, but Ferus is now faced with a new kind of grief on top of his grief for Roan. He is a victim of more painful separations. . . and Ferus doesn’t seem to be acknowledging any of these losses.
He always promises he’s fine. He always pretends everything is okay. He’ll always greet Dona kindly and upbeat, but she knows of the sorrow underlying – she can see the physical evidence of it. The Ferus Dona had come to know – the organized business man, the always put-together leader, is now often in the same attire across rotations. Stressed and weary eyes are always shielded by his unwashed, shoulder-length hair, and his forced smile is masked by overgrown stubble. And in just the last week, Dona has noticed he’s looking a bit slimmer.
Ferus appears lost – lonely. He makes his call to Anakin and Obi-Wan each week, but Dona knows he isn’t making any groundbreaking emotional progress there, as he mostly stays silent, letting the other men drive the conversations.
Thinking that a reunion might help Ferus to deal with his repressed feelings, she has encouraged him to schedule a visit more than once; Ferus can’t be with Roan, but he can be with Anakin and Obi-Wan. Why would he deny himself the pleasure? But each time Dona makes the suggestion, Ferus gives an excuse as to why it’s not a possibility.
But Dona Telamark has always been a persistent woman, and she maintains Ferus needs some sort of company other than herself and business clients.
“Have you checked in with Trever lately?” she asks him casually one afternoon.
“Last week.” Ferus doesn’t look up from the data pad he’s plucking on, planning his next voyage to follow up with an ally on Mygeeto. “He’s doing good, being a son and big brother. He’s happy.”
“Are you happy?”
Ferus sniggers. “Um, well, I don’t really know what happy looks like anymore; I’m an ex, ex-Jedi in hiding from a ruthless Empire that has destroyed much of what I love, condemning me to suffer the same fate.”
Dona exhales. “I know. I know all that. I just mean, I think you can find happiness in some form – elsewhere. . . or with other people. . .” she says intently.
Ferus withholds his aggravated sigh, because he does appreciate her concern, and her being indirect, and not saying their names. “Soon. I’m swamped with work right now.”
“You’re making it that way; it doesn’t have to be. You can conduct business from anywhere in the galaxy. It’s not as if your clientele need continued support or appointments. You help people, and then, they move on. . . And maybe it’s time for you to move on, too, Fairy.”
“No.” Ferus sounds unnecessarily stubborn – childlike and moody.
Dona smiles at his pout. “Just go for a visit.”
“A visit where?” Ferus pretends, the words sharp.
“You know where. Go to Tatooine. Go see Anakin. Go see Obi-Wan.”
“I can’t.”
“You won’t.”
“Dona, it’s complicated. I can’t let them think. . .”
“You can’t let them think what? That you care about them? Why not? Anakin and Obi-Wan want you in their lives no matter what that means. They miss you.”
“Yeah?” Ferus chuckles ironically. “And how do you know that?”
“Because they told me so.”
Ferus finally looks at her, his eyes narrowed. “You talked to them? When?” he interrogates.
Dona shrugs and gives a sly smirk. “Obi-Wan and I exchanged comm frequencies when I picked you up on Tatooine.”
Ferus’ mouth hangs open. “How often do you talk to them?”
“Often enough.”
“What have they. . . ? Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
“Why don’t you want to know? What harm will it do to let yourself get close to them?”
“I can’t,” Ferus protests weakly.
“You need to let people in, even if it isn’t Anakin and Obi-Wan. There are many others who care for you. Why don’t the two of us make a trip to Belazura? Let’s go see Trever. He can always make you smile. Lune, too.”
Ferus scrunches his face in contemplation. It’s not a bad idea. “Why do I sense you have an ulterior motive?”
“My motive is for you to be happy, munchkin.” Dona kisses Ferus’ cheek and his laugh is joyful. “Pack your things; let’s take a vacation – or the closest thing we can get to a vacation these days.”
Ferus grins. “Okay, I’m in.”
*
Just two rotations later, Ferus find himself on Belazura at the residence of his friend, Clive Flax. The sizable dwelling was one that Clive had inherited at a time before he was old enough to live in it alone. Now, the once solitary nomad has transplanted into the very soil from which he’d chosen to uproot. . . and he had done it in the name of love in the likes of Astri and her son, Lune. Trever, the fourteen-year-old who Clive had felt bonded with over a similar past, was an added bonus. And Ferus will be forever grateful that the troubled teen has found family here.
Ferus observes that the four of them seem to have settled in nicely – as if they’ve all lived together for ages despite only a few months having passed. The atmosphere they’ve created is warm and inviting. Ferus feels welcome, and wanted, and surprisingly at peace.
On its own, Belazura is a planet known for its prime vacation spots, ranging from mountainous grasslands, to sandy beaches. In some regions, there are open fields of flowers, while others are populated with forests of the tallest trees. The weather is extraordinary and unchanging – the temperature neither hot nor cold, perfectly balanced by the most gentle gulf breeze.
Ferus feels leisurely here. He loves the planet he’d adopted as his own, but he’d needed a break from the memories that haunt him there. He’d even needed a break from work and his fixation on the aftermath of the fallen Republic and the purge. It’s nice to focus on friends instead of foes, and it’s wonderful to have Trever and Lune shine some light upon his darkened heart.
But Ferus can’t evade his thoughts of Anakin. . . Anakin would love it here; he had spoken of a time when he and Obi-Wan had come here. Anakin had only been a preteen, but talked of how it had been one of the best times in his life.
Anakin and Obi-Wan don’t know Ferus is on Belazura; he plans to make his weekly call in the morning, and will tell them then.
Ferus is sitting on the back patio, enjoying the calm, warm winds while Lune sits adjacent reading a book. There haven’t been many words exchanged between them, but somehow Ferus feels they are connecting. It is likely the child’s sensitivity to the Force; Garen had begun his basic Jedi training, as intended.
“What are you doing, scud-sucker?” Trever strides in with a good-humored insult.
Ferus appreciates that Trever hasn’t changed despite his new living arrangements. He’s still a hilarious pill that Ferus can easily digest. “Just getting some peace and quiet away from you, moof brain,” he counters jokingly. “Your brother is trying to read out here, by the way. . . This is the quiet room.” Ferus looks over at Lune, but the young boy seems unaware Trever has even entered the space. Most recently, Garen had been guiding him in meditation tactics, teaching him how to control his surroundings – to be both in tune, and out, depending on what the circumstances or occasion called for.
“He can read anywhere,” Trever confirms. “He's always reading.”
“Maybe you should try it sometime,” Ferus proposes. It serves as both a jab and a well-intentioned suggestion.
Trever makes a face. “They have me back in school, you know; I read enough there.”
Ferus smiles fondly.
“Are you still going to call Anakin tomorrow?” Trever questions.
Why does his heart rate always rise at the name? Ferus regulates his breathing, “I am.”
“Can I talk to him, too?”
“It’s a short call, usually. . . and it’s typically early – earlier than you get out of bed,” Ferus ridicules with a grin.
“I’ll get up to talk to Anakin.”
Ferus half smiles. “Well, I’m sure he would like to talk to you.”
“Why don’t we just invite him to come here? And I guess, I can deal with Obi-Wan, too,” Trever teases. “It seems you’re the more uptight one these days anyway. . . Feri-Wan.”
Ferus shoves his young mate playfully.
“So, what do you think? Let’s ask them to come when we talk tomorrow.”
It actually sounds amazing. “No, Anakin needs to stay on Tatooine. He doesn’t need to travel excessively.”
“It’s not excessive; his surgery was months ago now. Plus, I already asked Clive and Astri, and they said it’s fine.”
Ferus’ eyes widen; he starts to speak – to reprimand. . . but he doesn’t know what the reprimand would be for.
“I know you miss him. . .” Trever taunts. “Your babydoll.” He dramatically bats his lashes.
“Lay off,” Ferus chortles nervously as he attempts to swat at Trever again. “And I’m spending time with you right now; I’ll see Anakin and Obi-Wan another time.”
“But I want to see them, too,” Trever whines.
“Another time,” Ferus reiterates in finality.
“I swear, Ferus, you just love to suck the fun out of everything. Dona was right – you’re a pro at self-deprivation.”
“What?” Ferus should be offended, but he’s too busy laughing. “You don’t even know what that means!” he cackles.
“It means you’re a Jedi monk – not the cool kind of Jedi like Anakin, but the kind like Obi-Wan who probably thinks having a good time means reading a stupid book. . . No offense, Lune.”
“None taken,” Lune chirps without taking his eyes from his children’s novel.
Ferus smiles at the brotherly banter, then raises a brow. “I believe you’ve seriously misjudged Obi-Wan in the short time you’ve spent with him.”
“First impressions last forever. . . but if you’d give him another chance to make a new impression, my mind could be changed. . .”
“No.”
Dona enters, looking hopeful and expectant, but Trever lets her know he’s failed in his mission, “He’s not having it. . . I guess we better tell him.”
“Tell me what?” Ferus bellows. He glares at Trever.
Dona smiles uncomfortably. “Well. Fairy. Anakin and Obi-Wan should be here by tomorrow afternoon.”
“WHAT?” Ferus leaps to his feet.
“This is a good thing,” Dona reassures with a hand on his shoulder.
“Is it?!” Ferus shrieks. He puts an exasperated palm to his forehead. “When did. . . ? I knew it. I knew you were going to do something like this.” He begins pacing. “You’ve been planning this all along! Both of you!”
“Well, I’ve gotten really tired of trying to convince you to go see them, so I figured I’d ask them to come meet us here.” Dona’s voice is less friendly and more argumentative. Stubborn as he could be, Dona loves Ferus and knows this is what’s best for him.
Ferus feels angry at the intrusion – his privacy invaded – his friends going behind his back trying to tempt fate. They had no right! . . .But his rage is subsiding quickly as the prospect is sinking in. . . “Tomorrow??” he suddenly queries shyly.
Dona grins. “Mmhmm.”
“What, um. . . What did they say? They wanted to come??”
“I don’t wanna come if Ferus doesn’t want me there,” Dona imitates a deep voice with youthful speech. “Anakin was a little tricky to convince, actually. He was worried you wouldn’t like the surprise, but you do, don’t you?”
Ferus’ lips curl imagining hearing those words in Anakin’s actual voice – so pitiful and fishing.
“You’re welcome,” Dona sings.
And Ferus is thankful. . . Anakin and Obi-Wan here with him – tomorrow! . . .Tomorrow. . . tomorrow. . . Anxiety comes crashing back. Ferus blows out a tension-filled breath and eyes Dona. “Tomorrow??” he repeats, this time laced with uncertainty.
“Don’t worry.” Dona pushes Ferus’ messy hair from his eyes and tucks the strands behind his ear. “We’ll help you pull yourself together.”
“Yeah, you really look like crap,” Trever informs.
“I’m well aware,” Ferus groans.
*
Anakin and Obi-Wan are approaching Belazura, and Obi-Wan can see how Anakin’s face continues to brighten the closer they get to their destination.
“Dear one,” Obi-Wan prompts.
“Yep?” Anakin is jittery, ready to land the craft and land in Ferus’ arms.
“I just want to remind you of what we discussed. . . I know what you hope will come out of this visit, but I need you to be prepared if things don’t go just how you plan.”
Anakin doesn’t want to hear this. Yes, he knows. He’s got it – he’s prepared. . . somewhat.
While Obi-Wan is glad that Dona has arranged this meeting, he wishes she had been more coy in Ferus’ behaviors over the last several weeks. Obi-Wan knows Ferus has missed them; he’d believed that without Dona’s communications. Ferus needs this reunion, but that doesn’t mean he wants a romance, or will let himself have one. Obi-Wan doesn’t want Anakin to misconstrue his interest.
Anakin is silent, fidgeting with the ship’s control panel. “Baby,” Obi-Wan tries. “I’m not saying it can’t happen, but I just don’t want you left heartbroken if it doesn’t, all right? Try not to bank on this visit being so life-changing. I know you’d like things to progress now, but if they don’t, that doesn’t mean they never will.”
Anakin nods with eyes still focused on the console.
“And I want you to remember what I said about being pushy; don’t force it – let him come to you.”
“To us,” Anakin corrects.
Obi-Wan involuntarily chuckles. “You need to be prepared for that to go differently than you hope for as well.”
“But you said Ferus knows we love each other – that you told him what I want.”
“I did, love, but to ask him to commit to one person right now is a lot, let alone two. So, I think it best if we don’t ask anything of him. Let’s just enjoy our time with him and let nature take its course.”
“You’re at least going to try, right??”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, let him know you want him. Don’t be so Jedi about it. Try to be sexy.”
Obi-Wan barks in laughter. “I didn’t know I had to try to be sexy,” he scoffs sarcastically.
“You know what I mean.”
“You mean you plan to seduce Ferus, and you want me to try the seduction tactic as well.”
“Right,” Anakin grins.
“Were you not present for the entire conversation we just had?”
“What’d you say, Master?”
“Nothing, apparently.” Obi-Wan sighs and shakes his head smiling.
*
It’s the following afternoon, and Anakin and Obi-Wan should arrive at any moment; Ferus is antsy. He stands in front of a mirror, straightening his collar and tousling his freshly cut hair, pulling some of the longer, silver strands to ruggedly dance upon his brow. This ‘new’ style in reminiscent to what he wore in his youth – parted fringe in the front, cropped short in the back. He’d also shaved the scruff off his face and lathered on lotions and other scented products. This was after he’d taken a shower that was lengthy enough to make up for all the ones he’d missed in the last couple of months. The scrub down had let him step out restored, and step into new garments in various shades of gray. He’s ready, and he’s not ready. He actually feels faint. He realizes he hasn’t felt nerves like this since he’d first begun dating Roan. Thankfully, before the familiar pain wells up at the reminder of what he’s lost, Trever approaches and interrupts his thoughts.
“You’re a goner,” Trever quips from behind.
Ferus looks at him through the reflection of the mirror and scowls.
Trever’s smile is mischievous. “What do you plan to do when you see them?” He makes the kissy faces any teen-aged little brother would make in a situation such as this.
Ferus spins and swats a hand at the lovable boy.
“Did you get new clothes for your babydoll, too?”
“YOU! Get out of here! I—” Ferus sucks in a breath as Trever laughs. “Listen,” he starts calmly. “Can you take some time off from torturing me and give us a little privacy? Please?”
“That’s exactly what he’s going to do,” Dona announces as she enters the room. “They’re here,” she tells Ferus.
“Okay,” Ferus pushes out a puff of air, his eyes large, heart pounding.
“WE will be out back if you need us.” Dona tugs Trever along to join Clive, Astri, and Lune at the opposite end of their home.
Ferus makes his way to the foyer of the house, his hands shaking. He hears the sounds of muffled bickering coming through the door. He chuckles, and instantly relaxes. It’s Anakin and Obi-Wan. It’s them. Ferus hits the control pad, and the entry door slides open. . .
And there is Anakin.
Anakin with a super-sized grin that makes Ferus’ heart clench and his eyes burn.
“Fess!” Anakin shouts gleefully.
And Anakin is in his arms, and Ferus hasn’t felt such joy in months. He clutches the warm body, clad in the cozy, plush pullover he’d selected months prior.
“I missed you,” Anakin whispers near his ear.
Ferus swallows hard. “I missed you, too,” he returns emotionally. “I shouldn’t have left.” A slip of the tongue, and there is the telltale truth. Why had he left? How could he have left?
Anakin pulls back from the embrace, but keeps his hands on Ferus’ shoulders. “I understand why you did.”
Ferus is in awe as he gets a better look at his cherished friend. Anakin looks. . . Well, he looks more like Anakin. The winning smile, of course, but there is minimal scarring on his face now. His beautiful blue eyes blink in excitement, outlined by long lashes and accented with kempt brows. Short, sun-kissed curls cover his head, and Ferus wants to run his fingers through them. “You look so good.” His smile helps to fight the tears as he watches Anakin’s cheeks flush, reminding him of the pink hue they’d been in his youth.
“So do you!” Anakin beams, and the grip on Ferus’ shoulders transfers to his hands.
Ferus’ head snaps down at feeling the sensation of flesh as opposed to metal. His mouth opens in jubilant shock as he lifts Anakin’s right hand to have a better look at the synthetic covering.
“We couldn’t afford two yet,” Anakin explains.
“When did you get this?” Ferus cradles the hand in the both of his.
“Week before last, but I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, I’m surprised!” Ferus laughs. “This is incredible. How does it feel?”
“Better than durasteel, but it’s a low-grade type of synth-flesh. I’m hoping I can get the better stuff later on. . . What do you think?”
“I think. . . it’s great! You look. . .” Ferus releases the hand and reaches up to place a palm to Anakin’s cheek. He rubs his thumb over one of the few remaining rough patches under his eye.
“It’s. . . It’s gotten better, but I’m still. . . Well. . .”
“You look absolutely beautiful,” Ferus declares without hesitation. “Oh, Anakin, you look amazing!” He finally spreads his fingers through the wavy, bronze locks. “I worried about you getting in the sun, but you’re glowing!” The two share a laugh as Ferus continues to comb through Anakin’s hair, then down to caress his face once more.
“It’s you,” Anakin professes. “You make me glow.”
Ferus feels bashful.
Obi-Wan enters with the luggage he’d gone to retrieve in order to give his Padawan a private reunion with Ferus. He observes their close proximity, Ferus’ hand curled around Anakin’s neck, Anakin grasping him by the bicep. Obi-Wan grins when he meets Ferus’ brilliant gaze. He is stunned, but overjoyed when Ferus clobbers him in a hug that knocks the wind out of him.
“Oomph,” Obi-Wan chuckles, then squeezes him. “Darling,” he coos. “How are you?” He begins rocking Ferus in his arms when he doesn’t reply. He’s thrilled to see Ferus, and thrilled he’s feeling affectionate, for both his and Anakin’s sakes. Obi-Wan smooths the velvety hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re looking well – radiant.”
Ferus feels his face go hot, his dry mouth robbing him of voicing the ‘thank you’ caught in his throat. He looks into the kind eyes in the center of such a gorgeous face – the rosy nose above the toothy grin, framed with the famed ginger beard. He is embarrassed when his lip quivers, but Obi-Wan only smiles and strokes through his hair some more. Ferus averts timid eyes and notices Obi-Wan is wearing his Life Day gift; he moves his finger over the droplet. “You’re wearing it,” he murmurs.
“I always do.”
Anakin watches them adorningly. He places his flesh-covered hand upon Ferus’ shoulder. “Leven is charging on the ship; he’s excited to see you and wanted to be at full power.”
Ferus chuckles as he looks at Anakin again. He can’t believe how much he’s changed in just a few months; he’d missed it all – all the progress, every victory. He won’t be missing any of it going forward. On reflex, he holds his palm to Anakin’s face again. He feels Anakin take his waist; Ferus takes his in return. They move to rest their cheeks together, and Ferus closes his eyes. He’d never intended to let himself be so vulnerable. He’d known it was a possibility, and he’d made a strategic plan for how to prevent it from taking place. . . but that plan has been canceled, and forgotten, a new one in its place.
Anakin can’t fathom how well this is going – Ferus lovingly touching his face, combing through his hair, and telling him he’s beautiful. And Ferus was letting himself get close to Obi-Wan as well. This couldn’t have gone much better.
Anakin decides he’s ready to give Ferus the kiss he hadn’t given him when they’d said goodbye – the Obi-Wan kind of kiss. Anakin turns his head and delicately places his lips to Ferus’ cheek.
Still in his embrace, Anakin can’t believe the way Ferus is looking at him now - yearnful, without the threat of withdrawal. It is Anakin who shrinks this time, under the intense scrutiny of ardent brown eyes.
“So, this. . . This is okay?” he asks meekly. “I wasn’t so sure about Dona’s plan to ambush you.”
“It’s more than okay,” Ferus answers quickly – directly. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“I’m happy to see you, too. . . I’m repairing that projector while I’m here.”
Ferus will have to find a way to break it first, but he’s already decided there won’t be a need for holocalls going forward.
“This is a beautiful place,” Obi-Wan comments, chin tipped as he looks around. “Quieter than I expected,” he jests.
“Everyone is outside,” Ferus relays. “They’re all anxious to see you. . . I’ll show you where you can put your things, then I’ll take you to the patio; it’s my favorite place on the property.”
Obi-Wan starts to lift the luggage again, but Ferus intercedes.
“No, please, let me.”
Obi-Wan is mesmerized by the luminous face; he doesn’t believe he’s ever seen Ferus so serene, nor so confident as to maintain this degree of eye contact. Obi-Wan releases the luggage, but hasn’t yet been released of Ferus’ magnetic expression. “Thank you,” he stammers slowly.
When Ferus turns his back, Obi-Wan and Anakin exchange astonished looks. Anakin is wide-eyed and red-faced with sucked in lips. Obi-Wan stifles a laugh with a fist over his mouth, leading his Padawan to follow Ferus with a hand on the small of his back.
*
“Mom?” Lune calls as the family waits for their guests to greet them.
Having been in deep thought, Astri is startled and jumps. “Hmm?”
“What’s wrong? I can feel. . .” Lune tries to explain. He has detected his mother’s anxiousness, but can’t discern what it means or from where it stems.
“Nothing, honey; I’m fine. I’m just excited to see my friend again after such a long time.”
“Obi-Wan,” Lune confirms.
“Yes, Obi-Wan.”
“I can’t wait to meet him,” Lune grins. His mother had told him how he’d met Obi-Wan once before when he was a toddler, but he doesn’t remember. She’s mentioned the man multiple times in the last few months since she’d learned he’d survived the Jedi purge. In his informal training, Master Garen had mentioned him as well, and of course, Ferus had. Ferus spoke of him often – him and Anakin. Lune was excited to meet both great Jedi. His adopted brother had described Master Obi-Wan as a bit of a wet blanket, but he’d spoke of Anakin as a fearless hero. His mother had argued that statement – saying her friend, Obi-Wan was the most heroic Jedi she’d ever met, his bravery and kindness unmatched.
Lune can faintly sense the new Force-sensitives under the roof, one more strongly than the other – likely Master Anakin from what Trever had described. Lune watches his step-father, Clive, wrap a protective arm around his mother – in a way that provides comfort – a way to alleviate worry. . . What is his mom so concerned about?
Suddenly, the three men are crossing the threshold of the back door. Trever springs upright and runs to them. Lune enthusiastically trails behind.
Astri’s heart stops. She slowly rises, Clive’s hand upon her shoulder. The couple stay back, watching their children greet the two Jedi. She sees Obi-Wan stoop to Lune’s level to shake his hand. . . and though she is straining her ears to listen, everything around her goes quiet – the sound of her own breathing a loud echo in her head, with only the rapid beats of her heart heard drumming in the background.
Lune is surprised to find it is Obi-Wan who he’d felt more strongly in the Force; he knows that now as the man takes his hand. Obi-Wan seems to be studying him; Lune can feel him probing in the Force. He nudges back. . . It’s easy to do. He finds there’s something physical to push on. Obi-Wan’s Force signature isn’t like any of the other Jedi he’s encountered in the last few months. He can detect Obi-Wan is somewhat masking himself, the same way he’s been taught to do, but there’s a vibrancy that he hasn’t felt with any other. He clings to it, latches on to what feels strangely tangible.
Obi-Wan gawks at the child, trying to hide his shock, both upon his face, and in the Force. He can feel Anakin’s eyes on him. “Sorry. What?” Obi-Wan realizes the boy had been speaking.
“My mom!” Lune exclaims. He wouldn’t be greedy in taking all the time with his mom’s long-lost friend. He tugs on the large hand that still holds his as Obi-Wan rises and allows himself to be pulled forward.
Obi-Wan and Astri lock eyes. Obi-Wan had been looking forward to seeing her; it had been years – before the war, even. He recalls Lune had just turned three, and he would be nine now, if memory served him correctly. Obi-Wan had imagined what their reunion might be like. They’d smile, possibly cry tears of joy, give each other a great, big hug. They’d speak of how they’d missed one another, easily falling back into their old familiarity, probably exchanging an inside joke of the past. . . but all Obi-Wan can do is stare. And though his face is blank, his mind is anything but. He has many questions.
Astri falls in his arms, and Obi-Wan can feel her distress – how overwhelmed she is – how conflicted she is. . .
He holds her, leans forward, and rests his cheek to the top of her head, her springy, black curls tickling his neck.
“I thought you’d died in the purge,” Astri mutters first.
“You know me better than that,” Obi-Wan tells her quietly, but smugly. And finally, they smile at one another, but the unexpected heaviness of what goes unspoken between them remains.
Anakin had been closely watching his Master, feeling a shift in their muted bond, but his attention had easily returned to Ferus, who after the introductions and reintroductions, had pressed himself to Anakin’s side.
The backs of their hands are touching. Anakin smiles at him as he flips his palm, a single digit softly gliding over Ferus’ knuckles. It’s a way to touch him, sure, but it’s also a way to boast at how good he’s gotten with his fine motor skills.
Ferus grins, rotates his own wrist, and intertwines his fingers with Anakin’s.
Chapter 20
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It is a fun and cheerful afternoon on the patio with the party of eight laughing and catching up. The two youngest of the group do most of the entertaining, and it is fortunate, because the majority of the adults have much on their minds.
Astri engages Obi-Wan in conversations – to which he will always oblige, but all of their exchanges feel ingenuine and rehearsed. . . and they are both troubled by this.
Anakin and Ferus continue their own form of silent communication, their hands consistently and discreetly joined, knees touching. If they are sitting, they are sitting together, and when one rises, for any reason, the other does as well. Though they are enjoying the company, they are itching for some private time. . . and soon enough, they will have it.
The rotation after next will see Dona’s departure. She will return for Ferus when he is ready, but as evidenced by the way he refuses to separate from Anakin, she suspects he won’t be needing a ride back to Bellassa anytime soon.
That same day, the blended family of four, Clive, Astri, Lune, and Trever, will make an across-world trek for a small beach getaway. . . leaving Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ferus with the place to themselves; this had been the premediated plan all along.
For the moment, Anakin and Ferus have acquired a little quiet time, just the two of them, post evening meal. Everyone else had remained indoors while the pair had migrated back to the patio. Obi-Wan had promised to join them a while later.
Currently, Obi-Wan lingers in the kitchen. He brews some nighttime tea and listens to the others chat amongst themselves. He zeros in on everything Lune is saying – the child talks excitedly about the upcoming beach trip. When Astri announces it’s time for bed, Obi-Wan finds he doesn’t want to say goodnight, but he knows he’ll have no answers for the evening.
So, he pours two additional servings of his ‘sleepy tea’ and moves outdoors. Obi-Wan is smitten to see Anakin and Ferus sitting absurdly close. Their body language is open to one another. Their smiles are big as they talk at a low, intimate volume. Their fingers are tangled together.
Both sets of dreamy eyes meet his own as Obi-Wan puts the beverages on the small table in front of the loveseat the two share.
“Thank you,” Ferus tells Obi-Wan in gratitude when he registers the duo of cups.
“You’re welcome,” Obi-Wan replies kindly.
“Sit here with us.” Anakin scoots closer to Ferus to make room.
Obi-Wan smiles, but doesn’t move in. “I think I need to lie down, sweetheart.”
“What’s wrong?” Anakin questions in urgency. He rises and puts his arms around his Master’s waist.
Obi-Wan sighs and lets his head rest against Anakin’s. “Just tired, baby. I want to be worth something in the morning to spend time with you and Ferus. . . I’m not young like you boys,” he jokes and smooches Anakin’s cheek.
“You might be older, but I probably sleep four times as much as you do,” Anakin reminds.
Obi-Wan’s features appear warm. He holds Anakin’s face and gently kisses his lips.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Anakin worries.
Obi-Wan hums in the affirmative. “Enjoy this time with Ferus,” he directs. He really doesn’t want to put a damper on their sweet reunion.
“I’ll come to bed soon,” Anakin promises.
“Whenever you’re ready.” They kiss again.
“Love you,” Anakin professes.
“Love you, too.” Obi-Wan turns to Ferus. “Sorry I’m being an old geezer tonight.”
Ferus chuckles. “No worries; it’s one of my favorite things about you.” They share a hug that last longer than a beat. “Missed you,” Ferus relays for not the first time in the last several hours.
“I missed you, too. We’ll have time together tomorrow. I promise.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Goodnight, darling.”
“Goodnight,” Ferus says softly. He and Anakin watch the door close behind Obi-Wan. “You’re not tired, too?” Ferus checks with Anakin. “It was a long trip.”
“A little, but I want every second with you I can get.”
Ferus would normally argue that Anakin needs his rest, but he returns to his seat and lets Anakin curl up beside him. He doesn’t stiffen as he would’ve in the past, but instead, tenderly closes his arm around him.
At that, Anakin further snuggles into Ferus’ side, closing his eyes, head settled in the crook of his neck. “Just wake me if I nod off,” he mumbles.
Ferus laughs. “Well, you’re setting yourself up for failure like this.”
“You may be right.” Anakin sits up again. “And the incentive to stay awake is too great.”
Ferus looks at him adoringly. There’s so much he wants to say; there are things he wants to do, things he would’ve never considered doing before, not even yesterday – not even six hours ago. But the moment he’d laid eyes upon Anakin Skywalker again – the precious second he’d reentered his life, something in Ferus had awakened. The happiness he feels at having Anakin back in his field of vision, back within arm’s reach, is a happiness he thought he’d never know again. Ferus wants it, craves it, and for once, he’s willing to let himself have what he covets without reservations.
Anakin can feel the muted intensity from Ferus, and it’s nothing he’d expected from him, especially not in such a short frame of time. Obi-Wan had given him the pep talk about controlling his urges and letting Ferus come to him, Anakin had been prepared to wait, but Ferus had already fulfilled every wish on his list. . . only causing new desires to arise. “Fess,” he mutters aimlessly, blissfully.
“Yes, babydoll?”
Anakin bursts out laughing. The amusement evident upon his face.
“Trever was teasing me again,” Ferus explains.
“Oh.” Anakin’s laughter subsides.
Ferus detects the hint of disappointment. “But he’s not wrong, you know.”
Anakin eyes him eagerly.
“I really. . .” Ferus takes a breath. “Those two weeks we spent together. . .”
“They were great,” Anakin finishes. “I was so scared to begin with, and I surely had my share of challenges, but I liked having you with me all the time.”
Ferus nods in agreement. “I didn’t like to see you struggle, but. . . I liked taking care of you,” he manages.
“Like a child playing with a babydoll??” Anakin asks with a laugh. “Is that the connection you were trying to make?”
“Sure,” Ferus chuckles. “I liked taking care of you, babydoll.” He frames Anakin’s face.
Anakin’s heart swells, but his eyes go downcast. “It doesn’t really work when you consider. . .” He gestures to the space between Ferus’ palms. “That’s the definition of irony; there’s nothing porcelain about this face.”
“You underestimate your beauty,” Ferus returns fervently.
Anakin has to refrain from smashing his lips to Ferus.’ As an alternative, he moves to touch him; he cradles the back of his skull, carefully maneuvering his synth-flesh-covered fingers against the grain of his hair.
Ferus smiles. “How’s that feel? Is the sensory a lot better with the new covering?” he wonders hushed, still gazing into Anakin’s eyes.
“Definitely better,” Anakin replies huskily. “But most importantly, your hair is safe from being ripped out of your head now,” he jokes, then threads his fingers through it to demonstrate.
Ferus lets out a low laugh, leaning into Anakin’s touch.
“I like your haircut, by the way,” Anakin informs sweetly.
“Thanks.” Ferus’ cheeks go pink. “It was. . . It had gotten really long.”
“I saw.”
Ferus’ brows furrow. “Saw?”
“Leven,” Anakin chuckles.
Ferus sparks in realization, then hangs his head with a groan. “Great,” he blows out. “I didn’t want you to see me like that,” he fusses.
“See you like what? There wasn’t anything wrong with how you looked,” Anakin promises. “You looked different, but I thought you looked really cute.” He glides his hand along the jaw that is now absent of the makings of the light beard.
“And now?” Ferus finds himself asking.
“And now, you look. . . you look. . .” ‘Sexy’ is what he wants to say, but Anakin holds his tongue. He continues flexing his fingers as he fixates on Ferus’ lips; they are parted, and Anakin can hear his slightly elevated breaths. “You’ve never not been cute,” he decides.
“Likewise.” Ferus bumps his forehead against Anakin’s. The tips of their noses touch.
Anakin feels himself trembling. It would be so easy to let their noses slide alongside one another to draw their lips together. . . but. . .
“Anakin?”
“Yeah?”
“Would it be okay if I. . . if I kissed you?” Ferus utters shaky.
“D-do you really want to?” Anakin confirms, as he’s supposed to.
“I really. . . want to. . .” Ferus tilts his head right into a position where their mouths meet, and hungrily latches on, pinching Anakin’s lips between his and pressing himself closer.
Anakin eagerly accepts the soft brush of tongue that he’s invited inside, restraining himself from doing more than receiving, letting Ferus guide the kiss in his own way.
When Ferus pulls back, he is flushed and smiling. Anakin smiles, too, as they continue caressing each other’s faces.
“Thanks,” Anakin huffs breathlessly.
Ferus chuckles in amused confusion. “You’re welcome?? I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do,” he assures.
Anakin exhales and smothers Ferus in a hug.
Ferus hadn’t realized just how much these hugs had been holding him together. He grips Anakin, gentle hand massaging his back. “I was being greedy, but you really should sleep,” he proposes serenely after feeling Anakin’s weight press harder into him.
A hidden smile creeps upon Anakin’s lips; he'd always liked when Ferus would fuss over him this way, and now he knows how much Ferus liked it, too. “I’m fine,” he protests, but is eager to hear the counter arguement.
“Bedtime,” Ferus urges delicately as they come out of the embrace.
“Five more minutes,” Anakin recites the phrase he’d often held for Ferus in their time spent together.
Ferus contemplates, then slyly compromises, “Fifteen.”
Anakin grins.
*
Obi-Wan awakes early the next morning, despite Anakin having kept him up to gush about the kiss he’d shared with Ferus.
He is a tad skeptical about the information he’s been given. Had Anakin really let Ferus be the one to initiate it? Anakin has always been honest – never one to exaggerate, but he’s surprised that Ferus would move so quickly. Obi-Wan anticipates Ferus is already up, and hopes to speak with him.
When he enters the kitchen, he sees he’d been correct; Ferus is there, but Astri is as well. She stands over a sizzling stove – the picture of nostalgia. . .
The first time he’d met Astri, it had been over the stove in her father’s kitchen at Didi’s Café. Obi-Wan had only been fourteen years old at the time. He hadn’t yet known just how much of an impact that bold and bustling young woman would have on his life.
“Taste this, will you?” Astri doesn’t take her eyes off the pan in front of her, but holds out a spoon.
Obi-Wan is taken aback, unsure if he is still locked in his daydream of the past, because those exact words had been the very first Astri had ever spoken to him. Obi-Wan replies in the same way he had all those years ago, “It’s good.” This time, his voice doesn’t convey surprise, but sentiment, which Astri must’ve picked up on, because now she looks at him longingly. “Is there anything I can do to assist?” Obi-Wan inquires.
“You can help Ferus set the table,” Astri suggests kindly. “I’m just about finished here. Dona should be back any moment from a milk run. I know Clive and Lune will be up soon. . . but it might be a lost cause for Trever to join us.” Astri laughs.
“The same might be said for Anakin,” Obi-Wan returns humorously.
Obi-Wan approaches Ferus, who shoots him a brilliant smile as he sets out napkins and utensils. Obi-Wan wants to laugh; naturally, Ferus would already be busying himself with whatever work he could find.
“Good morning,” Ferus sings.
“Good morning.”
“Start your morning brew,” Ferus offers. “I’ve got this.”
Obi-Wan puts a critical hand on his shoulder, causing Ferus to halt his activity.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. . . I wanted to. . . make sure you’re okay,” Obi-Wan says uneasily. “Anakin. . .” he starts, but then, it dawns on him that perhaps Anakin wasn’t supposed to run and tell him about that kiss.
“Anakin,” Ferus mimics. “Has a big mouth when he’s excited about something. . . He’s always been that way – isn’t afraid to brag.”
Obi-Wan relaxes at Ferus’ jocular nature. “Yes, I can’t deny that. . . He’s also one to push when there’s something he wants, and I just wanted to make sure—”
“He didn’t push me. Promise.”
Obi-Wan takes inventory of Ferus’ glowing features. He doesn’t detect a hint of anxiety or regret. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Ferus keeps quiet as he completes the last place setting.
“Just keep in mind, now that he’s been given an inch, he’ll be ready for the mile,” Obi-Wan warns with affection in his tone.
“And he’ll have it,” Ferus declares confidently. He sees the surprise on Obi-Wan’s face. “I’ve missed him,” Ferus unloads. “I’ve missed him so much, and I know my second chance with him is nowhere near as groundbreaking as yours, because I’d only spent weeks with him as opposed to your years, and we hadn’t even been apart for all that long, but my head is finally clear, and it’s like you said – it wasn’t the right time before, but it feels like the right time now; I just want to be with him, and hold him, and make him smile. . .” Ferus digresses and looks to Obi-Wan for validation. Anakin is first and foremost his, after all.
“That’s wonderful,” Obi-Wan tells Ferus in earnest. “That’s great,” he repeats. The two share a hug and firm pats on the back. “Of course, I can relate to what you’re telling me. I just want you to keep mindful, all right? I know you’re always thinking of Anakin, but please never dismiss your own feelings. There’s no need to rush. We’ll be here. And if you need help understanding what you’re feeling, or in needing to communicate it to him, I’m here for you. Don’t let yourself be burdened. It’s the last thing Anakin would want.”
Ferus bobs his head. “Thank you.”
“Of course, dear. Now, why don’t you go see about getting him out of bed to join us for morning meal.”
“Yeah?” Ferus had wanted to burst through Anakin and Obi-Wan’s door first thing, but didn’t know if it would be appropriate to enter their room.
“Yes.” Obi-Wan squeezes Ferus’ shoulder, then with a fondness, watches him walk away.
And the heaviness that fills the room is almost instantaneous.
Obi-Wan finally has Astri alone. He knows there isn’t much time for a discussion, but he needs to let Astri know he wants to have one.
How can he bring this up? Does she want him to? Does she expect him to? Wouldn’t she have realized he’d learn the truth in coming here? Had she wanted him to come here at all?? It was Dona who had made the arrangements.
Obi-Wan stands beside Astri, taking a plate from her hand and holding it steady while she serves its portion of tailring bacon to join the generous helping of houjix cheese grits.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Obi-Wan puts the dish aside and grabs another as Astri shovels the next serving.
The tension between them is like an over-inflated balloon. . . and Obi-Wan impatiently pokes a pin in it. . .
“He’s mine,” Obi-Wan spews. “. . .Isn’t he?” his voice trails off.
Astri doesn’t even flinch. “Yes,” she affirms directly.
And then, the kitchen is filled with the boisterous voices of their family.
“Good morning!” Astri turns her back to Obi-Wan and puts plates in front of her sons and kisses the tops of their heads.
*
All through breakfast, Obi-Wan is on edge. His attention is split between watching Lune and watching Anakin watch him.
Astri won’t make eye contact. And the eye contact he makes with Clive tells Obi-Wan the adopted father is aware of the situation. Who else knows? Do the boys know? Dona? Ferus?
Obi-Wan does not believe Ferus has any knowledge of this; otherwise, he would likely be studying him the way Anakin is studying him now.
If things were different – had he and Anakin encountered Lune before Mustafar, Obi-Wan has no doubt Anakin would’ve already pieced it together. But whether it is his physical hinderances or his attempt to stay closed off in the Force, Anakin’s senses are not as in tune as they once were.
But Anakin knows something is amiss. And Obi-Wan can’t very well alleviate his concern until he has a more in-depth conversation with Astri.
And when will that be?
Obi-Wan had already promised Ferus he’d make time for him today; he feels guilty for his lack of attention. He and Anakin are here for Ferus. Obi-Wan suspects Astri is feeling regretful about this as well; and like him, she is feeling regretful that their own reunion is lacking. . . It is important that they tackle what’s in front of them before they can enjoy what’s ahead.
Anakin looks disappointed when Obi-Wan ushers him off with Ferus after they’d eaten, but he has to try to get Astri alone again. When Astri signals Clive to occupy the boys, Obi-Wan recognizes that she is ready to talk as well.
Their private time starts off silent, save for the sound of running water and the clanking dishes Obi-Wan is stacking by the sink. Astri begins rinsing them, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure how much time has passed before plates are being handed back to him clean for drying.
At last, Astri speaks, “Lune doesn’t know.”
Obi-Wan remains quiet.
“You know when it happened,” Astri indicates. “There was that last time I saw you, but the time before that. . .”
“The last time I saw you, he was three, but I never suspected. . . Why didn’t you tell me then?”
“There was a lot going on.”
“I remember; you and Lune were in trouble. You were leaving Bog. Astri, why didn’t you tell me?” Obi-Wan repeats perplexed.
“Because I knew what you would do. And Anakin needed you. The Order needed you. We were on the brink of war – chaos across the galaxy. . . But it was really the calm before the storm, wasn’t it?”
It’s true. And Obi-Wan knows that Astri is right in her implication – had he known, he would’ve left the Order and helped her and Lune to their safe place, away from Bog. How different might life have been had he done so? Would Anakin have still fallen? Obi-Wan was taught never to dwell on the past, but he can’t help but wonder how different things might have been. “What does Bog know?”
“I told him when I cheated. You know he and I were already having issues, but I couldn’t stand to lie to him, and I did want to make things work between us. He wanted to make things work, but I realized too late it was for the wrong reasons. When we learned I was pregnant, we both knew the child could be yours, but we never discussed it. Of course, as Lune grew older, it became obvious who his father was; he has your eyes. . . and your connection to the Force. And Bog knew there was potential to use Lune’s gifts for his sick, twisted political games. I don’t think he would’ve gone to such drastic measures to play the role of devoted father otherwise.” Astri sighs. “I don’t regret keeping it from you; you couldn’t worry about us. When I saw you and Anakin fighting in the war, salvaging what was left of the Republic, I knew I did the right thing. . . But I never should’ve told Bog I was pregnant; I should’ve left back then. I could’ve saved Lune much heartache.” Astri snivels, then feels herself being whisked into strong arms.
“Don’t look back,” Obi-Wan soothes. “He’s safe now. You’re safe. You have Clive and Trever, and you have me. You’ve always had me. I’ve always told you, you can count on me, rely on me – for anything. Always. That will never change. If you want him to know who I am, I would love to be a part of his life – of your lives, but if you don’t, I’ll still be here.”
“He’s going to figure it out, just like you did.” Astri’s laugh is stuffy.
“He might.” Obi-Wan shows his teeth. “I’ve already felt a connection, and I’m sure he’s felt it as well. I just don’t think he understands what it means yet. . . But if you don’t yet want him to understand it, then he won’t.”
“I want you to know how much joy it brings me that he is yours, and not Bog’s, and not just because of who Bog is, but because of who you are.” Astri sees Obi-Wan’s face contort in a touched pout. “Though there was never a romance between us, you have meant so much to me, Obi-Wan. You have always been someone very dear to my heart – a friend I can trust absolutely. Someone who I can go years without seeing, but when we’re together again, it feels as if no time has passed. You’re someone I’ve always felt close to and comforted by; it is an honor to have bore your child. Even if no one else knows, I am proud that my son’s father is Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Astri grins. “Noble Jedi good guy.”
Obi-Wan chortles. “Oh, my dear.” He rocks her in his arms. “You are truly beautiful inside and out, and you know I have always loved you.”
“I do know, and that’s what makes your love so remarkable. You may not always express it verbally, but those of us fortunate enough to have it, feel it. I know Anakin has always felt it. I know Ferus feels it now.”
Obi-Wan is bashful. “I believe I’m better with the verbal love-confessions these days,” he boasts. “And I already love our son, and I would be so proud to call myself his father, and feel blessed to know he first had, and will always have, a mother like you.”
“I want to tell him,” Astri resolves tearfully.
“Then we will.”
*
After a long discussion with much laughter and many tears, Obi-Wan and Astri finally feel like Obi-Wan and Astri again. Obi-Wan enters the living area feeling lighter – elated, as if he’s walking on air. He first sets his sights upon his son, the wonderstruck boy, so full of life. He looks at the gray-blue eyes, now knowing for certain that they are an inherited trait. His smile is his mother’s, as is his dark, curly hair. And between his own freckled skin and his mother’s milky tone, the poor child hadn’t stood a chance in being anything other than fair-complected. He is absolutely beautiful.
Through his range of thoughts of the utmost feelings of love, Obi-Wan can’t help but think of Luke. Like him, Anakin had met a child without confirmation that it was his own. He’d been undecided whether or not he’d ever tell Anakin about his children, but now he knew – Anakin must know. In addition to the inevitably that the discovery will someday be made through the likes of the Force, Obi-Wan wants Anakin to know this feeling; Anakin deserves to know it. He needs to know Luke is his. He needs to know of Leia. Someday. Somehow.
“Master?”
Anakin is suddenly hanging on his shoulder. “Hi, sweetheart.” Obi-Wan kisses his cheek. He sees Ferus emerge from behind Anakin, looking unsure if he should approach. But Anakin takes his hand and pulls him forward.
“You’re feeling better,” Anakin observes.
“I am,” Obi-Wan agrees.
“What was wrong? Can we talk about it?”
“Yes, we can.”
“Now?”
Obi-Wan steals a glance at Astri; she is smiling – encouraging. Now, Obi-Wan looks to Lune. “Yes, right now, but not here – in the bedroom would be best.”
Anakin nods and navigates towards the hall, hand still linked with Ferus.’
“I’ll. . . I’ll wait out here.” Ferus takes a step back, but doesn’t let go of Anakin.
“You’re part of this.” Obi-Wan smiles. “Please join us. . . if you like.”
Ferus looks into the sparkling eyes. He feels Anakin taking his turn in their game of tug-o-war. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“Very sure.” Obi-Wan puts a hand on Ferus’ back, driving both boys ahead. They enter the guest room and slide the door shut.
Anakin makes himself comfy on the bed. Ferus stands on side of it with a palm to his shoulder. Obi-Wan joins Anakin.
“Sit,” Anakin orders as he tugs on Ferus again.
“Yes, sit,” Obi-Wan chuckles.
Ferus does.
“Now, what’s going on, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asks warily. “There’s been a lot of weirdness.”
“Weirdness?” Obi-Wan feigns shock. “Whatever do you mean?” He sees Anakin shoot him a disapproving, but mirthful look. “You’ve always been very perceptive, Padawan; there’s something I’d like to share with you – both of you.”
“It’s about Astri,” Anakin guesses. “Clive made it clear that Trever and Lune weren’t to go into the kitchen, and Ferus and I assumed that pertained to us kids as well.”
Obi-Wan laughs. “Yes, thank you for giving us some private time, and thank you for continuing to make me feel ancient.”
“No problem.” Anakin is cheeky.
Ferus is struggling to keep his laughter at bay as Obi-Wan begins by first speaking directly to him.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted.” Obi-Wan touches Ferus on the knee. “I know it probably seems like I haven’t much cared to visit with you, but nothing could be further from the truth.”
Ferus nods his understanding and takes Obi-Wan’s hand. “It’s okay.”
Obi-Wan braces himself as his other hand becomes occupied by Anakin’s – support from either side. He grips each hand he holds. “Now, you know Clive and Astri, and the boys, plan to make a trip to the beach.”
“They leave tomorrow,” Anakin acknowledges. “And we have the place to ourselves. . . for three rotations,” he adds proudly.
“Yes. . . Well, I’d like to join them – not the whole time, but I was thinking I’d meet them there the following day.”
“You want to go with them to the beach??” Anakin questions.
Obi-Wan blows out a breath. He’s reconsidering the order in which he’d decided to present this information. “This isn’t bad news, sweetheart. What I am about to share with you is wonderful news, but it changes things, for all of us.”
“Okay,” Anakin drags out the word.
“You know Lune is Force-sensitive,” Obi-Wan starts.
“Yes,” Anakin answers eagerly while Ferus mutters the same word. “Are you about to tell me you’re getting a new Padawan?” Anakin grills.
“No,” Obi-Wan chuckles. “It’s just that I felt a connection to him when we first arrived here yesterday.”
“I noticed,” Anakin admits.
“Well, Astri has just confirmed. . . The connection I felt was one of a father and son.” Obi-Wan waits just a moment, and then, “I am Lune’s biological father.”
Anakin gawks at him. He surely hadn’t expected this. A father?? Obi-Wan is a father?? He quickly counts backwards, knowing Lune has just made nine, and thinks about the age he would’ve been when Lune was born –fifteen. . . They had seen Astri at the Galactic Games the year before.
Obi-Wan stops Anakin’s train of thought before it runs off the track. “Astri and I never had a relationship. We were together intimately one time, when her and Bog first started having issues. And one time was all it took.”
“It was on that mission on Euceron,” Anakin accuses. “Ferus, you were there, remember? When I podraced.”
“I remember.” Ferus is as stunned as Anakin to hear this.
“Our last night there; Astri called, and you left,” Anakin recollects. “I fell asleep before you came back.”
Obi-Wan’s heart sinks. It isn’t apparent if Anakin is bothered by this or just curious of the details. “Yes, I went to see her, because she was very upset about Bog having been dishonest to get ahead in his career. I felt she needed a friend; we hadn’t intended for anything to happen.”
Anakin is quiet as he processes this. “You said this will change things. . . How exactly? Astri is with Clive.”
“Yes, love. And I’m with you. We aren’t going to try to be in a relationship or anything like that, but I am Lune’s father, and I want to be in his life as such. Clive will be there when I cannot. But I want to get to know him, and I have a greater responsibility to him now that I know he’s mine.”
“We’ll still be together,” Anakin verifies. And he is including Ferus in ‘we’ whether he and Obi-Wan are aware or not.
“We’ll still be together.”
“We still go home to Tatooine next week.”
“Well, I was thinking in light of the situation, we could stay here a bit longer. I’d like more time with Lune, and with Ferus.”
“You’ll still be with Ferus and me tomorrow night?”
“Yes. Astri is going to wait until they arrive at camp to tell Lune what I’ve just told you. That will give him some time to adjust to the news before I arrive.”
“And you won’t come back until they come back?”
“Yes. . . Darling, if you’d like to come along, you may. I just assumed you’d rather have that alone time with Ferus you’ve been so keen on,” Obi-Wan teases. “But you are absolutely welcome if you want to come, too.”
Anakin looks to Ferus who has hardly said a word through the reveal. Ferus looks back at him and smirks. “What?” Anakin chuckles.
“Lune is Obi-Wan’s son,” Ferus states in awe.
Obi-Wan eyes him curiously. “He is,” he confirms heartfelt.
“Lune was there the day I found Anakin,” Ferus discloses. “It was him who helped me.” Ferus can’t fully explain since Anakin doesn’t know the details of his time spent in darkness – when Palpatine had almost gotten to him as he’d gotten to Anakin. His pull to help Lune was what had knocked him back into the light, and in turn had given him the compassion to care for Anakin the way he had. . . and all the while, the direct link to Obi-Wan was there. The son of Obi-Wan Kenobi unknowingly seeing others to the light. It was poetic, really.
“He helped you??” Anakin queries.
“He did. Things would’ve went differently had he not been in the right place at the right time. It’s like, Obi-Wan couldn’t be there yet, but his son was there for you,” Ferus explains as he affectionately strokes Anakin’s cheek.
Obi-Wan feels the tears welling up; Ferus’ sentiment about Lune had immediately put Anakin at ease.
“I think this is. . . I’m shocked right now, but this is amazing,” Ferus tells Obi-Wan. “I’m so happy for you – and for Lune. This is great.” Ferus moves to hug him.
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan whispers, his appreciation twofold.
Anakin is smiling when his Master and Ferus come up from their embrace.
“Tell me your thoughts, dear one,” Obi-Wan prompts Anakin. "How are you feeling about this?"
“I feel great about it! You were right – it’s wonderful news, and I love Lune. And knowing he helped in my rescue mission, it’s like we all share a connection,” Anakin concludes in satisfaction.
“Yes.” Obi-Wan takes Anakin in his arms. “He is mine, and you are mine as well.”
Notes:
This chapter is dedicated to MaiasPen 🍆, who has always supported my Obi-Wan/Astri love child theory. Jude Watson did indeed describe Lune with gray-blue eyes. . . He's Force-sensitive. . . and that timeframe I used legitimately checks out - Lune could've easily been conceived at the end of the third Jedi Quest book. It. just. makes. sense. I believe this is what Jude intended 🙌🏻 . . . Just as she intended for Ferus to be married to Roan 💗
Thank you for reading!
Chapter Text
The found family have one last morning meal together before splitting off to their respective destinations. And this breakfast is more special than the former, not because it is their final one as a group for a while, but because they have a special guest.
Garen Muln had made a home for himself on Belazura, as he had planned to do. Though he has informally assumed the responsibility of Lune’s teacher in all things of the Force, he is often cautious in interfering with family affairs – despite Astri persisting that he was always welcome.
When Garen had learned his lifelong (and long-lost) friend would be coming on-world, he’d stubbornly declared he’d defer a reunion until Obi-Wan had time to reconnect with the others.
And now that the former Temple mates have their own chance to reconnect, they make up for lost time. And when Dona says her goodbyes before heading back to Bellassa, and the Flax/Oddo/Flume clan (along with Leven in tow) depart for their coastal vacation, Garen stays, presenting the four Jedi with some valuable time to reminisce about the simpler days when they’d all been a part of the Order – a time they can all remember.
After sharing their second meal for the day, Ferus sees Garen out, allowing the elder Jedi the opportunity to privately express his sentiments. He conveys gratitude for Ferus having rescued him from Ilum, giving him a second chance at life. He speaks of his delight that Ferus has been given a second chance as well. . . a second chance at love with someone whom he cares a great deal for.
At the mention of ‘love,’ Ferus has to wait for his red cheeks to cool down before reentering the house. But they threaten to heat up again when he discovers a cozy-looking Obi-Wan, perched picture-perfect on a chaise lounge – one leg elegantly cocked up, arm propped over the rest, holding a data pad firm in his large, commanding hand. His hair is gorgeously tousled, and he endearingly sports a flattering pair of specs. Now he smiles at him, and Ferus feels weak in the knees.
“Hello there,” Obi-Wan intones.
“Hi. . . Where’s Anakin?” Ferus can’t help but wonder why he wouldn’t find him sitting in Obi-Wan’s lap, given the conditions are ideal for doing so.
Obi-Wan beams. “I’ve been told to tell you, ‘it’s a surprise,’” he replies purposefully.
“All right,” Ferus chortles.
“He has an evening plan for us that requires a little leg work. I suspect he’ll need our assistance, but he insisted on doing it on his own. We will see.” Obi-Wan maneuvers and pats the spot next to him on the oversized chair.
Ferus happily takes the seat – a compact place for two. He folds his arms tight, as relaxing his shoulders will cause overlap with Obi-Wan’s. “At what point do we go check on him?”
“He’ll fail or succeed within the next three minutes.”
“And failure is??”
“Not hazardous to his health.”
“You know the information I seek,” Ferus says lightly. . . and uncrosses his arms.
“Ferus,” Obi-Wan begins critically as he turns into him. “I must apologize; I realized I never really asked you how you felt about spending two nights with Anakin on your own.”
“We’ve done it before,” Ferus reminds. “I assume he still needs some help with applying his ointment? How many days a week is he using the bacta tube now?”
“We plan for daily use, but if something comes up where time does not allow for it, we don’t fret,” Obi-Wan tells him cordially. “And I do still assist him with the salve, but that wasn’t really why I was asking, dear; I know you’ll take good care of him. I just wondered if you’d felt differently being alone after. . . now that. . . you’ve shared that kiss.”
Ferus is thoughtful, understanding how this could make things progress – being alone together. “We’ll be fine,” he decides with certainty.
“Are you sure? I can tell him I’d like you both to come with me instead.”
“No, you were right before; he’s been looking forward to this, and I have, too, really. I was hoping you’d be here, but not as a buffer – just because I want you to be with us, but it’s only two nights.”
“Yes. Only two nights.”
“Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. . . I’m nervous how Lune will react, but things between us have already been somewhat easy.”
“There’s definitely a connection, as you said. He told me he thought Anakin would feel stronger in the Force, but he thinks your sensitivity to it is greater,” Ferus smirks.
Obi-Wan laughs. “Well, that is a first.”
“Now, I understand why. He feels closer to you.”
Obi-Wan’s smile is soft. “It’s amazing,” he remarks in astonishment. “For the last day, I’ve just been. . . floating.” He sighs in contentment. “And in between every thought of Lune, I keep thinking of Luke, and how much I want this feeling for Anakin.”
Ferus stays quiet, mouth in a thin line.
“There’s no instruction booklet on how to tell someone of seven crucial years they’ve forgot,” Obi-Wan continues.
“No, there’s not.”
“I don’t know where to start or what to tell him first, or whether it should be all at once or a little at a time. . . Some things, you know what things, I’m not sure we should ever reveal.”
Ferus is silent again.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bombard you with the heavy.”
“It’s okay; I understand. In my weeks with him, I thought about it every day – multiple times a day. You’ve been with him for months. . . and I should’ve been there with you. I’m sorry.”
“No.” Obi-Wan’s hand clasps Ferus’ knee. “You did the right thing. You needed this time. You might be feeling differently had you not taken it.”
Ferus is glad to see Anakin enter from the exterior of the house, putting a cap on the conversation he doesn’t want to face for the moment. Anakin’s grin is cute and cheeky. “There you are,” Ferus greets. “What are you up to?”
“Come and see. . .” Anakin sounds confident and mischievous.
Obi-Wan and Ferus follow him out past the patio Ferus loves, and through the door to the grand backyard – a yard that is large enough to accommodate their ship for the duration of their stay.
The afternoon air is perfectly cool. The lush grass is soft underfoot. The sufficiently-warming sun is vibrant, shining an amber spotlight right onto a sizeable, black tent that has been pitched on the lawn.
These are the same types of tents that had been used during the war – standard emergency gear on most Republic vessels manufactured during that time. . . But those tents had been blue, and marked with the Republic’s signature symbol. Now, an imperial crest takes its place; this tent had come from Ferus’ ship – the ship he had used during his time spent as a double agent.
It had been a while since Ferus had thought about those days, though they were not all that long ago. And even in working to find exiled Jedi, and in securing new clientele for his business, both of those almost entirely because of the Empire, Ferus had been successful in avoiding any place or planet where they had a profound presence. As a result, the everyday had become sort of mundane, that supreme purpose of his tasks not often on the forefront of his mind.
Likewise, security had slacked – nearly diminished – on Bellassa, when the Eleven had hung their hats, but the danger is incessant. . . A chill goes up Ferus’ spine to see Anakin standing there at attention with that dammed logo behind him. When Ferus had first left Tatooine, he had continued performing his daily HoloNet search on Vader as to determine whether or not Palpatine might be hunting him. . . but at the sudden reminder, Ferus realizes he’d not checked on this in weeks.
Anakin sees the bothered look on Ferus’ face. “Is. . . I hope this is okay. . . It’s still your ship, but I didn’t think you’d mind if. . .”
“No, it is okay,” Ferus absolves gently as he makes a fast-approach to Anakin. It isn’t his fault; Anakin has no idea of the flood of bad memoires and woes he’s just unlocked with that tent. At least from the inside it would be just a tent. He wraps an arm around Anakin’s shoulders. “What’s mine is yours; I was just surprised – and that was the point, wasn’t it?” He feels Anakin lean into him.
“I must say, I’m surprised – impressed,” Obi-Wan comments. “These tents aren’t always cooperative.” And these particular style tents had been an enemy of Anakin’s during the war. They were intended for easy set-up, but Anakin, for some strange reason, had always been bested by them. Obi-Wan would hide his laugh when Anakin would cuss and send the crumpled canopy forcefully flying across the battlefield.
“Well, it was almost a disaster, until I noticed a key point in the assembly instructions.”
“Assembly instructions??” Obi-Wan queries bemused. Very much unlike Ferus, Anakin had never been one to check the manual, alternatively, always taking immediate action. . . But his darling boy was exhibiting far more patience these days.
“Sometimes I read the instructions,” Anakin defends sheepishly.
“So, what is the surprise exactly?” Ferus inquires. “A cookout?”
Well, that is what Anakin had told Obi-Wan, but he has a greater ambition. . . Between the two rooms they occupied, neither guest bed was big enough to house all three of them. . . Anakin gives a modest nod.
“Did you want to sleep out here, too?” Ferus questions simply.
As Anakin had hoped, Ferus had been the one to say the words. Anakin had already decided he wouldn’t make the proposal at all, in case it made Ferus uncomfortable, but even so, he feels Obi-Wan’s suspicious glare upon him. He reddens under his scrutiny. “It’s more just for a relaxing evening,” he rushes his words. “We don’t have to sleep in it. I mean. . . we could. . .”
Ferus smiles. “Sounds like fun.”
Obi-Wan wants to chide his Padawan for his sneaky stunt. He should’ve known this was his intent. Anakin still eyes him guiltily as Ferus pulls him in a tender embrace; he appears accepting of the plan. The odds are the two would’ve ended up sharing a bed in his absence anyhow. Obi-Wan would depart tomorrow, and Ferus wasn’t likely to leave Anakin alone for the night, and Anakin wouldn’t want to be left alone.
“Do you want to sleep in the tent with us, Master?” Anakin requests skittishly.
A face so precious, and a tongue so innocent, Obi-Wan couldn’t deny him even if he wanted to. “Of course, love.” And Obi-Wan almost says, ‘It’ll be like old times.’ It will be, but Anakin wouldn't remember their nights spent cuddled up together in a tent just like this.
“Well, we’ve got the sleeping arrangements figured out, then; what do you want to do until bedtime?” Ferus questions.
In response, Anakin plops down on the grass, not far from the tent, and reclines back.
Ferus laughs. “Sunbathe?”
“It’s not even so much the sun.” Anakin’s words come out hypnotic. “I was in snow for those weeks with you, and I’ve been in the sand with Obi-Wan for four months; it feels so good to get some plant-based oxygen for a change. I think all this green is good for my new lungs. . . I can really breathe out here.”
Ferus’ ears perk at the phrase. . . ‘I can really breathe out here, you know.’ The words echo in his mind; in the dream he’d had in which he and Anakin were sitting in the grass together on Bellassa, that was exactly what he’d said. “Makes sense.” And it does. And suddenly Ferus wishes Obi-Wan’s permanent residence wasn’t on the brutal, desert planet. In truth, it probably isn’t an ideal environment for Anakin. . .
Ferus steps a few paces and throws himself down on the grass, feeling youthful and free. And when he hears Anakin giggle, he doesn’t think it can get much better, but then, Obi-Wan joins them.
Ferus props himself up on his elbow, looking past Anakin to Obi-Wan. The normally reserved man is on his back, arms stretched out, lips in a beautiful, wide grin. The rays make his fair skin glow and highlight the array of mixed colors in his kempt beard. Anakin hovers over him now, and Obi-Wan pulls his Padawan down on top of him as the two cackle joyfully, and all Ferus can do is stare.
Anakin settles back on the grass now. He still has Obi-Wan by the hand and takes Ferus’ as well. “I could lie here all evening,” he notes whimsically. “Watch the sun set and moon rise.”
“And then count the stars,” Ferus agrees, better interlocking their fingers. “I don’t think I’ve done that since I was a youngling.”
“Me neither. The last time was probably when Obi-Wan and I came here for our Jedi vacation.”
Ferus smiles. “Jedi vacation,” he muses fondly, remembering Anakin’s sweet story about he and Obi-Wan’s visit to Belazura in their early years, as well as recalling his own Master and Padawan getaway trip here with Siri. “Did Ahsoka say if the two of you had ever come here together?” Ferus wonders. Anakin had told him how he’d reconnected with his Padawan, but they hadn’t been able to say much on the subject during their weekly incognito calls.
“Did we, Master?”
“No, darling. The war had changed so many things about our way of life by then. Ahsoka was only fourteen her first battle – before she was even officially your Padawan.”
“Child soldiers,” Ferus laments. “Unbelievable; I can’t imagine what the Temple must’ve been like during that time.”
“It was empty.” Obi-Wan is the only one who would know. “And not just physically,” he adds gravely. “Of course, not literally either, but it was definitely not the bustling atmosphere you’d remember. In-house lessons were often canceled because the instructors were dispatched with the rest of the Jedi. . . which is why it made sense to send the students out, too, I suppose.” Obi-Wan stops to smile. “But Ahsoka learned much in the field – ambitious like her Master.”
Ferus and Anakin both smile.
“Do you talk with her often?” Ferus asks.
“She usually just sends a message with her coordinates,” Anakin clarifies. “We promised to always keep each other informed of our locations, so we’d never lose one another again. She knew we were coming here.”
Ferus really loves how there is someone else looking out for Anakin. “Good. So, she travels a lot, then?”
“All the time; she doesn’t even have a home base. She goes all over,” Anakin relays in infatuation.
“Her mission is somewhat similar to yours,” Obi-Wan explains. “But she searches for cast out clones rather than Jedi.”
“That’s very noble of her.” Ferus can’t imagine helping a clone after how they’d turned on the Jedi.
“Well, apparently, their betrayal wasn’t of their own free will. It was mind control,” Obi-Wan discloses. “There were implant chips placed in their brains. Ahsoka and Anakin’s former captain have found a way to surgically remove them.”
“Oh, Force,” Ferus huffs. “Seriously? That’s. . . Wow. I wonder if she’s found any of the men I served with.”
“Possibly,” Obi-Wan beings thoughtfully. “She’s helped many, from what she described, and those she’s assisted have paid it forward to their surviving brothers. There are safehouses comparable to your asteroid base in various parts of the galaxy.”
“Incredible. . . This sort of changes my own mission. This is information the surviving Jedi need to know. It would surely lift their spirits to learn the truth – that the men they worked so closely with weren’t traitors all along. I’d like to get in contact with Ahsoka one of these days,” Ferus proposes.
“She’s so cool, Fess,” Anakin boasts. “Amazing. And she said she only survived the purge because of what I taught her.”
Ferus and Obi-Wan both chuckle.
“Hey, let me have this. Apparently, I became the Jedi I’d always dreamed I’d be, and I can’t even remember it.” Anakin’s zestful tone morphs, “Now, I can’t even defend myself – don’t even know what happened to my lightsaber. . . probably couldn’t do anything worthy with it, if I did have it.”
It isn’t the first time Anakin has brought up his lightsaber. Obi-Wan’s stomach turns each time knowing of its precise location in the sands. . . not too far from their home. He’d debated returning it to Anakin on more than one occasion, but each time, he decided giving him the weapon he’d used to commit genocide with wasn’t a great idea. Anakin wouldn’t know, but Obi-Wan would.
Ferus hesitates in what he’s about to say, but in thinking of how Palpatine could easily be looking for Anakin he decides, “I have a crystal; you can make a new lightsaber.”
“A crystal?!” Anakin shrieks as he bolts upright.
Obi-Wan sits up with skepticism all over his face. Ferus sits up with them and laughs. “Remember when you dropped Trever and me on Ilum?” Ferus asks Obi-Wan. “When I found Garen?”
“And you retrieved a crystal??” Obi-Wan is in awe. “I thought Garen had given you his saber.”
“He did, but he still has his crystal. And actually, I retrieved three – three pale blue crystals.”
“Three?!” Anakin is amped.
“Yeah,” Ferus is laughing.
“And I could have one? Make my own saber? You’d actually let me do that??”
Ferus chuckles. “Let you?”
Anakin raises a brow. “As if you’d considered giving me a weapon before. You wouldn’t even allow me off the ship. And you didn’t want me leaving the cavern when we got to Tatooine.”
Well, that was all true. Ferus blows out a breath. “It’s different now. You’ve gotten used to your new limbs; you’ve learned how to better control your breathing. And just because you have a weapon, it doesn’t mean you’re going to flee and go look for the enemy, right?”
“Right,” Anakin promises passionately and pleadingly. “I just want to have a saber in my hands again. I want to spar – with either one of you. I miss it. And I think it would really speed up my recovery. Don’t you?” This question is more directed at Obi-Wan. “You said when I lost my right arm before the war, I excelled more quickly when I resumed normal activity.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Obi-Wan smiles. This plan is a good one. Thanks to Ferus, Anakin could have a lightsaber again – a new one. . . a fresh start.
“So, where are the crystals?” Anakin jumps right in. “Do you have the other two here with you?” he interrogates.
Ferus laughs. “Yes, I do. I keep them on me – keep them safe.”
Obi-Wan can see the gears turning. . . Anakin glances towards the house, then the ship parked behind them in the distance; he is wondering what might be available to act as parts for a hilt. “Slow down,” Obi-Wan chortles.
“Well, I was just thinking—”
Obi-Wan raises a hand. “I know very well what you were thinking, and if you’re thinking you’re going to disassemble anything in that house, or on the ship, think again.”
“Okay, not in the house, but there’s tons of scrap metal on the ship that isn’t essential to flight; I just need a laser cutter, and I’m sure Clive has one he wouldn’t mind letting me borrow. I’m gonna check his workshop!” And Anakin is on his feet and already disappearing from view.
“So much for a relaxing afternoon in the grass,” Ferus remarks to Obi-Wan as he watches Anakin go. “Kark!” He rises in urgency. “He’s running! Has he run at all with the prosthetics??”
Obi-Wan stands, too, and strains his neck to see as Anakin vanishes into the house. “This is the first time, from what I’m aware; it was tricky enough to walk in the sand, let alone run, but he seems steady,” he observes proudly. “Motivated,” he laughs. “Sometimes he’ll lose his balance when he’s tired or when getting up after sitting for a while, but he’s been doing very well.” Obi-Wan looks back at Ferus. “Thank you,” he tells him in earnest. “This is just what he needs. Personally, I’ll be relieved to be able to get him to a place where he can defend himself again, but more than that, this will be a major boost to his self-esteem. He still says cocky things, like he did about training Ahsoka a moment ago, but that strong confidence he once held isn’t there any longer. I’ll admit, he needed to rein it in, to an extent, but I surely would’ve preferred for that to happen in another way.”
Ferus clutches Obi-Wan’s hand when he sees his face fall. “I know it’s hard for you to watch him struggle; I don’t like to see it either, but I’m happy to help him in any way I can. . . I’m sure he’ll have something concocted before the sun sets – we can do some drills tonight.” Ferus’ grin is charismatic.
“It’ll be interesting to see the two of you working together in your lightsaber training as opposed to against one another,” Obi-Wan pokes fun.
“Isn’t that the truth,” Ferus chuckles. “You know. . . I saw him in the cave,” he starts slowly. “When I got the crystals on Ilum – I saw an illusion of Anakin.”
“Really?” Obi-Wan is intrigued. “A Jedi’s visions in the process of gathering their crystal are said to reveal a great deal. How fascinating that you saw Anakin considering what has come to pass.”
“Yes, but I definitely didn’t see him as he is now. He was. . . awful,” Ferus admits. “He was so hateful; he ridiculed me, made me feel like I was a narcissistic prick. He taunted me about how I left the Order – he said it was because I was jealous of him and couldn’t deal with not being the best. I know it was my own opinions of him that made me project him that way, and I feel ashamed of it now.”
“Oh, darling, don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Ferus flinches, hearing those words often said by his husband, serving in equal parts comfort and hurt.
“As we’ve discussed before,” Obi-Wan continues. “Anakin felt competitive with himself, and in turn, with you. And we both know jealousy played a factor– that was the root of your rivalry it seemed.”
“It was, but I thought I had made peace with it; that’s actually what I told him in the cave – that I had made peace with my decision to leave the Jedi, because I had finally found myself – I learned how to be who I really am.”
Obi-Wan smiles, but Ferus does not. . .
“He told me he’d found himself, too, and then Vader appeared. . . I’m only now realizing that was the Force’s way of telling me who was behind the mask, but I didn’t make that connection then.”
Obi-Wan feels chills. “Did he speak to you as Vader?”
Ferus nods. “He told me to give up, and that I was only thinking of myself. He said, ‘In your plan lies responsibilities.’”
Obi-Wan purses his lips. “I suppose you did give up, in a way. You put your quest on hold to nurse him back to health – NOT thinking of yourself, but only of him. That was certainly a responsibility you did not expect in all your planning.”
“I guess you’re right.” Ferus is pensive, warmth returning to his features and voice. “I hadn’t really thought about it like that – I hadn’t really thought about it at all since I found Anakin.”
“So, your mission to Ilum had revealed much, then. It's hard to know when our fortune is being told. We are often not ready to see.”
“I guess I wasn’t; I thought about it a lot at first, because I saw Siri, too, and she told me the very same thing: ‘In your plan lies responsibilities,’ but when I decided to start tracking Jedi, after you came back into my life, I assumed the message had everything to do with that. . . Siri was awful to me, too, by the way. . .”
“That stems from fear, I’m sure. We all worry about disappointing our Masters.”
“You know firsthand, that was a constant worry of mine.”
“I know, but it need not be; she could never be disappointed in you.” Obi-Wan brushes his thumb over Ferus’ cheek.
“I hope you’re right. . . In the vision, she was yelling at me – telling me I’d never be a Jedi again.”
“You won’t be.” Obi-Wan’s response is quick and resolute. “You are something far greater.” He cups his hand behind Ferus’ neck now. “Siri knew that about you; that’s why she let you go.”
“I didn’t want you to let me go,” Ferus confesses hushed. He bows his head, face coming in close to Obi-Wan’s. “I know I acted angry when you said you wouldn’t come to Coruscant with me, but I was really just. . . hurt. I understand now that you had to get back to Luke, but I wanted you with me, and I wanted you to want to be with me, too.”
“Darling, I did want to be with you. If you only knew how torn I was – how badly I wanted to stay. . . I thought about you every day after we parted.”
“Every day?”
“Every day.”
Their foreheads touch, and Ferus feels himself beginning to tremble. He starts to bring his lips forward for the kiss, but he hesitates, and then. . .
“OBI-WAN! FESS!? ARE YOU COMING??!”
The two don’t separate, but they both laugh softly.
“He must’ve found the cutters,” Obi-Wan whispers in affection.
“Yes,” Ferus concurs quietly with a smile. “And he knows me well enough to know I’ll want to supervise.”
*
It only takes Anakin a few short hours to construct his new lightsaber. Just as he’d reassured his companions, their ship still functioned with what he had laser cut from the undercarriage, and with the wiring and hardware he had pulled from the control room. Once all the materials had been gathered, Anakin was pleased to find Clive had had all the proper tooling to mold the non-traditional pieces and parts into the makings of a beautiful new hilt – simple and sleek, a silver durasteel cylinder fed into a textured, black hand grip.
The more challenging part of the build had been to find the right equipment to make up the pivoting, hanging clasp. . . which Obi-Wan had reminded wasn’t really necessary, as the weapon would remain hidden in pockets these days, rather than displayed on a utility belt. But Anakin wanted the blade to resemble those of the thriving Jedi Order, and Obi-Wan could certainly understand that.
Obi-Wan had teared up when Anakin had first powered it on, the cool blue illuminating his childlike face, just as it had more than a decade prior. . . And akin to that boy of yesteryear, Anakin could not wait to put the ‘laser sword’ to good use.
It was Obi-Wan who had played the part of the overbearing worrywart this time when Anakin had tried to bolt from the shop and into the yard with his prize. He’d authoritatively directed that it was not wise to ‘play’ with a lightsaber out in the open while the Jedi were supposed to be extinct, particularly in the quiet night where the sound of the blade would be more easily heard traveling through the distance.
And if Obi-Wan has adopted the role of strict rule-enforcer, then it is Ferus’ turn to be the level-headed negotiator.
Ferus points out that there is adequate space in the workshop to practice some katas and perhaps enact a mild, mock duel. They move around a few tool chests and center a mat on the floor, and their makeshift dojo is brought to life.
In his earlier reflection on his time in the Ilum cave, discovering how it had foreshadowed this precious moment, Ferus realizes something else that was meant to be foretold. . . The Force had given him those three crystals for a reason.
And when Obi-Wan accepts Ferus’ invitation to embark on a ‘fresh start’ along with his apprentice, placing a matching pale blue crystal within the hilt of his beloved, weathered weapon, Anakin’s smile shines brighter than all three blades lit in unison.
Triplet blurred lines of blue whip and hum in perfect synchrony, as the men return to their roots in a graceful row. And there is no doubt that the once-mysterious trio of crystals have been bound to the hands that were meant to hold them.
Anakin wears himself out doing the same drills on repeat, but is reluctant to put the saber down. It had been more than an hour since Obi-Wan and Ferus had tired out and taken their places as cheerleaders on the sidelines. They watch Anakin cycle through the same forms, no longer requiring instruction or help in steadying his footwork or gripping the hilt properly in his hand.
Both men are content to see him so full of pride – breath-taking and majestic in his element. He’d even felt comfortable enough to expose his bare chest, and that was not something he would often do in a well-lit setting.
Finally, Ferus reverts to his prior persona, and insists a break is needed. He entices Anakin with the reminder of his proposal for an outdoor dinner under the stars.
They move to the yard, and though Obi-Wan had prompted Anakin to leave the lightsaber in the workshop, like a youngling wanting to take his shiny new toy everywhere he went, Anakin had it right there beside him all through their nighttime picnic. He kept turning it over in his hand, randomly igniting the blade, Obi-Wan scolding him each time, until finally, the lightsaber was confiscated ‘for the remainder of the evening.’
But the lightsaber was far from Anakin’s mind when it was late enough to call it an early night. He’d kept yawning, but for once, he wasn’t bothered by his frequent fatigue, because tonight, he was eager to lie down.
After showers and a salve application, the trio of men transport blankets and pillows into the tent, and crawl inside.
They form a close-knit triangle, sitting intimately atop the padded pallet.
Anakin and Ferus first share a smile, but when Anakin looks to his Master, his lips pucker, ever so slightly, and he lets himself fall against his side as Obi-Wan’s arm closes around him.
Obi-Wan and Anakin hadn’t been apart since their reunion on Toloran, and they had made a two-sided vow that they would never leave each other ever again. . . They both know that promise had been unrealistic, but the impending separation feels much harder than it should.
“You should take this tent with you to the beach,” Anakin offers up into the silence. “Maybe you and Lune could have a campout right by the water.”
“What a wonderful idea,” Obi-Wan replies. “I’ll do that; thank you for the suggestion.” He begins petting Anakin’s hair soothingly. “It’s only two nights,” he reminds, for both their sakes. “Two nights, and I’ll be right back to you.” Anakin stays silent as Obi-Wan kisses the top of his head. “In the meantime, you know you’ll be in the best of hands.” He glances at Ferus.
“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you.” But Anakin's not so much worried as much as he just doesn’t want to be away from him. It’s better when they’re together. The last time they had gotten separated, they had spent more than a year apart. . . so he’s told.
“You’re worried about me? Whatever for? I’ll be on the beach, enjoying myself.” Obi-Wan shows all his teeth. “I’ll be enjoying my son,” he adds heartfelt.
Anakin smiles. “I know, and I’m really happy for you, Obi-Wan; it’s not that I don’t want you to go. . . It’s just. . .”
“I know; we’ve not been apart all this time.” Obi-Wan strokes his thumb over Anakin’s chin. “You sure you don’t want to come along? You can.”
“No, you need to do this yourself. You need your time with him.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t want to be away from Anakin anymore than Anakin wants to be away from him, but he agrees – he needs to do this on his own. Lune must be the focus. “Thank you, my dear. In the meantime, we have tonight.”
“Would you rather be alone tonight?” Ferus proposes at witnessing their exchange. “I mean, since you won’t have the next two nights together.”
“No!” Anakin hollers back. “Unless you don’t want to stay with us. . .”
“No, I do,” Ferus concedes softly. He reaches for Anakin’s hand and watches him smile. “I look forward to being able to stay with you for the night after I kiss you goodnight.”
Anakin’s eyes are large and motion in Obi-Wan’s direction.
“What? You think I don’t know you told him about our kiss?” It sounds like he is fussing, but Ferus’ laughter is forgiving.
Anakin sucks in his lips when his Master begins laughing as well.
“You know I’m just teasing you; I’m glad you told him,” Ferus promises sweetly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Ferus eyes him engagingly. “It’s important that he know, if you want us to all be together. . . Isn’t that what you want?”
“Yes.” Anakin looks to Ferus with longing. “But it’s all right if. . .”
“It’s all right if that isn’t what you want,” Obi-Wan finishes.
Ferus is quiet as he absorbs this. “I care for you the way I care for Anakin,” he rationalizes. “I admit, this is new for me; I’ve never considered a relationship could be this way, but if this is what Anakin wants, I. . .”
“Anakin doesn’t need everything he wants,” Obi-Wan informs sharply and comically – a gleam in his eye. He hears Anakin gasp in offense and Ferus laugh.
“You give him everything he wants,” Ferus points out chuckling. “That’s why he’s such a brat.”
Anakin frowns adorably as Ferus tugs him into a hug.
“I’m kidding. . . I really want to try this,” Ferus relays more seriously to the both of them. “Not just for Anakin. This is something I want, but what about you, Obi-Wan? Is your consideration for. . . me, because of Anakin? Or. . . or. . . ?”
“Or,” Obi-Wan replies straightforward. “You stole my heart before you stole Anakin’s, if you didn’t know. . .” He observes Anakin’s grin as Ferus turns a lovely shade of red.
“I didn’t know,” Ferus whispers faintly.
“Now you do,” Obi-Wan affirms at a volume that rivals Ferus.’
The two tilt to one another, just as they had earlier that afternoon, noses touching, lips deliciously close.
Anakin’s heart is pounding as if he’s the one on the end of the forthcoming kiss. He leans forward in solidarity, and because he wants a front row seat for the moment when they might. . . might. . .
“Anakin, darling,” Obi-Wan suddenly calls out, his open mouth still a hair’s breadth away from Ferus.’
“Master?” Anakin answers anxiously, chest pumping and eyes fixed on the lips of the two other men.
“I think it is becoming abundantly clear what Ferus and I want. . . Are you still certain this is what you want?”
Anakin looks at the madman in disbelief. Is he serious?
Ferus momentarily averts his eyes and snickers at the look of impatience on Anakin’s face.
“It’s just, I know you say this is what you want,” Obi-Wan tantalizingly begins. “But you’ve never been very good at sharing, my love.”
Anakin opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
“He’s not wrong,” Ferus chimes in. “Especially when it comes to sharing your Master; in the past, you’ve gotten jealous whenever his attention was on something or someone other than you.”
“Yes, very true,” Obi-Wan acknowledges formally. “And your history with jealousy mostly pertains to Ferus,” he notes slyly.
The stunned sound Anakin makes matches his incredulous face. “I. . . You know what? Maybe I am changing my mind!” he blurts out fervently. “You two are bonding too quickly for my liking! First, you’re in agreement that I’m a brat, and now you both think I’m jealous and unwilling to share??” He dramatically folds his arms, but begins laughing ironically as Obi-Wan and Ferus do as well.
“We are teasing you, baby,” Obi-Wan lulls as Anakin snuggles up next to him with a false pout.
“I know,” Anakin calms. “But it is true that I did want you all to myself,” he mutters meekly. “And maybe I was a little jealous of Ferus. . . sometimes. . . just a little. . .”
“I might’ve been a tad jealous of you, too. . . maybe. . . just a little,” Ferus mimics as he reaches to stroke Anakin’s cheek.
“But I’m not jealous now; I’m tormented!” Anakin complains in exasperation. “Because I really really want to share,” he whines.
“I really want to share, too.” Ferus locks eyes with Obi-Wan.
“Don’t look at me; I’ve never had any issues with sharing or jealousy,” Obi-Wan states arrogant and playful.
“Are you sure?” Ferus catches Anakin by the lips and kisses him somewhat aggressively, wrestling him out of Obi-Wan’s embrace.
Anakin is startled at first, then melts in surrender. But mere seconds later, he feels a firm grip on his shirt collar, Obi-Wan gently reeling him in. Anakin goes willingly, separating from Ferus’ lips with a smack, before his Master takes his turn devouring him. He moans when thick fingers spread through his hair, and a passionate tongue licks the inside of his mouth.
Anakin is left flushed, wet-faced, and dumb-founded when Obi-Wan prematurely pulls away. And before he knows what’s happening, Ferus and Obi-Wan are sharing their first kiss.
Anakin swallows a gasp watching Obi-Wan grip Ferus’ neck, while the daintier hand nestles in the coarse beard. The exquisite line of Ferus’ refined jaw is angled upwards, desperate and hungry, while Obi-Wan’s brows arc in concentration, eyes closed with full, golden lashes flickering against freckled, pale skin. To kiss his Master is electric. Every time, Anakin feels his whole body ignite. . . but to see it. . .
Anakin moistens his parted lips and tries to remember how to breathe as the two disjoin, showcasing cheerful, twin smiles. They peck each other’s mouths once more as they reluctantly pull away with hands still on one another.
Anakin is still, other than his pulsing cock. Force. How will he ever hide his potentially intrusive desire after a display like that?
Obi-Wan and Ferus look at him at the same time, leaving him embarrassed at how unraveled he is over one kiss.
“Is that what you wanted?” Ferus asks sensually.
“Yep.” Anakin scrambles to get himself under the bed covers.
Obi-Wan chuckles. “Are you okay, my love?”
“Uh, huh. Just. . . kind of cold. . . all of a sudden.” But Anakin feels as if he’s burning from the inside out. “But I’m good. . . That was. . . I liked that,” Anakin grunts out. “Very good,” he sputters once more.
Ferus suppresses his laughter. “Lie down, babydoll,” he directs tenderly.
And Anakin instantly relaxes at that. He’d only hoped Ferus might use that name again. He grins and complies.
Both men admire him from above, as Anakin looks back and forth between them. They each place a gentle kiss to his forehead just as his eyes serenely shut.
They move to join him beneath the sheets, and Anakin innately rolls over into Obi-Wan’s hold, where his erection will be safely hidden and free of blame for seduction.
As Ferus moves to turn off their weatherproof lantern, Obi-Wan shoots him a dashing smile. Once it’s dark, Ferus gives him a quick, private kiss, then shifts to latch onto Anakin – his chest to Anakin’s back. . . the very way he’s secretly longed to hold him all the times he’d had the pleasure of tucking him into bed at night. The arm secured around Anakin feels for Obi-Wan’s hand and grips it tight.
A dozen limbs tangled and six eyes closed, a quartet of amphibians, with a chorus of crickets, harmonize a lullaby to soothe them all to their early, first slumber together.
Notes:
OK! We have TWO wonderful works of art for this chapter, both by Paracosm_draw! The latter was a piece I had been envisioning long before this chapter was posted, and not so much an illustration for a particular scene, but just a visual representation for the feel of this fic. I felt this was the right chapter to share it, as the boys have found themselves all together, and cuddling all together. . . and KISSING together 😍 To finally see Ferus with Obi-Wan and Anakin in a romantic way, all my buttons are hit, and my boxes are checked! This is something I had wanted for a long time, but was waiting for just the right artist to come along. I knew when I started seeing Gabriel’s collections on Tumblr, Twitter, and Bluesky, we had a winner. Their likeliness is amazing, and Gabe worked so hard to get the details just right! Their expressions are beautiful, and their body language is superb. This has been my phone background since I first received it early last month, and I smile at it every time I look at my phone!
THEN, just recently, I was working on edits for this chapter and thought it might be fun to see the boys lined up with their new, matching lightsaber blades, so I decided to reach out to Gabe once again to inquire as to whether or not this would be something of interest for a sketch. I did not expect this to be delivered to us in time for the new chapter, but I am so glad it was! Anakin is practicing so hard 🥹 and Obi-Wan and Ferus are so happy to see him shine ✨ And um. . . they are all looking SO good (naturally, they workout shirtless 🙌🏻). We are so thankful to Paracosm_draw! 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻Additionally, important things to note, for any who are not familiar with The Last of The Jedi book series: Ferus really did obtain three ‘pale blue’ crystals when he visited Ilum (and he did rescue Garen there, too!) He also saw Anakin/Vader and Siri in the cave as I described, and yes, they both told him, “In your plan lies responsibilities.” Of course, Ferus was never intended to rescue Anakin and nurse him back to health in Watson’s book series, but doesn’t that fit so unbelievably well!? 🔥🔥🔥 As do the THREE crystals Ferus retrieved 🩵🩵🩵 This was all preordained long ago 😏
Thank you for reading! This chapter really kicked my ass (I am up wayyyy past my bedtime rn😭), so any positive feedback you have would be very much appreciated ❤️
Chapter Text
The morning is bliss. Obi-Wan awakes first to find Anakin has rolled over and latched onto Ferus, his head secured beneath his chin. Obi-Wan admires the pair for a moment, then tries to quietly sneak out of the tent, but both boys awake and protest.
After an extended period of snuggling, the trio have toast and muja fruit on the patio. But before too long, it is time for Obi-Wan to begin packing.
Obi-Wan will take a railspeeder to the other end of the planet, scheduled to depart right at noon. Since Clive’s cruiser is already in use, and Ferus’ small speeder is only big enough for two, the three men take a hovercab to the station; Anakin, of course, wants to see his Master off.
The goodbyes are bittersweet once Obi-Wan has gotten his token and is ready to board.
He takes in a breath. “Okay, baby, if you need anything, you comm me, but—”
“I know; I won’t unless it’s an emergency.” Anakin’s smile is slight, but genuine.
“Right. Everything will be fine.”
“Right,” Anakin agrees. The two embrace for a long moment. “I don’t know why I’m acting like you’ll be gone a week,” Anakin chastises himself with an uneasy chuckle from over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.
Obi-Wan laughs softly. “I can’t say I’m handling it any better.” He holds Anakin by the cheek. “But we’ll be together again before you know it.”
“And you’ll return with lots of stories to tell us, I’m sure,” Ferus chimes in as he places a hand on Anakin's back.
“Very true.” Obi-Wan smiles at Ferus before moving to hug him. “Thank you,” he whispers to him alone.
“You’re welcome.” Ferus squeezes him. “Have a great time with Lune, and don’t worry about Anakin.”
“I know I don’t have to.” They share a tender kiss. “No lightsaber outside,” Obi-Wan warns Anakin, then can’t resist hugging him a second time.
“Yes, Master,” Anakin sings.
“Let Ferus help you – with whatever you may need. All right?”
“I will.”
“Goodbye, sweetheart. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
One last kiss. . . and a third hug.
Anakin sighs as he and Ferus watch the transport take off. They wave goodbye, even though they aren’t sure if Obi-Wan can see them. A supportive arm comes around Anakin’s shoulders.
Anakin leans into the embrace. “I’m all right,” he promises. “Not like when you left. . .” he notes humorously. “I was a mess; I was so scared I’d never see you again.”
“You were a mess? I was crying so much, Dona kept threatening to turn the ship around.”
“Awww!” Anakin wraps his arms around Ferus’ neck. “We’re lucky she’s so pushy.” He pecks Ferus’ lips.
“Yes, we are, because I was convinced we were better apart, but I was miserable without you.” And with that, Ferus receives one more peck – this one to his jaw.
“What if we don’t take a cab, but walk back?” Anakin suddenly proposes.
Ferus eyes him skeptically. “That’s not a quick walk.”
“I know, but it feels so good out, and I haven’t had any real therapy the last two rotations.”
Ferus arcs a brow and mouth shrugs. “Good point.”
“It’ll be fun; we could take the scenic route. Get lost together.”
“Let’s do it.” Ferus takes his hand.
*
Anakin and Ferus don’t exactly get lost, but they do underestimate just how long of a way that scenic route is. Ferus is extremely concerned about the excessive strain on Anakin’s joints, and the extra stress on his artificial lungs. He keeps apologizing profusely, but Anakin insists he’s fine, and asserts that the additional steps will be good for him.
But Ferus isn’t convinced. He forfeits the beautiful sights and sounds of nature in favor of focusing on Anakin’s physical state. He watches each step to ensure it’s steady, and listens for signs of abnormalities in his elevated breathing. He offers breaks just about every other minute, but Anakin refuses to stop.
Though he can’t deny he’s feeling tired, Anakin views this activity as a stepping stone towards getting his body back in the optimal condition it once was. Reclaiming the weapon of a Jedi had compelled him to work harder. Not only does he want to be able to defend himself, but the men he loves as well. He wants to be their equals again. He wants to be strong, and mighty. . . unstoppable. . . the way others have described him during his time as a solider.
The last Anakin recalls is being a lanky teenager. What’s left of him is more filled out now, but he’s noticed accelerated shrinkage in the muscles of his upper body in the passing months. . . which makes him wonder what kind of exercises he had been doing before. How had he been so massive and bulky when confined to those awful prosthetics and a respirator? Anakin no longer cares to entertain those questions regarding his lost years; he knows he’s likely gotten all the answers he’s going to get.
When the pair arrive back at the house, Anakin tries to make it less obvious how badly he wants to throw himself on the couch, but he’s pulled like a magnet.
Ferus rushes over when Anakin falls into the cushions with a grunt. “Are you okay?? I’m so sorry! Let me get you something to drink.”
Anakin grabs his arm. “Fess, it’s okay. Really.” Anakin tugs him on top of him, but Ferus moves beside him, looking wretched. . . And Anakin hates to see him that way. “Hey. I’m fine,” he assures. “I’m fine.”
“Thankfully!” Ferus explodes. “You’re under my watch for five minutes, and I’m already putting your health at risk.”
“You did not put my health at risk,” Anakin defends. “I could’ve stopped for a break at any time.”
“But you didn’t, and I know you wouldn’t have; I should’ve insisted we take the taxi back.”
“This was good for me,” Anakin promises. “I have to build up that endurance again sometime. I’m not really able to on Tatooine; it’s so hot, and it’s even more taxing to walk in the sand.”
“‘Build up’ are the key words,” Ferus mutters cross.
“We’ll do a shorter walk tomorrow, but I definitely want to do it again. After this, it’s back to pacing the cave.”
Ferus is quiet. He wishes Obi-Wan’s mission with Luke had taken him someplace else. It will be hard for Anakin to improve on such a brutal planet. He wishes. . . Well. . .
“Nobody takes better care of me than you do,” Anakin tells Ferus sweetly when he goes mute. “Not even Obi-Wan – just don’t tell him I said that. I promise I’m fine. I feel really good, actually.” Anakin’s legs extend out in a long stretch.
Ferus curls closer to him. “Obi-Wan has taken care of you since you were little; and I overwork you in the first hour of his absence,” he laments as he burrows under Anakin’s chin.
Anakin gladly accepts this switch in their typical cuddle dynamic. He lets his body relax as he is the one to hold Ferus for a change. “And now Obi-Wan will take care of Lune,” Anakin mildly shifts the subject. “I can’t believe he’s a dad,” he marvels. “I can’t get it out of my head; he’s a dad – he has a child. He has a real family – biologically – by blood, and that means, I’m sort of like a step-dad– kind of. . . I don’t know if Lune will see me that way, but it would be pretty cool if he did.”
The corners of Ferus’ mouth twitch upwards. “You’d like to be a dad?” he queries.
“I know it’s not something a Jedi was supposed to be thinking about – it wasn’t an option for us to have traditional families, but yeah, I do think I’d like to be a dad. . . I just don’t know if I’d be any good at it.”
“You would be, because you’re so loving and caring.”
“I don’t know how much love and care I could provide these days. I can’t imagine having a little one when I can hardly take care of myself; I wonder what Obi-Wan would’ve been like with a baby – like if he’d known about Lune when he was first born.”
“Well, he seems pretty good with your nephew.” Ferus feels like a fool for bringing up Luke in this father and son topic of conversation.
“He seems kind of scared of him,” Anakin chuckles. “I dunno, like he’s afraid to get close to him. I’m anxious to see what he’ll be like with Lune when they return. It’s interesting how the names Lune and Luke are so similar, huh? It’s like names you’d give brothers – twins even.”
“Yeah,” Ferus answers slowly. “Could be.”
“I wonder how much longer Obi-Wan will want to stay here.”
“How much longer do you want to stay here?”
“Me? Well, you know, I never want to go home.” Anakin smiles at Ferus’ cheerful laugh. “I like it here,” he continues. “I like being with you.”
Ferus sits up to face him. “When you go back to Tatooine. . . I’m going with you.”
“Really??” Anakin lights up.
“Yeah.” Ferus smiles.
“Not like permanently, though, right? How long would you stay?”
“We’ll just see how it goes. And maybe not permanently for you either; maybe you can travel with me sometimes, depending on where my work or any Jedi leads take me.”
“I would really love that. Honestly, I don’t know about staying on Tatooine forever. It’s a good home base, and it had been my home for the first nine years of my life, but eventually, I’d like to feel like I have purpose again. I have my little job, but. . . Well, I’m not changing any lives cleaning the kitchen.”
“You positively impact more lives than you realize, but I understand what you mean. We’ll just take it a day at a time; you never know what life might bring.”
“Understatement of the millennia,” Anakin blows out. “Never thought I’d wake up one day without my memories. I never thought there’d be a time with no Order, and no Republic. I surely never thought I’d end up like this.” He raises his prosthetic arms, but Anakin's somber expression soon brightens. “I never thought I’d get to be with Obi-Wan – that he’d tell me he loves me. . . and I never dreamed I’d find myself in your arms.”
Ferus smiles and opens those arms to receive. Anakin props his feet up on the couch as he allows Ferus to hold him. “Things are certainly different than I expected as well. I never imagined any sort of life other than serving the Jedi. When I’d think about the future, I’d envision myself the conventional stoic, wise-old Master.”
“Did you ever imagine yourself with a Padawan?”
“In truth, no. I thought about it, but I couldn’t picture it. The Master and Padawan relationship is so complex. As a Master, one wrong move, and you could ruin everything – ruin a life. I guess that level of responsibility scared me.”
“But there were plenty of lives you were responsible for with each and every mission.”
“It’s different. I was always willing to make sacrifices – I wouldn’t hesitate to put my life on the line to help others in peril, but I don’t know that I’d want an apprentice to follow that same principle. I’d want to keep them safe. . . Attachment. . . I know I would’ve struggled with it. And I guess it was you and Obi-Wan that sort of made me see that. I can remember how the two of you would be so worried about one another when we were out in the field. All the decisions you’d make revolved around each other. And I’ll admit, I judged you both for that. I felt like it was an interference, because you might be putting the charges second, but I knew, if I had a Padawan, I wouldn’t be any better. . . And now that I have you, like Obi-Wan has you, I’m definitely not any better. I worried about you all the time before, and I still worry about you now. But, in a way, the worry keeps me grounded; to have you in my life keeps me grounded. With you, it’s like. . . Anakin??” Ferus feels Anakin’s weight pressing harder against him. He hears the deeper breathing and observes how Anakin’s head has slid slightly off his chest and more onto his shoulder. “Nap time then? That walk really did wear you out.” Ferus sighs. “I was just going to say, that with you, I don’t hurt so much. With you, I forget my pain.” He kisses the top of Anakin’s head. . . but Ferus doesn’t know if forgetting is the right thing to do.
*
The following afternoon, Obi-Wan and his son sit facing one another crossed-legged in the sand as waves crash along the shore.
Relief does not even begin to describe what Obi-Wan had felt when he’d exited the hovercab to find Lune sprinting from the beach house and right into his arms. Obi-Wan had fought tears as he’d lifted the boy off the ground and held him tight. He’d learned Lune had been ecstatic at the news, anxious for his ‘dad’ to arrive.
Since then, they have spent nearly every moment together.
The father and son have just completed quite the impressive build of a city of small sandcastles. Now, Lune uses a play shovel to scrape a moat around their little village. He unexpectedly hits an obstruction, and digs out the most glorious looking seashell Obi-Wan has ever seen. It is an array of hues of blue and teal and rust, spiraled in an intricate and open pattern. It is unscathed – no breaks, chips, or cracks, and it fits perfectly in Lune’s palm. His gray-blue eyes widen, and he gives his father a thrilling grin.
“Wow!” Obi-Wan is astounded. “I’ve not spent much time by the ocean, but I don’t believe I’ve even seen a shell like that one. You’ve found a real treasure.” Lune passes the nautilus-shaped shell to him, and Obi-Wan spins it over in his hand. “That is just beautiful - a wonderful keepsake from your trip.”
“I’m going to give it to Anakin,” Lune decides confidently.
“To Anakin?” Obi-Wan questions.
“Yeah, I think he’d like it.”
“I think so, too, but don’t you want to keep it?”
“I want Anakin to have it, since he couldn’t be here with us.”
“That is very selfless and kind, and I know he would love and appreciate it very much.”
Lune grins again. Obi-Wan wraps the relic in a handkerchief and puts it in the pocket of his trousers for safe-keeping. He is deeply touched by the altruistic gesture. More than anything he wants Anakin to connect with his son. . . only second to wanting Anakin to connect with his own son. . .
“Let’s find one for Ferus!” Lune shouts happily as he runs towards the shore.
Obi-Wan chases after him with a smile ready to split his face and a heart about to burst. He won’t tell Lune the odds of finding a second, rare shell are slim, but he admires his hope. . . Astri had raised their son to carry hope. And it is what the galaxy needs in these dark times. . . Lune, Luke, Leia. They were all beams of light in the darkness. They were the promise for a brighter future.
*
Obi-Wan hadn’t had to worry about Anakin’s safety regarding the use of his new lightsaber. . . Anakin had hardly picked it up. He and Ferus’ time together has been mostly comprised of cuddles and kisses. . . so many kisses. . .
Even when Ferus assists Anakin with his healing ointment regimen, he presses his lips to the areas bare of slave just before applying it. All the while, he is in awe of how different the skin looks and feels as he reinstates his famous, restorative massages, immediately melting away Anakin’s tension at the vulnerability he feels in Ferus not having seen this much of him in some time.
Their second evening together finds them, once again, in the guest bed that Anakin had originally shared with Obi-Wan. . . where they resume their kissing. . . so much kissing. . .
Anakin had been through this same phase with Obi-Wan; it isn’t as if he’s not enjoying the kisses, he most certainly is, but just as he had been ready to progress with Obi-Wan, he’s ready for the next step with Ferus as well.
Naturally, Anakin is feeling uneasy about his still-sensitive and battered-looking flesh, but this time, Ferus is the greater concern; they must move at his pace.
At the conclusion of yet another make-out marathon, Anakin lies flat on his back as Ferus hovers over him in close proximity, silently admiring the lips he’d just left red and puffy.
Anakin giggles. “Hi,” is his response to the intense, wordless stare.
“Hi.” Ferus bites his smiling bottom lip. “This reminds me of when you woke up after your surgery,” he can’t help but point out the similarities. “You don’t remember, I’m sure.”
“No?” Anakin fishes.
“You kept trying to get up; I kept having to push you down. You finally stayed put when I honored your request to see me. I lined up my face with yours, just like this, and do you know what you said?”
“What?”
“Hi.” Ferus makes sure to impersonate the pitifulness and the pout.
Anakin laughs. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Ferus pecks his lips.
“What else did I say?”
“You manipulated me into giving you a head rub.” Ferus begins massaging Anakin’s scalp the same way he had at that time. “Your hair has grown so much,” he comments fondly. He winds his finger around a short curl. “So pretty.”
Anakin reaches his synth-flesh hand for the long locks that are currently dangling in front of his face. “I don’t remember a whole lot from those first few days, but I remember zeroing in on this.” He gently tucks the silver strands behind Ferus’ ear. “I was mostly incoherent, but I noticed it right away; the gold was beautiful on you, but there’s something special about the silver.”
“You don’t think it makes me look old?”
“Nope.” The two continue mutually carding through each other’s hair.
“Do you like Obi-Wan’s silver hairs, too?” Ferus wonders.
Anakin laughs. “Yes, but he doesn’t, so don’t let him know you noticed them.”
“Noted.” Ferus chuckles. “I like them, too, though.”
“I like his eye crinkles. . . Don’t mention those either.”
“All right,” Ferus snorts. “. . . You missed him today.”
“I did. I know it’s really only one full day apart, but it sort of feels incomplete when we’re not together, because we’ve always been together, since I was nine years old.”
“That’s a lot of years together.”
“It is. I used to hate it when we’d get separated – especially when he’d have to go on missions without me.”
“Where you would proceed to pout,” Ferus assumes teasingly.
Anakin laughs. “Yep. Pouts. I’d never let him leave before first begging to go with him, or begging him to stay.”
“You’re the reason for the white hairs.”
“Probably,” Anakin acknowledges sheepishly. “There was this one trip when I was eleven, and I threw an absolute fit because it was so close to Life Day. And he actually got out of it; he stayed with me.”
“I wonder how he explained this to the Council. . . ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t go, because my clingy Padawan needs me,’” Ferus jokes.
“Probably something along those lines.” Anakin sucks in his lips. “I really was upset, though. Like, bordering-on-panic-attack upset. Life Day was hard my first few years at the Temple.”
“I bet.” Ferus moves beside Anakin, then invites him into his hold. “I remember when you first came to the Temple. I remember the first time we spoke. It was in the droid repair area.”
“I was there pretty often,” Anakin muses.
“Yes,” Ferus chuckles.
“What did we talk about? Maybe I remember, too.”
“You told me I was lucky I didn’t remember my homeworld, and I remember I didn’t know what to say. I felt bad; I wanted to offer you something, but I didn’t know what to give. I remember thinking you seemed lonely, and I wanted to be your friend, but I didn’t know how. I wasn’t much better than the droids in that repair shop. I’m sorry.” And Ferus is. How different might things have been had he and Anakin started off on the right foot? “I’m sorry for our lost years. I’m sorry we wasted time feuding when I could’ve been there for you back then like I am now.”
“I wasn’t your responsibility, Fess.”
“No, but you were trying to tell me – trying to open up to me, about your mom. Of course you needed Obi-Wan with you on Life Day. But maybe, had I been there, or someone had been there for you besides him. . .”
“We both know it was mostly my fault. I pushed people away. I was way too attached to Obi-Wan. . . not that things are much different now,” Anakin adds humorously. “And I was. . . selfish. I wanted to be a Jedi. I wanted to help people, and I always felt good about it when I did, but we weren’t supposed to be helping others for our own benefit. You tried to tell me that plenty of times, but I was too busy showing off and trying to impress Obi-Wan to care.”
Ferus can’t help but chuckle, but he is empathetic to Anakin’s self-blame. “I shouldn’t have been so tough on you – it wasn’t even remotely my place; you weren’t the only one trying to impress Obi-Wan and the other Masters. You made some mistakes, and I was so self-righteous, I took pleasure in pointing them out, because it made me feel better about myself. None of us were perfect. We all walked a difficult path, and yours was surely a bit more challenging than the rest, because you came late in the game.”
“And I had no business being there. The Masters first denied me to be trained; I was given the thumbs down, but I ended up at the Battle of Naboo, because they weren’t sure what they were going to do with me yet. Then, Qui-Gon died, and he was so sure I was this 'Chosen One,' and he begged Obi-Wan to train me. So, he fought to make me his Padawan, but he shouldn’t have; it didn’t even make a difference. They let me in the Order with hopes that I would bring balance to the Force, and the galaxy is worse off than it ever was. I failed. I’m not the Chosen One. I’m not anything anymore. I can’t even—”
Ferus hears the sudden outpour of choked sobs. He shifts and sees the tears streaking over Anakin’s cheeks. “Oh, hey,” he lulls. “Hey, it’s okay.” He helps Anakin sit up and dabs the wetness from his face.
“It’s hard, Ferus. I hate to whine about it, but it’s so hard sometimes.”
“What’s hard? Tell me.” Ferus continues wiping at the recurrent tears with his thumbs.
“I’m no better than I used to be. Still so selfish.”
“You’re not,” Ferus promises.
“I am. These last few months, I’ve only been focused on myself and my struggles and my happiness.”
“That’s part of your recovery, Anakin. You have to focus to make progress.”
Anakin stubbornly shakes his head. “I get down about the way I feel, what I can and can’t do, the way I look, but there’s a whole galaxy out there, full of people with way bigger problems.”
“There isn’t a whole lot we can do about that right now.” Ferus hadn’t felt that way before Anakin had come into his life, but now he was seeing things from a different perspective – from Obi-Wan’s perspective. . . from a perspective of patience.
“I know. . . We wait; that’s what we’re supposed to do, but. . .”
“What?”
“I feel. . . I feel so guilty that I’m so happy; so many Jedi are dead – the Order is dead. We’re in this era of unrest as the Empire is slowing taking over planets and sucking up all their resources, and I’m here with you and Obi-Wan, feeling the best I have in ages. . . And it’s not right,” Anakin weeps. “And even if I wanted to go out there and fight like you had been, this stupid excuse for a body wouldn’t even carry me through. It’s a constant loop of despair and joy, and it’s so confusing. I’m either feeling badly about myself and feeling guilty for being self-absorbed, or I’m feeling good, feeling loved, then feeling guilty for finding peace when others are so tortured. But I’m tortured, too. The guilt. . . I can’t seem to. . . It’s always there.”
Ferus strokes his face. “First of all, it’s okay to be happy. I’m glad when you’re happy, and you make me happy, too, but also, I understand; I understand what you’re saying.” Anakin’s tearful eyes meet his own. “After I left the Jedi, I tried to force myself to stay miserable. I felt like I had to atone. I had abandoned my duty, and I felt I was meant to live a lonely life of repentance. . . but then I’d feel badly for being a martyr. I felt stuck. Then, I met Roan, and he took me out of all of that. He showed me how to live – to really live for the first time. And for a while, I forgot all about the Jedi, and what I used to be, and I became a husband instead, and I had family, and a real home. . . But when the war started, I had the same guilt you describe. I was in marital bliss while my Jedi family were dying on the frontlines. It was hard to balance my emotions. I definitely felt selfish at times. But I talked to Roan about it the way you’re talking to me now, and I’d like to tell you what he told me if you want to hear it.”
Anakin is a bit startled to hear Ferus speak so openly about Roan; he never had before. Anakin knows it is a painful subject for him, and he is touched that he would want to share this with him despite the grief it could cause.
Ferus doesn’t wait for a reply – he unloads, “He’d tell me as the galaxy continues to breed hardships, we must continue to breed happiness. And all the while we fought in the war, and afterwards, when we formed our rebellion group to stand against the Empire, we were happy. Fighting together brought us closer; it made us stronger. We’d put in a hard day’s work, but we’d still have our quiet moments just like you and I are having now, and they were perfect and wonderful, and so full of love and joy. . . There’s nothing wrong with needing to hide away from it all at times. And I know you, Anakin Skywalker, and I know Obi-Wan Kenobi. You won’t sit idle. We’ve got some things to work through between the three of us right now, and you yourself have some physical obstacles to overcome, but this isn’t the rest of our lives. At some point, we’re going to fight. Do you how I know?” Anakin snivels and stares at Ferus in awe. “Because you’re a hero.”
Anakin averts his eyes. He surely doesn’t feel like a hero.
Ferus grabs his face. “Did you know that’s what they used to call you? The Hero with no Fear. I know you last remember being a seventeen-year-old Padawan who only cared about keeping his Master all to himself, but you grew into a man who was so much more than that. When the galaxy faced war, you did EVERYTHING in your power to put a stop to it. You and Obi-Wan were synonymous with hope. You always came to the rescue. You selflessly helped so many people – saved countless lives. Maybe you didn’t fulfil that Chosen One prophecy, but you were an inspiration to those who were lost and afraid.”
“But in the end, I let all those people down,” Anakin blubbers. “All those people were counting on me, and we lost the war. The Jedi fell. The Empire took over. We failed. We lost. I let them down. Why couldn’t I help them? Why couldn’t I stop it? Why couldn’t I be the Chosen One? What went wrong??”
Ferus’ stomach is in knots at the turn this conversation has taken; he knows exactly where things went wrong. Anakin’s passion had somehow gotten the better of him. He’d been a hero, yes, but he’d been a fallen one. And now he is wordless as Anakin cries, unable to do anything but hold him close. “There’s still time to change things,” he whispers. “Remember what we said yesterday; we don’t yet know what the future holds. We can’t look back. Even if everything else we learned at the Temple was a sham, we can’t look back,” he chants adamantly.
“It’s hard not to focus on the past when there’s so much of it I want to remember.”
“Sometimes it’s better to forget,” Ferus vows in conviction. He cradles Anakin’s head and combs through his hair. “Start fresh.”
Anakin sniffs back the last of his tears and does his best to reset. “I’m sorry I ruined our night.”
“You didn’t, babydoll.”
“Yes, I did. We were kissing and having fun, and as usual, I end up crying.”
Ferus chortles. “There’s nothing wrong with crying.” He dips Anakin in his hold and kisses his lips softly. “And it’s not like we haven’t done plenty of kissing. . . We needed to talk; I’m glad we did.”
“Me too.” Anakin rubs at his eyes. “And thank you – for saying all of that. . . I know it wasn’t. . . You’re right; we should create happy moments in the midst of the chaos.”
The threat of grief grabs Ferus by the throat, but he wills it away, kicking himself for bringing about the reminder of his husband. The feel of Anakin’s fingers curling around his neck sustain him.
“So, do we go back to kissing now??” Anakin's inquires curious and meek.
Ferus exhales and smiles. “We can. . . if you like. . .”
Anakin elevates, taking Ferus by the mouth, inadvertently forcing him back against the headboard. He moves on all fours, holding the side of Ferus’ face, and massaging his tongue with his own. He runs his warmer hand along his jaw, and over his neck, and down the length of his midsection. When he meets the end of Ferus’ undertunic, he goes up and under it on reflex, feeling the hilly muscles of his taut torso. Instinctively, he then slides right into the waistband of his pants. . . and halts. “Sorry – I’m sorry!” His body snaps back in surrender.
“Sorry for what? There’s nothing to apologize for. Come back here.” Ferus tugs him to return to his former place. He effortlessly strips out of his nightshirt and guides Anakin’s hand to his waist. . . fingers pointed towards that elastic band.
Anakin smiles, taking a moment to appreciate what lies before him. . . gorgeous and inviting brown eyes, adorable smirk. As his gaze travels south to admire the lovely olive tone of his pectorals, Ferus wiggles out of his pants with a wicked grin.
Anakin is giggling. “You’re gonna sleep in your undies tonight??” The question is full of enthusiasm.
“Maybe I wasn’t planning on going right to sleep, and maybe I wasn’t planning on wearing these either.”
Anakin’s eyes are large. His melts down and presses his lips to Ferus’ chest. Upon bestowing a few more smooches in the surrounding areas, he lets his cheek rest to his abdomen. “Your skin is so soft, and you taste so sweet.” His next kiss is open-mouthed and sloppy.
“Do I get to taste you, too?”
“Well, my skin isn’t so soft,” Anakin auto replies.
“I know what your skin feels like.”
“I know you do, and thank you for helping me with my wound treatment again. I – I really appreciate it.”
“You know I like to help you,” Ferus promises. “The salve makes you feel good, and I like to be the one to make you feel good,” he says intently.
Anakin swallows hard. “But you don’t have to touch me if there isn’t any ointment to apply.”
Ferus’ mouth turns in a sympathetic pout. “What if I want to?”
“Do you?” Anakin asks unsure.
“I do. . . How many times must I tell you how beautiful you are?” Ferus hums. “Sweet eyes, handsome nose, brilliant smile. . .”
That smile is bashful when Anakin remembers when Ferus had last used those adjectives in conjunction with each of his features. . . their very first night alone together.
“And you have ravishing skin – remarkable and miraculous.”
“What about my eyebrows and eyelashes?”
Ferus chuckles. “Exceptional.”
And with that, Anakin finds the confidence to remove his shirt. He won’t pass on the opportunity to feel Ferus’ warm skin mingling with his own. The sensations he feels when he touches others with his mechanical hands can’t compare to what he registers with his cheek or by way of his chest. The synth flesh covering had made a difference, but there is still nothing like the real thing.
Anakin presses himself against Ferus and relishes in the intimate feeling of flesh on flesh. He quivers at the touch of Ferus’ strong hands holding his bare back.
They resume their earlier make-out session, as Ferus runs his fingers over every area of exposed skin. Anakin appreciatively moans, and forgets how to kiss. He throws his head back as Ferus worshipfully moves his lips from scar to scar. He grips the fabric of Anakin’s leggings and pulls, anticipating support or protest.
Anakin chooses an in-between option.
“Fess, I need to tell you some stuff.” Anakin is writhing on the sheets, but summoning the strength for composure.
Ferus kisses back up the line of Anakin’s sternum, and right to his lips, then relinquishes. “Okay.” He provides one more peck. “What is it?” He rests comfortably on his side, facing Anakin.
Anakin turns toward him. “I don’t know what you had in mind, but I’m. . . limited in what I can do.”
Ferus gets more serious for the moment. “All right.” There is expectation in his voice.
“I’m very sensitive. . . in there.” Anakin motions to the leggings. “My recovery hasn’t been as rapid below the belt.”
“Tell me what I need to know,” Ferus offers kindly. “What do you need to tell me?”
“Well, it’s not always consistent; some days, I’m less sensitive than others. . . but most of the time. . .” Anakin huffs. “The thing is, it still – works, but, um. . . it can’t always be worked. More often than not, it can’t.” Anakin looks down just in time to see Ferus grip his hand.
“We’ll do whatever you want to do; tell me the best place for us to start.”
Anakin involuntarily smiles at ‘us.’ “Well, you can touch me – if you want,” he adds quickly. “I still like to be touched, but just gently.”
“Like slow movement?”
“Well, like no movement.” Anakin recoils.
“It’s really okay.” Ferus strokes his cheek. “So, no movement, just like, holding you,” he clarifies, because he thinks he understands. “Is there anything else you want me to know?”
“I can receive with no problem,” Anakin blurts.
Ferus reddens. “Good to know. . .”
“I wasn’t trying to say we have to do anything like that tonight.”
“Okay,” Ferus lets out an anxious laugh.
“And, um. . . I can touch you. . . if you want – if you’re okay with. . .” Anakin holds up his left hand.
“I’d be fine with that. . . More than fine. . .”
Anakin smiles awkwardly. “I’m sorry this is so. . .”
“No!” Ferus answers quickly. “It’s okay! Promise. I’m glad you had the balls to bring it up, because I was a little nervous – I didn’t want to hurt or upset you.”
“My balls are well done, but I do have ‘um.”
Ferus bursts out laughing – a much needed release for the both of them. “You’re hilarious.”
“I don’t have much else going for me.” Anakin shows all his teeth.
“Stop!” Ferus playfully shoves him. “You’re the total package.”
“The extra crispy package.”
“Anakin!” Ferus is cackling.
Anakin laughs along with him; he loves making Ferus laugh. “There’s only one other thing. . .” Anakin shifts to rise from the bed.
“What’s that?” Ferus sits up to watch him.
Anakin rummages through his luggage, and emerges with three swaths of black fabric. He sees Ferus’ head tilt in curiosity. “So, these are. . . If I’m not clothed, I wear these over my arm and legs, so the metal isn’t so cold or uncomfortable if you want to get close to me.”
“Oh.” Ferus frowns. “You don’t have to put those on if you don’t want to.”
“No, I like to. I can relax more. Obi-Wan always tells me I don’t need to worry about wearing them either, but I’d rather there be some cushion between the durasteel and you, just in case.”
“Okay,” Ferus agrees with a smile. “Do you need help?”
“Nah.” Anakin first slips the sleeve over his exposed prosthetic arm. He starts to pull down his pants, but then stops to turn off the lamp.
With a wave of Ferus’ hand, it immediately comes back on, but dimly lit. Ferus gives Anakin a stern look. “I can be accommodating, but that’s pitch black! I want to see you,” he tells him affectionately.
“Okay. Compromise, then.” Anakin takes in a breath as he sits on the edge of the bed and reluctantly removes the clothing from his lower half. He tugs on the thick stockings one at a time, then scurries back to Ferus, and buries under the covers.
Ferus smiles. He ditches his undergarments and joins Anakin beneath the blankets.
He rolls inward, on his knees at Anakin’s side. Their lips meet again. Ferus passes his hand over Anakin’s hip, then under his raised thigh. . . now over to the valley just below his pelvic bone. . .
Ferus gingerly moves two fingers along the surface of Anakin’s erect shaft. He eyes him for direction on whether or not to proceed.
Anakin tries not to squirm; lighter pressure is sometimes worse than the normal amount. “Don’t, uh. . .”
“Don’t what?” Ferus retracts his hand in alarm.
“No, it’s okay, just. . . hold, like I explained before. Any movement is. . .”
“Okay.” Ferus carefully cups his hand around the girth, looking and listening for signs of distress.
“Yeah. That’s. . . that’s. . . I know it doesn’t seem impactful, but it is.”
Ferus leans forward for a peck, still holding the joystick in his grasp. It’s unusual not to progress after the initial clutch, but he can see it on Anakin’s face that the simple contact is bringing him pleasure; his cheeks have gotten a bit pink, and his lashes keep fluttering. Ferus kisses his forehead. “Good?”
“Yeah, good, Fess,” Anakin lets out contentedly.
“Have you ever tried a wet hand?” Ferus wonders suddenly. “Or maybe. . . maybe a tongue might feel better than a hand,” he proposes. . . and he can’t believe what he’s proposing. His experience in that department is. . . one-sided, and his hindered knowledge is all on the wrong side of the metaphorical fence. But Ferus is willing to try, because above all, he wants Anakin to be satisfied and comfortable.
Anakin’s eyes go wide. “Like oral? On me??”
“Sure,” Ferus tries to say it coolly.
“I’ve done it on Obi-Wan, but he hasn’t tried it on me. I don’t foresee the sucking being very kind to the sensitivity issue.”
“No sucking. What if I just put my mouth around you in the same way I’m holding my hand around you.” Ferus can do that – no skill involved.
“Um. Okay. Only if you want to.”
“We can try it, and you can tell me if it’s not working.”
Anakin gives a leery, but eager nod.
Ferus pulls the covers back from Anakin’s lap and squats between his opened legs. “Just tell me if it’s uncomfortable at all, okay?”
“You, too,” Anakin reciprocates. “If it’s not good for you. . . I’ll understand.”
Ferus knows Anakin is referring to his physicality, but the irony is, Ferus has no idea if this is something he’ll enjoy doing, simply because he’s never done it before. He kisses the inside of Anakin’s thigh reassuringly; it could never be his fault if he learns this isn’t his forte.
Ferus assesses the plump cock. When his husband had done this to him in the past, he had touched him first, stroked him, licked him, but these things could potentially be problematic for Anakin; Ferus knows his best bet is to dive right in.
He holds the outer part of Anakin’s leg securely as he opens his mouth wide to take him in, delicately pressing his tongue to the underside of his erection.
Anakin unintentionally jerks. “Okay, yeah,” he puffs out. “That’s, uh, nice. Yeah.”
Ferus has to release him, because he can’t help but smile, but he gently clamps down again, this time with his head tilted so his tongue catches him from the right. He wriggles it just barely against the flesh, his saliva creating less friction on the sensitive skin than a dry hand.
“Oh! Oh!” Anakin grunts out. “Oh, Force!”
Ferus’ head pops up again. “Good Force? Bad Force??”
Anakin lets out a low laugh. “Good Force. Very good.”
Ferus repeats the process of rotating his head to take care of the opposite side, bringing in a tad more length this time. And in his attempt to complete the circle, he doesn’t release, but rolls his tongue up over the top of Anakin’s cock as he maneuvers back upright.
“Ferus! I’m gonna!”
Ferus raises his head just as Anakin ejaculates; he snatches his discarded underclothes to catch the spill.
Anakin exhales loudly.
“Okay?” Ferus nuzzles his jaw and observes Anakin’s chest quick-pulsing up and down.
“Oh, yeah. Yes.” Anakin feels foolish that he’d been too self-conscious to try this before. “Yes!” he says again for emphasis.
Ferus is busy laughing when Anakin suddenly shoves him off of him, pins him to the bed, and starts mercilessly kissing him.
Anakin grabs him by the knees and roughly spreads his thighs. Ferus doesn’t have time to comprehend what he is doing before Anakin is devouring him.
Ferus gasps, thrusting his body back, firm into the bed, fists clutching the sheets. He fights to keep a yelp from escaping his lips.
Oral sex had never been Ferus’ favorite form of intimacy; he’d always preferred his husband’s face close to his, not a torso’s length away. He’d reveled in the sensation, but it had always left him craving more.
But this?
Whatever Anakin was doing was unlike anything he’d experienced before. His entire length was somehow taken into Anakin’s moist trap, scandalously curving down the canal of his throat. His sweaty sack was meticulously smothered in a relentless palm, practically smashed against his arse in the most advantageous way.
Internally, Ferus is begging for more – there is evidence that his body is begging for more; his bent knees are tremoring rapidly, and the heels of his feet shuffle and stab into the mattress as Anakin sucks him senseless.
The movements and sounds only entice Anakin. He was said to be the master of oral – a cock-sucking connoisseur, by the man he was closest to. And Anakin always aimed for that level of praise. . . his not-so-private kink. And he won’t feel accomplished unless Ferus verbalizes something similar.
So, Anakin bobs his head and rolls his neck, swirling his tongue from base to tip while using a hand to keep Ferus entirely enclosed at all times.
“ANAKIN! F-FUCK!”
That’s a start. . . Anakin hears Ferus muttering; he strains his ears to listen.
“Anakin! How are you. . . oh. OH! AH! AHHH! You’re – you’re – you’re. . .”
I’m what? Anakin thinks as he goes for the olympic medal in fellatio. Say it. Please say it. . .
Ferus doesn’t have to say it; his cock says it for him as he pours into Anakin’s mouth – an unexpected orgasm that makes his head spin. Had he ever come so hard? Certainly not so abruptly.
Ferus whimpers a glorious cry that is just as good as the spoken admiration Anakin had wanted. He swallows Ferus’ seed, then licks it from his lips as he eases off.
“Oh, god,” Ferus pants. “Holy—Anakin, oh, god.”
A god? Anakin will gladly accept that title. He props himself up on a cocky elbow at Ferus’ side.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Ferus asks in disbelief.
Anakin shrugs. “It’s just my good instincts.”
“You’ve always had good. . . instincts,” Ferus agrees as he catches his breath. “You were sensational, babydoll.”
‘Sensational.’ Anakin likes that almost as much as ‘babydoll.’ “So, that was good for you, then?”
“Uh. Yeah.” Ferus belly laughs.
Anakin grins smugly, then places his ear over Ferus’ thumping heart. “I like what you did for me, too. . . Thank you,” he tells Ferus appreciatively.
Ferus brushes Anakin’s hair back. “I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do,” he reminds. “. . . And I didn’t do nearly as much work as you,” he chuckles.
“Well, it doesn’t take much for me,” Anakin admits with a laugh. “Especially with you. . . my first time with you,” he notes with sentiment.
Ferus smiles and squeezes him, then hears him exclaim. . .
“I can’t wait to tell Obi-Wan!!”
Notes:
More credits to Jude Watson: In one of TLOTJ books, Ferus reminisces about the first time he'd met Anakin. . . in the Temple droid repair shop 😍 And Anakin really did tell Ferus he was lucky he didn't remember his homeworld 🥺
So, I have something fun to share with you! A reader, and very dear friend of mine, sent me the link to a song that she felt fit this story. Um, it's so cute. And it definitely feels appropriate for this fic and for our three beloved boys 🥰
Here For You Spotify
Here For You YouTube
We thank you for sharing! This makes me so happy 🥹💕🙏🏻Thank you for reading 💗
Chapter 23
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Joyful greetings can be heard all throughout the foyer as Clive, Astri, Trever, Lune, and Obi-Wan (and Leven) return.
Ferus grins when he sees Trever, forcing a hug on him that he knows the teen will never admit he wants. “Did you have a good time?”
“The best,” Trever remarks. “I don’t want to go back to school,” he whines.
“You’ve been off for Shrove Taungsday for a week.” Astri raises a brow at her eldest son. “But. . . I might be willing to let you and your brother extend your vacation by a few more rotations.”
“Really?!” Trever is floored.
“Really. If you can complete your assignments here at home.”
“Deal!”
Anakin laughs as he takes his turn in welcoming Trever. Leven zips around them both, beeping and whistling excitedly. “A boat ride?” Anakin decodes the droid’s message. “To an island? _ _ _ _ _ _ Okay, yes, I definitely want to see all the data you’ve collected once everyone is settled.” Anakin grins. “I guess I did right by sending you off, then.” Leven gives a powerful boop in the positive as a response, then chases after Trever.
Lune comes in next, and Anakin is surprised that the boy moves straight for him with a grand, wampa-sized hug. His heart flutters as he stoops lower for a more proper embrace. They meet each other’s gaze – something unspoken, but understood between them.
Obi-Wan nearly drops the armfuls of luggage at the sight, as he moves through the threshold. There is his beloved Anakin, hugging his precious son. . . so tenderly, affectionately; Anakin doesn’t even notice him approaching, until Lune is releasing him and moving to Ferus.
“Hello, baby.” There is a twinkle in Obi-Wan’s eye.
“Obi-Wan!!” Anakin springs upright and tackles him, planting kisses all over his face. He was happy to see the others, but he’d been champing at the bit waiting for his Master to walk through that door.
Obi-Wan laughs. “Oh, I missed you.” He bestows his own kisses and squeezes him. “How was it? You’re good?” He presses his lips to Anakin’s forehead.
“Great,” Anakin replies intently.
Obi-Wan chuckles as he frees an arm and opens it to Ferus, Anakin still clinging to him. “And you’re good?”
“I’m great,” Ferus echoes, snuggling to Obi-Wan’s opposite side.
“What about you?” Anakin asks. “Did you have a good trip?”
“It was amazing. . . I have an amazing son. We had great fun.”
“If that’s what you want to call it,” Astri chimes in as she grabs some of her son’s things that Obi-Wan had placed down.
Anakin laughs. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’ll just say I’m very glad Obi-Wan was there to engage Lune in his shell search. . . They are truly father and son – same twisted idea of fun.”
Lune takes a bucket from his mom’s hands. “We got so many good ones!” he exclaims.
“Hardly even went in the water,” Astri muses fondly. “He had a mission, and he saw it through. . . That sound like someone else you know??” She eyes Anakin with a sly grin.
“You both should’ve come!” Lune tells Anakin and Ferus vivaciously. “But we got you each a souvenir,” he reveals proudly.
“Aww that’s so sweet.” Anakin looks at Ferus, his turned-down mouth somehow still translating to a smile.
“Come see!” Lune races through the house to get to the backyard.
Obi-Wan is glowing as he, Anakin, and Ferus follow the child, who empties his pail of shells onto the ground, and begins spreading them all out.
It’s easy for Anakin to make a big fuss over Lune’s treasures, because he is indeed impressed. “This is an amazing collection!” There are about two dozen or so seashells of all shapes and sizes, interesting textures and beautiful, natural colors. But then, Lune produces a shell like Anakin has never seen – blue and rust hues wrapped around a skeletal spiral. Anakin holds out his hand, and Lune passes it to him. “This is so karking cool!”
“Anakin!” Obi-Wan scolds at the language in front of his young soon.
Anakin winces. “Sorry, Master.”
Lune giggles. “It’s for you!”
“Me?”
“Yep, I knew it was meant for you when I saw it.”
Anakin is touched. “Really??” The boy nods. “This is so beautiful, thank you so much, but I can’t take this from you; you’ll never find another one like it in a million years.”
“I know, but I want you to have it,” Lune tells him confidently.
“Are you sure? You should keep it.”
“I’m sure,” Lune promises cheerfully. “It’s yours.”
“He declared it yours from the start,” Obi-Wan encourages. Anakin is glassy-eyed as he holds his stare.
“Oh, Lune. Thank you,” Anakin tells him again. He can’t resist opening his arms to invite the boy for another embrace. “Thank you. I’ll always keep it.”
“You’re welcome.” Lune’s returned phrase is kind and pleased. “And this one is for Ferus.” He comes out of Anakin’s hold to pluck a second shell from his collection.
“I get one, too?” Ferus queries jubilantly. “Whoa! It’s pink!” he laughs. “Very pink! This is gorgeous; you actually found these on the beach??”
“Yours was a bit tricky to recover,” Obi-Wan recounts. “But yes; I can hardly believe it myself.”
“We found Anakin’s first – by chance, and then we made it our mission to find one just as special for you,” Lune explains.
Ferus feels moved at the efforts put in. “I love it. Thank you so much for thinking of us.”
“I didn’t bring you anything,” Trever quips with a cocky smirk as he joins the group.
“You gave me the greatest gift of all,” Ferus replies. “Privacy.” He ruffles Trever’s blue hair.
*
And there wouldn’t be much privacy in the coming rotations. With Ferus having made the decision to accompany Anakin and Obi-Wan on their return to Tatooine, the trio make the younger generation a priority for the remainder of their stay.
Backyard camping continues – additional tents added in the mix. Anakin and Ferus have had plenty of company for the therapeutic trail walks they’d instated. And lightsaber drills are now equipped with an audience – an interactive audience, as the eldest brother is pridefully allowed to try a few katas himself.
Three rotations have passed like this – putting Anakin’s time on Belazura at just over a week, and Ferus knows he hasn’t had a single bacta soak since he’s arrived. So, he ushers him out of bed just as the sun is starting to rise, citing it would be best to get it done before the others awake, knowing Anakin will always hold reservations about missing out.
This gives Obi-Wan and Ferus some intimate, quiet time aboard their ship as they wait for Anakin to emerge from the bath. The pair are perched on separate bends of the circular bench, ankles intertwined – providing Ferus with one of his new favorite visuals of Obi-Wan sipping his morning tea as he checks the latest holonews reports.
Obi-Wan can feel Ferus’ intense stare. “What?” He takes a sip, arbitrarily hiding behind his tea cup.
“Nothing,” Ferus grins. “Just admiring the view.”
Obi-Wan reaches over and pinches his cheek. “Thank you for getting Anakin to do this,” he comments appreciatively. “It’s good for him. I can always tell he feels better afterwards. It soothes him.”
Ferus smiles. “Yeah, of course.”
“Soon enough, we’ll get him back on a regular schedule. . . when we return home.” Obi-Wan sighs.
Ferus senses the change in mood. “When did you want to head out?” he asks carefully.
“‘Want,’” Obi-Wan repeats the word with emphasis. “I think we need to head out soon. It’s time; the boys have already been absent from school twice now, and the longer we stay, the more they’ll miss. I haven’t told Lune, or conversed with Astri, but I think this will be our last full rotation.” He sees Ferus nod without an expression. “Does that work for you?”
“Whatever works for you.” Ferus scoots closer in support; he knows it won’t be easy for Obi-Wan to leave Lune. The averted gray-blue eyes meet his own. . . the sorrow dissipating for the moment.
“What?” Obi-Wan grills with a grin.
“What?” Ferus chuckles.
“I see that look in your eye. You’re doing the Ferus thing; you’re planning – calculating.”
Ferus blushes at being caught. “I might be.”
“Ah, I thought so,” Obi-Wan intones. “And what tasks are you looking to accomplish?”
“Well, I have a request.”
Obi-Wan smiles. “Very well, What d—”
“Come to Bellassa with me,” Ferus blurts.
Obi-Wan cocks his head. “When?”
“Now– or tomorrow, when we leave.”
“You no longer plan to join us on Tatooine?” Obi-Wan can’t mask his disappointment.
“No, I do!” Ferus defends. “I was just thinking we could go there first, only for a few days. . . ease back to Tatooine.”
Obi-Wan ponders.
“I know what you’re thinking; Luke will be fine for a couple more rotations. We can check in with Beru to make sure everything is good over that way.”
Now, Obi-Wan hums in contemplation. . . but he has no plans to deny this request.
“Please. I want you and Anakin to see my home. . . Please.”
“Are you trying to charm me the way Anakin does with the presence of that please?”
“Is it working?”
Obi-Wan pauses, stroking his beard, and then, “I suppose it’s time I start giving you whatever you like as well.”
Ferus grins triumphantly.
“Bellassa it is, if Anakin agrees, of course; though, I don’t think he’ll have any objections,” Obi-Wan beams.
And Ferus kisses him.
*
The following morning, smiles aren’t as plentiful as they had been. It’s quieter than usual, perhaps a little somber, but not any less joyful.
Obi-Wan had not expected to arrive here and find himself a father; departure will undoubtedly be difficult, but there is solace in knowing the goodbye isn’t for good. He will return. . . Somehow.
Ferus hadn’t been wrong that Obi-Wan’s first thoughts at the proposal of Bellassa were of Luke. Lately, he’s been trying to project what it might look like to split his time between Tatooine and Belazura. What sort of schedule would be best?
Frequent, short leaves would be safer for Luke – Obi-Wan would never be away for very long should trouble arise. But excessive travel is always risky; when Ferus had sent his Life Day package, he had also sent a set of false ID docs he’d created for Anakin and him. It allowed them passage into other worlds with less worry, but they were still meant more for emergency or occasional use. But extended visits with Lune would mean extended separations. . . Obi-Wan is disheartened at the thought.
For now, in these last precious moments, Obi-Wan wants to be as close to his son as possible, and it is evident Lune feels the same.
The duo sit together on Obi-Wan’s preferred chaise lounge while Anakin and Ferus take care of flight preparations and packing.
In passing, Anakin stops to observe his Master and Lune at a distance. The child’s arms are clutched tightly around his father, his head tucked under his chin. Obi-Wan’s large hand shields the side of his son’s face, protectively. . . lovingly. They look peaceful, but upon further scrutiny, Anakin notices how prominent the crinkles around Obi-Wan’s eyes appear; his lids are clamped shut – strained, lacking the serenity the rest of his body exhibits.
Anakin remembers how his own eyes had been squeezed intensely tight that same way when he’d shared one last hug with his mother before he’d left with Qui-Gon; he hadn’t wanted to leave her. . . and look what had happened as a result. Anakin makes a silent vow that he will do whatever it takes to make sure Lune will always have his dad in his life, then, he quietly continues on as to not disturb the pair.
Anakin moves to the backyard, boards the ship, and stows the last bit of luggage. Now he looks for Ferus and finds him in the captain’s chair, inputting the coordinates for Bellassa.
Anakin rests his chin over Ferus’ shoulder. “I hope you hadn’t planned on piloting,” he taunts.
Ferus laughs. “No, I know better than that.”
Anakin throws himself down in the co-pilot’s seat. “I’ve got all the luggage loaded and secured.”
Ferus looks up from the control panel in urgency. “I was going to help you with that,” he fusses.
Anakin waves a hand. “It wasn’t much. I can do some things,” he reminds with a smile.
Ferus smiles back. “I know.” With one hand, he resumes plucking on the keypad, placing the other upon Anakin’s thigh.
“I’m worried about Obi-Wan,” Anakin confesses.
Ferus nods, straight-faced.
“Did you see them?” Anakin asks of his Master and Lune.
Ferus’ lips involuntarily curl. “I did. Adorable.”
“They are.” Anakin sighs.
“He’ll be all right,” Ferus promises. “And we’ll come back soon.”
“Will we? You and Obi-Wan are always saying we have to limit flights to avoid the Empire catching wind.”
“We’ll find a way.” Ferus rotates in his seat and takes Anakin’s hands. “I promise. We’ll make sure they’re never apart for long.”
Light returns to Anakin’s eyes, pleased Ferus has sworn his same oath. “I’m gonna miss him, too. And Trever. . . Astri, Clive. This has been. . . This surpasses the trip Obi-Wan and I took here, and apart from days with my mom, this has been the best nine rotations of my life.”
“I’m so glad to hear that – mine, too. . . but it’s not over yet. ” Ferus strokes Anakin’s cheek affectionately. “And I really think this stop on Bellassa will be better for Obi-Wan, rather than going straight to Tatooine, so don’t worry.”
“I think so, too. . . Thank you.”
“It’s not like I don’t benefit,” Ferus chuckles. “I’m thrilled to take you there; I once had a dream we were on Bellassa together.”
Anakin shows his teeth. “What kind of dream?”
“A nice dream. You and me, sitting in the grass, your head resting on my shoulder and my arm around your neck.”
“When was this?” Anakin further fishes.
“When did I have the dream?” Ferus sees Anakin’s nonverbal confirmation that this is the correct question. He sucks in his lips, and guiltily admits, “It was when you were in surgery, actually.”
The grin is monumental now. “Even back then, you were dreaming about me,” Anakin gloats.
“I was. And in the dream, you were wearing this very pullover you love so much.” Ferus tugs the soft, dark red sleeve.
Anakin’s brows knit. “But that was before you bought it for me.”
“It was. Imagine my surprise when I found it at the market.”
“Destiny,” Anakin states in awe. “That’s really weird actually.”
Ferus shrugs. “Not sure what the Force was trying to tell me. I nodded off while I was waiting, and there you were.”
“Maybe we need to plan another picnic – sit together in the Bellassan grasses like you had foreseen.”
Ferus kisses him. “You can count on it.”
*
After tearful goodbyes, Anakin is hesitant to take the pilot’s seat as he’d first declared he would. He is eager for the jump to hyperspace, and the moment he can get off the controls and over to Obi-Wan.
His Master is in the co-pilot’s chair, Ferus standing behind him – an arm coming around him, their hands joined over Obi-Wan’s heart. Ferus’ free hand soothingly cards through thick, strawberry strands. Obi-Wan leans into the touch.
Anakin watches them out of the corner of his eye, grateful for the comfort Ferus is providing while he is busy steering the ship. Ferus folds forward every minute or so, and either kisses the top of Obi-Wan’s head or his temple. Anakin doesn’t hear any sounds of distress, but he keeps seeing Obi-Wan dab at his eyes.
In the instant that they are engulfed by the stars of space, Anakin lets the autopilot do its job and moves to climb into his Master’s lap. Now, the sniffles start, and Anakin surrounds him.
“I’m okay, love,” Obi-Wan promises stuffily as he grips Anakin in return. “I’m feeling. . .” he takes in a breath. “I’m feeling thankful. . . and just a bit emotional at the blessings life has given me.” It is a greater struggle to get out the next words, “I just wish communications weren’t such a challenge these days.”
Ferus nuzzles him. “We’ll do all we can to ensure you see him as often as possible. Even if Anakin and I sometimes stay on Tatooine while you go for a visit.”
“And maybe Lune can come stay with us when he has more vacations from school,” Anakin suggests. “He’d probably like to see what sort of stuff he can dig up in the desert sands,” he points out good-humored.
Obi-Wan chuckles. “Very true.”
“And I bet Luke would love to have another youngling around to play with!” Anakin sparks. “He’s still too little to do big kid stuff, but Lune could show him.”
Obi-Wan feels chills at the thought of Anakin’s and his sons together.
“Your son and my step-nephew. . . That’s sort of like cousins or something, right?” Anakin laughs.
“Or something,” Ferus squeezes the back of Anakin’s neck, then kisses Obi-Wan’s hair again.
“You’re going to be a great father, Obi-Wan,” Anakin praises.
“That’s sweet, baby. Thank you.” . . . I’m sure you would be, too, Obi-Wan doesn’t say.
*
It is already nightfall on Bellassa when they enter the atmosphere. A fatigued Anakin maneuvers the ship over Ussa at Ferus’ direction.
Ferus doesn’t have the land his friend, Clive has. Their cruiser had looked a small lawn ornament docked on his exterior property, whereas Ferus’ modest backyard would hardly contain the craft at all. So, they hide the ex-imperial vehicle on the outskirts of the Cloud Lake district. . . best not to draw too much attention anyway.
With the intent to return in the morning, the trio gather just what materials they will need for the night, and start the trek to Ferus’ residence on foot.
On the silent, low-lit streets, Ferus feels cautious. Dona had promised to check on the house and report back anything suspicious, and Ferus doesn’t have reason to believe anyone has come looking for him since he’s been gone; his adopted city isn’t the Imperial hotspot it had been months prior, but Anakin’s presence makes him more guarded. . . Anakin’s presence also makes him more excited. . .
Ferus’ return to Bellassa had not been associated with positive feelings for such a long time. He is amped to share this with Obi-Wan and Anakin; he catches himself having picked up speed. Anakin has gotten more accustomed to brisker-paced walks, but Ferus eases his steps, flashes Obi-Wan a smile, and puts his hand on Anakin’s shoulder to slow him as well.
Even with the exercise, and wrapped in his ‘Ferus sweater,’ Obi-Wan’s cloak layered on top, Anakin still finds himself a bit chilly in the nighttime air.
“Almost there,” Ferus coaches, rubbing his back for warmth.
Anakin nods. He had sensed they were close; he’d been trying to anticipate which dwelling belonged to Ferus, and he’s just spotted one that’s alerted his senses. “It’s that one.” He points ahead.
Ferus smiles. “It is.”
“This is charming,” Obi-Wan comments as they move towards the entry.
“Thanks,” Ferus beams. “The grand tour will have to wait until morning; I’m mindful in keeping the lights dim after dark – just in case. . . you know, it’s supposed to be abandoned.”
They move inside where the already-sparse rays of the moon fade away.
“The neighbors know I’m here, but they turn the other cheek,” Ferus continues his explanation as he takes the pack off his back and deposits it on the floor just inside the door.
“That’s community,” Obi-Wan notes. “I’m glad you have that here; residents looking out for one another like we did at the Temple.”
“I’m very fortunate,” Ferus agrees. “We can stay right here tonight.” He realizes his gesture can’t be seen, so he narrates, “This is the living room. I’ll get a fire going, and it’ll be the warmest spot in the house for now. I’ve got plenty of blankets to pad the floor.” He directs Obi-Wan and Anakin to the storage cubby where they can pull linens as he gets to work on the fire.
As the flames gives soft illumination to the room, Anakin further studies his surroundings. Even though the temperature is cold, he finds himself suddenly feeling warm. . . cozy, because here he stands on the foundation of a real home. He spins around the shadowy den, observing the quaint curtains and cushy couch. The sensors on the heels of his mechanical feet aberrantly broaden beyond his boots as they detect the plush rug below. Anakin can hardly wait for the full length of his body to sink into it when they soon lie in front of the cobblestone hearth of the fireplace.
Anakin had been vaguely aware that Obi-Wan and Ferus were in conversation; he had unintentionally tuned them out, but now, they are silent, and Anakin feels them staring at him in expectation. So, he provides an explanation in the simplest of terms, “I love it here.” The words are direct and full of glee.
“Good.” Ferus moves into his space. “I want you to feel at home here.”
“I already do,” Anakin professes.
Ferus holds him by the waist. “Good,” he repeats softly. “I wish you could’ve seen it before. I had to throw out so many things after the Empire ransacked the place. They broke furniture and damaged our valuables.” Ferus feels a lump in his throat at the use of the word ‘our.’ He quickly resets, “But it’s just stuff. It’s just a house.” He’s not sure that’s a true reflection of his feelings when he says it aloud.
“That’s the Jedi talking.” Obi-Wan steps closer. “But I certainly took pride in my little space at the Temple, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Even our cave on Tatooine has become quite sentimental to me.”
“Our cave is a dump in comparison to this,” Anakin counters automatically. “The dorms are dumps!”
Obi-Wan and Ferus laugh. “You haven’t even seen the whole thing; you’re delirious,” Ferus accuses jokingly, then more seriously says, “It’s past your bedtime.”
The reminder prompts an unsolicited yawn from Anakin, but he’d been looking forward to lying down anyhow.
Ferus chortles. “Well, if you need the facilities first, the refresher is right through here.” He migrates the short distance towards the only hall and extends his arm to the nearest door. “And I do have some staples in the kitchen if you’re hungry or thirsty.” He gestures to the open, adjacent space across the way.
“My favorite host,” Obi-Wan croons. “Thank you, my dear.”
Before Ferus can say, ‘you’re welcome,’ Anakin has already kicked off his boots and is claiming the middle spot on the freshly-made floor pallet. He burrows under the blankets and sinks his head into a fluffy pillow.
Obi-Wan and Ferus exchange adoring glances.
Anakin’s eyes are already closed, but he knows it’s Obi-Wan who is settling to his left, just as he does at home, leaving Ferus the place to his right.
Curling up against his Master, Ferus secure at his back, amber fire warm on his face, Anakin is thinking he’ll want to stay here for more than just a few rotations.
*
It had been a wonderfully peaceful night, but the silence feels eerie at morning meal without the company of so many others.
Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ferus are chatting quietly, making plans for the day ahead. That promised tour of the rest of Ferus’ home. A scenic walk around the city. A visit with Dona. . . which will allow for introductions with Ferus’ friends, Wil and Amie, who are currently on-world as well. Obi-Wan having already met the prestigious members of the Eleven, Ferus is anxious for Anakin to get to know them as well.
Ferus had been shifting his fond gaze back and forth between his two companions, but his attention is now solely on Anakin who has just let out a series of coughs – not the same mild, dry coughs heard in recent days, but the whooping, short-of-breath type coughing Anakin had exhibited post op.
“Hey, you okay?” Ferus places his palm over Anakin’s hand; he’d just abandoned his fork in exchange of seemingly bracing himself on the tabletop for support.
Anakin nods, working to suppress another bout of coughing.
“Here.” Ferus raises his glass of bantha milk, but Anakin swiftly and wordlessly shakes his head.
Obi-Wan is also watching closely as Anakin now expels the startling sounds of wheezing. There is no mistaking the distress on his face. “Baby? What’s wrong?” He rises just as Anakin lurches forward.
A cold, dreadful feeling of fear hits Ferus like a freighter. “Anakin?! Anakin!!” He sees Anakin grasps his chest and nearly tumble out of his seat before Ferus catches him and eases him to the ground.
“Anakin!” Obi-Wan drops to the floor beside him.
Anakin’s eyes are cold, unfocused and rolled back. His skin is clammy, beaded with sweat, and his recently returned bronzed complexion is fading to blue. His mouth is open as though words might be spoken, but all that can be heard are short, sporadic choked sounds that tell of his struggle to breathe. But Anakin is breathing, as evidenced by the disturbingly quick rate at which his chest pulses up and down, while his limp body quakes.
Anakin isn’t conscious of any of these troubling external ailments. He is only aware of what he feels within, and that is an uncomfortable burning beneath his ribcage; it feels tight – stuffed, as if all the air is trapped there and cannot circulate beyond his shoulders. He tries to speak, but finds he can’t. He can vaguely sense that Ferus is near. He believes himself to be reaching for him, but doesn’t know if he actually is. He thinks Ferus is shouting, but can’t make out what he’s saying. His head feels fuzzy as his stubborn eyes fight to search for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan can help him; Obi-Wan can make this better. “. . . bee. . .” Anakin manages with a rasp.
“Hold on, Anakin! Hold on! We’re going to get you help; Obi-Wan’s calling for help,” Ferus explains in terror. “You’ll be okay. Stay with me, all right?” Ferus is left helpless; he wants to scream. He can’t watch another man he loves die. Anakin can’t die. He can’t! Because. . . he loves him? He loves him! “Anakin,” Ferus croaks. “Can you hear me, babydoll? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.” The hand in his has been continually shaking, but Ferus feels no pressure. Frightful tears stream down his face. “No,” he wails. “No, please, Anakin!” Ferus takes in a breath – he feels his own throat closing up. He’s never been good at sitting idle, but this might be the most desperate he’s ever felt for a plan to be put into motion. Unfortunately, it isn’t clear if Anakin is choking on his breakfast, or if there is an operational issue with his artificial lungs, and it’s unknown if the Heimlich or CPR are safe to perform on a lung replacement patient.
“Medical transport on the way. And Dona is coming with Amie as a backup,” Obi-Wan informs hurriedly as he puts away his comm device and kneels over Anakin with Ferus. “Anakin, sweetheart?” he tries.
“He can’t hear you,” Ferus sobs. “Or he can’t respond.”
Obi-Wan hovers the back of his hand over Anakin’s nose and mouth.
“There’s airflow,” Ferus sniffles. He’d tried the same moments ago. “I can feel it, but it’s minimal.”
Obi-Wan nods. He’s trying not to panic, but doesn’t know how much longer he can hold it together. “How much medical training does Amie have?”
“She. . . I don’t know that she’d know what to do in this situation,” Ferus weeps.
Obi-Wan hopes the medics will arrive quickly. There’s no time to waste. “Anakin? Anakin, darling, please. Can you hear me?”
Somehow, Obi-Wan’s failed attempts make Ferus further fret. If Obi-Wan can’t reach Anakin, no one can. “Obi-Wan,” Ferus bawls aimlessly.
Obi-Wan briefly looks upon the tear-stricken face. He clutches an arm around Ferus as both men lean into each other and over their beloved boy. Obi-Wan believes he’s just seen Anakin’s eyes focus on his own momentarily. If Anakin can hear them, Ferus’ state of frenzy won’t help him. Though he is just as terrified as Ferus, Obi-Wan knows he’s got to maintain composure– for both Anakin’s and Ferus’ sake.
Obi-Wan inhales restoratively. He runs a hand over Anakin’s head and strokes his cold cheek. “I’m right here, love. I’m right here with you.” He hears Ferus’ crying subside some. “Hold on for me. You’re going to be okay,” he coos. “Ferus and I are right here with you, and we’re going to take you to someone who can help you.” Obi-Wan turns to Ferus. “We’ll be able to admit him with your false ID docs, right?” he probes calmly.
“I – Yes. For sure.” Ferus is glad Obi-Wan is keeping a level head. “I’m sorry. I—” he hiccups.
“It’s all right,” Obi-Wan absolves. “I know you’re scared. How far is the facility from here?”
“Not far,” Ferus whimpers. He loses his battle with the tears again as he grips Anakin’s hand. “Please be all right, baby. Please just hold on.”
Obi-Wan continues petting Anakin’s hair, periodically placing a warm hand on his pale face. “Oh, Anakin,” he says scoldingly – playfully. “You’re scaring Ferus,” he tsks. “Shame on you, you naughty boy. You haven’t even been a guest in his home for one rotation, and you’re already causing trouble.” He forces a smile and hopes Anakin can register it all. He notices the trembling hands have steadied a bit, but for all he knows, this could be a negative response; less movement could mean. . . Well, he doesn’t want Anakin to go still. Tears spill from his eyes just as Ferus takes the reins. . .
“You scared me.” Ferus bravely attempts Obi-Wan’s approach. Still huddled over Anakin, he returns Obi-Wan’s one-armed embrace. He lets the profiles of their faces gently come together. “No more games,” he warns with a snivel. “We’ve got a big day planned, so you better stop this, okay? Stop this, and we’ll go for our walk.” Ferus’ voice cracks. “I’ll take you around the lake, and through the meadow where we can stop for a rest and sit in the grass, just like. . . just like. . .” Ferus’ relief is two-fold when the humming sound of a repulsorcraft is heard outside. “That’s not Dona’s speeder; it’s got to be the medcenter transport.”
“Perfect. Very good.” Obi-Wan shuffles to rise. “We’ll be okay,” he murmurs automatically. “You ready to go for a ride, sweetheart?”
Anakin can see undefined silhouettes of the men he loves. He detects the tone of their voices, even though he can’t make out the words. How he longs to feel their touch. He wants to climb in Obi-Wan’s lap, and he wants to bury his face in the crook of Ferus’ neck. He remembers what it was like when he’d first awoken in this new life, in this broken form; he’d wanted to be held and hold in return, but he’d had no control over his movements – no way to physically move.
Not for the first, second, or even third or fourth time, Anakin feels betrayed by his body – frustrated, but more so broken-hearted. Why was this happening? Why was something that was so simple for every other sentient somehow so complex for him? Why was he being stripped of this basic form of contact? Why did it have to be him? He’d never taken it for granted. The sentiment of physical affection had never been wasted on him; he’d always valued and appreciated it. It was his preferred method of communication over all the rest. Anakin Skywalker needed to show his love. . .
A life void of Ferus or Obi-Wan is a life Anakin knows he couldn’t bear. And if he is doomed to live out the remainder of his days in this paralyzed state, always within reach of his mates, but never able to feel the touch that he so craves. . . not to bestow it, or even request it. . . then Anakin isn’t sure he wants to live at all.
*
The trip to the Moonstone Medcenter clocks at less than eight minutes, but the torturous ride had felt quadruple the length.
Anakin is strapped to a gurney, fitted with an oxygen mask, but the blue in his tone persists, and he remains unresponsive.
Obi-Wan hardly breathes himself, but he refuses to crumble. He watches in shock, his face as pale as Anakin’s, as he grips a weeping Ferus. Neither are allowed to touch Anakin, bound to the stiff seat they’d squeezed into together; they had been fortunate they hadn’t had to abide by the one passenger rule – Ferus had known the vehicle operator.
When they arrive in the emergency ward, Anakin is immediately admitted under his false name, and promptly taken away; Obi-Wan and Ferus are not permitted to accompany him this time.
The wait is agonizing.
Obi-Wan hasn’t stopped pacing. Ferus is hunched over with his face between his knees and fingers laced on the back of his head. Obi-Wan takes a moment to rub his shoulder on one of his return laps.
Ferus looks up at him with a wet, wrecked face. “Can you feel him at all?” he blubbers.
“No,” Obi-Wan informs gravely. “But it’s likely because he is sedated for whatever they are trying to do.”
“They’d tell us if he was back in surgery, right?”
“I do believe.”
Ferus starts sobbing again, and Obi-Wan sits down beside him and pulls him in his arms. “I can’t lose him, too,” Ferus cries.
“You won’t.” Obi-Wan can barely say the words, because he isn’t sure he believes them himself. What had happened? Anakin had been doing so well. The surgery had seemingly been a complete success. . . But the fact of the matter remains: there is always a risk for complications with artificial organs. . . and Anakin only had those organs because of the way he’d left him – abandoned him on Mustafar. If they lost Anakin, and if Ferus learned the truth. . . Well, he’d surely lose him, too.
Notes:
Well, some of you might take pleasure in knowing that I am currently recovering from the flu 😷 Karma got me for torturing these poor babies 😈😂 Everything will be okay 🫂 You know I will always make up for the torment in big ways ❤️
Fun fact for this chapter:
Our last time jump was six weeks past Life Day. . . Over here, in my neck of the woods, six weeks past the holidays puts us in the height of carnival season - which is now! Mardi Gras translates to Fat Tuesday, but was once called Shrove Tuesday. Taungsday is a documented day of the week in a GFFA. Does is translate to Tuesday? Idk, but it starts with a T, so here we are. . . Happy Shrove Taungsday - Star Wars Mardi Gras 😆 I actually hadn’t planned this at all, but it fit with why Trever and Lune have all this time to spend with their houseguests. . . And this family did exactly what we do over here when we get time off for Mardi Gras – we let the tourists have it, and become tourists ourselves lol. (Go to Disney World Mardi Gras week. It’s hilarious. Everyone is wearing purple, green, and gold.)The shells. I saved those images to my computer almost a year ago when I was working on this chapter. Why? Well, because when you are procrastinating writing, you do intense google image searches for things that are hardly relevant to your story for no good reason lol. See, sometimes I do have a hard time tormenting Anakin; the shell pictures are proof of the time spent avoiding working on the angst that was coming.
I love you! I promise! And I love these boys 💕 Swear it! Gotta keep things interesting. . .
Thank you for reading 💗
Chapter 24
Notes:
Content Warning! 🍆🔥🌶️ Another spicy one! More spicy than the last!!
(so, I guess, spoiler alert, you’re about to find out that Anakin is going to be fine lol. . . but it's me who wrote this, so probably no surprise there 😘)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It only takes about forty minutes for a doctor to surface in the waiting area looking for the family of ‘Akkani Nylidam.’ Obi-Wan and Ferus leap to their feet, and are both relieved to be greeted with a smile.
The doctor first asks if they know of what has caused fresh bruising on Anakin’s chest. The men are puzzled as to what he’s referring to, and shocked to learn that the impact – whether Anakin struck something or something struck him, was great enough to cause a rib contusion. . . and at just the right, or wrong, angle to prompt a small valve in his lungs to slip out of place and obstruct his breathing.
Anakin has already undergone an emergency procedure involving the oral insertion of a microscopic observation droid. A viewscreen allowed the doctor to advise and operate the droid in getting the valve back into position.
Anakin was put under for the procedure, and has yet to awaken from it, but Ferus and Obi-Wan are finally admitted to his room, bringing forth tears of relief at seeing him sleeping peacefully, breathing easily, and his skin back to warmer tones.
Anakin will be monitored, and likely discharged later in the afternoon, so Ferus and Obi-Wan sit. And wait. They won’t be leaving the facility without their beloved.
Sitting at his bedside, Ferus is taken back to his early days with Anakin. But now, he doesn’t hesitate to gently caress his face or press his lips to his temple; he and Obi-Wan alternate carrying out these very important tasks as they wait for him to stir. Mostly, they are quiet, coexisting without the need for conversation; however, in the quiet, Ferus is silently obsessing over the next steps. . .
For the moment, Ferus takes comfort in knowing that Anakin is in the best of hands; he’d known the transport driver, and he knows some of the nurses – the doctor knows who he is and of what he’s done for their world. As a result, Anakin’s records will be kept sealed, and there will be no financial obligation for his medcenter stay.
But this feeling of security won’t last, and Ferus can’t hold his tongue any longer.
“Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan hums as he smooths Anakin’s hair for the hundredth time, then takes a single seat across from Ferus.
“I’ve been thinking, and you. . . you and Anakin can’t go home,” Ferus declares. “What if we had gone to Tatooine instead of Bellassa and this had happened there? We would’ve been in the middle of nowhere; he could’ve died.”
Obi-Wan can’t debate it. He’d been thinking the same, thanking the Force that Ferus had requested this detour. . . “I agree.” And that’s all Obi-Wan knows.
Each time Obi-Wan considers taking Anakin to a more populated city, his thoughts go to Luke. And it’s not the only obstacle he and Anakin would face in leaving Tatooine. Where would they go? There isn’t any place in a metropolitan area that wouldn’t charge for rent. And the small amount of credits he and Anakin make combined could not sustain a household. But it appears Ferus has already sorted this out. . .
“I want you to stay here with me,” Ferus affirms. “Please.”
Obi-Wan’s mouth turns down in a heartfelt pout. “That’s very generous, but I don’t know how long we’d have to impose—”
“It’s not an imposition, and. . . permanently,” Ferus corrects. “You’ll stay with me permanently; you don’t have to find another place.”
“That’s so sweet, my darling, but we can’t put you out that way.”
“Putting me out would be taking Anakin away and having me wonder all the time if he’s all right, and how fast a medic can get to him.” Ferus swallows hard. “I want you both with me.”
“And we want to be with you, but to live together. . . Why don’t you sleep on it? There’s time to decide while Anakin is recuperating.”
“What’s to decide?”
Obi-Wan starts carefully, “Fess,” It's the first time he’s used Anakin’s precious, little nickname. “I want you to really think about what you’re offering. . . for us to come into your home. . . a home that isn’t only yours. Think about how you would feel in sharing a space with us that you once shared with another.”
Ferus lowers his head.
“Your wounds are still so fresh, love. I don’t want you to do anything you may not be ready for.”
“I need to make sure he’s all right,” Ferus mutters.
“I know this scared the seven Sith hells out of you – it scared me, too, but you might be making a rash choice. Let’s get Anakin back on his feet – find out exactly how he bruised that rib, and then we’ll see where we are, okay?”
Ferus nods weakly.
“It sounds like whatever the cause, it was preventative.”
“I still don’t want. . . You won’t go back to Tatooine at the end of the week like you planned, right?”
“No. We’ll stay. Okay? We’ll be here for you, and you’ll be here for Anakin.” Obi-Wan sees Ferus finally raise his eyes, and he looks so young – so tired – so worn. “Come here, my sweet.” Obi-Wan shifts in his seat and pats his own lap.
Ferus snorts lightly as he awkwardly takes Anakin’s special spot. A head taller than Obi-Wan, he squinches himself smaller and curls into his hold. . . Now, he can understand why Anakin likes it here; it feels safe.
Ferus peers over at Anakin as Obi-Wan’s hand soothingly glides up and down his back. “You think he’d be jealous if he saw us sitting this way?”
Obi-Wan chuckles. “No, I think he’d rather enjoy it. He’d probably sit on top of you – as if he’s a little lap dog; he forgets he’s not the weight of a nine-year-old any longer.”
Ferus snickers, then laments, “I really thought we were going to lose him.”
“I know, darling. I did, too.”
“Thanks for keeping your shit together when I was falling apart.”
Obi-Wan lets out a humorous sigh. “You had every right to fall apart, but you pulled yourself together in the end, and I believe it helped him.”
Ferus rises and leans over the patient bed. He kisses the side of Anakin’s nose and runs his fingers through his hair. “Wake up soon, please,” he wills. “I miss you.”
*
When Anakin awakes within the hour, Obi-Wan and Ferus can hardly contain all their questions, but they first take a moment to love on him and make sure he’s feeling as well as he can be.
Anakin blows out a breath, before he begins his explanation, “This is so embarrassing.”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan scolds. “What happened? What were you hiding?”
“I wasn’t trying to hide anything; I didn’t know I had hit it hard enough to bruise a karking rib!”
“Hit it hard enough?? What happened?” Ferus echoes panicked.
“It wasn’t a big deal. . . or I didn’t know how big of a deal it was. . . I got up in the middle of the night, and I lost my balance. I fell, but I tried to stop myself with my hands, only I could feel the upper part of my right arm was asleep, and I guess that interferes with the mechanism somehow, because it folded at the joint when I went down, and all the weight of my chest landed on it; I hit the metal portion of my arm – hard.” Anakin waits for a response.
Ferus sighs. A simple misstep arose to this nightmare.
“I really didn’t think anything was wrong. I mean, it hurt – I was expecting a flesh wound, but I didn’t think about how it probably whacked the equipment inside. . . because. . .” Anakin sniffles. “Sometimes I forget what’s going on in there.” Now a single tear streaks over his cheek. “It doesn’t happen often, because there are so many constant reminders, but sometimes. . . Sometimes I forget I’m only half a man,” Anakin chokes out. “Because the two of you make me feel whole.”
Obi-Wan’s heart shatters. He wastes no time in dragging Anakin to the edge of the bed and into his mighty embrace. Anakin’s weeping is muffled in his chest. “Listen to me, you have a whole heart; that is all you need to be a whole man, all right?” Obi-Wan provides placating sounds and fiercely strokes his neck and back.
“I was so scared,” Anakin unloads tearfully. “I didn’t know what was wrong, and I didn’t know if I would ever get better. I knew you were there, but I knew there was nothing I could do, and I just wanted to. . . to. . .”
“No.” Obi-Wan is suddenly bawling. “Don’t you dare; don’t you ever leave me, my darling. Never leave me, please,” he implores whimpering.
Ferus can’t help but cry along with them. As scary as this had been for him and Obi-Wan, he can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for Anakin. And Obi-Wan had been so strong – his rock. Now all the emotion he’d withheld pours out. He hears frantic whispers of his love for Anakin, and Ferus knows, without a doubt, he loves him, too.
“Fess,” Anakin calls brokenly, needing both men close.
“I’m right here,” Ferus lulls as he puts an arm around each of them and the three squeeze each other tight.
*
Anakin is expected to be released with instructions for light duty – to which he is no stranger. There isn’t much that can be done for the bruised rib, other than avoiding discomfort as it heals over the course of a week or so.
So, Ferus maps out a blueprint of the week to come; his nurturing instincts had kicked into high gear sometime in the first thirty seconds of learning Anakin would pull through.
Ferus wants Anakin to return to a functional, well-stocked, and warm home. He makes arrangements with Dona, Wil, and Amie to assist in making his expectation a reality. Ferus is truly thankful for his friends.
Dona volunteers to do the shopping, while Wil and Amie make a ride to Ferus’ docked ship to haul the remainder of their belongings to the house – bacta tube included.
And since it is almost dusk when they get official word on the discharge, Ferus’ faithful friends orchestrate lighting the fireplace at the proper time to establish an ideal temperature for the homecoming.
And Anakin smiles when he enters the toasty, picturesque living space, and moves to dive straight for the floor pallet that had been left there from the night before.
Ferus interjects. Though it had not been a doctor order, he attempts to get Anakin into the bacta bath, knowing it is sure to aid in recovery. But Anakin pouts and whines, and begs for immediate sleep and cuddles, promising to get in the tube first thing in the morning, as per usual.
Naturally, Ferus can’t deny him. Nor does he want to.
And when they all once again settle in front of the fire for the night, Obi-Wan can’t fathom his good fortune.
*
Two rotations pass. Two rotations on a strict schedule of bacta soaks and careful therapy, close watch and around the clock assistance. . . And Anakin LOVES it.
Since his accident, there are times when Anakin feels an invalid, but irrefutably, he adores being fussed over. He likes being Obi-Wan’s dear one, and he likes Ferus being his protector. So, he relishes in all the extra attention, even though the pain in his rib has mostly subsided – or at least it’s a piece of cake in comparison to the other physical challenges he’s faced in recent months. Anakin lets himself bask in this special time on Bellassa. . . in the comfort of Ferus’ modern dwelling.
Anakin is quickly adjusting to the convenient accommodations of a readily available water supply and quick access to the bacta tube without having to board a ship. He’s getting spoiled for the true refresher where he can fully erase the Tatooine-type grit for a more sufficient slumber; he finds he’s not been sleeping as often lately, because he’s sleeping better through the night.
Anakin does miss Tatooine a bit; mostly, he misses his nephew, as it’s been nearly two weeks since he’s seen him, but he can’t help but imagine how nice it might be to stay here long term. . . He imagines the changing seasons, specifically, spending Life Day here, dining at a real table, opening gifts cozied on a genuine couch, warmed by a fire that is actually necessary and not just for the aesthetic.
Ferus can see how joyous Anakin has been. And he wants it to be this way – always.
Ferus knows he’s supposed to be weighing his options about a potential permanent move for Anakin and Obi-Wan, but he already knows what he wants.
And without the discussion, Obi-Wan knows what Ferus wants. He’d make the same choice in his position. He knows what it’s like to worry for Anakin – to want Anakin, to need him. Moving to Bellassa is quite obviously the best option for him. Anakin is safe here, and it’s a climate where he can more effectively improve; Obi-Wan has already noticed a difference in his therapy progression and sleep patterns since they'd had a break from the brutal temps of Tatooine.
But. . .
Obi-Wan can’t help but think about the life he’d be leaving behind. He isn’t sure he’d exactly miss the desert planet. As he’d told the boys, he does bear a certain level of attachment to the little home he and Anakin had made for themselves, but that ‘home’ had been nothing more than a cave for a longer period of time – a symbol of his pain and solitude. And Obi-Wan can easily say goodbye to that difficult part of his life, but he can’t as easily say goodbye to Luke.
He believes Owen will be pleased to hear the news – not having to worry about his Jedi interference. Owen had always said he’d thought their family would be kept safer if Obi-Wan wasn’t around, but in his year of mourning, Obi-Wan had stubbornly refused to accept the idea. Perhaps he had been selfish – wanting the blessing of being near to Anakin’s son. Perhaps the family would thrive without his burdensome, watchful eye. Bail and Breha were certainly getting along fine without him, and in retrospect, it was more probable that Leia would to be exposed to danger in her travels back and forth from Coruscant to Alderaan with her famous set of parents. . . The thought makes Obi-Wan realize this move would constitute adding another planet to the proposed visitation schedule. But he feels it’s the right move. It feels like the right thing to do.
Obi-Wan remains tight-lipped, letting Ferus be the one to initiate the conversation. . . and Ferus does. . .
“We both know he’s already imagining what it would be like to stay,” Ferus tells Obi-Wan privately on their fourth morning on Bellassa.
“I know.”
“He likes it here. He doesn’t want to leave. . . and you don’t either.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t answer directly. “I’ve noticed there are lots of help wanted signs in town. . .”
Ferus grins. “Yes. Many businesses are starting to reopen now that the Empire has eased off from their search for me and the Eleven here.”
Obi-Wan’s face turns somber. “I don’t want to think about what it’s like on the planets where they are looking.”
“I don’t think they’re looking at all. They wouldn’t have any leads, because none of us are making noise. I’m not the priority anymore. . . In truth, Anakin is probably a higher priority, and that’s more the reason to stay here; we have help here – friends. People in town know him now, the medcenter staff know him – they know he’s mine.”
“Yours?” Obi-Wan shows his teeth.
“Yes. Mine.” Ferus is smiling impossibly wide. “Part of my clan. With me. I just mean, the more Bellassans that know about ‘Akkani,’ the better protected Anakin will be. Everyone here is loyal. I’m lucky they welcomed me back after it seemed like I had betrayed them.”
“No one who knows you would ever believe that. You’ve got too good of a heart.”
Ferus smiles. “I’ve got nothing on you.”
Obi-Wan has difficultly taking the compliment. He says nothing at first, averting his eyes, then redirects the subject matter, “I was thinking how well it might work out to have someone here when you’re traveling for work; I could be here to take care of things so you wouldn’t have to worry while you’re away, and in between, we could all go to Tatooine to see Luke, and then circle back to Belazura for Lune, and perhaps someday Alderaan, too.”
“I love that you’re making these plans.”
“It’s hard not to,” Obi-Wan chuckles. “It's an exciting prospect. And it will be better for Anakin in the long run. . . Earlier, he asked me about picking up the lightsaber again. I told him we’d have to start small – possibly tomorrow, but that you had the final say so.”
“Me?”
“Yes, of course. You’re the expert on recovery. . . and now he’s as much yours as he is mine, as you’ve said. . .” With raised brows, Obi-Wan beams.
Ferus bites his bottom lip as he smiles. “I love him.”
“I know.”
“I want to tell him.”
“Take your time in doing so. He’s content. I promise.”
“When will we tell him about the move?”
“Your decision is made, then?”
“You know it is. . . And it sounds like yours is, too.”
“We’ll tell him today. On our walk?”
“Who’s going to be the one to tell him?”
“I think you should be the one to ask him.”
*
“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough for this?” Ferus queries when they are about ten minutes into their hike. Anakin has requested a longer route today; they plan to trek to Cloud Lake and back, as Anakin has not yet seen the famous body of water.
“I feel great,” Anakin replies cheerfully.
Ferus watches Anakin as he surveys his surroundings. He swears his eyes are a brighter blue here than they had been on the exotic destination planet of Belazura. Walks on Belazura seemed to be thrill-seeking for him. Here, Anakin seems more relaxed, his very presence innate.
Ferus had been trying to think of a clever way to make the moving proposal, but decides it doesn’t matter anymore. Suddenly, he feels confident in the answer he will receive. “Anakin?” he prompts.
“Hm?” Anakin acknowledges, but he is looking up at the trees.
“What do you think about you and Obi-Wan staying here with me on Bellassa?”
Anakin’s steps slow, and he gawks at Ferus in wide-eyed curiosity. “Stay?”
“Stay. Like, live here instead of on Tatooine.”
Anakin looks to his Master, who wears a subtle smile. “You’ve. . . you two have already discussed this?”
Ferus feels a punch to the gut. Did Anakin not like the idea after all?
“We have,” Obi-Wan answers on Ferus’ behalf.
“What will we do?” Anakin questions.
“We’ll live here,” Obi-Wan states plainly. “If you want to,” he adds.
“Where will we live?”
Ferus tries not to laugh. “Anakin.” He stops walking and takes him by the hands. “Would you like to move in with me?”
If there were a meter to gauge Anakin’s rising scale of joy, an alarm would be sounding for overload.
“I’d like for you and Obi-Wan to live with me at my place,” Ferus reiterates.
“I love it at your place!” Anakin informs without answering the question.
Ferus chuckles, still holding Anakin by the hands. “I’m glad.”
“Do you want to stay, Obi-Wan?” Anakin checks.
“I do. I think it would be a great plan for all of us.”
“Would we get jobs here instead?”
“I would. You may as well, if you like. Or you can accompany Ferus on his travels for work. Or both.” Obi-Wan shrugs.
“I won’t be going back to work right away,” Ferus appeases. “We’ll have some time, just the three of us, for a while longer while we get settled. And I wouldn’t be away all the time.”
“What about Luke? And Akkani?”
“We would visit them the way we intend to visit Lune,” Obi-Wan clarifies.
“So, we’ll stay here, but would we move all of our things here??” Anakin doesn’t have many things, but he is mostly thinking about the Life Day décor, enamored that his newfound fantasy can actually come to life.
“You can move as much as you want here,” Ferus offers. “Whatever you like.”
“We’ll go back to Tatooine sometime in the coming week. We can clear the cave and spend some time with Luke,” Obi-Wan assures.
Anakin clobbers Ferus in a hug.
Ferus giggles. “Is this a yes?”
“Yes,” Anakin replies muffled. “Yes, please.”
Ferus lets out a gratified breath from Anakin’s hold. “Well,” he starts gently. “It was I who asked you to move in, so you see, you don’t have to beg.”
Anakin pulls back just far enough to lock eyes with him, their noses nearly touching. He is overwhelmed. The urge to confess his love for Ferus is threatening to burst out of him, but he bites his tongue. Ferus surely knows how he feels. He won’t pressure him into saying it in return. Instead, Anakin kisses him, then asks, “Can we go home now?”
Ferus feels a rush at the words.
*
Upon returning home, Anakin, ironically being the one to cut short the walk he’d proclaimed would be a longer one, immediately wrestles Ferus to the living room pallet of blankets.
The apparent enthusiasm has Ferus cackling, as Anakin smothers him with smooches. But Ferus is conscious in not wrestling him back. “Hey, you need to be careful.” He holds Anakin steady by the shoulders. Then, his fingers graze the area where his rib is bruised. “Slow down,” he tells him, smile still large.
“Can’t,” Anakin huffs as he pushes forward in an attempt to resume kissing. “It feels much better today, anyway,” he informs winded.
“That may be, but it’s surely not healed.”
“I’m just so happy, Fess. I’m so happy.” Anakin manages a peck to his neck.
“Me too, babydoll, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Ferus conveys. Anakin pauses at the name as he tends to do. “Here. Why don’t you lie flat and let me do the hard work,” Ferus offers.
“What hard work?” Anakin grins. “What hard work are you gonna do?” he asks seductively. “OBI-WAN!” Anakin calls loudly before Ferus can answer.
“Right here, darling.” Obi-Wan is standing in the entry way watching the pair fondly.
“Come here with us please,” Anakin requests.
“I don’t want to interrupt.”
“You won’t; I want you to watch. . . so you can see what Ferus did the other night. Then, you can try it, too.”
“Oh?” Obi-Wan laughs.
Ferus does as well, Anakin having decided what that ‘hard work’ is on his own.
“You said you’d try it,” Anakin reminds his Master.
“Well, sweetheart, we really haven’t had the chance to try it, but of course, I’d like to. I’m here. I’m watching. Shall I take notes?” Obi-Wan jokes.
“How about I coach you through it?” Ferus offers. “Hands on learning.” Considering his lack of experience, he almost has to laugh at the ludicrous idea of him being a teacher to Anakin and Obi-Wan in a matter regarding sex.
But Anakin’s eyes nearly pop out of his head at the proposition, his smile grand and psyched.
“Looks like we have one vote for hands on learning,” Obi-Wan notes with a chuckle.
“That is my vote as well,” Ferus purrs.
Obi-Wan squats down beside them. He gives Anakin a soft kiss, then begins to undress him, first exposing his tender chest before his eager, inflated member. . . And Obi-Wan isn’t sure he’s ever seen it this eager. He is incredibly grateful to Ferus for his efforts that will allow Anakin to better enjoy being touched.
“You have to be naked, too,” Anakin dictates.
Obi-Wan suppresses a smile. “Yes, I’m well aware of your rules,” he replies lightheartedly. He takes another quick taste from Anakin’s lips, then removes his own tunic.
Meanwhile, Ferus assists Anakin with getting the remainder of his clothes out from under him.
“You don’t have to be naked if you don’t want to,” Anakin tells him considerably; he wants to make sure Ferus is comfortable now that Obi-Wan is there with them, too.
The look of offense on Obi-Wan’s face causes Ferus to burst into laughter.
“Oh, so the rules only apply to me?” Obi-Wan pretends to complain. “Very nice,” he remarks sarcastically, but a smile overtakes his face as Anakin giggles.
Ferus appreciates Anakin’s sensitivity, but he knows how much he likes feeling human flesh against his own; he strips out of his shirt, and despite having been instructed to lie down, Anakin pops up and immediately presses his bare body to Ferus.’ Ferus snuggles him with a low laugh, suddenly very aware of Obi-Wan, and that he is watching. . . and that he is unclothed.
It will be the first time they are all unclothed together – it’ll be the first time he and Obi-Wan are unclothed together. In the same way that he and Anakin had started out, Ferus has shared many hugs and kisses with Obi-Wan, but they had not yet had the opportunity to advance further.
Ferus is a little nervous, but the feeling is outweighed by his excitement. Anakin and Obi-Wan celebrate sex in a much different way than what he is accustomed to. He likes the idea of watching them together first. It is a gateway to his own physical relationship with Obi-Wan.
Anakin still wrapped in his embrace, Ferus returns Obi-Wan’s gaze, at first mesmerized by the gray-blue eyes, but then distracted by the glowing, fair skin, and the somewhat petite, but brawny build, dusted with the most gorgeous layer of ginger hair. He examines his impeccably rippled biceps as an arm extends out to clasp his own exposed shoulder. Ferus leans into the touch.
“Are you ready, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asks with the slightest hint of innocent impatience in his voice.
Obi-Wan and Ferus chuckle.
“What?” Anakin laughs, too, because he knows why they find his question comical. “I can’t help it; this is awesome!”
Ferus is shaking his head fondly as he gently coaxes Anakin to lie flat once again.
Anakin focuses on his face as he reclines back, communicating with his eyes as Ferus wiggles out of the lower half of his clothing. . . doing his best to withhold a colossal smile.
Surprisingly, Anakin is unbothered to learn he'll have to continue to wait, as an impromptu make-out session has broken out right over him. Though it does not involve him, Anakin fears he could come before the coveted coaching session even begins, but he isn’t complaining; he wouldn’t object to this display never ending. But his throbbing member causes him to squirm, bringing Obi-Wan’s and Ferus’ focus back to him.
“This is awesome,” Anakin declares throaty once again.
Obi-Wan grins with much adoration, just before he commences with sloppily kissing down Anakin’s torso. . . Ferus looking on. Obi-Wan passionately rubs his Padawan’s callused thighs, his legs simultaneously spreading as his prominent erection serves as a purposeful beacon to draw his Master in. Obi-Wan's lips lovingly plant to the inside of Anakin’s left thigh. “Ready?”
“Yes. . .” But Anakin need not say it; the delight on his face says it all.
Obi-Wan chuckles. “Now, how did you do this, Ferus?” he inquires professionally. He glides a very gentle hand along the outline of Anakin’s groin; he mewls in response.
“It seems you’re off to a great start,” Ferus praises as he moves tickling fingers along Anakin’s neck. “So, our objective here is to get him wet; make sure there’s a generous amount of saliva in your mouth to work with.” He observes Anakin swallowing hard at the directive. “Take him in wide, but you don’t have to take him all,” Ferus narrates. “Just get your mouth all the way around, before you close down. That’s what I did.”
With a sopping tongue, Obi-Wan gingerly licks the tip of Anakin’s member as an appetizer, then diligently devours him as Ferus had instructed.
“Perfect,” Ferus applauds. “Delicately work your tongue around; he likes that – coat him at every angle.” He hears Anakin let out a sharp, pleasure-filled cry. “You can press your tongue a little more firmly against him, but just a bit,” Ferus warns.
Obi-Wan obeys, slurping, but not sucking, and migrating to each position with the utmost care.
Ferus watches Anakin’s pretty, fluttering lashes, flushed cheeks, and parted lips. He hadn’t been able to appreciate this full, northern view when he’d been working in the southern region.
“Ohhh, Master!” Anakin suddenly hollers.
Ferus feels his face redden at that. “Close?” he checks with Anakin, while Obi-Wan has a mouthful and can’t do it for himself.
“Yes!” Anakin gasps. “Uh, huh!”
The suspense Ferus feels might be closely matched to Anakin’s own, as he waits to see if Obi-Wan intends to drink him. With a mouth still enclosing the cock, and with the way Anakin is now grunting, Ferus believes he has his answer.
Obi-Wan thoroughly licks away each helping of the sweet, delectable cum, careful not to give into the urge to suck. He lifts his head and sets his sights upon the expended, yet yearning, form. Anakin is still on his back, chest fast-pumping up and down, heavy eyes, mouth hanging open.
“Fuck me,” Anakin begs. “Obi-Wan, please! Fuck me!”
Ferus’ head turns sharp, a blaze of heat spreading from his pelvis to his pecs.
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin thrashes and whines.
Obi-Wan shushes him, laughing nervously, while concurrently eyeing Ferus for a reaction at the bold demand; he isn’t sure Ferus had been prepared for this.
“Do what he says, Obi-Wan,” Ferus gets out meekly. Now, there is confidence in his words, “Give him what he wants – like you always do,” he teases. “Just be gentle. . .” He palms Anakin’s cheek. “You know. . . his rib.”
“His rib,” Obi-Wan repeats. “He does like it rough, though,” he reveals slyly. “But I promise to be careful. . . You’re so sweet. . .” He takes Ferus by the lips, briefly, acutely slipping his semen-flavored tongue between them. Ferus sucks in earnest. Their foreheads affectionately rest together; they roll their faces to observe Anakin. . . He is still writhing, but smiling – watching. . . with the utmost attentiveness.
“This is. . . awesome,” Anakin pushes out languidly, causing his companions to laugh again.
It’s Ferus’ turn to take notes as Obi-Wan begins prepping Anakin to receive him. . . and Ferus conceives it won’t be a small task on Anakin’s part.
Anakin shrills as his Master pushes lubricated fingers into him, and Ferus isn’t sure what color his face is now – likely off the spectrum. Anakin’s intoxicating moans make him feel as if he is the one receiving the acquainted pleasure; he knows precisely what movements prompt such sounds. Ferus closes his eyes, imagining the sensation to his own form. His heartrate elevates. A gasp escapes his own lips.
“Ready, my darling?” Obi-Wan coos.
Ferus’ eyes shoot open; he doesn’t want to miss this. He hears Anakin mumble his desperate consent, and Obi-Wan is already slowly entering in. He hoists up Anakin’s rear end, and feeds himself into his lover’s body. When he’s sunk completely inside, he gracefully falls forward, parallel with his mate. Ferus watches Obi-Wan’s strong arms brace his elegant body over Anakin’s.
Ferus considers Anakin’s adorable, slight pout, pleading eyes fixed on his Master as Obi-Wan rhythmically rocks. He scans the taut, but plump derriere – the muscles of his freckled thighs tantalizingly flexed as they pump. Anakin’s hushed shrieks are a symphony, and Ferus has to resist the urge to grab his own leaking erection at the plethora of euphoric sights and sounds.
“Ferus,” Anakin murmurs. “Fess. . .”
Ferus is almost intimidated to move closer, as Obi-Wan has now quickened his pace, pounding into his Padawan as he quakes; he doesn’t want to interfere or get in the way. But when Anakin hollers again, Ferus’ instinct is to draw near, though he knows Anakin is in no way in peril. Ferus takes the durasteel hand, the cool feeling of it a mercy to his overheated physique. He kisses Anakin's fingertips and places his palm upon his flushed cheek.
In his continued study, Ferus notices a recently ascended mechanical leg seems to be fighting itself to avoid coming in contact with Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Ferus recalls Anakin’s rationale for the stockings he liked to wear over his prosthetics; they had moved swiftly into this activity, and Anakin hadn’t put them on. Ferus lowers Anakin’s hand to his side, migrates, and deftly supports the weight of the elevated calf, causing Obi-Wan to somehow thrust harder and faster.
Ferus knows Obi-Wan is on his final lap. He lets out his own glorious cry as he rides to victory. Sweaty, copper hair falls over his brow as he slows his speed, his body jerking as he deposits his seed into his spent apprentice; Anakin hasn’t come again, but it’s clear he is more than satisfied.
Obi-Wan pants, but he is smiling, Anakin sprawled out beneath him. He tenderly holds Anakin's face, as Ferus strategically works his leg around Obi-Wan and back down to the pallet.
“Thanks,” Anakin huffs.
Ferus smiles bashfully when he attracts Obi-Wan’s attention. The man holds his jaw, and Ferus kisses the thumb that grazes over his lips. Now, Obi-Wan cards through his silky, dark hair – a tranquilizer sending him soaring back, next to Anakin. Ferus somehow finds himself feeling expended, despite being the only one to not have climaxed.
Obi-Wan massages him, his magical touch further entrancing. Somewhere along the way, Anakin has gotten up, almost fighting Obi-Wan for the space as he plants kisses near his navel, heading straight for his neglected package. . .
And Ferus can’t deny that he had been hoping this might occur a second time. He throws his head back, Obi-Wan’s thick fingers trailing along his face.
He feels Anakin’s hot breath consume him, and he slightly bucks his needy hips. Anakin’s powerful tongue whirls around him, an exhilarated pressure building physically and within. As he had before, Anakin has a steadfast grip on his laden sack. He juggles the jewels in his synth-flesh palm, then releases a moist finger dangerously close to an opening.
Ferus ignores the urge to tense, and focuses on what is happening inside of Anakin’s mouth rather than his hand, but the finger prods further, not forcing entry, but knocking at the door – hitting the bell.
Ferus jolts upright.
Anakin freezes, a complete withdrawal of contact, sitting up with eyes landing upon an undeniably distressed face. His heart sinks. Anakin’s hands are involuntarily floating up in surrender. “Hey, are you okay?”
Obi-Wan is now in Ferus’ field of vision as well, a look of concern painted over his lovely features.
“Yeah.” Ferus retracts his legs and folds them as he cowers.
“Ferus, I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have—”
“No,” Ferus protests. “Everything’s fine.” He forces a smile. “It’s fine. Just. . . not now, babydoll. Not now, okay? Are you. . . ? How’s your rib? You shouldn’t have been hunched over me like that.” Ferus pretends to examine him, but he knows Anakin’s fine. . . He’s not fine.
“I’m not hurting,” Anakin insists, turning his head as Ferus readily moves behind him.
“You sure?” Ferus inspects Anakin’s back. “You’re a little red back here, actually – brush burns.”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Anakin reiterates. He glances downward and sees the evidence that Ferus is no longer in the mood. Had his worry killed his drive so easily? Or was it something else?
Ferus feels Obi-Wan staring; he knows the man is reading him like an open book.
“He’s okay,” Obi-Wan promises serenely as he cautiously places a hand to Ferus’ shoulder. “We’re okay,” he emphasizes quietly.
Ferus exhales.
“Lie down?” Obi-Wan suggests.
Anakin is the one to comply, knowing it’ll tempt Ferus to join him. . . And as hoped, it’s automatic; Ferus is now beside him, pulling Anakin into his hold, and kissing his cheek. Face buried in the crook of his neck, Anakin grips him.
Obi-Wan covers them in blankets, content to see four eyes closed. He shuffles and locates his clothing, then, starts dressing.
“You aren’t going to nap with us?” Ferus’ question is urgent and unsure.
“Lunch isn’t going to make itself,” Obi-Wan retorts charmingly. He sees Ferus’ indecision. He raises a hand. “Stay with him; he’s already out.”
Ferus half smiles. “Obi-Wan, I didn’t mean to insinuate you were being too rough. . . You weren’t. I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it.”
“I know, darling. Don’t you worry about a thing.” Obi-Wan stoops back down and pecks the corner of his mouth. “Nothing at all, okay? You did right, and you never have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” The brown eyes blink in embarrassment. “Nothing changes on our part; you can always be honest with us.” Obi-Wan is met with silence. . . but it’s an accepting and comfortable silence. “If you need to talk, we’re here. But if you aren’t able to talk, that’s okay, too.”
Ferus watches him walk away – float away, like his cares for the moment. . . Obi-Wan has that effect. Ferus allows himself to relax, burrowing into the warmth of the body he holds.
Oh, Ferus loves Anakin. . . but how he loves Obi-Wan as well.
Notes:
🙂 Thank you for reading 🫂
Chapter 25
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The afternoon is peaceful. The evening is relaxing, and the night is mostly calm.
Ferus isn’t questioned about his peculiar and contradictory reaction to Anakin’s sultry touch, and he does not offer any insight, albeit, he’d stayed up half the night trying to make the determination. . .
Why hadn’t he let Anakin pleasure him? What had stopped him? Ferus knew the answer before he’d asked himself the questions, but it wouldn’t do to discuss it.
It wouldn’t do to discuss Roan.
Roan wasn’t here. Anakin and Obi-Wan were. And thus far, they had exposed Ferus to a sexual world that he wasn’t familiar with – exciting and new. Different. But the one form of intimacy Ferus was accustomed to, the conventional closeness that he so craved, was the one form of intimacy he may never experience again. . . because Ferus wasn’t sure he could ever let anyone else touch him the way his husband once did.
It was nothing premeditated, nothing he’d anticipated, but when that foreign finger had grazed him, ever so tenderly, Ferus had known it. Only one man had ever touched him in that way. Only one man had ever been inside of him, and whether or not to keep it that way wasn’t a choice – his body had cruelly reacted, making the decision for him.
And now what? Was this fair to Anakin? To Obi-Wan? Ferus couldn’t expect them to cater to his ridiculous, unrealistic stipulations. Somehow, he would need to find a way to move forward. He’d need to let go. There was no point in dwelling on the past – on what was lost, when there was something wonderful and beautiful right there in front of him. Ferus didn’t want to think of Roan; he’d rather focus on the happiness Anakin and Obi-Wan were so generously willing to provide. Wasn’t that what Roan had taught him to do? Wasn’t that what Ferus had just recently advised Anakin to do?
After midnight, when Ferus is finally able to settle his scrambled thoughts and restless form, Obi-Wan’s comm chimes. Having gotten a whole half hour of sleep, Ferus grunts, determines whatever has just woken him must’ve been a dream, and buries his face in the back of Anakin’s neck.
But in the morning, Ferus learns that dream had been a reality, and that angelic, bell-like sound had been a message from Anakin’s former Padawan, Ahsoka.
“What does she say?” Anakin asks urgently. “Is she in trouble?”
“No,” Obi-Wan tells his Padawan placatingly. “And this message is actually for Ferus,” he intones.
“Me?” Ferus raises a brow.
“It’s a lead,” Obi-Wan explains. “Anakin and I had told her of your mission to locate surviving Jedi, just as she were trying to locate renegade clones. . . It seems she has reason to believe that Master Luminara Unduli is alive, and has been seeking refuge on Bakura.” The joy Obi-Wan feels at this news is apparent.
“That’s amazing,” Ferus replies enthusiastically. “Any other details?”
“It seems Ahsoka hadn’t been there herself. There were some ex-soldiers there that thought they’d recognized her, but she would not reveal herself to them when they inquired – naturally; she wouldn’t be aware the disloyalty of the clones was controlled and temporary.”
Ferus is silent as he processes this. He’s been on an Olin and Lands/Jedi hunting hiatus for more than two weeks now, but he’d just told Anakin he wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. . . Ferus can't stand the idea of Master Lu out there alone, likely fearful for her own safety now that she’s come in contact with those she believes to be in cahoots with the Empire. Ferus wants all surviving Jedi to know they have a safe place to seek shelter at the asteroid base. And he wants them to know the truth about the clones.
Anakin sees the gears turning – Ferus’ famous tendency to plot. “I want to go with you,” he tells him. “. . . If you’re going to try to find Master Luminara, I want to go, too.”
“Anakin,” Ferus starts.
“I know,” Anakin finishes. “I know. My rib. My everything. I can’t just sit around being a house pet. I need to do something.”
Ferus’ lips curl. He runs his fingers through Anakin’s hair. “It seemed you’d been enjoying being a house pet,” he jokes.
“Mostly,” Anakin admits with a laugh, nuzzling to Ferus’ hand. “But if I can do something – I want to do it; I want to do good. I want to make a difference. It’s been nice to be carefree, and I needed time to get better, but. . .”
Ferus understands. Completely. The two had discussed this. And of course he wants Anakin with him, but he hadn’t imagined this change of pace taking effect so soon. He silently debates, as Anakin further argues his point.
“This is something I can actually handle; I doubt we’ll even see much action. We find Master Lu, we give her the intel about the base, and we depart. Right?”
Ferus mouth shrugs. “That’s pretty much it, yes, but complications can always arise. We’re all fugitives, and agents of the Empire are always lurking. Did Ahsoka say if there’s been an Imperial presence on Bakura?” Ferus questions Obi-Wan of the message.
“She didn’t say, but from what I know, the threat there is mild – nothing scandalous going on to bring forth a blockade. There shouldn’t be a problem getting in with your crafty ID documents.”
Ferus’ smile is humble. “Was it disclosed where the troops had seen her?”
“Working at a polystarch plant.”
Ferus scrunches his mouth. “I can’t see there being too many of those. I can research mills ahead of time, plan for an arrival when they’d be fully staffed; I’ll be in and out.” Ferus sees Anakin frown at his use of singular pronouns. . . He knows what’s insinuated – that he and Obi-Wan stay behind, and that is what Ferus would prefer.
Obi-Wan nods in agreement. “It’s a decent-sized world, but the populated area is confided to one region. We should be able to cover ground quickly.”
Ferus eyes him. “We?”
“I. . . I want to go, too,” Obi-Wan confesses quietly.
“You??” Ferus asks in disbelief. “Mr. Wait?”
“This still coincides with the waiting plan. It’s not a rebel uprising; it’s making sure a friend is safe.”
Ferus’ features go soft. He knows Obi-Wan had held a close bond with Master Luminara; they’d grown up in the Temple together.
“Well, that settles it,” Anakin informs cheekily. “You can’t leave helpless Anakin here all alone; I’ve got to go if he goes.” He shoots Ferus a dashing smile.
Ferus smiles back in spite of himself. “It has been a long time since the three of us have gone on a mission together,” he notes nostalgically.
“Yes, it has.” Anakin snakes to Ferus’ side. “And I think I’ve finally mastered the fine art of working with you without starting a fight. What do you think, Master? Don’t you think we can get there and back without ripping each other’s hair out?”
“Hair pulling,” Obi-Wan says thoughtfully. “Well, it could still occur in a different context.”
Ferus reddens as Anakin belly laughs. “Okay,” Ferus agrees, more easily than he’d expected to. “We’ll work as a team.” The deal has already proven a handsome investment in the form of Anakin’s glorious and joyful grin. “I’m thinking we can research this morning, map out a plan, rest.” The word is spoken firmly as he looks at Anakin. “Then, if we travel overnight and arrive in the early morning, it would be the perfect time to start tracking. Hopefully we’d be heading back no later than tomorrow evening.”
“And if we don’t find her?” Anakin queries.
“Unless we have another solid lead, there’s no point in going further,” Ferus decides. “If she’s made a move, she could’ve moved anywhere.” He turns to Obi-Wan. “Do you think she would’ve left the planet upon being spotted by the clones?”
Obi-Wan strokes his beard. “Master Lu is very resourceful. . . and very stubborn. She wouldn’t jump the gun if she’d planted roots there, and as evidenced by the job, I’d say she has. She’s likely been cautious, observant, but my instincts tell me she’s not on the run.”
“If we can’t find her at work, hopefully there will be an employee file that indicates where she lives,” Ferus thinks out loud.
“Exactly,” Anakin praises. “Yep. Great start. You two do the research, and I’ll get my lightsaber.” He attempts to stand.
Ferus cackles, and grabs Anakin’s arm before he can make his escape. He and Anakin are both silent, lovingly staring at one other. The moment is bittersweet in that Ferus is thrilled that Anakin will be with him, but also terrified to put him in harm’s way. He pulls him to his chest, somehow expressing this without actually having to say it. Anakin kisses him, and Ferus reluctantly lets go of him, cogitating as he watches him walk away.
“This is a good first run for him,” Obi-Wan pacifies. “We knew he’d want to get back in the fight eventually.”
“I know. But he literally almost died just a few rotations ago.”
“That was often the case upon deployment during the war,” Obi-Wan reminds.
Ferus melts into Obi-Wan’s space and lets himself be held by him. “I don’t mean to baby him,” he whines. “It’s just. . .”
“We both know he likes being babied,” Obi-Wan chuckles. “Don’t worry about it; and I understand.”
“He’s just so. . . fragile. I mean, he’s not, but he is. This entire near-death fiasco was all because he lost his balance. . . Anakin Skywalker – knocked on his ass and hospitalized because he lost his balance. He’s not the same warrior he once was, Obi-Wan. . . I don’t think his connection to the Force is as strong.” Ferus hates to verbalize it. Was it an endurance Anakin could rebuild? Or was the Chosen One’s mystical connection lost?
Obi-Wan sighs; he has long shared in this very woe. “I. . . I’ve noticed. He’s not as perceptive. And that’s. . . not like him – not like who he was. He was always a step ahead of me. I don’t know if it’s that we’ve told him to shield, and there’s a misconnect with that? Perhaps having a person so strong in the Force cut themselves off from it has a greater impact than you or I could fathom. It’s possible he can’t adequately function with that lost link.”
“That makes sense. I’ve also considered the loss of his limbs being a factor.”
Obi-Wan has considered this as well, but he doesn’t often let himself entertain the thought, because then. . . then, he is to blame. Mostly, Obi-Wan likes to pretend everything is normal when it comes to Anakin’s health, but as his beloved boy had tearfully pointed out in the medcenter just the other day, there are so many reminders that say otherwise.
Obi-Wan misses his Padawan shining brilliantly in the Force. He misses the intensity of their bond. The bond is still there, and it is a constant and a comfort, but the contrast to what it had been before is vast. . . but Obi-Wan does not dare complain. Because he has Anakin back, and that’s all that matters.
“I wish things were different,” Ferus comments somberly. “But we just can’t risk him using the Force, especially since we don’t know if he shared a dark bond with Sidious. We can’t risk him exposing himself that being the case.”
Obi-Wan feels bile in his throat at the thought of his precious Padawan having called another Master – that his lustrous light had been snuffed while that evil man had basked in the shadows as opposed to Anakin’s signature rays. So, Obi-Wan likes to conveniently forget the Sith element of this whole debacle as well. “No, you’re right. But he won’t really need the use of the Force for this little mission. And we’ll be right there with him.”
“Do you want to tell him that after he’s already packed the lightsaber?” Ferus playfully inquires. Obi-Wan chortles, and Ferus peaks up from his hold. “How are you with a lightsaber these days?” he fictitiously ridicules.
“I hope we don’t have to find out,” Obi-Wan remarks humorously.
Ferus snorts. “What do you think he’s doing?” he asks curiously of Anakin.
“I heard the refresher door; he’s probably in front of the mirror posing with the hilt,” Obi-Wan jokes. “Or more likely, piddling with it – getting it set to his liking, making adjustments.”
Ferus laughs. “Both. . . Do you really think he’s ready?”
“He’s ready.” Obi-Wan kisses Ferus’ temple.
And whether or not Obi-Wan is right about this, Ferus knows Anakin needs this.
*
Research conducted and bags packed, and power nap completed – as promised, Anakin pilots them all out of the atmosphere of Bellassa, as they focus on the mission, and put playing house on hold.
None of them thought they’d be leaving so soon, and it had been understood their next stop would be Tatooine. Now, that has changed, and Ferus abruptly finds himself back in his former routine, but with the privilege of the company he’d wanted from the start. . . Obi-Wan. . . he and Obi-Wan, searching for Jedi – together. And even with the withstanding worry, Ferus is thrilled to have Anakin be a part of this as well.
As Obi-Wan had predicted, they enter the atmosphere of Bakura without issue. They dock their ship at a nearby port, acquiring a rental speeder for their stakeout. There are two polystarch flour mills in the planet’s business district. They will first investigate the larger, parent branch, with plans to hack the company database, which likely holds information on both locations. . . And since computer security is Ferus’ area of expertise, he had previously established he'd be the one to enter the facility to begin with.
Obi-Wan had been in agreement, citing that he and Anakin would observe the external areas of the property to watch the incoming travel lanes and entry pathways for a familiar Mirialan. Since it is prime punch-in time for factory workers across the galaxy, they may be able to intercept Luminara if she does in fact report to this particular plant.
Anakin and Obi-Wan (and Leven), secure at their rooftop post, Ferus sneaks into a back, first level entrance, and moves through an open, but empty industrial hallway. He follows the sounds of noisy equipment, pushes through a set of double doors, and slips behind the nearest piece of large machinery. He scans the area for a computer workstation, feeling fortunate that there is an unoccupied one in a position where he can remain concealed.
He cable-connects his datapad to the corresponding electronic port, and begins quickly sorting through information. He filters by species and gets nearly a dozen matches. His eyes scan the mugshot-like photos; he hadn’t seen Master Luminara in years, but believes he could still pick her out of a lineup. He can always transmit the images to Obi-Wan should he have any doubt. Ferus picks up his two-way to brief quietly. . .
“See anything overhead?”
“Negative,” Obi-Wan comes back. “Your status?”
“I’m in, and I have data to work with; won’t take long. Check your holopad. I’ll be sending the profile if I find it – and I think I just did. . . . Faleem Yaledner. I think this is her.” Ferus transmits the employee profile, then disconnects his device in preparation to move.
“Absolutely,” Obi-Wan confirms. “According to this, she is based at the other facility, and she last reported to work. . . yesterday, and she is scheduled to be on the clock. . .” Obi-Wan checks the time. “Now.”
Ferus is already making his exit. “Perfect.”
“She’ll be in Sector H.”
“They’ve almost made this too easy,” Ferus quips.
“Where are you?” Anakin frets.
“I’m outside. Coming up to you now.”
Anakin blows out a breath. He hadn’t expected to feel so nervous on this mission, but he didn’t like sitting idle while Ferus took the risks.
But in mere seconds, Ferus is in view, and hopping back into the speeder. Anakin smiles as he hits the accelerator to take them to the other mill.
“Good work,” Obi-Wan praises. “You didn’t by chance retrieve a schematic with the sister branch’s sector locations?”
“Of course I did,” Ferus smirks.
Anakin grins. “So, now Obi-Wan goes in to find her while you and I wait? That was our alternative plan, right?”
“Right,” Ferus agrees. “She’ll be more receptive to Obi-Wan – she knows him best, and would trust him the most.”
Obi-Wan checks the time again. “She should already be inside.”
“We should’ve gone there first,” Anakin laments. Leven lets out a solemn sound in solidarity.
“It’s an extra step, but nothing we can’t handle,” Ferus encourages.
“Yeah, but it would’ve been so much easier without infiltration.”
“Well, there’s no need for infiltration this time,” Obi-Wan determines. “We’re not cracking computers this stop; there’s no need to sneak around. In fact, drop me at the front door.”
Anakin laughs. “I know you like to make an entrance, but is that a good idea in this instance? From what I gather, you were a bit more famous than Master Lu; some of her coworkers might recognize you, and they may not all be allies.”
“Roof,” Ferus concurs sternly. “Save your big entrance for another time,” he teases.
Anakin maneuvers the speeder to the bird’s-eye position.
Obi-Wan does not delay. “I’ll find her and ask where might be the best place for all four of us to meet up and talk, and I’ll radio you.” Obi-Wan squeezes Anakin’s shoulder. At his terse nod, Obi-Wan realizes he won’t be getting a heartfelt goodbye or kiss. Typically, any separation, for any period of time, would prompt a pout from his Padawan, but it would seem his fierce Jedi partner has returned; Anakin appears put-together and battle ready. . . and Obi-Wan admires him. He shoots Ferus an adoring look that is returned tenfold, then moves on his way.
Anakin immediately snatches a pair of macrobinoculars, and begins scanning the perimeter. “Hey, Fess?” he asks amid his task.
“Yeah?”
“What am I even looking for this time?”
Ferus chuckles. “Anything and everything.” He has just gotten situated with his back to Anakin to oversee the rear of the smaller facility. “We’re not exactly waiting for trouble, but it’s good to be on guard.”
“Yeah. . . Do you think Master Lu will want to go to the asteroid base?”
“I’m not sure, but at least she’ll know it’s there and how to get to it, and she’ll know there are some clones she can trust. Most importantly, she’ll know she’s not alone.”
“I can’t imagine what it’s like to be by yourself at a time like this; I wonder how many more Jedi are out there.”
“I’m hopeful there’s more than the Empire would like everyone to believe.”
“Me too. I want to find them all – you, me, and Obi-Wan. . . We’ll find them all, and we’ll restore the Order and rebuild the Republic.”
Charmed, Ferus has to laugh. “One thing at a time. It’s your first rebel mission, but of course you’re ready to conquer the galaxy.”
“Can’t help it.”
“I know. I understand exactly how you feel. Believe me.”
“Fess!” Anakin hisses urgently. Leven lets out a high-pitched squeak.
Ferus rotates.
“Is that. . . ?” Anakin feels himself go pale.
“Kark,” Ferus mutters. He grabs the two-way and hits the prompt to alert Obi-Wan they need to converse as soon as he’s able.
“Yes?” Obi-Wan returns right away.
“Trouble. Empire. Do you have her?”
“What?? Are you serious?”
“Why would I joke? It’s them, and it’s not a normal patrol vessel. This isn’t someone stationed here; it’s a visitor, and it’s an important visitor from what I can see – higher class craft.”
Anakin is already climbing out of the speeder, but Ferus catches him by the arm.
“Numbers?” Obi-Wan requests.
Ferus takes the binoculars from Anakin. “Assuming it’s the only ship. . . can’t be more than a dozen passengers. . . Oh, Force.”
“What?” Obi-Wan returns.
“Fulcrum may have an informant; there’s a face down there that I recognize. We better warn her.”
Anakin digs in Ferus’ jacket for his communication device and is already composing an encrypted message to Ahsoka.
“They’re here for the same person we are.” Ferus is sure of that, and he’s frustrated. “Our timing is terrible.”
“Or. . .” There is a gleam in Obi-Wan’s voice. “Our timing is impeccable. . . Who’s interested in making this a rescue mission?”
“Me!” Anakin answers charged. “Let’s do this!” He mightily clamps a hand over his synth-flesh fist.
Ferus has to physically restrain him once again. “We’ll remain here as your eyes, but we’ll move further out of sight. Have you seen our target?”
“Not yet, unfortunately,” Obi-Wan reports. “This is a bigger place than I imagined – blasted labyrinth inside. I know where Sector H is, but I can’t seem to get through the maze.”
“That might be a good thing for when the troops enter – you can both keep hidden,” Ferus points out.
Anakin repositions the craft to a shadowed corner. “Ferus, we can’t let him do this alone; if they see him, they’ll know who he is. We need to be in there.”
“Give him a chance,” Ferus soothes. “If all four of us are in there at the same time, then it’s more probable that one of us will run into a troop at some point. Hopefully, Obi-Wan will get to Luminara first, and up here to us without an Imperial encounter.”
“But if he doesn’t. . .”
“Just wait,” Ferus tells Anakin.
“She’s on the run,” Obi-Wan’s voice comes through the two-way. “She hasn’t seen me, but I’ve got eyes on her. She’s going lower deck. I’m not sure where she’ll come up.”
Ferus stands on the speeder seat and takes inventory of potential escape points. “Stay on her as long as you can; try to remain unseen. She’s likely to make an exit at the rear; there’s a heavy population of woods back there.” Ferus’ dark, determined eyes meet Anakin’s. “If she gets out while Obi-Wan is still inside, she’ll need to know we’re up here and able to take her to safety. You stay put in case she comes here, and I’m going down.”
“No, I’m going with you; you just said it yourself – she’s not coming up here!”
“She still could, and if she comes up here without a chase, take the speeder and go to the spaceport; Obi-Wan and I will find you.”
“You’re crazy!”
It’s an interesting role-reversal – Ferus wanting to take action and Anakin calling him crazy. Ferus snickers and Anakin is scowling at him now. “I thought you said you’d mastered working with me without a fight.” He tauntingly takes a lock of Anakin’s hair between his fingers and tugs.
Surprise overtakes Anakin’s face, then, he lets his guard down – slightly.
Ferus calms as well, and realizes even though he’s adopting a classic Anakin strategy, he’s also still playing the part of the directive Padawan. . . and Anakin had never much appreciated that. “Look, I’m not going down there to engage in a lightsaber battle,” Ferus assures. “She’s likely fifty steps ahead of those troops, and I’ll just be waiting for her when she emerges, and we’ll come straight up here.” He gets eyes level with Anakin. “I apologize for being bossy,” he grovels. “Will you please stay?”
And if Ferus can work on his bossiness, then Anakin can work on tendency to want control. “Please be careful,” he begs.
“I will. Keep your blaster close. I don’t think you’ll need it, but that’s first choice over lightsaber, okay? You don’t want to expose yourself as a Force-wielder unless you absolutely have to.”
Anakin nods.
“Hold on to the radio, so you can communicate with Obi-Wan.” Ferus puts it in his palm. “And if anything goes wrong – if you need me for any reason, send Leven down.” He quickly pecks the furrowed brow before relocating to the ground below.
It’s Leven’s turn to protest. “No, he’s right,” Anakin huffs. “We stay.” It is truly a crossroads for Anakin; he knows what he would’ve done at seventeen – there’s multiple options, really. Following Ferus, the first, but also soaring down the steps into the factory and going straight for his Master. . . and possibly compromising Luminara’s safety in the process. . .
No. This time, Anakin is going to carry out the plan he’d pledged. He stealthily walks to the edge of the building and looks down with the macrobincoulars, Leven following behind. Ferus is nowhere to be seen, but Anakin knows that’s likely because he’s taken shelter in the trees.
Suddenly, Anakin hears the roof access door open. He ducks for cover behind an air filtration receptacle. He raises a finger to his lips, and Leven descends to his shoulder. Anakin can feel his heart pounding out of his chest. In his mind, he replays Ferus’ comforting mantra to be mindful of his breathing. He closes his eyes and opens his ears. . .
There are two distinct voices. Both sound as if they are sifting through a vocabulator. . . meaning they’re wearing helmets. . . Stormtroopers.
Anakin reminds himself that they are looking for Luminara. All he has to do is remain unseen, and they’ll be on their way. . . but then they’ll be a threat to her. . . and to Obi-Wan, and to Ferus.
Anakin sets his blaster to stun; if all goes according to plan, they won’t be here much longer anyway.
“You’re going to be the diversion,” Anakin whispers to Leven. “Make sure they are looking at you, and their backs are to me; we can’t let them see me.” In lieu of attention-drawing binary, Leven flickers the blue light of his eye, then quietly and casually hovers over to the armored men.
Anakin can hear the droid chirping. He adjusts the hood over his head and readies his weapon. He’s going to have to fire the shots very quickly, one after another, and he can’t miss. He peers around the large, electrical box and aims the blaster for the man furthest from him.
‘Where did that thing come from?’ He hears one of the men ask the other.
Leven starts frantically beeping in a language that only Anakin can understand: ‘Now! They’re both looking this way!’
Anakin takes the first shot, and without having determined whether he’s succeeded or failed, he aims and takes the second.
Leven’s victory whistle tells him what he needs to know – the soldiers are now unconscious.
Anakin blows out a breath and plops down on his butt. He’d believed he could do it, but knowing how long it had been since he’d tried had surely left him with a shroud of doubt. Leven zooms over to Anakin’s concealed location with questions.
“I don’t know how many more there are, but that’s two down.”
*
Ferus has just made it to the lush forest. He lines up with the thick trunk of a tree and keeps watch.
“Come on, Master Lu,” he mumbles to himself. Of course this ‘easy’ mission hadn’t been as straightforward as planned. He glances at the roof before fixing his eyes on the factory exits once more. He wonders what Obi-Wan’s plan is on the inside. Perhaps he and Luminara had found each other and are already moving to the roof. He momentarily loses physical focus again. . . Anakin would send Leven down should that take place.
Ferus snaps at attention, bracing himself, as the main, hefty external door begins diagonally splitting open.
It’s Luminara! . . . in cuffs. . .
Ferus curses under his breath, collects himself, and collects the data. . .
Four stormtroopers form a diamond around the former Jedi. She appears unharmed and poised. The doors have already shut behind them, and Obi-Wan is not anywhere to be seen, which is good, considering.
The men begin marching the Mirialan around to the front of the mill. . . where their vessel is parked. And Ferus knows he can’t let them board that ship.
He follows at a distance, trying to determine the best course of action. If he opens fire, he won’t be able to eliminate all four threats at once. Moreover, Ferus doesn’t know how many more troops are on that ship, or who is commanding it, but the likelihood that they’d hear a shootout is high, then he’d for sure be outnumbered.
If only he had a way to alert Anakin; he could act as a sniper from above. . . but there isn’t time to wait for Anakin or Obi-Wan to realize what’s happening.
Ferus the Jedi Padawan had never been one to wing it – that had always been Anakin’s tactic. But Ferus the rebellion leader often found himself in situations where he’d had to think on his feet, and not ahead of time.
“Faleem??” Ferus calls out in false surprise. “Faleem, what’s going on?” As anticipated, weapons point in his direction. Ferus raises his hands. “Please, what has she done? Where are you taking my friend?” The fleeting change in her eyes tells Ferus Luminara has recognized him.
“Your friend is a dangerous fugitive, and she is being taken into custody,” one trooper calls out.
“There must be some mistake,” Ferus reasons. “We’ve worked here together for the last six years.”
“No mistake,” the same trooper barks back. “Now, move along or we’ll be forced to detain you, too.”
“Oh, do detain him.”
Ferus seeks to find the owner of the bone-chilling voice. There stands the man responsible for the destruction of Acherin – home to Ferus’ friends, Toma and Raina, who were now caretakers to the asteroid base. . . The vicious Admiral Riwwel.
*
Only a moment passes, and Anakin is back on his feet – one task accomplished, but job not complete. He races to the ledge where he’d been. Just as before, there is no activity – no Ferus.
Now the stairwell door barges open, with much more force than it had the last time. Anakin spins on his heel and draws his weapon, but it’s, “Master!”
“They took her.” Obi-Wan meets him at the rear to discover the very same thing Anakin just had – there is no one there. In route to the opposite side of the rooftop, Obi-Wan stops short. “Where’s Ferus?”
“He went down in case she came out the back.”
“She did go out the back.” Obi-Wan is now sprinting to his original destination, Anakin on his heels.
They both see it at the very same time. . . Ferus with his hands up, trying to stall a quad of troops, Luminara in the center.
Mere meters away, a man clad in grey vengefully glides down the Imperial cruiser ramp.
Notes:
Since I just cured you of a cliffhanger, here’s another 😅
This is a homage to the Rebels episode which opened with swirls of rumors of Master Luminara being alive. This time she really is! I imagine she would meet her doom and suffer the fate she had in that ep had our boys not been at the right place at the right time. . . Yay! Skylinobi love has saved another soul!
Chapter 26
Notes:
Another long one! 8kish. . . It's been a long night. . . Need sleep 🥱
Mild content warning ⚠️ Controlled Alcohol Consumption ⚠️ (end of chapter)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Admiral Riwwel is not what one would call a happy personality – a smile is rare, and his outlook bleak. But. . . what he has just achieved has certainly put an uncharacteristic pep in his step.
Riwwel had been irritated by the circumstances surrounding this pickup mission. From his perspective, it was preposterous to leave any Jedi alive, even if only for a short while. He hadn’t shared his misgivings with his superiors, hadn’t shown any signs of disobedience; he’d done what was expected of him, done what he was expected to do. . . but he hadn’t expected this senseless quest to become so beneficial.
Ferus Olin was in his custody.
No one had known what had become of the rebel snake who had allegedly turned to their side, then suddenly disappeared. Riwwel had known what Olin was about from the start. He’d made a complaint to his direct supervisor in hopes that his concern would trickle to the top – these fallen Jedi could not be trusted. But no one had been interested in his opinion. . .
How he had taken pleasure when Olin had vanished and proven him right. But naturally, his correct judgement hadn’t been acknowledged; that was not the way of the Empire. The Empire was not about discussion, and forewarning; it was about action. Action was rewarded. . . And finally, Riwwel would receive the credit he’d long deserved. The Emperor would not be able to ignore the one who had located the Jedi-turned-Imperial-traitor – a task his supercilious Inquisitors hadn’t managed all these months – a task Vader himself hadn’t managed.
Surely a promotion was in his future, and as if that weren’t fortuitous enough, this would undoubtedly further solidify his claims that there was no need for the Empire to employ any of these glorified lightsaber twirlers. They would all fail in the end, even Vader. It was redundant to utilize Force-sensitives to find Force-sensitives when the galaxy-wide end goal was to eliminate them all. They were unnecessary, and a waste of cabin space.
While Riwwel held a grand respect for his ruler, he was insulted that Palpatine’s pretentious squad of sorcerers always seemed to outrank him, even though that was not technically the case. What was his infatuation with these Force-using freaks? They did not understand the pursuit – what it meant to be part of a working, thriving Empire, but they were often given more jurisdiction without having the experience.
Today was a day of change. Riwwel would alert no one of Olin’s capture; he would not risk the credit being taken from him. Then, he would march the pivotal prisoner right up to the throne of the almighty man, and his days of being looked over would be behind him.
*
Ferus’ half-worked plan had gone somewhat awry when Riwwel had shown his ugly rat face; he and Luminara had been split up, making it difficult for them to come up with a more solid solution together for their escape.
Ferus knew these ships had one standard detention cell. . . He suspected Luminara was in it, because currently, he was cuffed to a chair in what he assumed was Riwwel’s office.
The four troops that had detained Luminara and him were held hostage for a time as well. Ferus had witnessed the rudely enforced mandate – NO ONE outside of this room was to know that he was aboard the craft; Riwwel was desperate to keep Ferus a secret.
Eventually, two of the men were released with threats for their demise should they let the information slip. The remaining two were to stay to monitor – along with Riwwel, who partook in stereotypical Imperial taunts. But Ferus didn’t let it bother him; he knew the tactic well.
Riwwel made sure to tell him how despicable he was. . . a vile disgrace. . . an abomination. He promised torture was coming. He vowed he’d find the rest of the Eleven and eliminate them all. He instilled that what few Jedi were left would be destroyed. And this would all take place shortly after he was delivered to Palpatine personally.
But Ferus didn’t intend to get that far; he knew he could get himself out of this - he’d escaped from Imperial prison on more than one occasion without issue. And the likelihood that Obi-Wan and Anakin would intervene was high, though Ferus would prefer they’d let him handle it on his own. He didn’t want Anakin anywhere near this ship, but Ferus knew better than to expect otherwise. . . Because if Anakin wasn’t already on the ship, he was at least responsible for the horrible whine it was presently making.
*
In the maintenance sector in the lower levels of the craft, Anakin had just pulled the most critical power cell in just the nick of time. The cruiser had lifted off the ground, but hadn’t gotten out of the atmosphere. Now, the consequence of gravity was in effect.
Any decent pilot wouldn’t have issue making a safe, emergency landing – it’s not as if they were going down in flames, but Obi-Wan had reminded that not every aviator had the flight expertise of the Chosen One, and the higher the ascend, the harder the fall. . . and time had not been on their side while trying to carry out their sabotage during liftoff. The Imperials had gotten what they’d come for, and then some, and were obviously eager to be on their way.
Alarms are blaring as Obi-Wan and Anakin find their way out of the mechanical wing. They are blinded by flashing, red hazard lights, but hasty footsteps are heard in the distance. Obi-Wan rips away a grating panel from a ventilation shaft overhead. He hoists himself up and extends a hand to Anakin.
The vertical leap is something Anakin could normally do without assistance, but there isn’t time to protest, or to test his upper body strength. He takes his Master’s hand. They see a trio of troops run by just as Leven secures the last bolt on the grate.
There isn’t anything the troops can do; Anakin is sporting a pocket full of power cells. The ship begins shaking violently, a shrill coming from the engine compartment. Obi-Wan wraps his form around Anakin protectively. Anakin clasps the arms that shield him as they huddle together and brace their bodies for the impact, both hoping Ferus and Luminara have something to hold to as well.
The grand hit is hard enough for them to tumble over, Anakin freeing his mechanical hand to get an unbreakable grip on the edge of the grate to prevent them from bowling down the airduct.
The cruiser scrapes and skids. . . then comes to a sizzling halt.
Anakin and Obi-Wan are still wrapped together as their large eyes meet.
“Another happy landing,” Anakin boasts quietly.
Obi-Wan chuckles, takes a moment to nuzzle his partner-in-crime, then they begin their investigation.
It isn’t long before they find themselves above the detention block of the mid-sized cruiser.
There, they spot Luminara, alone in the single cell. . . and only guarded by two troops – it is likely all hands are below deck for the moment.
Anakin silently raises his blaster and shows his Master that it’s already set to stun – a solution that will emit a much quieter sound than firing a shot, and concurrently spare the lives of the misguided men.
Obi-Wan nods, and each man slips their own blaster between the grate. . . The duo of guards crumble to the floor.
Obi-Wan is first to move from their elevated platform, then looks around before motioning to Anakin that it’s safe to come down.
“Hello, Lu,” Obi-Wan beams as he steps in front of the cell, showing his teeth. Anakin and Leven get to work on cracking it open.
Luminara is astounded. “Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. I don’t believe my eyes.”
“I’m so happy to see you,” Obi-Wan remarks heartfelt.
“I believe it is I who am happy to see you – happy and quite confused,” Luminara muses. “How did you learn I would be taken captive?”
“You didn’t know?” Obi-Wan charms. “Your survival is a hot rumor at the present,” he teases.
“Apparently.” Luminara’s eyes go wide in annoyance at the fact.
“We actually hadn’t expected a run-in with the Empire,” Obi-Wan elaborates. “We’d come to get a message to you – that you aren’t the only surviving Jedi.”
“So, I’ve seen,” Luminara replies evenly, unphased by the workings of the mystical Force. “I was taken in with Ferus Olin.”
“Where is he?” Anakin asks desperately.
“I am not sure. The one in the Imperial uniform was eager to lead him away.”
“He recognized him?” Dread fills Obi-Wan.
“It appeared so; their initial exchange seemed personal.” Luminara steps out of the cell at Anakin’s success.
The old friends embrace. Luminara touches Anakin’s shoulder and gives him a fond look.
“Different, I know.” Anakin gestures to his face.
“No less of a savior,” Luminara tells him in gratitude.
Anakin’s lips curl.
“We better hope the man in charge did not call for backup. Regardless, I don’t believe you’ll be safe here any longer, Lu,” Obi-Wan reports in regret.
“But Ferus has a place you can go,” Anakin reveals. “A safe place for all Jedi; we’ll take you there.”
“I value your loyalty,” Luminara praises. “And I will assist you in locating Ferus.”
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan conveys appreciatively. “Our Ferus has had a number of dealings with the Empire; he knows his way around their vessels, and he’d told us this craft likely housed about twelve passengers. There are two here, so there is at least ten elsewhere - we better get moving.”
“Eight,” Anakin corrects. “There’s two on the roof of the mill.”
Obi-Wan looks at him in surprise.
“Yeah, I had a little trouble up there. That’s why I missed what was happening on the ground below.”
Obi-Wan’s heartrate rises, even though Anakin is here and well. “You weren’t injured?” he checks, alarm evident in his tone.
“No, they never even saw me; Leven and I enacted the sniper stun.” Anakin taps his fingers on the weapon at his side.
Obi-Wan blows out a breath. This was supposed to be a safe trial run for Anakin. “I suppose we should go back up the way we came, difficult as it may be to explore in the tight space. But the ship is only so big; it’s better to remain unseen.”
Aided by Obi-Wan, Luminara is first into the ventilation shaft, and as before, Obi-Wan hauls himself up, then reaches for Anakin. But before Anakin can take his Master’s hands, they hear the sounds of an airlock releasing on the door to the prison ward.
Anakin knows he might be able to get up into the duct unseen, but there’s no way all three of them can be quiet and settled in time; whoever is coming will know they are up there. Anakin snatches Leven and darts off in another direction on foot.
Obi-Wan nearly shouts in objection, but instead, retracts his hand, and he and Luminara stay silent.
Obi-Wan cannot yet see who’s entered, but the individual immediately sounds a different alarm at seeing the empty cell. Now, a conversation can be heard below. . .
“The Jedi has escaped!” Riwwel shouts over a comm device. “Where are you!?”
A gruff voice returns the call, “I could ask you the same question.”
“I am Admiral of this vessel! I need not disclose my whereabouts to you! Why weren’t you watching your prisoner!?”
“I was in the mechanical sector trying to get your ship in working order after you decided to make yourself unreachable.”
“Get back up here NOW!” Riwwel demands. “Find the Jedi!” Riwwel begins muttering under his breath, “This is why these Jedi should be killed on sight.” He aggressively hits his comm again. “Trooper CB0305, do you copy?”
“Sir?”
“You and CM1231 remain where you are. No one is to enter or exit my office, especially Inquisitor Hydra. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
Obi-Wan forgets how to breathe. An Inquisitor? On board? And looking for Luminara while Anakin is wandering around on his own?
Riwwel continues, “Remember he is MY prisoner; no one outside of those walls is to know he is here!”
Obi-Wan purses his lips in disgust. He knows this admiral’s kind – a brown-nosing ladder climber; he wants to get in good with Palpatine, and plans to use Ferus as a trophy to do it. But this is good, because this means that Ferus’ safety won’t be compromised as of yet. Even if backup was called for, they won’t come with the reinforcements for multiple Jedi – just Master Lu. If they can get Ferus off this ship and eliminate this admiral, no one ever has to know they were here. . . and no one will come looking for them.
Before the evil man can leave the area, Obi-Wan and Luminara burst through the ducts.
*
Anakin had slipped into the hallway out of a secondary entrance on the other end of the detention block. To avoid being seen, he moves on the other side of the first door he comes to, and thanks the Force that it is an unoccupied space. He looks up at the room’s sole air vent, then at a cabinet in the corner. Time allows for him to try to pull himself up this go round, but he decides to save his strength and opts to climb; impotent body be damned, Anakin is determined to find Ferus, and that is what he’s going to do.
Anakin doesn’t see the logic in returning to Obi-Wan right now; they still have their two-ways, which will aid them in coming together in the end, but Ferus likely has nothing – not a communication device nor a weapon.
Anakin crawls through the slender shaft, Leven lighting the way. They pass over a plethora of facilities. . . dining area, sleeping quarters. . . offices. . . And at last, Anakin sees his prize, easily identified by the silver-streaked hair alone.
Two helmetless troopers are there with Ferus. Their faces are not matched to the only clone, Rex, Anakin has come to know. In the short time Anakin had spent with Rex, he’d learned what it had been like to serve with him; the clones took their duty to the Republic very seriously. . . These yahoos looked mighty relaxed to be soldiers – nothing like Rex had described their men in the five-o-first to be.
The insolent Imperial servants are snacking on what looks to be ettel nuts, and Anakin sees they are taking turns throwing them at Ferus a few feet away. Ferus doesn’t flinch – doesn’t give them the satisfaction of a reaction, but just stares at them as if he’s looking right through them.
It's amusing, really – that these sloppy excuses for soldiers actually think they can keep someone like Ferus restrained. His wrists are bound and affixed to a chair, but Ferus is by no means helpless; Anakin knows he just wants these guys to think that. Ferus is just waiting for his moment. But Anakin is here now. . .
Anakin signals to Leven to release the bolts on the vent. He cannot wait to dive in and save the day – to save Ferus. . . But just when he’s feeling cocky, the grating he’d been peeking through noisily crashes to the ground; it was his job to hold it in place while Leven loosened the bolts. . . and Anakin had quite literally dropped the ball.
The armored pair jump from their seats, and throw their heads back to look up at the opening.
For Ferus’ part, he is sure this is Anakin and Obi-Wan, but he’s unsure if the falling grate had been part of whatever plan they’d had. He jumps upright, pulling the chair out from under himself, and with a graceful spin, he takes the dual-purposed piece of furniture and whacks his captors off their feet.
Anakin is now coming down from the ceiling, grinning ear to ear.
Ferus is grinning as well. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Anakin sings. He hits the floor with a stomp of his boots, but before he can start forward to free Ferus from the cuffs, to hold him and hug him and kiss him, he freezes upon registering the terror on his face.
Anakin doesn’t see what Ferus sees, but he feels it. . . a dark disturbance in the Force. . .
“Well, what do we have here?” A petite woman with severely short blonde hair enters the office – lightsaber in hand.
Anakin whips around at the sound of the voice, backing up towards Ferus on reflex.
In hearing the exchange Riwwel had had with the stormtroopers, Ferus suspected she was here. . . The always fierce and always unpleasant, Hydra – the Inquisitor he’d been assigned to team up with when Palpatine had deemed him the head of the search for Force-adepts.
At the time, Ferus had planned to take the Imperial missions, but rather than turning the charges over to the Empire, he’d intended to move them to base. But Ferus had never worked with Hydra in that capacity, because he’d first found Anakin, and Lune, and he found the light again, and the strength he needed to separate himself from the Empire. . . and from the darkness. . . He'd found the will to keep from becoming an Inquisitor himself.
“Ferus Olin,” Hydra taunts. “I was wondering when you’d pop up again. And here I find you in chains. . . in the Riwwel’s office. . . Curious.” The woman stalks closer.
Ferus’ hands are still bound to the chair. He is trying to concentrate on dislodging the locking mechanism of the cuffs by way of the Force, but he is also trying to remain vigilant of this woman’s intent. How he wishes Anakin hadn’t come down from that vent.
“And who are you? Are you responsible for my mechanical failure?” Hydra addresses Anakin.
Anakin glares in response, hand hovering over the lightsaber he isn’t supposed to use unless it’s absolutely necessary. . .
“He’s no one,” Ferus abruptly replies on Anakin’s behalf.
“That pretty much means he is, doesn’t it?” Hydra ignites her orange-colored blade.
Disproving Ferus’ claim, Anakin’s own sword springs to life less than a second later.
“Oh!” Hydra exclaims disdainfully. “Another Jedi – I came for one, and got a nest. . . We had use for the Mirialan, but the Empire has no use for you. Your kind is to be wiped out – hunted down. Thank you for eliminating the hunting part; makes my job much easier.”
Ferus’ cry of protest is drowned out by the sounds of the contrasting, clashing blades. Anakin CANNOT fight this Inquisitor. Even at his strongest, it would have been no easy feat. Anakin doesn’t even know what Inquisitors are, and Ferus really hadn’t wanted him to find out this way. But it’s too late; Anakin’s first post-surgery battle is underway.
It takes several attempts of smacking the chair against a wall to render it obliterated and Ferus free, save for one wrist that still dons a loose cuff. While no more than a minute has passed, the time it had taken felt agonizingly long – every second in battle a crucial one.
Riwwel had confiscated Ferus’ lightsaber and blaster; he picks up a broken chair leg, but before he can enter the fight, a stormtrooper slides open the office door. . . and then cowardly flees down the hall.
Now a trooper, with access to a comm device, can attest to a lightsaber-wielder being on board that isn’t Luminara. It had been fortunate that Riwwel had kept Ferus’ presence under wraps for his own personal gain; he can’t let this troop be the one to sound the alarm – if word got beyond those involved in this mission, Bakura would be surrounded with Imperials. Even if they all escaped, an investigation would take place – and likely right away. There wouldn’t be time to wipe the mills’ security recordings, and Ferus, Obi-Wan, and Anakin would all be exposed. Palpatine can’t know that Anakin is Anakin again.
So, Ferus is forced to make the impossible choice, and abandon Anakin to chase after the troop. . . and intercede any others who might happen to come nosing around. Furthermore, Riwwel is still lurking about. And he must be stopped as well.
Ferus can’t hesitate. Hardly no time has passed, but he can see that Anakin is holding his own, moving in a way that Ferus would never have expected considering how out of practice he is, along with his hindered physical state. And for the first time in months, Ferus can feel Anakin in the Force. While he had only felt harrowing pain back when they’d first come together, Ferus feels his passion now – he feels the light. It radiates, pushing at the darkness the inquisitor exhumes. And Ferus somehow trusts that Anakin will be all right.
Ferus directs Leven to find Obi-Wan. The droid races out of sight, and less than a yard down the corridor, Ferus catches up to the fleeing troop. He tackles him to the ground, and with the broken chair leg, delivers a hard blow to his cranium. The helmet will protect his head, but he’ll be down for the time being. Ferus takes his comm and blaster, rises, and. . .
“FERUS!!” Obi-Wan shouts his name for several reasons. He’s relieved that Ferus is safe, but also. . . “Anakin!?”
Obi-Wan had heard the lightsaber duel take shape. And since he has Ferus’ lightsaber, he knows the unfolding battle is between Anakin and the Inquisitor he’d heard Riwwel talking to. He’d left Luminara to deal with the last of the men in white, and had sprinted towards the sound.
Ferus knows Riwwel has been dealt with when Obi-Wan tosses him his lightsaber, but, “We can’t let the stormtroopers call this in!” Ferus hollers in response.
“Lu is taking care of it! Come on!!” Obi-Wan runs past Ferus to get to Anakin.
Ferus motions to the office, the hissing of the weapons heard from the other side of the wall providing assurance that Anakin is still on his feet. Ferus pounds the keypad, and the room is visible again. Twin, pale blue laser beams light up the doorway.
Hydra’s silver eyes shift in the direction. She lets out a hate-filled and frustrated scream. Deciding it time to end the droid-armed Jedi twerp, she aggressively rears back both arms, weapon overhead.
Ferus and Obi-Wan can’t move quick enough as a blur of orange threatens to slice Anakin in two.
But Anakin, building up a quick-charge of momentum, whips his blade behind his back, an incomprehensibly swift swirl of sky blue, flying forward like an unleashed circular saw to slash his opponent at the waist.
The woman gasps and topples over.
Anakin looks at the corpse in horror, the anguish apparent on his face at the irrefutable choice of taking the life.
Blades extinguished, Ferus and Obi-Wan rush to him. Obi-Wan pries the lightsaber from his Padawan’s trembling hand. Ferus cups his flushed cheeks.
“Ferus,” Anakin whimpers emotionally. “Ferus!” He throws his arms around him. “When I saw them take you, I—” Anakin chokes out.
Ferus shushes him. “It’s all right; I’m okay. Are you okay?” Now he is looking Anakin over as he tends to do. Obi-Wan examines him as well as he grips Anakin by the arm.
Anakin guiltily meets his eyes,” Master, I. . .”
“You did nothing wrong,” Obi-Wan avows. They now live in an era where fighting like a Jedi is not always possible. Even in the war that were true, but Anakin wouldn’t remember what it was like to fight as a soldier rather than a keeper of the peace. . . He wouldn’t know that this is not the first life he’d taken.
At the pardon, Anakin easily falls into his arms. Obi-Wan looks over Anakin’s shoulder at Ferus in astonishment. He’d known Ferus had had his own confrontations with Inquisitors, often having to flee to safety. And here, Anakin had just defeated one in mere minutes despite not having been in a fight after all this time.
“She wasn’t going to stop,” Anakin mumbles upset. “I– I had to.” He’d been careful in not taking the lives of the troops, but he’d not seen another way in this instance. “Who was she?” he asks fretfully. “Was that a Sith?”
“A dark-sider,” Ferus answers. “The Empire has a whole squad of them called Inquisitors, and it’s their job to kill Jedi. . . And I’ve fought them on more than one occasion with little success.” Ferus lifts Anakin's chin and smiles. “You were sensational, babydoll.”
Anakin is bashful, but can’t help but feel pride at the praise. “Really??” He sucks in his lips.
“Yes,” Ferus enforces. “Oh my god, Anakin, I was so scared; I was so scared when she came at your back. But I guess I had no reason to worry. . . I’m so proud of you.” Ferus can’t keep his hands off him now. He pulls him back in his embrace.
“I wasn’t going to let her hurt you,” Anakin declares, then lets out a dramatic exhale. “I wanted some excitement, but not like this; where’s Master Lu? Can we go? What happened to the man who had taken Ferus?”
“I took care of it,” Obi-Wan replies gravely, after having been mostly speechless. “Master Lu is working on an elaborate mind-trick for the remaining troops who had seen us. I think it’s safe to say no one has been contacted, but we must depart quickly just in case.”
“I can do tracings on all the ship’s outgoing communications and personal devices, to be sure,” Ferus offers. “And I think we should take the ship to base. What do you think? An additional mode of transportation never hurts; we can strip the tracking signals on the way.”
“Is your ship small enough to dock?” Obi-Wan queries.
Ferus scrunches his mouth. “We can put two passengers in each craft if not, since there are four of us now.”
“I can make it work,” Anakin informs. “No problem; I can make a bracket extension if need be. . . I’ve also got to get this ship going again. . .”
“Then, I suppose we have a plan,” Obi-Wan agrees. “Best we leave no evidence behind anyhow – I’m sure there will be another vessel arriving in the coming days when this one doesn’t report back.”
Ferus nods grimly. Before he sets off, his fingers curl around Obi-Wan’s neck, and the man tugs him in his hold and kisses his cheek.
“Thank the heavens you’re all right,” Obi-Wan breathes without hesitation.
“I’m sorry for needing rescue.” Ferus grins at him purposefully.
And Obi-Wan has to laugh at remembering a young, Padawan Ferus, no more than eighteen, saying those exact words to him once before. “We all need rescue sometimes.” And that was verbatim how he’d responded back then.
Ferus mirrors his kiss and moves urgently to get to work.
Before Anakin can follow. . . “Anakin,” Obi-Wan calls quietly – desperately.
Anakin spins on his heel, and meets his Master’s troubled gaze – the worry of the knitted brows, the slight frown of his lips. Anakin reverses his steps, and the two bodies clash together.
“Oh, baby,” Obi-Wan lets out tearfully. He holds Anakin tenderly by the nape, pressing their cheeks together.
“I’m all right, Master,” Anakin promises in his ear.
And Obi-Wan thanks the stars that is the case. . . Anakin is unharmed, and untainted.
*
Ferus messages Toma and Raina to let them know they are on the way, and the group of four set a course for the secret base on the hidden asteroid, the smaller craft safely docked below, compliments of Anakin’s latest mechanical concoction.
After a thorough analysis, Ferus had determined there was no evidence of any distress transmissions having been sent to outside sources.
The band of stunned, weak-minded stormtroopers had been left behind with manipulated information. Those who could report sightings of multiple Jedi were convinced they hadn’t seen what they’d seen. It was strongly, and successfully, suggested that they cease in their workings with the Empire, and all return home to rethink their lives.
Those individuals who had regrettably become causalities of their own ill intent, were taken off-world and given orthodox, deep space burials.
At the completion of all of these impending tasks, both pre and post takeoff, the quartet of former Jedi have the opportunity to visit and get reacquainted – the larger cruiser providing more comfortable and roomy seating accommodations to do so.
Luminara is amazed to learn how much Ferus has done for the fallen Order he’d left. She expresses her gratitude for his mission. Though she hopes to return to Bakura someday, she is thankful there is a place she can reside in this time of fallout. . . a place where she will reunite with another Jedi survivor and cherished friend. . .
Bultar Swan had been a few years behind her when Luminara had been working to complete her apprenticeship. The two had once been paired in a program that provided budding Padawans with senior students to act as mentors before they were officially selected by a Master. The girls had formed a special and unbreakable bond, and Luminara is thrilled when Ferus reveals she is currently stationed on base.
Thrill is her prominent emotion, at the present. Master Luminara is thrilled to learn there are still Jedi alive out there in the vast galaxy, and she is thrilled that Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ferus are among them – likewise thrilled that they’d come specifically for her at precisely the proper moment.
But Luminara is also surprised. . . She is surprised at the way these three are all over each other. . . surprised, but not disapproving. She is surprised and saddened to learn of Anakin’s memory loss and the injuries he’s sustained, but from the current discussion, it seems the effects were not much of a interference to the always-in-action Padawan of Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Ferus and Obi-Wan still find themselves in awe over what Anakin had accomplished. They had been easing Anakin into lightsaber re-training, going over forms and starting fresh, but apparently, that hadn’t been as necessary as they’d thought.
From what Obi-Wan had seen, he believes Anakin had fought on a skill level greater than he had at seventeen, the muscle memory seemingly a part of his history that hadn’t been erased.
At the many favorable inquiries about his brawl, Anakin comes to terms with the fatal course of action he had taken.
Anakin can barely recall the life he’d once lived, swinging into action without a second thought, defending those around him without fear of repercussion. It came with a recklessness both Obi-Wan and Ferus had chastised him for in the past. Now, they offer their full support. And after months of struggling with a sense of helplessness and shaky self-worth while Obi-Wan and Ferus have had to shelter him from harm, Anakin can bask in the feeling of being the hero again – the protector fighting for those he loves most.
*
The hours pass, and the beacon to base has led them to the storm that keeps the asteroid so well hidden.
Anakin had never been to base, but Ferus has told him much about it, and Anakin had been insistent that when the time came, he’d be the one to pilot through the treacherous, never-ending storm. But the adrenaline from his Inquisitor encounter had finally worn off and put him into a coma-like sleep.
It had only been about twenty-five minutes prior to their hyperspace exit when Anakin had put his head on his Master’s shoulder and unintentionally drifted off.
Obi-Wan and Ferus debated waking him to carry out his proclaimed challenge; he’d likely wake on the ride anyhow, but they opt to let him sleep as Ferus instead takes the controls, Obi-Wan holding his apprentice close for the bumpy ride. . . And Anakin actually sleeps through it.
When they land, and Anakin still does not stir, Luminara undocks the smaller ship, and both vessels are anchored separately on the orbiting rock. Ferus bridal carries Anakin to the more familiar sleeping quarters of his ship, and tucks him into the tiny pilot’s bunk where Anakin had slept in their private week together.
They had planned for a quick drop-off – get Luminara settled, have a short visit with Toma, Raina, and Bultar, and then depart. . . which would have them returning home by the early evening as they had originally scheduled.
But Anakin has not shown signs of naturally waking anytime soon, and Ferus knows he wants the opportunity to explore the base he’d heard so much about, meet Toma and Raina, and to see Bultar again.
So, they wait.
Ferus checks in on Anakin every half hour or so, and somewhere within the third hour, he and Obi-Wan decide they will just stay for dinner as Raina had suggested to begin with.
Raina is excited to host company, and shops the stocked staples for the most gourmet meal she can muster. She even breaks out the imported bottle of Merenzane Gold that Dex had sent over with Oryon during his supply delivery closest to Life Day.
Much, much later, Anakin finally awakes, a bit confused and a little panicked, prior to recognizing his surroundings; he’s on Ferus’ ship. But the craft is idle, and quiet – they’d landed.
Anakin tries to recollect the latest events. . . He remembers snuggling beside Obi-Wan to relax, just for a moment, before his piloting skills were needed. . . He frowns. He’d developed much better sleep habits these days, so this feels like a setback. But he forgives himself when he takes into account that he’d just physically exerted himself more than he had in ages.
Anakin yawns, and sits up, discovering that his muscles are somewhat stiff and a tad sore. He exits the cabin and enters the open living area where his bacta tube used to take up most of the space; no one is around, and Anakin wonders what time it is. He surmises they’d made it to base late morning, as planned, and his traveling companions have likely ventured out for lunch. . . Anakin is starving.
He pads to the refresher, splashes water on his face, brushes his teeth, and smooths the cowlicks of his short locks as best he can. He needs a full shower – the works, but this will do for now; he’s already late to the party. . . And a party it is. . .
Anakin hears the sounds of laughter and a chorus of cheerful voices echoing around him as he descends down the ship’s ramp. In the dim, artificial light, he makes out a circle of friends sitting upon seats of stone; even Leven is zooming around. His Master is the first to spot him and call out.
“Anakin! There you are, love.” Obi-Wan rises to greet him.
“Hi,” Anakin’s voice comes out more hoarse than he’d expected. He and Obi-Wan share a kiss, apart from the group. Then, Ferus makes it over to them.
“Hey,” Ferus croons, then kisses him as well. “How’d you sleep?”
“How long did I sleep?” Anakin suddenly feels uneasy; the current meal seems to be a feast. . . one that wouldn’t have been quickly prepared.
“It’s been nearly six hours,” Ferus informs.
“What?!” And Anakin realizes he’d missed lunch, and what he’s smelling now is dinner. “You should’ve woken me,” he tells Ferus in horror; he’s meeting Toma and Raina for the first time – he doesn’t want to seem rude.
“It’s okay,” Obi-Wan promises. “It’s very casual here. And we’ve been glad for the extra time together. No rush.”
“Are you hungry?” Ferus questions. He sees Anakin nod as his eyes flicker to the others. “Don’t be shy,” he coaches him. “Casual, like Obi-Wan said.”
Obi-Wan moves to prepare Anakin a helping of creamed Rishi corn soup, and a serving of Brualki brisket and Kinyenian potatoes, as Ferus begins easing Anakin to the circle. Their steps are slow, and they are hand in hand.
“How did I get on our ship?” Anakin asks curiously.
“I carried you,” Ferus answers matter-of-factly.
Anakin halts, and turns to face him. “You did?” His lips curl.
“I did.” Ferus runs his thumb over the top of Anakin’s synth-flesh hand. “What?” he chuckles at Anakin’s giddy grin.
“I dunno,” Anakin shrugs adorably, still smiling wide.
Ferus frames his face, then kisses his lips. “I cannot wait to get you home,” he tells him intently.
Anakin looks at him in surprise, detecting the underlying hint of seduction in his tone. He tries to rid his cheeks of the blush as they embark upon the sphere of rebels.
“Anakin, hello!” Raina calls. “We’re so happy to meet you.” She and Toma stride forward to properly make his acquaintance.
“I’m glad to meet you, too; I’m sorry I’ve slept through much of the visit.”
“That’s no trouble,” Raina assures warmly as Toma shakes Anakin’s hand.
“Now we know the recovery period post Inquisitor battle.”
This is a voice Anakin has heard before. “Bultar!” The last time Anakin remembers seeing her, she’d been a newly-graduated Jedi Knight. He reaches to take her hand in both of his. “It’s so good you see you. . . Maybe it hasn’t been as long as I remember??”
Bultar’s smile is soft. “No, not quite that long,” she confirms. “It’s good to see you, too. I’m so happy Ferus has set up this safe space for us.”
Anakin looks overhead at the glorious display of stars. “It’s really something.”
“It’s not much,” Ferus counters humbly.
“Nonsense,” Luminara’s cheeks rise. “In these times, a place where Jedi are welcome is nothing less than a temple.”
Ferus gives Anakin the seat beside him, and Obi-Wan hands him a plate. Anakin’s eyes scan the inviting faces around him, feeling fortunate for more than just the meal. “Thank you. . . so much,” he says to the group as a whole.
Dishes are cleared and cups rendered empty as Toma passes around the bottle of Merenzane Gold for second servings.
When Anakin is offered a pour, he looks at his Master in question. “Am I allowed??” he asks chuckling. “If I had a drink before, I can’t remember.”
“You’ve had a drink before,” Obi-Wan intones. “But you were a lightweight then, and I suspect that’s even more so the case now; I’m going to recommend just a small sample.”
Anakin looks to Ferus, accustomed to needing permission from both men. “I agree – small sample, if the lightweight thing is true.”
“It’s true,” Obi-Wan reinforces. “I once got a late night comm call from Rex for pickup. Had to carry him over my shoulder out of the club. I was told he’d had two and a half shots of Kibshae.” He laughs. “I won’t tell you what happened next, but let’s just say our boy has a weak stomach.”
Anakin bites his lip and cringes. “Sorry,” he winces.
“It wasn’t a problem,” Obi-Wan coos. “I am, and was always happy to take care of you.”
“Why weren’t you at the bar with me?” Anakin questions.
Obi-Wan waves a hand. “You didn’t always want your Master around.”
“I’m sure I did,” Anakin disagrees as Obi-Wan hands him a glass with a single shot’s worth of liquor.
Anakin takes a dainty sip and tries to act as if it doesn’t instantly affect him; he swears he feels that one little drop of drink immediately travel down to what’s left of his legs. Obi-Wan was right. . . If he was a lightweight before. . .
Ferus snickers. “Acquired taste,” he guesses. He himself wasn’t drinking – he really didn’t drink, not since the Conception Day incident at Roan’s family’s church the first time he’d celebrated the holiday with the Lands clan.
It was a religious practice to honor the sacred day with a goblet of chimbak wine. Ferus had kept it to himself that he was an alcohol-drinking virgin. . . He’d been too young for a taste when he’d been an initiate at the Temple, and while others his age might have been sneaking off at night trying to mind-trick bartenders in the lower levels of Coruscant, Ferus would never break the rules in such a way.
Ferus had ended up serenading the entire congregation with his musical stylings on the vioflute. He’d spent the following day in bed, but not so much from a hangover, but more from humiliation. Roan had insisted he wasn’t ‘that bad,’ and that no one was judging him – on the contrary, he’d been the talk of the event; everyone wanted to get to know the fun-loving newcomer.
Later, Roan had confessed that when Ferus had been up on that alter, bringing forth such joy and wonder to his childhood place of worship, through song, he knew, in that moment, that he wanted to marry Ferus.
Even so, Ferus vowed to never drink again; he was not comfortable with that level of loss of control. . . But now he was seeing the endearing qualities of innocent drunkenness that his husband had once seen in him. . .
Ferus notes how enthusiastic Anakin seems to be at the presentation of zoochberry cobbler pie for dessert. His face has grown increasingly red in color, and he’s much more talkative than usual. . . slurred speech, swaying posture, and all.
But upon monitoring the intake, it appears it’s just as Obi-Wan had said; Anakin had only finished that one shot he’d been sipping.
“FERUS,” Anakin attempts to whisper, but every person in their circle can hear.
Ferus hums softly in response, hoping Anakin will mimic his lower volume. Anakin is plastered to his side. Ferus’ arm is secured around him; he gently strums his fingers along his waist.
Anakin giggles. “IT’S TIME TO TAKE ME HOME.” His lips are right near Ferus’ ear, still at a decibel much higher than he realizes. “Ferus, remember what you said? Huh? You can’t WAIT to take me home.” Anakin belly laughs.
Ferus’ eyes go wide, and he hears Obi-Wan snort. “Yes,” he starts slowly. “I’m always anxious to get you home safely; you know that.”
“OH,” Anakin says in understanding. “I thought you meant something else.”
Ferus lets out an uncomfortable laugh. The arm around Anakin grips tightly, then reaches up to coax the wobbly head, face first, into his neck.
“Wike swexy thwings,” Anakin gets out muffled.
Ferus closes his eyes. He hears laughter from all around.
“Well,” Obi-Wan tries with a grand grin. “I think it’s time we call it an evening. Ferus?”
“Y-yeah,” Ferus gets out. “S-sounds good.” He wrangles Anakin to stand, and naturally, he stumbles. Ferus holds him up.
“Oh, I knew it,” Anakin cackles. “Taking me home!” he squeals hysterically.
Ferus stops breathing. He doesn’t make eye contact as he bids his companions goodbye. “I’ll be in touch,” he tells Toma and Raina. “Bultar, so good to see you again; let me know if you need anything at all. Master Lu.” The Mirialan bows, and Ferus does as well.
“Bye, Master Lu!!” Anakin shouts as he waves.
Luminara chuckles. “Goodbye, Anakin.”
Anakin then clobbers Bultar in a hug. “You’re my friend now,” he tells her. “Okay?”
“Always.” Bultar smiles.
Ferus is trying to drag Anakin away as Raina moves in for an embrace as well. “Behave yourself,” she teases.
“HA!” Anakin exclaims. “See, Fess, they know about it – they know.”
“Well, they certainly do now,” Ferus grits out between his teeth. “Come on.” He tugs Anakin in the direction of the ship.
“Waittt,” Anakin persists; he hasn’t said goodbye to Toma yet. “Hey,” Anakin tells him with a smirk. “Hey, Ferus is taking me HOME!” The final word is full of zest as he winks and wags his brows.
“Oh-kay.” Ferus hoists Anakin up over his shoulder as Obi-Wan had earlier described doing in the past, and beelines for the ship. Anakin screeches like a youngling, shrieking and giggling away. He knows Obi-Wan will handle the more formal goodbyes.
Ferus is tested in climbing the ramp with the wiggling weight of Anakin; he is bent at the waist, and his legs are flailing.
“Ferus!!”
Ferus doesn’t respond, focusing on getting Anakin aboard the ship.
“Is this how you carried me before?” Anakin wonders, suddenly sounding calmer.
Ferus smiles. “No. . . You were much more still then,” he chuckles. Now on the main deck, he heads straight for the cockpit, then deposits Anakin into the co-pilot’s seat. “And I carried you like a wittle baby,” he adds humorously, looking into the dilated blue eyes.
“A babydoll!!” Anakin can hardly get out the words before bursting into laughter, almost falling out of the seat.
Ferus can’t help but laugh with him. “Yes, like a babydoll. . . I probably should’ve carried you like a babydoll again; I wasn’t thinking – I didn’t hurt your rib, did I?”
Anakin shakes his head violently in the negative.
Ferus chortles. He straightens Anakin, then holds his angelic face. “Good. I just wanted to get you out of there.”
“I know,” Anakin tells him cockily. “I know what you want.”
Ferus playfully rolls his eyes. “You’re going to make me forever regret what I told you earlier, aren’t you?” He smooches Anakin’s neck and is rewarded with another set of cackles. He begins to fiddle with the seat’s safety harness, but Anakin resists.
“Whyyy?” Anakin groans. He pushes at the belt coming over his chest. “You’re supposed to undress me before you strap me down.”
Ferus nearly chokes. “Later.” He clears his throat. “We have to get you home first, remember?”
“Home,” Anakin sighs. “Can I still live with you?”
“Of course,” Ferus answers sweetly. “Of course you can.” He takes a quick suck from Anakin’s plush lips.
“Obi-Wan, too,” Anakin reminds.
“Obi-Wan, too.”
“Obi-Wan what?” Obi-Wan asks as he enters the cockpit, nearly knocked off his feet by the adorable sight of Ferus kneeling at the co-pilot’s seat and securing Anakin in the restraints.
“You’re going to live with us,” Ferus gets Obi-Wan up to speed.
“Ah, yes.” Obi-Wan floats over to them.
“I figured we better bolt him down until we hit hyperspace.” Ferus finishes the job and stands. “He’s a little active right now; don’t think you’d be able to hold him so easily for the trip out as you did on the trip in.”
“Good idea.” Obi-Wan snuffs a laugh. “Are you all right, darling? I’m sorry if he embarrassed you.”
“What?!” Anakin’s demeanor shifts, and he scowls. “WHO embarrassed you?” he demands. Now, he fights against the thick straps.
“No one,” Ferus reassures, and pats Anakin’s head. “I’m fine,” he tells Obi-Wan. “He just caught me off guard. I don’t know why I ran away; I guess I’m just ready to go,” he chuckles anxiously at the irony. “You?”
Obi-Wan nods as he grips the back of Anakin’s seat to brace himself for the rough ride. Anakin’s arms shoot up, and Obi-Wan takes one of his hands.
“You don’t think he’s going to vomit do you? He hardly drank a thing!” Ferus points out.
Obi-Wan laughs. “I warned you. I think he’ll be fine having sipped rather than shooting, and he's had less than that time I mentioned before. . . Are you feeling all right, love?” he checks with Anakin.
“Are you feeling all right?” Anakin probes sensually. He narrows his eyes.
“He’s feeling all right,” Obi-Wan confirms dryly. “Well enough to co-pilot anyway.”
“Co-pilot?!” Anakin shouts. “No. No, no, NO.” He jerks his head side to side. “Me. I drive. I always drive.”
Ferus has already ascended. “You are,” he lies, knowing Anakin will be easy to convince. “Take us home. please.”
“Oh, I’ll take you home all right,” Anakin emphasizes. He holds invisible controls and starts mimicking the ship’s distinctive hum.
Obi-Wan snorts and covers his mouth.
Ferus grins. “How did we so quickly go from unstoppable combatant to this?”
And Ferus loves ‘this.’
It is becoming increasing difficult to withhold the urge to verbalize just how much he loves Anakin.
But for now. . .
He cannot wait to get him home.
Notes:
And they'll be home next chapter! 😍
In the second Last of the Jedi book, there is an exchange between Roan and Ferus when Ferus first tells Roan about the secret base. This is what Roan says, “I have a pre-fab greenhouse, food supplies, seeds, plants, water purifying system, and a complete med unit. Everything you asked for. Plus extra fuel and some datapads, and a few other things. Your VIOFLUTE, so you can torture others in the evenings the way you used to torture me.”
Me? Yeah, I took that simple, final sentence and RAN with it lol. What do you think of my Conception Day story? 😆
Riwwel and Hydra are both minor characters in TLOTJ, though they didn't appear in any books together. Riwwel truly was responsible for sending Raina and Toma to base in one of the early books. And Hydra and Ferus were set to find Force-adepts in later books. . . but there was no Anakin to keep Ferus from the Imperial dealings 😭 It's okay! I fixed it!
I gotta say, I had fun giving these characters more depth - especially Riwwel's opening monologue. His character isn't really explored in the series, but this was my take. Hope you like!ALSO: Ferus did indeed apologize to Obi-Wan (and Siri) for needing rescue in one of the Jedi Quest books. . . and it was legit Anakin's fault he needed rescue in the first place 😂 Typical!
Thank you so much for reading! ❤️❤️❤️
Chapter 27
Notes:
🌶️ Content Warning 🌶️ Spice Ahead 🌶️ Both literary and visual spice! 🤩
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The late-night journey home is quiet and comfortable, and long enough of a ride to allow for Anakin to sober up. Once the craft has made it through the atmospheric storm, and Anakin has seized a short nap, Ferus grants him freedom from the confines of the co-pilot’s seat, and the trio instead curl up together on the dining area’s circular bench seat through the duration of hyperspace. Though few words are spoken, looks are longing and touches are plentiful. After multiple close calls, thankfulness is in full force.
Despite it being nearly oh-two-hundred when they finally walk through the threshold of the cozy Bellassan dwelling, sleep is not on the forefront of the mind of any man.
“Tea?” Obi-Wan offers the moment they set their belongings down in the foyer of the home.
“Sounds good,” Ferus replies warmly. He moves to light a lamp in the living area, as Obi-Wan makes his way to the kitchen.
Upon emitting the anticipated amber glow, Ferus is startled when he turns away from the fixture and finds Anakin’s grinning face a mere inch from his own; he hadn’t realized he'd been on his heels. “Hey,” Ferus chuckles and kisses the side of Anakin’s nose.
“We’re home,” Anakin informs provocatively.
Ferus smiles bashfully. “Yes, we are.”
“If I recall, you said you couldn’t wait to get me home,” Anakin reminds.
Ferus snorts. “You recall correctly.” He clasps his hands to Anakin’s waist, and Anakin falls forward, nuzzling into his neck. When Ferus threads his fingers through the barely-there curls at his nape, he swears he hears Anakin purr.
“Fess,” Anakin utters aimlessly, now nosing near his ear.
Ferus tilts his head for their lips to meet in a slow, sensual kiss.
But Anakin’s needy hands begin clawing up Ferus’ back, clenching the fabric of his shirt in his fists as his kissing takes on a more ferocious form.
Ferus reciprocates, pressing his body to Anakin’s and holding his face as he savors the inside of his mouth.
Anakin can feel Ferus’ hard cock against his thigh; he brushes his own member against Ferus’ hip innately.
At that, Ferus imprudently clutches Anakin by the arse – a firm hand holding each cheek. Anakin's legs wrap around him as he is lifted off the ground and urgently carried to the back of the house.
Anakin breaks their kiss to cackle as he had when Ferus had carried him onto the ship upon leaving the base. At the loss of contact with Anakin’s lips, Ferus moves his wet kisses to his face and neck.
They enter the master bedroom, and Ferus sets Anakin on the edge of the bed, hurriedly stepping out of his own boots, then wrestling Anakin’s off his mechno feet. As Ferus moves upright, Anakin impatiently fiddles with the belt buckle there in his grasp, before Ferus opts to efficiently remove the apparatus himself. And when Anakin attempts to then unfasten Ferus’ pants, Ferus instead yanks the clothes from Anakin’s torso, then gently escorts him horizontally to the mattress. He presses willful kisses down Anakin’s chest, right to his navel.
“Fess,” Anakin moans in between erratic breaths as his leggings are stripped away. “Ferus,” he chants, just for the sake of saying the name. “Oh, Ferus, yes.” His eyes are closed, but Anakin feels the hungry mouth finding its way to his pulsing groin. “Yes!” He thrashes. “Yes— Fuck!!”
“That’s the idea,” Ferus growls succinctly.
Anakin gasps.
*
Obi-Wan has just finished the brew, but it would seem the time for tea has already passed; he’d heard Anakin’s joyful giggle moments ago, and he knows very well what the boys are up to in the next room. He smirks as he carries three steaming cups to the living space anyway. . . but to his surprise, Anakin and Ferus aren’t there.
Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, puts the beverages on the sofa table, then moves down the hall.
Shock floods him when he sees a hardly-clothed Ferus straddling a stark-naked Anakin – in his bed – Ferus and Roan’s bed. Since they’d been staying on Bellassa, it had been obvious to Obi-Wan that Ferus had been avoiding taking either of them into this room. It had been easy to do, as Anakin had been enjoying their nights by the fire.
“Obi-Wan!!” Anakin squeals, as Ferus has just begun tasting the tip of his proud phallus.
Obi-Wan approaches with regard.
“Kiss me!” Anakin begs. “Obi-Wan, kissmekissmekissme. . .”
Obi-Wan bends forward and heeds the request, but probably not quite in the passionate way Anakin had hoped. He pushes his fingers through Anakin’s already-sweaty hair as Ferus finishes the task at hand. With a final flick of the tongue, he disengages just as Anakin spills over onto his own stomach.
Now, Ferus wastes no time in next targeting Obi-Wan. He grabs him by the tunic and reels him in, Obi-Wan melting in a puddle as Ferus gives him the kiss Anakin had probably envisioned receiving. It is a challenge for Obi-Wan to pull away. . . “Ferus,” he tries as Ferus moves his mouth over his throat. “Ferus, sweetheart, hold on. Wait.”
Ferus is panting. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
Anakin sits up in alarm.
“Nothing.” Obi-Wan strokes Ferus’ face tenderly. “Nothing is wrong, but I thought you might prefer to move into the living room.”
Ferus shakes his head. “All of the blankets we had on the floor are still packed up from the trip.” He takes a suck from Obi-Wan’s lips again.
The temptation to resume the kiss is great, but there’s a more pressing matter, “We can easily set things back up the way they were. It’s no trouble – it won’t take but a moment.”
Ferus’ face takes on a hint of frustration. “Well, if we’re gonna. . .” His telling brown eyes say the omitted words for him. “I want Anakin comfortable in the bed.” He glances at him and smiles.
“I’m fine wherever, Fess,” Anakin offers.
“Well, you had those brush burns on your back last time, and I just want us to all be more comfortable,” Ferus justifies.
“Consider what will make you most comfortable,” Obi-Wan tells Ferus in sensitivity.
“You’re sweet.” Ferus runs his hands down Obi-Wan’s arms. “But I’m most comfortable with you and Anakin. And I want us to stay right here together, because. . . because I love you.” Ferus sees Obi-Wan’s brows knit in empathy, an adorable pout forming beneath the ginger beard. His own lips twitch; now, he turns to Anakin, “I love you,” he tells him wholeheartedly.
And it’s out, and it’s an incredible release. All the secrets Ferus keeps, here is the ultimate truth – the only thing that really matters. He loves Anakin, and he loves Obi-Wan.
Anakin is already climbing on top of Ferus. He squeezes him and returns the phrase, “I love you, too.”
Ferus brings him in closer. Now he feels Obi-Wan’s arm come around him and his lips upon his forehead.
“And I love you, too,” Obi-Wan echoes, the touchy subject matter all but forgotten. He joins the pair in the bed, and he and Ferus share a more mutual kiss, Anakin still cradled to Ferus’ chest.
Upon realizing what’s happening above him, Anakin breaks loose and sprawls out, propped up on his durasteel elbow to watch. Without the fierce kiss ceasing, Ferus has moved to his knees, and only seconds pass before Obi-Wan’s state of dress matches the other men.
Anakin has never wanted to touch himself so badly as he does in this moment. He puts his synth-flesh hand on his stiffening shaft, but knows he is still a bit too sensitive to achieve the pleasure he seeks.
“Obi-Wan,” Ferus huffs out. The man’s sizeable hands hold him daintily by the ribs, as the coarse beard passes over his pectorals, a wet sensation adhered to his left nipple. Ferus inhales crisply, and grips the accessible strawberry strands. “Obi-Wan, I need to ask you something,” he murmurs.
“Anything you want, my dear,” Obi-Wan returns, his smooches traveling north again.
Ferus pecks his lips, then they hold each other’s gaze. “Anakin,” Ferus starts. “I’d like to have him,” he confesses. “I’d like to have him the way you had him the other night.” Ferus pauses, then makes the official, meek request, “May I have him, please, Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan is charmed. “It’s more than all right with me if it’s okay with him. . . Anakin, love?”
Two sets of eyes land upon the red-faced wreck below. Anakin is working to slow his heartrate as he nods stupefied.
Obi-Wan laughs as Ferus migrates in a position to devour his Padawan. “I’ll be right back,” Obi-Wan relays, though the pair will likely not notice his absence.
“I love you.” Ferus peppers kisses all over Anakin’s face.
Anakin tears up. “I love you, too.”
“I want you so much.” Ferus can’t seem to stop kissing him. Whether it’s the sudden love confession or everything they’ve been through in the last few rotations – Anakin being hospitalized, Anakin facing an Inquisitor – Ferus craves this intimate closeness with him. And for once, he’s not overthinking it. . . Though, there is one little hiccup that could thwart his plan. . .
Ferus has no idea what he’s doing – never before has he been the one to penetrate, but only the one to be penetrated. Though he doesn’t have full confidence in what to do, his body is begging him to try.
“Ferus, I love you,” Anakin can’t help but say it again.
Ferus’ heart flutters. “I love you, and I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long – I love you, Anakin. You mean so much to me; I need you to know.”
Anakin pulls Ferus’ face back down to his.
Obi-Wan is given a stunning view when he returns to the room. Anakin’s head is at the foot of the mattress now. Ferus is crouched low, his lean back prettily arched as he folds forward to kiss their precious prince. Obi-Wan admires his lovely, tanned complexion. . . his succulently round derriere.
He places a couple of towels bedside, bottle of lubricant held in hand. “Do you want to wear these, sweetheart?” Obi-Wan interrupts as he presents Anakin with his ‘nighttime’ stockings. At the mild nod of a reply, he passes Anakin the coverings, then hands Ferus the lube.
Ferus refuses to lose his nerve. “Will you help me get him ready?” he proposes easily. He tells himself the inquiry is about involving Obi-Wan; it has nothing to do with being moderately terrified to finger someone for the first time, or with being severely terrified at this secret coming to light.
“Of course,” Obi-Wan agrees, taking the small bottle back in his grasp.
Anakin is pulling on his third and final stocking as his Master settles between his legs. Obi-Wan assists him in reclining to the mattress again. “My beautiful boy,” he coos as he sweeps Anakin’s hair back. Obi-Wan then coats his fingers in gel, positions them for entry. . . and stops. He looks at Anakin wickedly, rubs his palms together and wraps a moist hand around Anakin’s cock.
Anakin screeches, but smiles.
Obi-Wan very gently gives him a single pump, the smile never leaving his Padawan’s face. “How’s that? Nice?”
“Yeah,” Anakin chokes out. “I really hope, eventually, I can. . .”
“In time, baby.”
Anakin throws his head back and sighs jubilantly. Now, Obi-Wan continues with his original excursion and works to prep Anakin for reception.
Ferus tries to pay attention to Obi-Wan’s technique; it’s not something he’s ever seen done, only felt. But just like the last time he’d witnesses this, Ferus is distracted by all the wonderfully scrumptious sounds Anakin is making.
“He’s ready,” Obi-Wan informs a short moment later.
Ferus is flooded with desire. He’s ready, too. The threat of embarrassment is outweighed by the promise for pleasure. His worry over hurting Anakin is minute; if Obi-Wan can fit inside of him, Ferus knows he surely can.
Obi-Wan is aware the comparison is being made, but Ferus hadn’t been the only one guilty of the yearnful, discreet scrutiny of the manhood of another. “If you like, I can assist with your prep as well,” Obi-Wan offers alluringly. Now his sparkling eyes are shamelessly fixed on Ferus’ erect member.
Ferus suspects the drool on his chin will suffice in answering the question. He grunts, favorably, immediately lost in the sensation as Obi-Wan’s thick, slick hand comes around him, working him much more thoroughly than he was able to work Anakin. But ironically, Ferus can’t take many more strokes than Anakin had; he’s liable to come before he can get to him. He puts a hand to Obi-Wan’s chest in warning.
Obi-Wan releases Ferus and checks on his disheveled-looking Padawan, who he can tell is also about to explode by association. He backs away, but not too far away, eager to watch the show – to see Ferus in action. He’s perceived Ferus as reserved where sex in concerned, but is smitten with the way he’d approached Anakin about it at the asteroid base. . . Obi-Wan is in love – with the both of them.
He watches as Ferus takes his former place in front of Anakin, ever so carefully; it’s clear he is nervous. Obi-Wan leans forward and runs a soothing hand along his back and up into his hair. “Is it okay if I’m here with you?”
Ferus swallows hard and nods. “I want you to stay close to us,” he informs shakily, and he really does. As Obi-Wan moves in, the hands on his waist ground him, guide him. They give him the assurance he needs to proceed. He lines himself up with Anakin as he observes his naked form. “You’re so beautiful, Anakin,” he compliments, then sweetly grazes his cheek.
“You are.” Anakin reaches up and joins his hand with Obi-Wan’s at Ferus’ waist. “Isn’t he, Obi-Wan?”
“Exquisite.” Obi-Wan’s right arm comes around Ferus and up his chest now.
Ferus takes the hand, kisses the palm, and places it back over his heart. And with that, he moves to push inside.
Ferus loudly sucks in a breath, stuttering over words that he can’t seem to form. Even here, hardly beyond the rim, the connection is all-consuming. Ferus is entranced, mind and body, but also at the sight of Anakin’s rouging cheeks, pouty lips parting, and long lashes fluttering. He’d seen these makings as he’d watched Anakin with Obi-Wan, but how exhilarating to be an ingredient in the recipe of such a delicious dish.
“Fess,” Anakin whines hushed. He longs to be filled. Ferus is taking his time, and Anakin suspects he is moving in slow for fear of causing discomfort, but Anakin can already tell, Ferus is of ideal shape and size, and he is fighting the impatience to be stuffed with such a satisfyingly perfect silhouette.
A palm still guarding his chest, Obi-Wan’s opposite hand massages Ferus’ shoulder, arbitrarily pressing kisses to it as he goes. And, of course, he admires Anakin from over that shoulder, giving him a charming wink whenever their eyes meet.
Anakin can’t help but grin. . . though Ferus does not. . . Anakin studies his furrowed brow and bitten bottom lip. He strokes Ferus’ thigh soothingly. . . encouragingly.
A tightness suctions Ferus, nurturing him, bringing him to sink further in – all the way in, leaving him utterly and completely overwhelmed. The journey had been impactful on its own, the culmination of the integration of he and Anakin blurring together as one. Though this is just the start of his performance, curtain call draws near. Ferus is stationary; to take that next step is a risk– the risk of premature ejaculation, along with the risk of exposing his inexperience. Eyes squeezed shut, Ferus grips Anakin’s mechanical knees.
From this point of view, Obi-Wan can see the tension. He touches his lips softly to Ferus’ neck in hopes of helping him relax. He then wraps both arms around him and begins lightly rocking against Ferus’ back – a natural notion that is known to appease all sentients.
Even with the middle man, Anakin quickly recognizes the rhythm; he knows this pace well. . . He mimics it, contracts his muscles around Ferus in time.
Ferus lets out a boisterous gasp, his own body paralyzed. But with Anakin and Obi-Wan’s majestic vessels rippling on his behalf, Ferus still reaps all the benefits. He hits that heightened arousal – and learns it is of greater magnitude in giving than it is in receiving. The peak he could reach in making his own thrusts is inconceivable. One day, he’ll make the discovery, but that day is not today.
Just as Ferus capsizes, Anakin rises up, and right into his arms. He loosely bobs in Ferus’ lap, then slows to a stop. The arms around him quake. The breaths in his scarred ear are hot and shallow. Anakin sees his Master’s strong hands caressing Ferus’ neck and shoulders.
Sandwiched upright between Obi-Wan and Anakin, Ferus can allow his weary form to collapse. “Sorry,” he manages with a pant.
“Sorry for what?” Anakin queries between possessive kisses and his own rapid huffs.
“I didn’t – I couldn’t. . .” Ferus languidly attempts to explain.
“No.” Anakin is aggressively and affectionately rubbing his head under Ferus’ chin. “Perfect. It was all perfect.”
“Sweet babydoll,” Ferus lets out a rejuvenating exhale. “I love you.”
“I love you,” escapes Anakin’s throat.
Ferus’ head plops against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Obi-Wan eases them both back to the headboard, Anakin’s link to Ferus bringing him along for the ride. He kisses Ferus’ cheek, and tousles Anakin’s hair, as their boy gets himself situated in a more restful position.
With Obi-Wan for a pillow and Anakin as his blanket, Ferus feels content to let everything else fall away. For once, his brimful brain is swept with serenity. He has no thoughts, no cares, no worries. There is only this moment, of peace, and of love.
As Ferus’ heartbeat regulates, Anakin’s adoring blue eyes look up at him. They both smile.
“I love you,” Anakin whispers again.
And Ferus has to laugh. “I love you, too.” He’s already lost count of how many times he and Anakin had professed this to one another since the first time a short while ago. But the same is not true for Obi-Wan, and Ferus doesn’t care to leave the ratio unequal.
Ferus loves Obi-Wan for all the love he has for Anakin alone, but beyond that, Obi-Wan is kind, and loyal. He is unbelievably understanding and unprejudiced. He’s nurturing. He’s calm; and Ferus had always been drawn to him – a faithful, indestructible shelter from his cognitive storms, with a perpetual, welcoming invitation to step inside and out of the weather.
Ferus strains his neck so that he may look him in the eye. “I love you,” he declares fervently.
“I love you, too.” Obi-Wan holds his cheek. “Very much,” he emphasizes.
“I need you,” Ferus further persists.
Obi-Wan isn’t certain of his meaning, but regardless, he would have to agree. . . in just about any capacity. Then, Ferus provides clarification. . .
“I need you to have me like you have Anakin. Please.”
“I have you,” Obi-Wan tells him softly, pulling him tighter to his chest; he still doesn’t want to make assumptions.
Ferus can see the indecision upon Obi-Wan’s face. He reflects on the last time they had all tried to physically express their feelings for one another – when Ferus had cowardly shied away. That isn’t going to happen now; there isn’t any reason to hold back. Ferus wants to be as connected to Obi-Wan as he is to Anakin, and he isn’t going to let his reservations on dynamics stop him. “I want you to fuck me like you fuck Anakin.”
Those crude, but direct words, from such a prim and proper tongue, could not be misconstrued, and with his own erection currently at Ferus’ back, Obi-Wan can’t say that he hadn’t thought about it.
“I want it, Obi-Wan,” Ferus avows. “I want you. . . I love you. . .”
“Oh, precious. I love you, too.” Obi-Wan’s large hand glides over Ferus’ physique. There’s a part of him that isn’t sure if he should proceed; part of him wants to check with Ferus – make sure he’s really okay with this. But there’s another part of him – a greedy, very human part – that doesn’t want to risk Ferus changing his mind.
Anakin has already freed Ferus from his clutches, allowing him to spin in his Master’s embrace and sit upon his lap.
“Please, Obi-Wan.” Ferus frames his face and parts Obi-Wan’s lips with his own.
Obi-Wan’s heavy cock rests against Ferus’ thigh, light friction forming from the movement of his frantic kiss. Obi-Wan grips his hip as Ferus lets gravity pull them both parallel to the mattress.
Anakin is there with a pillow to catch Ferus’ head. He watches hungrily, the trusty bottle of lube in hand at the ready.
Obi-Wan braces himself on all fours as Ferus’ leg locks around his waist. Their kissing carries on as Obi-Wan cautiously, but fervidly, explores Ferus’ lower regions.
Ferus moans in Obi-Wan’s mouth, shockwaves spreading through both of their bodies. Obi-Wan feels the precum leaking from the receptive slit. He rolls his fingers over it, siphons it, abandons the summit, and moves south.
Obi-Wan decides to break the kiss in order to keep mindful of any distress signals that might be present upon Ferus’ face. For now, his eyes are closed, and his breaths appear tranquil. Anakin hands him the vital vial, then takes his turn kissing Ferus – doing a magnificent job of keeping him occupied while Obi-Wan dampens his digits.
He waits until Anakin resurfaces, Ferus’ handsome features back in view. Then, Obi-Wan first fondles the external area around the opening.
And when Ferus’ expression changes positively, Obi-Wan allows his middle finger to be succumbed by the tight, but surely not virginal canal. Ferus still appears relaxed, so Obi-Wan is relaxed as well. There is a soft smile on his face as Anakin musses through his chestnut locks and takes hold of his hand.
Eyes still shut, Ferus’ body waves in time to the highs and lows of the tide of his shoreline, practically salivating in thinking of what’s to come. He imagines the invasion of the hearty cock, paired with a searing body sliding against his own, both inside and out. Soon he’ll grip the taut muscles of the broad back and massive shoulders – a form that sometimes feels twice the width of his own. He aches for the moment when he'll feel the light brush of stubble along his neck and collarbone as he is kissed passionately and endlessly. His fingers twitch at the desire to fist the dark, curly tresses, prompting his lover’s deep, husky voice to desperately utter his beloved nickname. . .
Ferus’ body suddenly goes rigid at the delusion.
His brown eyes shoot open, tears pooling in the corners.
Obi-Wan is filled with dread. The change had been instant; Ferus wasn’t okay. He’s already withdrew, but his hand rests assuredly on Ferus’ knee.
“Fess?” Woefully, Anakin catches a water droplet on the synth-flesh pad of his thumb.
Ferus scrambles back, out of reach. “I’m sorry,” he unloads heavily, without meeting their gaze. He despises the fragileness of his words and the quivering of his lower lip.
“It’s okay, love,” Obi-Wan promises in sympathy. “Don’t be sorry.”
Anakin puts a hand on his arm, but Ferus breaks free and launches from the bed.
“I can’t do this,” Ferus sobs. His hands rise in protest, still looking away. “I’m sorry– I can’t.” Reality comes crashing back, the blissful haziness in the room has cleared, making it apparent exactly where he is and what he’s just done. . . more importantly, what he was about to do.
Ferus bolts, closing himself behind the door of the adjoining refresher.
Anakin starts to chase after him, but with a hand upon his shoulder, Obi-Wan holds him in place. “Baby, wait.” Obi-Wan wants to get to Ferus, too, but he’d shut that door for a reason.
“You were right.” Anakin begins gathering strewn clothing. “We shouldn’t have been in here. That’s what it is, isn’t it?”
“I think that’s part of it,” Obi-Wan replies grimly.
“What’s the other part?”
“Telling us he loved us. The sex. A lot’s just happened.”
“He does love us,” Anakin defends. “I know he does.”
“Yes, but it may have been too soon to say it, or perhaps this was just too much all at once.”
Anakin can no longer restrain himself. He taps on the ‘fresher door. “Fess?”
“I need a minute, babydoll. Please,” Ferus projects his unsteady voice. He feels like a fool having just run out on Anakin and Obi-Wan; he’s worried them for nothing – it’s fine. He’s fine. He’d just gotten a little emotional. He looks in the mirror, splashes water on his face, and unexpectedly cries into the towel he’s drying it with.
No.
No tears. There are two men out there who love him – adore him, and it’s all fine. Everything’s fine.
Feeling lightheaded, Ferus drops down in a squat, grasping the back of his skull with his hands. The position makes him aware of the physical impact below. . . that invasive, breached feeling that he was once very accustomed to. . . but not so accustomed to any longer. He draws in panicked breaths, the room spinning behind the lids of his eyes.
Don’t think of him.
Don’t think of him.
Don’t think of him.
Ferus knows he’ll fall apart if he does.
He starts to shiver. It’s cold on the refresher floor without his clothes, but he’s not ready to retrieve them. He’s not ready to face Anakin and Obi-Wan. He’s not ready to see their troubled expressions. He’s not ready for the affection they’ll inevitably want to bestow upon him. He’s not ready to act like everything’s okay- not yet, but it is. It will be.
Ferus hits the lever on the shower and hops inside.
Obi-Wan and Anakin are still outside the door. They exchange looks when they hear the water running.
“What do we do?” Anakin frets. “I don’t want him to be alone.”
“I think he needs a moment alone, love. . . Come. Let us unpack the blankets and set up the living room pallet again. We can wait for him there.”
All of the luggage from their mission is still in the commons area where they’d left in upon entry – including Ferus’ personal things. Obi-Wan picks up his travel bag and carries it to the bedroom ‘fresher. Reluctantly, he slides the door open, only enough for a slender crack.
“I’LL BE OUT IN A MINUTE!” Ferus yelps frantically.
“Take your time,” Obi-Wan calls back. “I am putting your pack just inside the door here, in case there are things you might need from it. Anakin and I will be in the living room.” Obi-Wan seals the door shut and sighs. He feels awful; he blames himself for this. He’d started out with a level head, but had let himself get swept away. He should have carefully declined the invitation for sex, and he should have insisted they vacate the bedroom from the start, but upon hearing Ferus’ coveted love confession, he’d gotten caught up in the moment. Obi-Wan isn’t even positive that confession had been meant for him. Ferus may have been ready to tell Anakin he loved him – and for the two of them to be intimate, but he suspects Ferus was not ready to take those steps with him. It was too much, Obi-Wan determines.
Ferus’ shower lingers. He’s switched to cold water, because he wants to save hot for Anakin. He sits on the tiled floor and lets the water hit him as he repeats to himself ritually that everything is fine.
The harsh temperature is helpful in reclaiming fortitude. And Obi-Wan having provided him with his clothes and toiletries, and alerting that he and Anakin would not be waiting right outside the ‘fresher door, helps him find the courage to emerge. This is not a big deal. He’d just needed a minute, and he’d taken it. Things can go back to the way they were.
Ferus puts on his bravest face as he pads to the living room. Anakin and Obi-Wan don’t rise from the couch, but Ferus can see they are literally on the edge of their seats.
“I’m okay,” Ferus informs before the question can be asked. “I—I don’t want to talk about it. Everything’s okay.”
“All right,” Obi-Wan first responds.
Ferus now notices the remade pallet on the floor. “I don’t want to sleep in here,” he spits out in hurried agitation. “No. The bed is fine. That’s not– No.” He is failing in keeping the emotion from his voice.
“Darling,” Obi-Wan begins.
“Don’t, Obi-Wan. Don’t. It’s stupid. We aren’t going to live together and just not use the master bedroom. That’s ridiculous.”
“It doesn’t have to be forever; there’s no need to rush.”
“And it’s not stupid,” Anakin reaffirms. “We just want you to be okay.”
“I am okay. I’ve told you. And I want us in the bedroom tonight. Please,” Ferus begs; he doesn’t mean to sound so needy.
Obi-Wan stands, and strokes Ferus’ shoulder blade. “Okay. Whatever you like. If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.”
“That’s what I want. . . and, um, I’d like to go to bed soon; I’m tired. Anakin, take your shower, babydoll, and I’ll help you with your ointment afterwards.”
Anakin hesitates. It’s not what he wants to do right now; he doesn’t care about his healing regimen while Ferus is clearly upset, but he understands his need for the familiarity of the old routine. . . Things will be better in the morning, and morning is not so far away. He grabs his own discarded pack, kisses Ferus’ cheek, then heads for the hallway refresher.
Obi-Wan and Ferus are left in awkward silence.
There is so much Obi-Wan wants to say, and he’s sure Ferus knows it. “Tea’s gotten cold,” he comments casually. “May I brew you a fresh batch?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” And it would be. Ferus almost smiles, so very thankful that Obi-Wan isn’t going to try to force him to talk. It’s pointless to discuss it; the past can’t be changed.
Anakin takes the quickest shower of his life, even quicker than a water-conserving ‘sprinkle’ on Tatooine.
When he returns to the living room, he finds his lovers dismantling the pallet and folding blankets as a team. Ferus is quiet, but his mood actually seems a little improved, and Anakin is relieved when he snuggles him on the couch while they wait for Obi-Wan to take his turn getting cleaned up.
Suddenly, there isn’t anything left to do but go into the forbidden room. Ferus tries to act upbeat. He tries to act like the events from before hadn’t occurred.
Anakin climbs in bed first, claiming his usual spot in the middle, and Ferus can’t help but chuckle. . . This is nice; he wants to share his bed with Anakin – with Obi-Wan – with those he loves. There’s no reason not to. He waits for Obi-Wan to take his place at Anakin’s left and moves to the right. . . which hadn’t been his side of the bed in the past.
Both Anakin and Obi-Wan feel more at ease when Ferus gives them goodnight kisses. They trio silently settle in the sheets, and huddle together.
Despite the late hour, and shared exhaustion, no one immediately closes their eyes. Ferus is the last to drift off, of course. . . and his troubled mind manifest in his dreams. . .
Ferus is with Roan. They’re kissing. . . in their bed.
Roan tells him he loves him, and Ferus knows how much he means it. And Ferus loves him, too – more than he’s ever loved anyone or anything.
“He told me he loved me, too.”
Ferus hears Anakin’s snide speak cut through the room. He freezes at first, then looks around, but there isn’t anyone there.
“You okay, muffin?” Roan wonders.
“Huh?” Ferus looks back at his husband. “Yeah. . . I. . . Did you hear something?”
Roan looks puzzled. “No. . .”
“I just. . . I thought I heard something.”
“Probably just my heart singing for you,” Roan teases.
Ferus laughs. He loves his husband’s sense of humor.
Roan rolls Ferus on his back, brushing his fingers over the silver strands, then leaving a kiss to the side of Ferus’ nose.
“Is that him? Is that Roan?”
This time Ferus is sure he’d heard him – Anakin. He jolts forward, but Anakin isn’t there.
“Ferus??” Roan tries to bring him back to the present.
“I—I heard something again,” Ferus explains. “A. . . voice.”
“There’s no one here but us,” Roan assures, then helps his husband recline back in place. . . so he can resume kissing him.
When Roan does so, Ferus feels the building heat, the sublime arousal that no one had ever been able to awaken in him until Roan had come into his life. Ferus has never wanted anyone else. He’d never been with anyone else. “Roan,” he moans. “Can we? Do you want to?” He pleadingly clutches the bulging bicep of his lover’s arm.
“Oh, yes, muffin. Very much,” Roan eagerly agrees. “You don’t always have to ask, you know. Sometimes it’s okay to take.”
The happy couple grin at one another and start shedding their nightclothes.
“They’re talking about sex, aren’t they? That’s what he’s asking for, right? Are they seriously going to have sex right there in the same bed where we had sex??”
Ferus ignores the voice this time. Roan’s calloused fingers slide down his body worshipfully, his long, wavy hair falling over his brow. Ferus tucks it in place and pulls him down for a kiss, the pricking of his shadow of a beard a welcome irritation to the flesh.
Now, Roan touches him. . . and Ferus is engulfed in flames as his husband’s finger massages his entrance. . .
But then, Roan stops.
Ferus meets his gaze. Roan’s green eyes are hurt – betrayed.
“W-who touched you?”
“What?” Ferus asks in shock.
“Someone. . . Someone else touched you.”
Ferus looks at him in horror, a loss for words.
“I thought you were only for me.” Roan’s devastation is evident. “I can’t believe you did this. How could you have done this?”
“I didn’t.” Ferus rapidly shakes his head. “No, Roan, it wasn’t. . . That was before. I thought you were gone.”
“I was captured,” Roan corrects harshly. “By the Empire. Remember? You escaped first, but I thought you’d wait for me? I thought I was your only one,” he adds sadly.
“You are, Roan. You are!”
“Who touched you?” Roan’s question is heated.
Ferus can’t respond, because now, not only does he hear Anakin, he sees him. He sees Obi-Wan, too. They are silent, but they are there, staring at him as if waiting for his answer as well.
“Who are they?!” Roan shouts in surprise.
“You can see them?!” Ferus shrieks.
“Of course I can see them! Why are they in our room?!”
“They—”
Obi-Wan and Anakin are now mysteriously in the bed after having been standing in the doorway.
“Why are they in our bed??!!” Roan hollers furiously.
“Because he loves us.” Anakin’s tone is snarky.
“Anakin!” Ferus fusses.
“Anakin??” Roan questions in disbelief. “As in Anakin Skywalker?? As in Darth Vader? The one who took my life?? Oh, Ferus. . .” Roan covers his disappointed face. “I can’t believe you would do this. I can’t believe you.”
Ferus is losing sight of Roan. He hasn’t risen, but begins to fade away like a dissipating cloud. Ferus tries to get to him, but he’s unable to move. . . Anakin is holding him down.
“Anakin! Let me up! Let me go– Roan, wait!!”
“Roan shouldn’t be here,” Anakin explains eerily. “He’s going where he’s supposed to go – away. You don’t need him anymore. You have us.”
“I need him, too!” Ferus cries.
“Forget about him,” Anakin pushes.
“NO! I won’t! Not ever! How dare you try to make me! Get out! GET OUT OF OUR ROOM!!”
Ferus’ eyes spring open, his body in a cold sweat. He looks at the clock; it’s still about an hour before sunrise.
Anakin is draped over him; Ferus resists his post nightmare instinct to shove him off.
It was just a dream.
Anakin wouldn’t do that. Anakin wouldn’t be so cruel. . . Then again. . .
Ferus has to get up. He has to get out of this bed. He slides out from underneath Anakin, tumbles off the mattress, then darts for the ‘fresher. . . more urgently than before. He drops to his knees and empties the contents of his anxiety-ridden stomach.
His body gives as he falls back against an adjacent wall, long legs sprawled out in front of him. He holds a clammy, shaky hand to his pale face, and sucks back tears. His conflicted mind is too tired to even work through the details of it now, but Ferus knows he has a serious problem.
“Fess?”
Ferus hears Anakin at the door. Part of him desperately wants the comfort that awaits on the other side of it. . . Part of him doesn’t.
The sick, reeling feeling returning, Ferus gags and vomits again.
“Oh, Force!” Anakin has let himself into the refresher and is kneeling on the floor at Ferus’ side.
Ferus can’t even look at him. Mentally, he’s tormented. Physically, he’s embarrassed. But Anakin’s durasteel hand is a mercy to the heat radiating from his sweltering skin.
“What do you need?” Anakin asks helplessly.
“I’m fine,” Ferus croaks.
“Water? Towel?” Anakin moves to retrieve the latter.
“I can get it; I can get up.” Ferus does. He moves to the wash basin, wets his face, and rinses out his mouth. When he’s done, he doesn’t move, but just stares down at the bowl.
“Hey.” Anakin’s arm wraps around Ferus’ shoulders. He hears him whimper and sniffle. Anakin pulls him in an embrace. “It’s okay. I’m here,” Anakin avows.
And that is the problem.
But Ferus doesn’t have the strength to work through that problem right now. He lets his head fall to Anakin’s shoulder.
“What can I do?” Anakin offers again.
“Nothing. I just want to lie down. I really don’t feel well.” And that is the truth.
“Do you have anything you can take? I can get it for you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Ferus insists. “It’s probably just a bout of motion sickness. . . leftover from the flight.”
Anakin isn’t sure he’s buying it. He doesn’t recall Ferus ever having issues with motion sickness from flights.
“I just need to lie down,” Ferus reiterates before Anakin can probe.
“Back in the bed?” Anakin clarifies softly.
Ferus nods miserably.
Anakin walks him into the room. “Here, you get in the middle this time,” he proposes considerately.
Ferus follow instructions and find himself automatically latching onto Obi-Wan, causing him to stir.
“Ferus?” Obi-Wan sounds groggy.
“He needs you, Master.” Anakin interlocks with Ferus from behind.
Obi-Wan cradles him close, whispering reassurances as Ferus further burrows to his side.
For the moment, Ferus is soothed. He’ll sleep now. He’ll put his woes to rest. . . until sunrise. . .
Notes:
Boy Pile!!! That was what artist, Milk Cioccolato called the glorious art featured in this chapter 🔥 Sure, things just went to shit 😅 but BEFORE that. . . Omg 🥰😍💖 This is the second time I had the pleasure of working with Milky, and once again, I am more than thrilled. Have you ever seen such tenderness!? Obi-Wan 🥹 So strong, yet so gentle. So protective, and so pretty! And hairy! 😍 His smile makes me want to cry. He loves these boys very much ❤️ Ferus is spent poor baby lol. But he is right where he wants to be - all splotchy-chested with that vice-like leg 😏 And sweet Anakin. . . Sighhhhh 🥰 I am always so thankful when an artist understands my post Mustafar beauty agenda ❤️ His wittle stockings 🥹 His wittle sack 🤭😆
Go visit Milky's socials! insta tumblr twitter bluesky You will see the most expressive faces and compelling body language! Gripping story-telling all on its own 🔥Thank you, Milky! We bow down to you! 🙌🏻Thank you so much for reading ❤️ Another three week period in between chapters 😔 There is just SO much going on irl, and it ain't good stuff, unfortunately. If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider letting me know; it would surely be uplifting 🤗 I appreciate you 😘
Update: I think there’s a problem with the art showing up this morning 😫 You can view it here if you can’t see it in the text 😕
Chapter 28
Notes:
I just did some quick math, and combined, I’ve posted just over 100 chapters here on ao3. . . And out of those 100, I cried while editing less than a handful. . . I cried while editing this one. Sooo, content warning I guess. . .
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Obi-Wan is first to rise post daybreak. He is satisfied in seeing Ferus still fast asleep, knowing he’d had a restless night – they all had, really, and returning to Bellassa well after midnight hadn’t improved matters.
Obi-Wan can’t help but feel a wave of trepidation as he looks at the two snoozing sweethearts, Ferus flat on his back, Anakin coiled up in a ball beside him. Despite Ferus’ insistence that he doesn’t want to talk, Obi-Wan has a feeling tough conversations are ahead.
In hopes to get the day off on the right foot, Obi-Wan decides to prepare a more hearty breakfast for the three of them. He hopes today will be quiet and rejuvenating, but can’t shake his sense of foreboding.
He gathers tools and ingredients – skillets and spatulas, and uncooked tailring bacon and flapjack starch. He moves to the stove, then moves back. He eyes his holopad in the den, and steps out of the kitchen to retrieve it.
Obi-Wan had deemed their mission on Bakura a complete success; they’d gotten Luminara to safety, most importantly, and they’d tied up every loose end as far as communications, security recordings, and tracking devices. There should be no trace of their presence on the industrial planet, but Obi-Wan feels the need to make sure there is nothing being reported in the holonews – just in case.
While he sees nothing scandalous about the polystarch mills or Jedi fugitives on the run, there is something else that knocks the wind out of him.
In the bedroom, Ferus awakes with a pounding headache and a scratchy throat. He recalls the last several hours, and wants to hurl all over again. Anxiety wells up in his chest; he sees Anakin out of the corner of his eye and sighs. Shamefully, he feels. . . different. None of this is Anakin’s fault, and he certainly can’t be held responsible for the way he was portrayed in Ferus’ nightmare, but even so. . .
Their most recent morning routine would call for Ferus to be fawning all over Anakin about now. . . caressing his shoulder or stroking his cheek as his babydoll catches his last few moments of sleep. Instead, Ferus gets out of bed without a glance or a touch. But he hesitates as he’s leaving the room. He takes several steps in reverse, better secures the blankets around Anakin, then leans in for the standard forehead kiss. . . but stops short. Fighting defeat-filled tears, he blows out a breath and makes his exit.
Ferus is puzzled when entering a vacant kitchen. He’d gotten accustomed to finding Obi-Wan there when he wakes. The space is currently primed for food prep. . . Why had Obi-Wan abandoned his task? Where was he?
Ferus moves to the living room – empty. . . Refresher – unoccupied. Something is off. Something is wrong. Heart fast-pumping, Ferus heads outdoors.
There is a side area of the dwelling that is well hidden from any passerby, the exterior wall having an odd, obscure angle, while also being shaded by a tree. This is where Ferus finds Obi-Wan, cowered over a holopad with distress upon his face. Ferus knows he isn’t going to like what he’s about to hear. “What’s wrong?” he asks dreadfully. “Bakura?”
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m so sorry to have to burden you with this after the difficult night you’ve had.”
“What?” Ferus is sharp. “Tell me.”
“It’s out,” Obi-Wan reveals hushed.
“What’s out?”
“HoloNet reports, Lord Vader has gone missing. It’s top story; the entire galaxy would’ve heard by now.”
“What?? How? We were sure Palpatine wouldn’t want anyone to know.”
“The report isn’t coming from him.”
“Who is it coming from? Someone credible?”
“Hard to say. Her name is Fania Hallum. She was a nurse employed by the Empire – one who’d tended to Vader in the past, and clearly held an inappropriate infatuation with him,” Obi-Wan bites out in irritation. “She does seem a little. . . looney, but she knows Vader’s routine, and she’s come forward out of concern for him; she was terminated from her position when she was caught snooping around the Emperor’s office, looking for information on Ana- Vader's whereabouts.”
“Do any of the reports suggests where he might be?”
“Not that I’ve seen, but I don’t know if this woman will continue to pursue her search, or what she wants, but this may trigger others to be on the lookout. Now that it has been brought to public attention, it will cause people to reflect on the last time they’ve seen Vader, or heard about him in the news, and they’ll realize it’s been a while.”
“But no one knows it was Anakin in that suit. Right? Zan Arbor didn’t even know; this random nurse couldn’t possibly have known, right?”
“I really don’t know. But what I do know – what I believe will happen, is that Palpatine will amp up his own hunt. You were right before – he wouldn’t want word to spread that he’s short-staffed. Vader helped instill fear, and he can’t afford to have the foundation of that fear shaken. He’ll want to find Anakin and produce him as proof that this woman’s claims are false.” Obi-Wan sees the panic setting in. This is the last thing Ferus needs right now. “We’ll be safe here. We’ll protect him; we won’t let him out of our sights.”
“Protect him how?” Ferus counters in agitation. “You and me against a fleet of stormtroopers, Inquisitors, and Force knows what else?”
“We’ll do our best to remain hidden; we’ll be on guard, but I think we’ll need to tell Anakin. . . something. I’m debating how much detail he needs.”
Ferus wants to scream, but he knows Obi-Wan isn’t wrong. “We tell him the Empire is on a manhunt, and we need to be extra cautious,” he dictates.
“He’ll want to know who they’re hunting for, and in the off chance that he is sniffed out. . . we need him to be prepared.”
Ferus shakes his head. “No, we can’t. We can’t tell him.”
“I think we have to, love. I think it’s time.”
“He’ll never believe it – I still don’t believe it myself at times!”
“Perhaps if we omit his fall. We can tell him he’d been captured – taken prisoner and made to do the Emperor’s bidding. . . It’s not as if that’s very different from the truth.”
Ferus involuntarily scoffs. “That is different from the truth! You say that as if he was made to kill Roan!” he shouts passionately.
Obi-Wan tenses.
“I’m sorry,” Ferus grumbles automatically.
“Don’t be. You’re right,” Obi-Wan concedes with delicacy. “Anakin made his choices. . . It seems I will never not make excuses for him. I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”
Ferus doesn’t respond; he honestly doesn’t know what to say. His is still trying to process what took place last night – the sex – the dream. He’s still so tired, and frustrated and conflicted, and now Anakin is in danger. . . But suddenly, Ferus finds himself astoundingly annoyed that he even cares enough for this to be his problem. How had he let this become his problem? How could he have let himself fall for Anakin after what he’d done? How could he have dismissed it all?
Anakin killed his beloved Roan.
Anakin.
Anakin did it.
Anakin chose to be Vader. He chose to be a murderer. Suddenly, it’s all too much.
Obi-Wan can see the inward spiral. He can’t imagine the tornado of thoughts swirling Ferus’ mind at the present. “Ferus.” He claps a hand to his arm to ground him.
Ferus abruptly jerks away, turns his back on Obi-Wan, and stalks into the house. He doesn’t know where he’s going or what he plans to do, but just as he crosses the threshold, he bumps right into Anakin.
“Hey,” Anakin starts tenderly. “There you are. Are you feeling better?” But the stress on Ferus’ face is instantly interpreted.
Ferus stands silent in front of Anakin. . . seething. He closes his eyes. . . fuming. He can’t just walk away, but if he speaks. . .
Concerned, Anakin reaches for him, fingertips barely grazing his cheek.
“Don’t touch me,” Ferus growls, pulling away. “DON’T!”
“Fess, what’s wrong? What happened??” Anakin frets.
“YOU happened!” Ferus’ voice is severe, and aggressive. He snaps, “You took him from me! You took him from me, and you just keep taking; you think you can make me forget him! You think you can replace him! You won’t!” Ferus yells. “Just stay away from me – away from US!”
Obi-Wan comes in just in time to catch Ferus’ outburst. His heart shatters as he watches confusion overtake Anakin’s face. He wants to rush to his aid, but he stands there, frozen – helpless. There’s no use in interfering; the truth will come out now.
Anakin stutters, “Ferus. . . Wha—?”
Ferus’ lockbox of lies has been expelled from its desolate hiding place – cracked wide open without the use of the key, causing a detonation of all the harsh secrets and opinions he’d wanted to reveal to Anakin from the very start, “It doesn’t even matter that you don’t remember what you’ve done; you’re liable to do it all again anyway! You’re selfish, and you’re never going to change! You think you can do whatever you want to do – you think you can force everyone to bend to your will, and if they don’t, you KILL them! You KILLED him! You killed Roan!” Ferus isn’t angry anymore; he’s broken. His formerly clinched fists are now open, arms hanging limp at his side, his defiant chin repositioned to his chest. He sobs. He breezes past Anakin and into the master bedroom, powerfully pounding the control panel that seals the door.
Anakin gawks at Obi-Wan. At a loss, he’s trying to comprehend everything Ferus has just said. Here is something he’d long feared – that he was somehow connected to Roan’s death, but ‘killed him?’ The phrasing sounds so vindictive – malicious. It couldn’t possibly be true. . . But the look on Obi-Wan’s face isn’t very reassuring. It’s the look he gets when Anakin has just been scolded by the Council and even his Master can’t defend him. . . because he has messed up. It’s the look that says, ‘I love you, but I can’t help you.’ But Anakin needs help this time; he needs help to understand. “Is. . . is that true? Did I kill Roan?”
The question is direct, but the response Obi-Wan wants to give is loaded. What can he say in the moment to appease, but not bend the truth? Obi-Wan is quiet. . . for too long.
Anakin swallows hard, and his voice quakes, “I killed Ferus’ husband??”
“Baby, listen—”
“It’s a yes or no question, Obi-Wan,” Anakin reminds frantically. “And I. . . I think I already know the answer.” His eyes fill with tears. In the last two weeks alone, nearly all of Anakin’s questions in regards to his lost seven years had fallen away, shadowed by the bliss of making a life and a home with Ferus and Obi-Wan, but the past had come back to haunt him; Anakin shouldn’t have let up. And while he wants to demand his Master finally come clean about everything, Anakin knows Ferus needs Obi-Wan more than he does right now. “G-go check on him,” he directs shakily. “Go make sure he’s all right,” he pleads.
Obi-Wan knows Ferus is not all right, and that he hasn’t been for a long while, but he’s torn in leaving Anakin to himself after such a shocking revelation. He remains in place. His bottom lip flops open while his brain searches for the right words.
“Please!” Anakin begs emotionally. “He doesn’t want me, but he needs— Please go make sure he’s okay!”
“He does want you,” Obi-Wan reassures, hands finally coming in contact with his Padawan. “I know he does; he loves you. He’s had a hard night and a rough morning. I promise everything’s going to be okay.” He frames Anakin’s face. “We’ll get through this, all right?”
Anakin sniffles. Then, it’s confirmed that there is something to ‘get through.’ He’d done something terrible – something he doesn’t think they will get through. He wordlessly nods as Obi-Wan squeezes his shoulder, then heads to the bedroom.
Obi-Wan doesn’t knock this time, but lets himself behind the closed door. He doesn’t immediately see Ferus, but hears his cries. He finds the young widower on the floor, on the opposite side of the bed – his once sanctuary and safe space now tainted, and stained with pain. . . Pain caused by Anakin.
Obi-Wan sits close to him and pulls him into his arms. Ferus doesn’t hug him back, but isn’t resistant to his affections. Obi-Wan puts his cheek to the top of his head and soothingly strokes his back, quiet, and patient, waiting for Ferus to speak whenever he may be ready. When he finally forms words, his crying makes them almost impossible to decipher.
“Where is he?” Ferus blubbers.
“He’s right outside,” Obi-Wan lulls. Of course Ferus would first ask about Anakin; he knows how much Ferus cares for him despite what had just taken place. It was a moment of weakness – a moment of supreme grief, showing itself in the form of hostility, because it is sometimes easier to feel anger rather than despair. Obi-Wan could pinpoint the moment that anger had left him, left him to instead hurt, but also left him full of guilt.
“I’m sorry,” Ferus hiccups.
“It’s all right,” Obi-Wan affirms. “He’s okay; he’ll be okay,” he ensures. “He sent me in to see about you.”
Ferus doesn’t only feel remorse for what he’s just put Anakin through, but for putting Obi-Wan through it, too. “I’m sorry,” he whimpers again.
“We’ll make it right,” Obi-Wan pacifies. “I know it was unsettling to learn of this morning’s reports.” He continues cautiously, “But I also know there’s a lot more to it than that. . . I know you’ve said you don’t want to talk, but I think it imperative that you tell me a little bit more about what you’re feeling before we try to have this conversation with Anakin.” Ferus’ cries become even more broken-hearted than before; Obi-Wan wraps him tighter in his embrace. “I love you, my darling, but if you weren’t ready to say that to me, that’s okay.”
“No,” Ferus bawls. “I do,” he sputters. “I love you. . . It’s just. . .” There is much to address – an overwhelming amount. “I had a dream,” Ferus blurts out first. “Roan. . .” His weeping halts his explanation.
Obi-Wan tries to help him along, “A dream about Roan,” he recaps sensitively. “I know you’re missing him, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” His fingers remain lightly tickling Ferus’ back.
“I am,” Ferus snivels. “I am missing him, but we were together in my dream. . . but Anakin. . . he was there, too.” A choked sounds escapes his throat.
“This wasn’t a happy dream,” Obi-Wan surmises, and feels Ferus’ head shake in the negative into his chest. He can only imagine how the nightmare had ended. Ferus had likely been forced to relive his husband’s death, and probably not for the first time; Obi-Wan knows a thing or two about having Vader terrorize pleasant dreams. . . But then he remembers something Ferus had earlier expressed in his bout of pain, “What you told Anakin before – that you wouldn’t be made to forget Roan, that he wouldn’t replace him. . . Is that what happened in your dream?”
When Ferus wails, Obi-Wan knows he is correct in his assumption. The root of Ferus’ struggle is in having feelings for someone else besides his husband. Once more, guilt comes into play on top of his heighted grief.
Ferus has pulled away from him now, hunched over on his knees and crying into his hands. Obi-Wan moves nearer to him, but does not touch him. “Anakin doesn’t want you to forget him,” he promises carefully. “And neither do I.”
“But maybe I want to forget him!!” Ferus suddenly screeches. “Because it hurts too fucking much!” Oh, and to admit that out loud. What an awful thing to say. What an awful way to feel. . . after Roan had given him so much. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” Ferus screams in anguish.
Obi-Wan feels the emotional pain like a physical element. “Nothing’s wrong with you,” he defends ardently. “You’re grieving. It’s understandable that the reminders of what you lost are too much to bear for the moment. Give yourself time, and give yourself compassion. This gaping wound will inarguably leave a scar, but you can heal, and someday, you’ll be able to think of him and it won’t hurt so terribly.” Itching to touch him again, Obi-Wan makes a single pass through Ferus’ dark, silky hair, and with the utmost gentleness, he simplifies, and he absolves, “It’s okay if you have to lock him away in your heart right now. He’ll still be there when you’re ready; I promise he won’t leave you.”
Ferus crumbles, face now smashed into the floor, letting himself cry in a way he never has since he and Roan had said goodbye. The heartache pours out of him, and it hurts – it’s excruciating, to acknowledge just how much he misses Roan, and to be confronted with the mess he’s made by holding onto the hurt.
Obi-Wan begins weeping along with Ferus. “I may be biased,” he starts shaky. “But I think you are doing right in letting yourself love someone else.” He swallows hard. “And Anakin. . . He is wonderful for that.” Obi-Wan pauses, but forces himself to choke out the rest, “For so long, I wouldn’t let myself think of Qui-Gon after I lost him, but like you, I fixated on Anakin – I loved Anakin, and because of that, my heart remained intact, and the memory of my Master safely inside. Without Anakin, I fear my heart may have shriveled up and died. To continue to love keeps us alive – it keeps us from dying along with the one we lost.”
Ferus is still down, forehead to the ground as he sobs. Is it true what Obi-Wan is saying? Could he dare to hope that Roan isn’t fading away, but preserved in his heart?
“When I lost Anakin,” Obi-Wan sucks back tears. “I didn’t have anyone to keep my heart from the collapse. Luke was a comfort, but from afar; I literally couldn’t get close to him – couldn’t love him how I would’ve liked. But when I heard your name in the tavern that day, I felt a spark – a defibrillation. And when I saw you again, you breathed life back into me, and for the first time in a year, I felt like I could be okay. And I didn’t think I could be more thankful to you for that, but then you surprised me,” Obi-Wan sniffles with a chuckle. “You gave me back my whole heart and you took the other half of it.”
Ferus jolts upright and into Obi-Wan’s embrace. The hurt remains dispersing, but the pressure has been released. “I love you,” he professes into Obi-Wan’s neck.
“I love you, too.” Obi-Wan grips him tight.
Acceptance washes over Ferus. His broken heart still beats; it’s alive – he’s alive, and the pain he feels is proof of that – the love he feels is proof of that. And if Obi-Wan is right, if his love for Anakin is somehow keeping his love for Roan alive, then combined with his love for Obi-Wan. . . Ferus never has to worry about forgetting the man he loved first – the man he'll always love, and always had loved, even while trying to cope in his traumatic lockdown.
Ferus can’t yet take satisfaction in his breakthrough, because Anakin isn’t here for it. And Anakin will soon have to reconcile his own form of grief, and Ferus is filled with regret for being the one to prompt it in such a devastating way. “I really messed up,” he snivels.
Obi-Wan lets out a deep exhale, still with a strong hold on Ferus. “No matter how gently we would’ve presented the truth, the outcome would’ve been the same; it won’t be easy, but we’ll help him through it.”
“I shouldn’t have yelled at him,” Ferus chastises himself.
“He knows you’re having a tough time right now. I don’t think that part will be difficult for him to understand; he won’t be upset with you.”
“I just don’t want him to be upset with himself.”
“I. . .” Obi-Wan sighs once more. “Sadly, I believe that’s inevitable.”
“I need him,” Ferus decides. “Right now. I need him.” He hates that Anakin has been alone for even this short while.
“Are you sure you’re ready to talk? Why don’t I go see about him first?”
“No.” Ferus wipes at his face and stands. “It doesn’t even matter if either of us is ready to talk. I just need to hold him.”
“I can understand that.” Obi-Wan’s smile is genuine, but there is sorrow behind his eyes.
Ferus rushes to the door and swishes it open, where his sights set upon Anakin; he is on the floor, knees in his chest, back against the parallel wall. He peers up at Ferus, his eyes large, worried, and tear-stained.
Ferus sinks down beside him and attempts to draw him in, but Anakin is dead weight, a disheartened, immovable rock. “I’m so sorry,” Ferus begins, trying to line up Anakin’s face with his own.
Obi-Wan squats on the other side of Anakin and places a hand on his ankle, while Ferus continues offering apologies.
“I’m so sorry, Anakin; I didn’t mean any of it,” Ferus vows. “I’m not mad at you, and I don’t want you to go anywhere. I need you, and I love you.”
Anakin sniffles, but can’t find his voice. He doesn’t understand why Ferus is apologizing to him if what he’d said is true.
“Sorry,” Ferus is still chanting, petting Anakin’s hair and pressing his lips to his brow.
“Why?” Anakin suddenly questions with much emotion behind the word. “Why are you sorry if— if I. . . I need to know why!” he shouts. “Tell me why you’re sorry if I killed your husband!” He can’t help but break down; he wants to hang his head, but he looks to Obi-Wan instead. “Tell me,” he gets out wrecked. “Why would I do such a thing, Master? Why? Why would I do that to Roan?”
Obi-Wan’s eyes burn with tears. Just how much of this terrible truth can Anakin handle right now? How much can his lungs sustain when he undoubtedly continues to cry? “Come.” He offers a hand for Anakin to stand. Ferus rises and assists in getting him on his feet as well, the prosthetics not easily straightened from the cramped position on the ground.
Obi-Wan and Ferus guide him to the kitchen, and sit him down at the table.
Anakin is trembling. He’s trying to understand how Ferus can be so calm after having been so angry with him. He’d assumed Ferus had just discovered the details of Roan’s death, but now he is thinking both he and Obi-Wan had known about this all along. They’d always kept him sheltered, never letting him near a holo device unsupervised, never letting him go out on his own. They’d always been vague when Anakin would ask about his past. . . He hadn’t imagined those lost seven years could be any worse than they’d already described, but the way Ferus is stalling provides evidence that they had been.
Ferus holds Anakin’s wet cheek and dabs at stray tears. He kisses his brow again.
“Ferus,” Anakin pouts.
And Ferus knows he can’t put this off any longer. He takes Anakin’s synth-flesh hand.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Anakin cries. “Did I kill Roan? Yes or no.”
“It’s not that simple,” Ferus reasons.
“It IS that simple! Why can’t either of you give me a straight answer?! Did I do it or not?!”
Ferus and Obi-Wan lock eyes for a second. “You-you. . . did,” Ferus admits, and Anakin is already sobbing before he can elaborate further. He lifts Anakin’s chin. “Hold on, babydoll, listen to me. It’s okay.”
“How is it okay?! Why don’t you hate me?! Everything you said before – I should get out of your life!”
“That’s not what I want,” Ferus insists.
“Obi-Wan, you knew about this,” Anakin accuses distraught. “How did. . . ? When. . . ? Why? Why did I do it?”
When Anakin starts huffing violently, Ferus looks at Obi-Wan frantic.
“You weren’t yourself, sweetheart. You weren’t thinking clearly,” Obi-Wan advises.
“You mean, it wasn’t like, an accident? Like, I did it on purpose??” Anakin grasps at his quick-moving chest.
“Anakin, please,” Ferus begs. “Please take a breath. Remember, I’m not upset with you. Think about what that means, and take a breath. It wasn’t your fault.”
Anakin processes this. He wants so badly to understand. It would be much easier if he could just remember for himself. He inhales with Ferus in time, and they exhale together more slowly.
Obi-Wan takes Anakin’s mechno hand in his now, trying to determine where they should begin. With Palpatine and the purge? With Roan’s death and work backwards? He’s running out of time to decide.
“How was I not myself?” Anakin questions tearfully. “And when? You were there, Obi-Wan?”
“I wasn’t there when Roan passed, but I was there when this all began – about a year and a half ago,” Obi-Wan reluctantly eases into the story. “But looking back, I know you were struggling before then.”
Anakin focuses on his breathing as he absorbs this, still holding a beloved hand in each of his.
“The war,” Obi-Wan acknowledges solemnly. “You were only nineteen when the war began, and that was an extremely trying time for the both of us.”
“What did I do?” Anakin whimpers. He’s wanted a detailed recount for so long, but now he wants to skip to the most crucial facts.
“In truth, I don’t know exactly what happened, baby, but I will tell you what I do know, and something that you already know. . . that you were close to Palpatine; he was your friend.”
“I swear I didn’t know he was the Sith!” Anakin blurts in defense.
“I know, love,” Obi-Wan placates. “I know you didn’t know at seventeen, but somewhere along the way, you must’ve found out, and I believe it was much later – at the very end of the war; that was when things abruptly changed.”
“I changed,” Anakin clarifies. “You said I wasn’t myself. How was I not myself?” He is growing increasingly desperate for the explanation now.
“At the end of the war, when the Jedi fell. . .” Cold sweat drips down Obi-Wan’s back as he envisions the once-seen holorecording of his precious apprentice storming the Temple. He’d never wanted Anakin to know, but it is the most informative way to paint the picture, “You fought with the clone troopers – against the Jedi.”
“No,” Anakin sobs. “Why would I do that?!”
“That’s what I don’t know, baby.”
“The Chancellor,” Anakin rasps. “He sent the clones after the Jedi. He sent me, too?? I— I killed Jedi? Was I. . . ? Was I a Sith, too??” Ragged breathing makes a reappearance.
“That’s not who you are – whatever you were, that’s not who you are now,” Obi-Wan rushes the words before Anakin’s heartrate can climb too quickly.
“But I was.” Anakin is frustrated and upset that neither of them will confirm it. “Say it! Say I was a Sith, if I was! Say it!”
Obi-Wan can’t say it. He is weeping far too heavily now.
“Say it,” Anakin pleads brokenly. “Ferus, say it,” he begs in hysterics.
Tears streak over Ferus’ cheeks. He holds Anakin’s face between his palms. “You. . . were,” he confirms with sadness. “But you’re not now,” he adds quickly. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Anakin wrestles his shaking head from Ferus’ hold.
Ferus persists, attempting to clasp him by the cheek once more. “I love you; I fell in love with you – my Anakin. You aren’t that person anymore – you never were; you don’t remember living that life – you walk a completely different path.”
“But how did I even get on that other path?” Anakin turns to his melancholic Master. “What happened to us, Obi-Wan? How could I have turned against you?”
Obi-Wan has asked himself that question many, many times. He does not have the answer.
“We fought in the war together,” Anakin rambles, trying to make sense of it for himself. “We were the heroes. That’s what Trever said. That’s what Ahsoka said. Ferus, too! How could I have turned if we were together?”
Obi-Wan musters the will to speak, “That’s just it, sweetheart; we weren’t together – not when it happened.”
“Where were you?” Anakin blubbers.
Obi-Wan wipes Anakin’s face with his sleeve, neglecting his own. “The war pulled us in many directions, and sometimes pulled us apart.”
“How long? How long were we apart?”
Obi-Wan takes in a breath. “Not long. . .”
Anakin expectantly searches his face. “Tell me, Obi-Wan.”
“Oh, baby,” Obi-Wan cries.
“I need to know,” Anakin struggles through tears.
“I know,” Obi-Wan agrees quietly. “I know you do.” He fights to compose himself and gives Anakin a moment to do the same. “My final mission was on Utapau,” he informs slowly. “We were together before I left, and we had been for months. When I was leaving, you told me you wanted to come with me, and I wanted you with me as well,” Obi-Wan promises. He pauses to wipe more of Anakin’s fresh tears. “But you were to stay behind for your own mission. . . to keep tabs on the Chancellor.” He watches Anakin’s lip quiver. “You and I parted on good terms – great terms, really, but when I returned to Coruscant. . .”
“When you returned, what??” Anakin asks mortified.
“You weren’t the same. Something happened.”
“So, you were gone, what? A few days??”
“Yes, it was only a few rotations.”
“Then, how?!” Anakin exclaims, forcibly sliding his chair back from the table. “No, this isn’t right! This doesn’t make any sense!”
Obi-Wan scoots his seat back with him, reestablishing their physical link. He does his best to sound soothing, “I know. I know, love, but that’s what happened.”
“You saw me? You talked to me?? What did I say?”
Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes shut. “Yes,” he pushes out. “I saw you. We spoke. . . You told me your point of view had changed, and you felt the Jedi were the enemy, and you could bring peace with the Empire. You spoke of the dark side. . . ” Obi-Wan doesn’t continue, because Anakin is bawling. . . And if he keeps going, he’ll have to confess to both Anakin and Ferus that he is responsible for Anakin’s injuries. Obi-Wan knows this isn’t a truth Anakin can handle for now with the way things have been progressing thus far.
“So, it’s true! I was using the dark side; it wasn’t as if it was some sort of mind control like the troops!” In his array of rapidly circulating thoughts, Anakin had allowed himself a miniscule slither of hope that there had been a chip implanted in his brain as well, even knowing those chips had been placed into the minds of the clones in the very early stages of existence. That hope was obliterated now. . . It was the dark side; somehow he had let it take him – take him away from his Master.
Obi-Wan eyes Ferus dubiously. “You were certainly manipulated, misinformed, and I believe, afraid.”
“Afraid of what?! The only thing that should’ve scared me was losing you!”
“Palpatine—”
“Stop saying his name! Stop!”
Ferus had shifted his chair near to Anakin as well. He supportively interlocks their fingers again, and Anakin meets his gaze.
“What about, Roan?” Anakin laments. “How did that happen? You said he died just before you found me. Did you know I killed him when you found me? Did you know I was a Sith?”
“I knew,” Ferus confesses.
“Which part?!”
“All of it.” Tears rain down. “I was there when Roan died,” Ferus painfully confesses. “He died in my arms.”
“You were there when I killed him?” Anakin squawks in disbelief. “Why did I kill him?!”
“Because we fought on opposite sides.” Ferus’ statement is succinct, and ironically kind.
“So, it’s like you said before,” Anakin bawls. “I just murdered anyone who got in my way. . . because I was a Sith. . . and I’m selfish – and I’m liable to do it again!” Anakin urgently ejects from his seat. Everything Ferus had said before adds up now.
Ferus and Obi-Wan hastily rise with him, but Anakin’s arms are stretched out in warning for them to keep their distance.
“And now what?!” Anakin yells. “I kill your husband, and what? You love me?? How can you say that? How can either of you say that?!”
“Baby, we do love you,” Obi-Wan tries to console. “When your memory was wiped, you lost sight of that side of yourself, and you– you’ve changed so much.”
“It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t change the past!”
“No, it doesn’t, but you, who you are right now – you had no control over the choices Vader made.”
“Vader?” Anakin spits.
Obi-Wan mutters a curse.
“That was my name? I changed my name?”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan says sternly. “Because you weren’t Anakin.”
“But Anakin chose to be Vader, and I’m still that man. I can still make that same choice, just like Ferus said.”
“I don’t believe that,” Ferus refutes, grabbing him by the wrist. “Anakin, I’m so sorry I said all those horrible things. It was all out of misplaced anger, because I had been foolishly bottling up my grief; that’s not the way I feel at all. And I know you won’t make that same choice. That evil man is not getting near you, for one, and you don’t remember the war, and you don’t remember the hardships you faced during that time. Those are the things that drove you to make the decision you did.”
“I may not be a Sith now, but that doesn’t change that I was. You’re acting as if I’m just supposed to forget it because I can’t remember it – pretend like it didn’t happen, like you and Obi-Wan have been doing. I won’t! I won’t forget! A person is dead because of me! A person you loved! How many more people did I kill that I don’t remember killing? That doesn’t make it okay!” Anakin shouts in agony. “I can’t ask you to stick by me, to take care of me.”
“You didn’t ask, and you didn’t have to.” Ferus cradles Anakin’s hand in both of his now. “We don’t take care of you because we feel we have to, we do it because we love you.” His emotions boil over. “I didn’t choose to love you, but I do – for everything you are; I don’t care what you were.”
“Yes, you do, Ferus. You do care! You’ve been bottling up more than your grief – and when that came out, so did your true feelings about me! And you are justified in everything you said to me; I don’t blame you one bit for going off on me – I don’t know how you’ve kept this from me all this time!”
“Because I love you,” Ferus stresses with a little firmness in his voice. “And I never want you to hurt the way you are now!”
“But how many people have I hurt? How many people have I killed?” When Anakin sees Ferus’ face contort, he knows there are others, and he explodes. “Tell me how many lives I destroyed as a karking Sith! Tell me, Obi-Wan!!” he screams.
Obi-Wan tries to secure an arm around him. “Baby, it’s okay—”
“NO, IT’S NOT!” Anakin wails, fighting off the affection he knows he doesn’t deserve. “Get away!”
Obi-Wan doesn’t let up; he pins Anakin’s arms to his side and uses his embrace as a binder.
Anakin struggles to get free. “GET AWAY FROM ME! Let me go, Obi-Wan, let me GO!”
Obi-Wan shushes him as Anakin continues to thrash, a devasted Ferus looking on with a hand covering his mouth.
“I can’t stay here!” Anakin shrieks. “NO! LET ME GO!! I WANNA GO!”
Obi-Wan continues to whisper to him as Anakin begins wearing down. “We need you to stay,” he coaches softly. “Please stay.” He coaxes Anakin’s head to his shoulder, holding the back of his neck in place, opposite arm still firmly clutched around him.
“I can’t stay,” Anakin blubbers. “Nooo. No!” he whines, and makes one last attempt to break away, then becomes exasperated when he cannot. “WHY??!” he hollers in an ear-splitting tone.
Obi-Wan is rocking him now, Ferus crying quietly from the sidelines. This hadn’t needed to be so terrible; he’d made it so much worse for Anakin in revealing it the way he had.
“Whyyy?” Anakin moans. “Why didn’t you just let me die? You should’ve just let me die,” he weeps miserably.
Ferus screws his eyes shut, knowing that was meant for him.
But Obi-Wan knows the statement could’ve easily been directed at him as well. . . But Anakin doesn’t remember. . . and Ferus doesn’t know. They don’t know of Mustafar.
Notes:
There is a comic called Vader - Dark Visions 3 by Dennis Hallum, about an Imperial nurse who is full-on OBSESSED with Vader, keeping cringe-worthy (and gag-worthy) souvenirs, and creeping on him in his hyperbaric chamber. . . Vader does not take too kindly to this, btw 😅
This Imperial nurse wasn't named, but I've always felt her character an exaggerated depiction of us crazed Vader stans. . . fans. . . Which is why I decided she’d be called FANia in this fic lol. And her last name, of course, comes from the comic book's author.Well. It's been a long time coming 😔 but Anakin finally knows about Roan, and he knows about Vader. But there is still so much he is unaware of. Somehow, Obi-Wan and Ferus have GOT to get him through this 😢
Thank you for reading this very heavy chapter 💔 As brutal as it is, it was a favorite of mine to write, and I like the timing of its release - it coincides with ROTS coming back to theatres this weekend for the 20th anniversary. . . Anakin just got his own ROTS recap 😞 But of course, not all of it. . . Not Mustafar. . .
I'm curious if anyone got emotional on the specific parts that kept making me tear up 🤔 As always, I would love and appreciate your thoughts and feedback! Thanks again 🫂
Chapter 29
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Obi-Wan is able to lead a worn out and relentlessly weeping Anakin into the spare room that holds the bacta tube and a small sleep couch. He is successful in getting him to lie down, but Anakin doesn’t rest, but only wears himself out further by carrying on with his heart-wrenching cries – for hours on end. All the while, Anakin refuses touch, finding bursts of energy to scream at his companions to be left alone.
Obi-Wan and Ferus only partially comply.
They take turns standing quietly in a dark, far corner of the room, watching, hoping, listening for the moment when Anakin’s sobs might be stifled.
The day passes. It is late into the evening now. Anakin is unchanged.
Ferus is in the kitchen, reheating the leftover lunch no one had eaten. He doesn’t imagine the food will be consumed on its second round either. Anakin won’t eat, won’t come out of the room. He won’t sleep. What he will do is wail. . . and hurt. . . and Ferus knows it’s all his fault.
Then, out of nowhere, Ferus hears it: silence.
He whirls around and moves swiftly, but lightly, to the guest room and peers through the doorway; Obi-Wan meets his gaze and motions him over.
“He let me close enough to allow for a distant back rub,” Obi-Wan explains hushed, still with an outstretched arm gliding along Anakin’s back. “Within the first minute, he was out.” Obi-Wan pulls away and lets Ferus take his place.
Ferus hovers over the small bed. He observes Anakin’s swollen and still-wet face, and delicately touches his cheek. . . His own tears fall. He feels his composure rapidly slipping away. He hastily vacates the room; just when he can finally be near to Anakin, Ferus risks waking him.
Obi-Wan lets out a tired and wounded breath. He sweeps Anakin’s hair back and kisses his temple. Now, he spreads a formerly twisted and tangled blanket over him, smoothing it in place. . . One more sweet kiss, and Obi-Wan seeks out Ferus.
He finds him at the dining table, where they had been with Anakin many hours before. Ferus’ head is down, form quaking. He wipes at a constant flow of tears. Obi-Wan moves behind him and places his hands on his shaking shoulders to still them.
“What are we going to do?” Ferus asks through weepy sniffles.
“We’re just going to take it minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. We will wait.”
“And then what?” Ferus bawls. “We break his heart all over again? He’s going to have so many questions, and we’re going to have to tell him – who Vader was, what he’s done. He can’t endure this.”
“He can. He has us.”
“Well, maybe I can’t do this! Maybe I can’t bear to break his heart more than I already have! I’ve already lost Roan; I didn’t want to kill Anakin’s spirit. . . I ruined everything,” Ferus huffs out in defeat.
Obi-Wan kneels beside his chair and lifts Ferus’ chin. The glassy brown eyes meet his own.
“I took away our baby’s happiness,” Ferus laments. “Why did I have to unleash on him like that?”
Obi-Wan draws him in as Ferus slides out of his seat and down to the floor. Obi-Wan cradles him close and kisses the top of his head. He wishes he had something more to offer, but in truth, he isn’t feeling as optimistic as he claims. He is devastated for what Anakin is facing. . . though, he doesn’t blame Ferus; he more blames himself.
Obi-Wan and Anakin had been on Tatooine together for four months. There had been ample opportunity to tell him of his bleak past. But Anakin had been so happy – happier than Obi-Wan had ever seen him, and like Ferus, he hadn’t wanted to be responsible for robbing him of his joy.
But in letting so much time pass with the omission of the truth, he’s done so anyhow; he’d made the blow that much harder. And despite his reassurances to both Ferus and Anakin, Obi-Wan honestly can’t see how they will come out of it.
He tries to fathom how Anakin must be feeling about now. He knows his overwhelmed mind is on a constant, torturous loop, reflecting on all the changes that he’s been told have taken place in his lost years. Obi-Wan tries to imagine what it would be like to be told you’ve done something that you could never envision yourself doing. . . And then his thoughts return to Mustafar, as they often do. . .
Obi-Wan considers the hypothetical scenario of his own mind being wiped, and being informed he’d fought Anakin, hurt him, and left him for dead. It’s inconceivable – even with the knowledge of what had led to that point. It’s hard to take in. . . and it will be hard for Anakin to take in as well. Is it better to get this all out in the open now? Can Anakin endure this? Can Ferus? Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’d be able to accept and forgive what he’s done to their baby.
He runs his fingers through Ferus’ thick, chestnut locks. “We must look forward.” The affirmation is as much for him as it is for Ferus. “We must’ve dwell. What’s done is done, and it cannot be undone.”
“I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan,” Ferus apologizes brokenly for the hundredth time in the last several hours.
“I don’t find any fault in you, love, and I know Anakin doesn’t either. . . It’s all right,” Obi-Wan repeats the honest and gentle pardon he’s held for Ferus each time. He lifts his face again, his stress and fatigue apparent. Obi-Wan kisses his brow. “Why don’t you rest while he is resting, yes?”
“No. I don’t want him to wake up and need me and I’m not there.”
“I’ll be up. And I’ll wake you if he wakes.”
Ferus shakes his head.
Obi-Wan smiles at the stubbornness, knowing he’d respond the same if the suggestion were presented to him. “Okay, what if you rest with him? Make camp on the floor in the room. That will give him his space, but you’ll be right there if he calls for you.”
Ferus snuggles him and exhales. “I don’t know how you always know exactly what to do, and just what to say. . . I know I keep apologizing for what happened this morning, but I haven’t yet thanked you enough for it – for everything you said when I was having my breakdown.”
Obi-Wan reciprocates Ferus’ tighter hold.
“Thank you,” Ferus mumbles in his chest.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
Ferus sits upright as they separate. “I should’ve come to you sooner – one of the many times you offered to talk, and not just because of the mistake I made with Anakin, but because of the clarity you’ve given me. I’m grateful for your wisdom.”
“I don’t know that I have much wisdom, but I do know a bit about having breakdowns. I’ve had my fair share of them in my solitude in the desert. And I suppose I know what to say, because I know what I would’ve wanted to hear when I was all alone in my cave.”
“I’m sorry,” Ferus tells him wholeheartedly. “I’m sorry for what you had to go through, and I’m sorry you went through it alone. I knew you were mourning Anakin, but I never fully understood until. . .”
“I’m sorry to be understood. I never wanted this for you, but I’m thankful you’re letting Anakin and I help you through it, and even while we’re navigating this terribly rough patch, I remain thankful to be here with the two of you. . . A little drama has nothing on loneliness.” There is play in Obi-Wan’s voice as he tries to lighten the mood.
“A little drama?” Ferus almost chuckles. “That’s what you’re gonna call it?”
“That is what I choose to call it. What was it you used to say? ‘No stress.’”
Ferus grins in surprise. He had been very young when he’d gone through his, ‘speak the feelings you seek to hold’ phase. Often stressed, he’d developed the habit of spatting the phrase. How it had annoyed Anakin to no end. . . “Yes, ‘no stress,’” Ferus confirms. “Though, that was rarely a true reflection of how I felt,” he admits.
“Words hold power. Even as a youngling, you were wise enough to see that.”
Ferus’ smile is soft. It had been a good philosophy at times, but he’d ceased with the slogan as he’d gotten older, having gained a confidence, not so much in himself, but in the Order as a whole; the Jedi would always prevail; as long as he was a Jedi, everything would be all right. That blind faith surely felt long lost now. . .
But perhaps it was salvageable.
Ferus reflects on what Obi-Wan had earlier professed. . . ‘Minute by minute.’ And for this minute, Anakin was okay, and that was something to celebrate. It was a step in the right direction, a small step, but progress, nonetheless. Ferus had made a breakthrough in his own grief, and Anakin was capable of the same. Ferus knows there is a hard road ahead, but they do have each other. . . And they have Obi-Wan. . .
“I love you, Obi-Wan.” And that about sums it up.
“I love you, too.”
*
Two rotations have come and gone, and Anakin has not come out of the room. He has not left the sleep couch, and eerily, he has not cried – not made a sound. Anakin does not appear to have any tears or words left, rather has gone numb. He no longer shouts to be left to himself; he lets Obi-Wan and Ferus stay in the room, but flinches and turns away if they try to touch him. . . so, they don’t.
Obi-Wan and Ferus sit with him in the shadowy, sullen room, sometimes together, sometimes taking a turn with Anakin alone. Sometimes they are silent. Sometimes they talk to him, even though they know he won’t respond.
They express their love for him, and remind him of his goodness. Ferus offers additional apologies for his explosive episode, and has vaguely explained his frame of mind in the moments leading up to it. He’s told Anakin of the holonews report and of he and Obi-Wan’s worries over it. He divulges that just before he’d made his own improper reveal, he and Obi-Wan had planned to tell him of his past in a more favorable way. . . and then Ferus tearfully apologizes some more.
Either Obi-Wan or Ferus make sure food is available throughout the day. The two of them may pick at it, but Anakin never does. They periodically offer a shower or a bacta soak, or even just a change of clothes. Anakin wordlessly rejects it all. When they make any sort of suggestion that would require leaving the room, Anakin turns his back to them and hides his face.
And Obi-Wan cannot take it anymore. He doesn’t consider boundaries this time as he squeezes next to his Padawan on the sleep couch. Anakin rolls away from him, and Obi-Wan puts a hand on his shoulder with a touch of resistance. Anakin doesn’t verbally protest, but recoils, arms gathering tightly to his chest.
“Stop it, Anakin. Stop this,” Obi-Wan pleads. “I can’t stand to see you this way.” The words come out stuffy and perturbed. “You won’t talk. You won’t eat. You can’t keep this up.”
Anakin still doesn’t react.
“Please, baby. Please. We don’t need you to magically be all better, but you need to get up, get some food in your system. . .”
The silence persists.
“Anakin, I need to hear your voice. I can’t go another moment without hearing your voice. Please,” Obi-Wan begs shakily. “If nothing else, just let me hold you. Let me touch you. Don’t do this anymore. Please. We need you,” he confesses as he openly begins to cry.
And the outer layer of ice around Anakin melts; he never wants to upset his Master. He rotates his torso and extends a hand to rest on Obi-Wan’s arm. Obi-Wan inches closer to receive him as Anakin springs up and the two lock in an embrace.
Obi-Wan hears Anakin’s cries and feels the tears already collecting on his neck as he clutches the back of his skull. “Don’t shut us out, baby. We want to help you.” The sounds of sobs from both men intensify. “I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, sweetheart,” Obi-Wan blubbers. “I’m so sorry, love. I never want you to hurt. Never. We love you so much, darling.”
Anakin is physically unable to express the same sentiment, though he does love them very much in return. There is a dominant part of him that wants to push Obi-Wan and Ferus away – protect them from the monster that he was, or is, or will be. But for this weak moment, he will allow himself to give into the need to be comforted and held.
From outside of the room, Ferus hears Anakin stirring. He is on his feet, waiting, hoping, listening. Anakin’s complete void of any emotion for the last two rotations has been more worrisome than the crying and shouting from the first. Hearing his cries now, somehow placates Ferus. He edges closer to the room. He wants so badly to enter, but he’ll let Obi-Wan work. He’ll wait.
Ferus hears the request – it’s muffled, but he can make it out; Obi-Wan is trying to coax Anakin out of the room. . .
“Ferus is so worried. You don’t have to talk, but just let him hold you, too. Don’t you want him to hold you, too? . . . Yes, love. We were both scared that morning; there were media reports that suggested the Empire might have been searching for you. Ferus was panicked, and you know he’d had a trying night before that – both of those having to do with his love for you . . . Yes, he talked with me about it a little bit; he’s feeling better now. I’m sure he’ll want to talk with you, too. And I know he’ll want to tell you again, his outburst that morning did not reflect his true feelings for you. He wants you here, love. He’s not upset with you; he’s upset with himself, and I know you don’t want him to feel that way . . . No, I know, you’re our sweet boy. Won’t you come sit with both of us in the living room? We can light the fire – I know you like that. It’s okay if you’re upset or hurting; you take all the time you need, but please let us be there for you. This is all new to you, but we don’t feel any differently. Okay? . . . No, dear one. I love you. Ferus loves you.”
Ferus lets out a breath. He feels his love for Obi-Wan brim in this moment. He’d gotten Anakin to talk. And it sounds like he’s going to come out of the room – that he might let Ferus hold him – that he might actually believe he hadn’t meant what he’d said when he’d lashed out. . .
And then he sees the pair emerge. Anakin’s head is down. Obi-Wan’s arm is tightly wrapped around his waist and their faces are close. Ferus is cautious in his approach, as if he might frighten away a wild animal with a sudden movement or sound.
When Anakin slightly lifts his head, his shameful eyes set upon Ferus, and his pink lips pucker. Ferus takes a step forward as Anakin moves into his space. He closes his arms around him, and the same broken cries from before can be heard once more.
“I’ve got you, babydoll,” Ferus whispers, stroking his nape. “And I’m so sorry.”
“Stop,” Anakin mutters cross.
Ferus waits for an explanation as he continues rubbing his neck.
“Stop apologizing to me. Please, Ferus. I’m begging you.”
“Okay,” Ferus pacifies. “I won’t, then. Whatever you need.”
“I need you to help me understand why you don’t seem to care about what I did – I’m the one who should be apologizing. I killed Roan!”
Ferus is wordless. He doesn’t know if it was Obi-Wan’s intent to jump right back into this taxing discussion. “What if we watch a holofilm, huh? Whatever you want. Are you hungry? I know you are. Let’s get something to eat.” He feels Anakin shake his head in his shoulder. It was worth a shot.
“I’m sorry,” Anakin wails. “I am.”
“I forgive you,” Ferus tells him simply. “It’s all right.”
“How is it all right?!” Anakin sobs. “How can you love me after what I did?!”
Ferus shushes him. “Because that wasn’t you,” he intones. “You’d never hurt anyone; I know you, and I do love you, very much, and I always will. You aren’t getting rid of me so easily.” He ventures to tease, “Did you want to get rid of me?”
Anakin snivels and shakes his head, still clinging to Ferus, making it abundantly clear he does not want him going anywhere.
Obi-Wan is all for endorsing Ferus’ plan to avoid the challenging conversation for now, but he doesn’t want to deny Anakin if he needs to talk. “Let’s move to the living room,” he suggests. “We can watch that holofilm, or if you’d rather talk, we can; if you have questions for us, you can ask.”
Anakin has spent the last three rotations in misery, full of questions, but he can’t bring himself to ask them right now. Now that he’s had hugs and kisses, it’s all he wants for the time being – to feel loved. And Anakin knows he is truly loved, but it’s confusing and almost frustrating in trying to understand the why and the how; he needs a break from figuring it out. Eventually, he’ll have to face this, and he does want answers, but not right now. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk, but I don’t want a holofilm either,” he adds pitifully.
But Ferus is desperate to find something to occupy him, so he proposes another idea, “What about reading?”
Anakin eyes him inquisitively.
Ferus grabs Obi-Wan’s datapad. “What if Obi-Wan reads to us?”
Obi-Wan smiles uneasily. “I don’t think my reading would interest either of you.”
“It’s not about the content; it’s about the sound of your voice,” Ferus explains. “Don’t you think you’d enjoy that Anakin?”
To Obi-Wan’s surprise, Anakin’s face significantly brightens. . . then immediately reverts back to its mask, but he nods in the affirmative. . .
So, Obi-Wan reads to them from the chapters of his meditation and spiritual healing book. And while it may not ‘interest’ the boys, the words mystically resonate with them. . . as do Obi-Wan’s melodious vocals – just as expected, and just as hoped.
Obi-Wan reads for over an hour, then decides it’s time for a break. He offers dinner, and tries not to get too discouraged when Anakin says he isn’t hungry. He’s only just emerged from days of isolation, after all.
Obi-Wan and Ferus eat, if only to entice, but the scheme doesn’t work on Anakin, albeit, a different scheme does. . .
When Ferus reforges the original pallet by the fire, Anakin can’t resist taking his usual space between them, and the older men are ecstatic to curl up all together.
Upon request, Obi-Wan reads a little more, and his words take Anakin and Ferus into a dreamworld they haven’t visited in quite a few rotations.
When Obi-Wan is sure they are settled, he sets the datapad aside and closes his own eyes. And the trio get a much-needed full night of rest.
*
In the morning, Anakin rises with Obi-Wan and Ferus, and even joins them at the breakfast table, but without much enthusiasm, and still without the willingness to eat.
Obi-Wan is grateful for the small victory anyway. He places a helping of scrambled ooglata eggs in the center of the table in case Anakin might change his mind. He squeezes his shoulder, and takes the seat beside him.
The silence is awkward for a time. Anakin keeps his head low and takes a sip of water every so often. Unsuspectingly, he is the first to strike up conversation. . . though it is not light conversation.
“Do Owen and Beru know?” he wonders aloud.
Obi-Wan is quiet for a beat. It’s hard not to ask him to clarify, but he knows what Anakin is referring to – do they know he was Vader? Do they know he’d killed Ferus’ husband? “No,” Obi-Wan states plainly.
“We should tell them,” Anakin responds abruptly.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Obi-Wan replies in an even tone.
“What is necessary?” Anakin mutters irritably.
“It’s necessary for you to be well, that you have the same relationships you’ve already held – that they don’t change; you’ve been through enough changes.”
“I bet they wouldn’t want me around Luke if they knew.”
“But they don’t know, and they don’t need to know.”
“What if I’m a danger to Luke?”
“You aren’t, baby.”
“What about Lune? Do you want me around him?”
“You’ve been around him,” Obi-Wan reminds. “And I see no issue with that. I know Lune would be well-protected in your care.”
“You can’t know that. It’s apparent I’m unpredictable. You said it yourself – you left for one mission, come back a few rotations later, and I’m a Sith.”
“The person responsible for that is no longer in your life. And you are living a very different life, as we’d discussed the other morning.”
“So, Astri doesn’t know either? Clive? Trever? What about the rest of the Eleven, Ferus? What would they think if they knew you had an Imperial in their safehouse?”
“You’re not an Imperial,” Ferus does his best to say it calmly.
“I’m worse – a murdering Sith.”
“Did you know I was working as a double agent when I found you?” Now Ferus is sharp – blunt.
“N-no.” Anakin’s melancholy face morphs to curiosity.
“I was. And the Eleven thought I had betrayed them. For a time, they weren’t sure of my loyalty – because of how closely I was working with the Emperor.”
Anakin’s eyes widen. “You what?” he asks slowly.
Ferus gives a single nod of confirmation. “But the Eleven still trusted me,” he continues. “When I’d meet up with them to check in, they’d welcome me with open arms as they always had, but the truth is, I had strayed – far.”
“What do you mean? You. . . ? You used the dark side??”
“I tapped into it, for a time. I thought I could walk the line without crossing it.” Ferus can feel Obi-Wan’s eyes on him as intensely as Anakin’s. It’s time to make his point, “Do you remember when I told you and Obi-Wan how Lune had helped me find you?”
“Yes,” Anakin answers expectantly.
“Before I saved you, Lune saved me. I wasn’t walking the line; I had crossed it, and just before I discovered you, I discovered Lune, and he was in trouble, and my desire to help him forced me to help myself. Everything changed in that moment. I literally saw the light, not even knowing at the time he was Obi-Wan’s son, but just an innocent child that needed me to be a Jedi.” Ferus feels as if he’s getting through in seeing Anakin’s hard expression soften. “Lune’s goodness brought me back. That’s how I know you’ll never hurt him or Luke – your love for them will help keep you in the light, and Obi-Wan and I will always be here with you; we’ll protect you. You won’t be left alone. I was alone when I went undercover. I had isolated myself, and the Emperor preyed on me, tried to turn me.” Ferus covers Anakin’s hand with his own. “I knew what he was, and I was still tempted. I don’t blame you for anything that’s happened, but beyond that, I can actually find sympathy and understanding towards the person you were that you can’t remember. The darkness is hard enough to resist without it being offered to you by a friend you think you can trust. I don’t know what happened when Obi-Wan was away on that mission, but I know how easy it is to fall into a trap. The man is manipulating the entire galaxy, and you were very close to him, so it’s not surprising that he could manipulate you, too. But you don’t have to be afraid. Obi-Wan and I won’t let anything happen to you; we won’t let anything or anyone corrupt you, and all the love you carry won’t allow you to be corrupted. Your own awareness will guard you against the dangers of it.”
Anakin wants to believe it; he wants to focus on the positives of Ferus’ lesson, but he has a suspicion that he can’t get past. . . “Why was Lune in trouble?”
“That’s. . . That’s not—.”
“It was me, wasn’t it?” Anakin interrupts. “You found me at that time, but you also said Roan died right before that, and now I know I was Vader at that point. . . I was going to hurt Lune, too, wasn’t I?”
What a terrible turn Ferus’ attempt to encourage has taken. . . And Obi-Wan hadn’t known about this either. Wonderful. “You weren’t going to hurt anyone,” Ferus tells Anakin forcefully. “When I say, I found you, I found you. I found my Anakin.”
“You found me without my memories. . . Zan Arbor said my injuries were at least several months old, so that means my memory loss happened separate of my accident. You said you didn’t know anything about my accident, but you know something about my memory loss, don’t you?”
Ferus and Obi-Wan exchange a quick glance.
Obi-Wan feels as if he’s dodging blaster fire; it’s true that Ferus doesn’t know anything about his injuries. . . but Obi-Wan does. He holds his breath, bracing himself for the moment when this conversation could take an even more unpleasant turn.
“Zan Arbor is responsible for your memory loss,” Ferus reveals.
“What?” Anakin asks in shock.
“It wasn’t intentional. . . Well, she never meant for you to. . . She hadn’t known you were ever Anakin,” Ferus rephrases. “She wanted to wipe Vader’s mind. She was working for the Empire, and she wasn’t very satisfied with her job. She’d planned to do a complete mind wipe, but then she realized who you once were, and she halted the process.”
“She didn’t recognize me because of how badly I was burned,” Anakin assumes.
Obi-Wan can feel his heart pounding in his ears. . .
“Right,” Ferus confirms, but debates if he should tell Anakin about Vader’s mask.
“And then she helped me??” Anakin’s brow furrows in confusion.
Ferus feels at ease that Anakin almost sounds like himself for this moment. His features relax and he smiles, “She saw something in you, as did I.”
“So, I was Vader, and then I suddenly wasn’t, and you immediately started taking care of me?” Anakin still can’t quite grasp the concept.
“I thought it was the right thing to do, and it turns out, it was.”
“Are you sure about that?” Anakin’s lip begins to quiver. “If you could take it back and not have to deal with falling in love with a monster, wouldn’t you?”
“I didn’t fall in love with a monster, Anakin. I fell in love with you.” Ferus places a hand on his knee.
Tears slip from the corners of Anakin’s eyes. “All the time, I knew you were struggling, but I didn’t know just how much,” he bawls. “All you’ve done for me despite what I did to you. Now I know why it’s been so hard for you to be with me.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s been hard to be with you, baby. I needed a little time away, but then I realized what I really needed was you.” Ferus’ heart breaks when Anakin sobs. He moves in close and intertwines their fingers.
“All this time. . .” Anakin sniffles. “So many people have supported me, but they deserve to know the truth. We can’t keep lying to everyone!”
“We’re not lying to everyone,” Ferus disagrees. “Because the truth you’re referring to isn’t relevant now. Your slate has been wiped clean, just as your memory has been – do you get that? No one can hold you accountable for something you didn’t do.”
“But that’s not fair,” Anakin blubbers. “We’re just going to pretend it didn’t happen and you and Obi-Wan live happily ever after with a murderer?”
“You’re not a murderer—”
“I am! I was! And someone has to pay for my mistakes. Who, if not me?”
“There’s no more Vader, so there’s no one to pay,” Ferus states in finality.
*
Breakfast had ended in awkward and upset silence, discontinuing important talks for the remainder of the day. As the hours go by, Obi-Wan and Ferus do their best to act normally. They attempt to keep Anakin occupied in the living area, on edge that he might show interest in hiding away in the guest room once again.
Anakin doesn’t object when Ferus takes it upon himself to search for a holoprogram for them to watch, but in the end, Ferus and Obi-Wan watch Anakin, and Anakin watches his own lap. But they sit close, arms around shoulders, legs crossed over one another, and hands held, but each party feels the tension as the program plays.
Obi-Wan is relieved to break up the monotony when it is nearing lunch time. He tries to involve Anakin in sandwich-making, and while Anakin does assists, he is adamant that he still isn’t hungry when they take their seats at the table.
Ferus ponders what might help Anakin cope, what might restore even the smallest slice of his joy. . . and his appetite. He brainstorms while Obi-Wan does some afternoon reading, and Anakin surprisingly doses off. . .
It is the early evening when Anakin awakes with a start.
“Hey.” Obi-Wan puts a palm to his back. “Okay?”
“Where’s Ferus?” Anakin scans the room with a look of worry.
“He went run a few errands; he’ll be back soon.” Obi-Wan picks up on the concern; who knows what horror-filled dream Anakin had just awoken from, and now Ferus was gone. “He went on a hunt for a proper meal – a comfort, takeout meal . . . shag pabol pasta,” Obi-Wan alerts slyly. “He thought you might find your appetite should you have something you’d more thoroughly enjoy.”
“You don’t even like shag pabol,” Anakin reminds somberly. “He probably won’t either. . . He didn’t have to do that.”
“He wanted to. And he’ll get a few different dishes for us to share; he said he was getting tired of the same old staples.” Obi-Wan observes Anakin’s usual silence. “Can I get you anything in the meantime?”
Anakin shakes his head.
“How about a hot shower? Might feel nice.”
Anakin shrugs.
“Will you do it for me?” Obi-Wan charms. “That hair needs washing.” He runs his fingers through Anakin’s lengthening locks.
Anakin looks at him apologetically.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to.” Obi-Wan hadn’t meant to make him feel self-conscious, but in the past when they’d struggled to communicate, teasing had always been an effective resolution. “It’s no bother for me if you don’t,” Obi-Wan assures, combing through Anakin’s strands again. “Just a suggestion.”
“I will,” Anakin agrees without much energy.
Obi-Wan is pleased. He leads Anakin to the refresher, a fresh change of clothes already waiting for him from when he’d made prior attempts to get him in the shower.
“May I stay?” Obi-Wan requests when they step inside the small facilities. He doesn’t want Anakin left alone.
“Yes,” Anakin permits.
Obi-Wan takes the soiled clothing from him as Anakin undresses, folding it and putting it aside while he moves into the shower stall. Obi-Wan stands idle by the wash basin, not knowing what to do with his fidgety hands. He hears Anakin involuntarily moan when the warm water hits his typically itchy flesh. Anakin hadn’t allowed for bacta soaks or healing ointment applications all this time; he can imagine the hydration is a relief to his sensitive skin.
Obi-Wan waits patiently as Anakin gets himself clean. When he hears the water shut off, he is ready with a towel to hand him. When Anakin is out of the stall and mostly dry, Obi-Wan picks up the tub of scar-reducing salve.
Anakin stiffens. “I don’t want it,” he informs.
Obi-Wan looks at him in question.
“I don’t want it anymore.”
“I know the results aren’t as rapid, but I’m certain it’s still doing the job.”
“I don’t want it to do its job. Whatever happened to me, I deserve it.”
Obi-Wan’s heart sinks. “You deserve to be well – to feel your best. You deserve to heal.”
“No, I don’t.” Anakin’s eyes water. “And I’ll never heal, Obi-Wan, not from this.” The tears fall.
“You will,” Obi-Wan vows emotionally. “In time, you’ll feel good again. You just have to let yourself.”
“I won’t,” Anakin pouts. “I won’t let myself.”
Obi-Wan sets the cream back on the vanity. “I won’t force you, baby; it’s your choice.” He moves over to Anakin with the clothing instead. “Will you at least eat dinner with us tonight? Just a few bites – for Ferus.”
“Maybe.” Anakin swaps the towel around his waist for a pair of casual trousers. “Why did he do that?”
As usual, the question isn’t direct, but Obi-Wan understands Anakin’s meaning. “He knows shag pabol pasta is your favorite. He told me how you’d mentioned it more than once on Toloran when you were stuck with mostly rations.”
“How can he love me so much? I really don’t understand.”
Obi-Wan wraps Anakin in a lounge tunic. “Because there is so much to love,” he explains in affection, then kisses his temple. “He does not associate you with Vader, as he’s said. He fell in love with you - with Anakin. Sweet, sensitive, perhaps a little bratty, but spoil-worthy Anakin.” Obi-Wan smiles and nudges him a bit playfully to complement the jab. He sees Anakin’s lips twitch, but not exactly curl. “Beautiful Anakin.” He smooths his wet hair.
“What about you, Obi-Wan? Who knows how many Jedi I killed. I helped destroy your family and your home.”
Obi-Wan sighs. “That wasn’t my Anakin. My Anakin was lost for a little while.” He speaks softly as he tucks a short curl to coil around Anakin’s scarred ear. “And how I lived in despair without the one I love by my side. But then, Ferus brought you back to me – he found you again. You came back.” Obi-Wan feels a tear slip down his own cheek. “And I can’t lose you again, my darling. I need to see that smile. And I need to hear your laugh. But for now, I’m just happy you’ve showered; I don’t so much mind it when you stink, but I prefer you smelling fresh.” Obi-Wan smirks and waits for a response. He is satisfied with the one he gets. . . Anakin letting himself fall into his arms.
*
Ferus is chipper when he returns, optimistic for this plan, and thrilled to see Anakin tidied up. More progress. He sets the catered food down and hugs him.
“Thank you,” Anakin mumbles from over his shoulder.
“You’re welcome,” Ferus practically sings. His hand cups the back of Anakin’s neck. “Did you do your wound treatment?” he inquires at feeling the dryness to his skin. But Ferus sees Obi-Wan frantically waving his hands one over the other outside of Anakin’s field of vision – the answer is no, and the subject apparently touchy. Ferus smiles and now holds Anakin’s face. “Needed a little break from it?” he tries kindly.
Anakin nods with eyes downcast.
Anakin remains gloomy, but compliant, and allows a plate to be put in front of him. No one takes it upon themselves to fill it on his behalf, but leaves it up to him how much he’d like to eat, and Anakin appreciates that. So, he makes the effort and samples a small portion of his favorite dish even though his stomach is in knots; he does need to eat something. . . He needs to get better, but he doesn’t see how he can.
The irony is nauseating. Here is the fantasy he, Obi-Wan, and Ferus had gleefully strived for. They had all been looking forward to calling this house a home for three of them, having nights just like this – intimate dinners, nights by the fire. This is how it was supposed to be, but without such a major complication.
Anakin is the major complication. Vader is the major complication. How can he move forward knowing what he’d done? How had Ferus and Obi-Wan so easily moved forward?
If it were up to Anakin, he would let himself shrivel up and die somewhere. The galaxy would be better off. But for some unexplainable, illogical reason, his Master and Ferus seem to still love him. And Anakin would never want to deprive them of his love in return; he’d already robbed Ferus of Roan’s love, and Obi-Wan had expressed the emotional obstacles he’d faced when they’d been apart.
But Anakin is not the same Anakin they fell in love with, and he never will be again. Obi-Wan and Ferus are doing their best to appease him, but they aren’t understanding that he can’t be appeased. He’s a lost cause now, and Anakin wonders if they’ll ever accept it.
Will they continue on this way for the rest of their lives? Obi-Wan and Ferus jumping through hoops to cater to him while Anakin remains miserable and self-loathing, stripping them of their joy? Anakin doesn’t deserve the life they want to give him, and they don’t deserve the life they’ll end up with because of him.
Anakin hopes they’ll come to realize what a burden he is, and eventually leave him behind, though the thought pains him greatly. He wants their love, more than anything, but he doesn’t want to let himself have it.
After dinner, the trio find themselves back on the makeshift bed by the fire. Obi-Wan reads to them again, but this time, he is not successful in a speech-induced slumber. Anakin lies between them on his back, eyes wide open and looking lost. Obi-Wan and Ferus are both propped up on elbows turned towards him. Ferus keeps yawning and is clearly fighting to sleep.
“You don’t have to stay up, because I’m up,” Anakin tells him quietly and considerately.
Ferus starts to argue, but he is truly exhausted. “I’m going to sleep just for a little while, but wake me if you need me, all right?” He kisses the side of Anakin’s nose and lies down on his side, wrapping an arm around Anakin’s waist and pulling him closer. They innately lock together, Anakin’s back to Ferus’ chest. “I love you.” He smooches the base of Anakin’s neck, nestles his head there, and closes his eyes.
“Sleep well, darling. We love you,” Obi-Wan speaks for him and Anakin both.
Anakin and Obi-Wan are now facing one another. Obi-Wan watches the sad eyes watching his own. He wishes there were something he could say to comfort. He wishes there were something more he could do. He touches Anakin’s cheek softly, then can’t resist tousling the shock of silver-streaked hair sticking up from behind Anakin’s shoulder. “He’s so peaceful wrapped around you,” Obi-Wan feels the need to point out. “He loves you so much, as do I.”
“I love you, too.”
Despite the phrase coming out so lifelessly, relief floods Obi-Wan; Anakin hadn’t had those words for him, or Ferus, since he’d learned of Vader.
“I’m sorry,” Anakin whimpers.
Obi-Wan frowns. “It’s all right.” He slides in closer, collecting dispersed droplets on his thumb. “It’s all right.”
Anakin cries quietly as he fixates on his Master’s face.
“Close your eyes, baby,” Obi-Wan directs.
Anakin does his best to blink away tears, then complies.
“There you go. . . Sweet dreams are coming to you, dear one – the sweetest of dreams.” Obi-Wan hears a hiccup of emotional distress. “Breathe easy, my love.” He inhales slow and deep, prompting Anakin to mimic him. “That’s it. Relax. Clear your mind and rest with us.”
Anakin lets out the breath.
Obi-Wan hums in satisfaction. “Sleep, love, and you’ll have the most pleasant dreams,” he wills. “Peaceful dreams of love, because you are so loved. . .”
The sound of Obi-Wan’s voice is a narcotic to him, as it has been since he was a boy, and Anakin fades away. . . and he dreams the sweet dream Obi-Wan had promised him. . .
He feels the pledged peace. He feels the proclaimed love. . . but the source isn’t from where Anakin had imagined it would be. While he’d surmised his most pleasant of dreams would showcase Ferus and Obi-Wan, neither of them are there. Instead, Anakin stands before a mesmerizingly angelic woman, her beauty surely more than skin deep.
She is in a dazzling, white gown with gorgeous lace appliques. She wears a stunning, beaded veil encrusted with delicate pearls in flower formations. It covers much of her long, dark hair, gloriously twisted tendrils cascading to her waist. She lifts her chin, and though she does not smile, she radiates happiness – in her glowing cheeks, and sparkling brown eyes. And Anakin has seen this face before, many times in his dreams. . . but he’s never seen her quite like this. He’s never seen her so vivid, so real.
He and Padmé join hands, and Anakin observes that his hand is a prosthetic much like the one he has now. He takes inventory of his Jedi attire, feels the familiar braid tickling his neck. . . Anakin is back in time, but not a time in which he can recall. . .
The words of the officiant filter into his consciousness, catching the middle of what is obviously a wedding ceremony. He’s getting married. It’s the happiest day of his life – he can feel it. He knows it. He’s sure of it. The hand in his suddenly feels alive in his own, and Anakin knows this isn’t just a dream – this is a memory.
He looks out upon the shimmering lake, scans the ruby red millaflowers along the intricate balcony railing, and shady, spring green trees overhead. Then, he looks at his bride, and finally, she smiles.
Now, Anakin hears the familiar chatter of an old friend and recognizes a protocol droid in gold-plated armor. There isn’t any doubt that this is the droid he’d built as a child – the one he’d left at home with his mother. And there’s an astromech – the one who’d helped him destroy the control ship over Naboo – the one he’d recently asked Obi-Wan about. . .
And now it dawns on him how strange it is that Obi-Wan isn’t here. On his wedding day? His Master isn’t here on his wedding day?
But Anakin finds he doesn’t care, because Padmé is here, and she makes him happy. She loves him. And he loves her. This is about them, and their life together. . . their life together?? They’d shared a life together!
Anakin’s eyes shoot open.
The fire is almost out. Obi-Wan is asleep now, still facing him. Ferus’ arm is dangling over his hip, no longer nestled so tightly to his back. Anakin rolls flat, and the arm stretches across him. He takes Ferus’ limp hand as an aid in settling his breathing, as he stares at the ceiling trying to make sense of this dream that he’s positive wasn’t just a dream. . .
Padmé.
He’d been married to Padmé. She had been his wife. But when? How? Had Obi-Wan known about her? He had to have known; surely, Anakin wouldn’t have kept something like that from his Master. Unless. . .
Obi-Wan had said their relationship had been nearly romantic during the war. Had he hid the love he’d had for the two of them from each other? Or perhaps the marriage had ended before the war began. Perhaps Padmé had died before then— Padmé had died! Is that what had driven Anakin to succumb to the darkness??
Anakin’s head aches, the confliction of Vader momentarily pushed down, questions of his time with Padmé piled atop. And suddenly Anakin is certain, Padmé is the key to unlocking the secrets of his past.
Padmé is gone, but perhaps there are clues on her homeworld of Naboo. . . the place where Padmé had once been a queen, the place where they had apparently said their vows to one another.
For the first time in days, Anakin feels the remnants of willpower.
He needs to get to Naboo.
Still clutching Ferus’ hand, he sits up. He glances at him, a bit sadly; Ferus can’t go with him. Obi-Wan can’t go with him. This is something Anakin needs to do on his own. He needs to find himself outside of the confines Ferus and Obi-Wan have kept him in to protect him. He needs to know the truth – no matter how painful. He must know, and he must go.
Anakin studies his Master’s breathing; he’s in a deep sleep – likely exhausted after what Anakin has put him through the last few rotations. . . Does he really want to put him through more stress?
Anakin knows he needs to go to Naboo alone, and he needs to go now while no one is awake to stop him, but there isn’t any reason why he can’t leave a note explaining his departure. That way he could let Obi-Wan and Ferus know he was coming back, and they didn’t have to worry.
Anakin looks to Ferus again; he’s sleeping just as soundly. He carefully places Ferus’ hand down on the pallet, and rotates into a squatting position as he slowly backs away.
He leans forward and presses his lips to Ferus’ forehead, then to Obi-Wan’s cheek.
Now, Anakin moves swiftly, packing the essentials for his journey – Leven, and his lightsaber. He wishes he had a comm he could take, but he doesn’t own one; he hadn’t needed one, because he was always with Obi-Wan or Ferus and would use theirs if ever necessary.
Pack slung over his shoulder, Anakin emotionally scribbles on a pad, then leaves it on the kitchen table where he knows it will be seen. Now, he returns to the living area to get a final look at the two people he loves most in the galaxy.
In the short span of time since Anakin had risen, they have moved into each other’s embrace, filling Anakin with the assurance he needs to make his exit; they’ll be okay – they have each other.
It’s time for Anakin to go.
He’ll discover the truth, and he’ll discover who he was, so he can focus on who he wants to be now – and that is someone worthy of the love of Ferus Olin and Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Notes:
Well. We knew this was coming. Baby boy has to go do big boy things 💔
‘No stress’ was something I noticed Ferus said often in the very first Jedi Quest book. But, as I attempted to rationalize above, I also noticed he never said it in any of the books following. I imagine it was the writer getting acquainted with the kind of character she wanted Ferus to be. I’m surely satisfied with the kind of character he turned out to be 💕
“And your own awareness will guard you against the dangers of it.”
Ferus’ wisdom here comes from his Master, Siri Tachi. Check out this flashback from Book 6 of The Last of the Jedi. Ferus is reminiscing. . .
“Perpetually worried Padawan” lol. I just love that. This is why I am certain when Ferus was saying ‘no stress,’ he was actually feeling the stress 😆❤️
Thank you for reading! This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend and fellow writer, and incredibly faithful reader, Wibzen 💜 Happy Birthday! 🥳 I hope you've had a wonderful day, and thank you so much for all your love and support 🫂
Chapter 30
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A flash of lighting and the sound of thunder stirs Ferus awake. Disoriented, he isn’t sure if it’s still dark out or if the stormy weather is hiding the sun. He assumes the former, based on his level of fatigue, heavy eyes stubborn to lift their lids.
Not yet ready to rise, he curls into the body next to him, feeling a bearded jaw scratching against his forehead. Contentedly cozy, but a bit bewildered about the change in position, Ferus reaches over Obi-Wan. . . for Anakin.
But Anakin isn’t there.
Still coiled, Ferus flips in the opposite direction, but finds the other end of the pallet to be cold. Startled, he jolts upright. Surely more awake now, he looks around the room for signs of light or life, with large, unsettled eyes. He strains his ears to listen for clanking dishes or running water. . . but all he sees is darkness, and all he hears is the rain outside.
He checks the time. . . oh-three-hundred. No wonder Obi-Wan wasn’t up yet. But why was Anakin?
Ferus investigates the kitchen first, but it is undisturbed, save for water droplets hitting the window. Speculative that Anakin might have once again retreated to the sleep couch, Ferus moves to the spare room, but the little guest bed is bare. He spins on his heel and regards the bacta tube – it is vacant as well.
The ‘fresher door is open and the light is off; Ferus peaks inside anyway. . . There is no evidence of recent use. Ferus doesn’t believe Anakin would have gone into the master bedroom, but. . . Empty.
Heart pounding, Ferus skids back to the kitchen, his eye catching something it hadn’t before. . . a note.
And Ferus knows this piece of parchment is about to rip his heart from his chest. He darts to the table and snatches it up.
I promise I’ll be back. There’s something I need to do. Please don’t try to follow me; I need to do this on my own. I promise I’ll be careful. I promise I’ll be home soon, because I love you both, and I want to get better, and I don’t know how to do that. I don’t want to be a burden to you. I want to find peace so I can piece myself back together again. You’ve both done so much to try to help me, but now I need to help myself.
I love you, Fess.
I love you, Obi-Wan.
“OBI-WAN!!!” Ferus screams simultaneously as he reads the name. He rushes back to the living room, Obi-Wan alert with a look of terror. “He’s gone!” Ferus yelps with a cry. “He left!!”
Obi-Wan is on his feet, scrambling to Ferus and taking the notepad from his trembling hands. His eyes scan the elegant handwriting as Ferus dives further into hysterics.
Dropping the pad, Obi-Wan sprints for the door and out into the turbulent weather.
He wanders aimlessly into the street, looking down either end of it. . . but he knows. . . Anakin had been gone longer than time would allow for them to catch up. His sense of urgency fades away, and his shoulders drop, the intensifying downpour soaking his hair and clothes.
Slowly, and helplessly, he turns to face the house again. Ferus is there, the fall of the rain now mixing with and masking his tears.
Drenched in the middle of the desolate, distorted road, the devastated pair cling to one another, absent of an essential comfort only one other person can provide.
*
Anakin had made it to the spaceport just as the rain had started. The precipitation was just the sort of cooperation he’d needed; it gives him a more legitimate excuse to stealthily pull the hood of Obi-Wan’s robe over his head.
He has his false ID docs Ferus had previously prepared for him, but Anakin hadn’t taken any credits, so he plans to sneak aboard a freighter. He believes it fate that there happens to be a craft scheduled to voyage to Naboo in ten minutes. In everything he’s learned he’s done wrong, he feels he is finally doing something right.
The ride to Padmé’s homeworld is long, cramped in the cargo area of the ship. Anakin takes cover behind a stack of storage crates. He remains wrapped in the traveling cloak, his favorite red pullover folded neatly and acting as a supportive pillow for his head, Leven cradled in his palm. . . He misses them already, but Anakin feels empowered to be doing this on his own – making his own decisions and taking control. He’d forgotten what it had felt like to be self-efficient and reliant.
He just hopes his lovers aren’t too worried. He’d proven himself on Bakura, so he has to believe they’ll trust he’ll be all right.
When the freighter docks, Anakin gathers his things and escapes through the maintenance sector down below. He emerges from under the craft and does his best to blend in with the pedestrian crowd at the hangar. He braces himself when he lines up for checkpoint, but Ferus’ flawless ID docs easily grant him passage.
Though there is no rain to be seen on this planet, Anakin keeps the hood over his head as he makes his way to the nearest city on foot. He discovers he is on the outskirts of Theed. He vaguely remembers the royal county from when he was a boy, and is relieved things appear to be the way they were fifteen years ago. It seemed the only presence of the Empire was at the checkpoint itself; the atmosphere is tranquil, and Anakin feels no hostility or fear amongst the travelers and natives.
Anakin approaches an information booth that is targeted towards tourists. There is no attendant at the desk, but there are pamphlets for the taking. He first unfolds one highlighting the planet’s hotspots. His finger scans a list, and his eyes land upon the word, ‘Archive.’ He may be able to get access to records there – potentially find his marriage certificate or information about Padmé’s death. He checks the directory map; he doesn’t have far to go.
Anakin enters a grand, museum-like building a short time later, and the very first thing he sees: Padmé.
There is a memorial to the former queen right inside the entryway. Anakin looks at it respectfully and somberly. He steps forward, hood still drawn, and reads the plaque that sits on a podium below the beautifully depicted portrait of Padmé.
It recounts her services to the planet and its people as both Queen and Senator. Most relevant to his search, Anakin sees that she died less than two years ago. . . around the time Obi-Wan had said he’d turned – when Jedi and the Republic had fallen, and the Empire had risen into power.
Anakin takes a few moments to admire the artwork that he believes has impeccably captured Padmé’s spirit. The piece is colorful and abstract, themed with lovely white flowers that match the brightness of her smile.
When Anakin looks beyond the entrance, he sees the glow of viewscreens. Both satisfaction and anxiety well up within him. Here is a privilege he’d been denied all this time – access to the HoloNet. And now Anakin has doubts about whether or not he really wants to do this. There’s a part of him that feels as if he’s betraying Obi-Wan and Ferus; they hadn’t wanted him to know – of Vader, and whatever else they’d been hiding.
He swallows hard and moves to the workstations.
He looks over his shoulder, incessantly checking his surrounds as he selects his seat, back to the wall with a prime view of this region of the facility. His inhuman finger taps a command on the screen and a holographic keypad appears on the desk. Anakin takes a breath and begins typing. . .
He starts with his own name and Padmé’s together. As a result, he sees reports of them having worked as allies during the war – details on the missions and on the politics. There is some gossip suggesting they are involved romantically, but nothing factual. He tries the names again with the word, ‘marriage’ behind them. . . There is nothing about their nuptials, but Anakin knows it in his heart – they were married.
Anakin swipes back to the prior articles, which contain photos of the two of them. He studies himself; he doesn’t look the way he remembers. He looks taller, definitely broader and more muscular – the way he'd been when he’d first awoken without his memories. His hair is longer, and there is a significant scar running the length from his brow to the top of his cheek. He looks so serious, so fierce – commanding. . . He observes that he doesn’t appear to be what he'd classify as happy; he can read the stress right off his face – see it in his bulky, but tense shoulders.
But Padmé. . .
She always looks poised and put together. Even wearing a professional mask, Anakin can still see the warmth in her smileless expression. And no matter the subject of the news story, she looks radiant in every accompanying image.
During this era, Padmé hadn’t been the fourteen-year-old girl Anakin had known, but a woman – ever regal and elegant. Her visage as a Senator is a bit less intimidating than what he recalls as a queen. She looks softer, but not any less capable.
Anakin tries a search for Padmé’s name alone. Similar information as to what he saw on the memorial out front populates. A brief summary tells him when she had moved to Coruscant and went into office. He sees where she had lived, and what she had accomplished in her thriving, but short career. It continually saddens Anakin to know she is no longer here to spread her goodness. He wipes at his weeping eyes.
While Anakin is pleased to have discovered more about this incredible woman, the puzzle remains unsolved, and he knows there are more pieces to find. Who knew of their life together besides the two of them?
Anakin looks for information on Padmé’s family next. He retrieves an old-fashioned stylus and scrap parchment and jots down the name of her parents. There is no exact address, but he is confident he can track them. . . though, he isn’t sure he wants to do that. If they hadn’t known about him, would that make things more complicated for them? What if Padmé and her parents had known he was Vader? Then he would be in danger of his location being reported back to the Empire.
This mission is no longer as simple as it had been when he’d first began. Anakin takes a break from looking for clues on Padmé, and out of curiosity, punches in his Master’s name. Panic floods him as he sees endless articles about the ‘traitor,’ rewards offered to anyone who aids in the discovery of his whereabouts.
Anakin scrolls through the interface to get to older information, but there doesn’t seem to be much. He knows the Jedi had been at the top of many news reports during the war. . . but if the Jedi were deemed traitors now, it is likely that the history depicting them as saviors would’ve been wiped out by the Empire.
Anakin checks his own name in conjunction with the war, and other than those same articles tied to Padmé, there isn’t hardly anything at all.
He does see the report of his own death, but the writeup is not specific to him, but just includes his name in a list of all the deceased Jedi enemies. The copy reads victoriously rather than mournful as the news on Padmé’s death had. Anakin can’t help but read through the names. . . Master Windu, Master Fisto, Master Plo. . . Anakin had known they were gone, but reading this insulting joke of an obituary is a punch to the gut – all of them lumped together as if their lives hadn’t mattered. . . Every life matters.
And now Anakin wonders. . .
He searches for Ferus and ‘Roan,’ because he realizes he doesn’t know his last name. Anakin has to dig, but discovers covert information about an operation called Olin and Lands. Anakin assumes this is the business Ferus had told him about, and that ‘Lands’ must be Roan’s last name. He searches the forename and surname together, and finds the dreaded obituary – the very recent obituary. It seemed the family had only just made arrangements for a service when Ferus had returned home to them after caring for Anakin.
Reading, ‘Roan is survived by his beloved husband, Ferus Olin,’ makes Anakin’s eyes burn, as does the lovely photo of the departed.
It is a casual image, blurred humanoids in the background at what could be some sort of outdoor gathering. Roan’s chin is tipped upwards, sunlight on his face. His crooked smirk is endearing, and there is a calmness in his soulful eyes, giving Anakin a sense of the person he had been.
There aren’t any details about Roan’s death, just that his life had been tragically cut short. . . There is zero mention of who had tragically cut that life short. . .
Unsteady hands, and unsteady breaths, Anakin keys in, ‘Vader.’
This returns the highest results yet. There are countless mentions of his evil alter ego, and while Anakin Skywalker had been portrayed as the enemy, Vader is presented as the hero. But Anakin isn’t that naïve. He knows the Empire is monitoring these public documents. And thanks to rebellion groups like the one Ferus had started, this misinformation only spreads so far.
Anakin is relieved that there doesn’t seem to be any holoimages of Vader. It’s curious, but it does make sense; Palpatine wouldn’t have wanted the association with the Jedi – he wouldn’t want there to be any photos to study for comparison, and risk someone recognizing him as Anakin. . . He would’ve wanted him to remain a mysterious villain.
And a villain he certainly was. . .
Anakin sifts through headlines about Vader’s year in terrorizing the galaxy. He is listed as having conquered uncooperative planets and capturing resistant inhabitants, but Anakin knows the truth; as Vader, he had destroyed communities and homes. He destroyed families, and he’d destroyed lives.
Anakin puts his head in his hands and squeezes his eyes shut. He hears himself wheeze and realizes he’s let his breathing get out of control.
As if by reflex, Anakin auto-replays Ferus’ often-spoken words in his mind, ‘You’ve got to calm down, Anakin; you’ll hurt yourself. Breathe. . .’
Ferus’ mantras work even without his soothing presence and physical chest for Anakin to cling to. Now Anakin clasps his hands together, envisioning the synth-flesh one is actually Obi-Wan’s. How he wants the comfort of his Master’s embrace about now. He wants to be perched on his lap, and he wants Ferus’ fingers massaging his neck and carding through his hair.
Head still low, shoulders still pulsing, Anakin picks up on the sounds of voices in the distance. His attempt to decode the conversation inadvertently helps him find his center. . .
“I was thinking we could set up in this area here. We can move these tables out just for the duration of the event, right? What do you think?”
Anakin peers out from under the hood of the robe. Roughly fifty paces away, he sees a young, blonde woman. She is with someone in a personnel uniform who Anakin assumes works for the archive. The blonde is clearly enthusiastic and inspired.
“Yes, I can picture it; I like having the exhibit right near the entrance – near the Queen’s memorial.”
Anakin notes the woman’s vibrant smile upon the mention of Padmé. Heartrate regulating, he listens more intently. Through context clues, Anakin learns the woman is an artist, and a Naboo native. She will have an exhibit here at the archive, and her work has something to do with the aquatic nature of Gungan culture.
Suddenly, the woman’s eyes lock on Anakin’s; he’d been too blatant with his staring. He quickly looks away, refocusing on the viewscreen and clearing his most recent search results.
“Would you excuse me a moment?” Anakin hears the woman tell the attendant quietly.
“Yes, Ms. Ballory, of course. I will be in my office if you need me.”
“Thank you.”
And Anakin knows the blonde woman is heading straight for him. He squirms in his seat, trying to appear unphased. Maybe if he looks busy, she won’t bother him. What does she want, anyway?
“Sir?” A gentle voice rings in Anakin’s ear.
Letting his hood further conceal his face, Anakin hunches over and pretends he hasn’t heard her.
“I’m sorry. . . Sir??” the woman tries again.
“Uh. . .” Anakin clears his throat. “Busy – very busy.”
“I just. . . I thought I. . . You look familiar to me.” The blonde ducks down, trying to see beneath the cloak.
Anakin panics. He noisily pushes back from the desk, spastically abandoning his seat – not at all suspicious or attention-drawing. . . “I’m sorry – I. . . I must be going,” he manages throaty as he abruptly turns to leave.
“Please, wait!” the woman tries to control her volume. . .
Anakin picks up on her intent to be discreet. He halts, and his stiff posture relaxes slightly.
“I wonder if you could give me a moment of your time.” She gestures to a large publication storage shelf and walks backwards towards it as she keeps her eyes fixed on Anakin.
Anakin isn’t sure what this woman is planning. Normally, he wouldn’t be too keen on meeting a stranger in a secluded, dark corner of the archives, but he isn’t afraid of her; she can’t hurt him, and somehow, he knows she won’t try.
Anakin glances around the perimeter and follows the woman between the tall towers of records.
The woman wastes no time, “It’s you, isn’t it?” she queries excitedly. “Anakin,” she purrs at a whisper. “I’d never forget those eyes – they haven’t changed since you were a boy.”
A boy? Anakin had assumed this was someone who’d recognized him from the war effort, but she’d known him as a boy??
“Padmé and I had always remained in touch, and she’d talk about you – how she’d reconnected with you.”
Anakin’s mouth hangs open. “Padmé?” he stutters.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” There’s a soft chuckle. “I’m not surprised. I always stood out the most because of my light hair, but now I find it causes people to have a hard time ever having associated me with the handmaidens. . . I’m Eirtaé, or I was. I readopted my birth name years ago when I stopped serving the Queen.” She puts out a hand. “Eirtama Ballory.”
“You- you were there during the occupation– I do remember!” Anakin is gleeful to finally be able to come in contact with a part of his past he can remember.
“Yes, I was. And our planet is forever indebted to you and the Jedi.”
Anakin’s eyes widen. He knows showing loyalty to the Jedi in these times could lead to persecution. “Careful who you say that to,” he advises.
“I know I can say it to you.”
Anakin averts his eyes. That may be true now, but it hadn’t been true at a certain point.
“It’s so good to see you; we all thought you were dead— Sabé will want to talk to you!” Eirtama realizes. “She’s been actively trying to unlock the secrets surrounding Padmé’s death. You have to tell her you what you know! She’s actually here on-world for my art exhibit.”
Anakin shakes his head. “That’s just it,” he informs sadly. “I’m here to obtain answers myself. I don’t know how she died; a large portion of my memory was lost - from the time I was seventeen up until about five months ago.”
Eirtama looks at him in remorse. “I’m so sorry,” she mutters at her faux pas.
“It’s okay,” Anakin promises. “Sabé was the decoy, right?”
Eirtama smiles and nods.
“Well, I would be willing to talk to her, if she’d be willing to talk to me. . . even though I can’t be much help to her.”
“She’d be thrilled to speak with you,” Eirtama avows. “I’m sure of it. She has mourned you as she has mourned Padmé. She remained dedicated to her many of the years she served in the Senate. She spoke of you as Padmé did. I can tell you where to find her.”
Anakin feels a wave of peace wash over him. This is it. This is how he’ll find his answers. Sabé had actually been around him during those lost years. She could tell him more about this other part of his life. And she could tell him about Padmé. “Thank you,” Anakin breathes out.
“Of course. Do you have transportation?”
Anakin shakes his head.
“Come with me,” Eirtama offers kindly.
*
Obi-Wan and Ferus had debated what to do. ‘Not following,’ as per Anakin’s request, wasn’t an option. Of course they would follow. Of course they would try to find him. But the trouble was, they didn’t know where to look. What was Anakin’s plan? What was his thought process?
Obi-Wan’s initial instinct was that he’d returned to Tatooine. . . perhaps to be closer to his family as he struggled. . . perhaps for the solitude and the feeling of home the cave provided; Anakin had lightheartedly confessed to being homesick for their little dwelling a time or two in the last few weeks.
So, Obi-Wan had set off; he’d wanted to check in on Luke anyway. Ferus remained behind in case Anakin returned. It had been very difficult to separate after already having lost touch with Anakin, but it was necessary if the three of them were to be reunited again.
Obi-Wan had left shortly after they’d awoken that morning, and Ferus is pacing, because he knows Obi-Wan should’ve arrived on Tatooine by now; it's after lunch.
He is worriedly watching the relentless rain when his comm finally sounds.
“It doesn’t seem he’s been here,” Obi-Wan cuts to the chase, because he knows Ferus would want him to.
Ferus is disappointed, but can’t say he’s surprised; he hadn’t imagined this would be so easy – he’d just hoped it would be. “Okay,” he chokes out.
“Don’t worry, love. Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s fine.” Obi-Wan has to keep telling himself that. “I spoke with his step-brother – he hasn’t seen him. I talked to our former employers, mostly to tell them we’d not be returning to work, but they hadn’t seen him either. Our former residence looks untouched, but I did pack up the rest of our things to bring home, if that cheers you up any,” Obi-Wan remarks with a smiling tone of voice. “Because the three of us will be home together soon,” he adds.
“I love you,” Ferus says hoarse.
“I love you, too, darling.”
“How’s the baby?” Ferus asks, careful not to say the name. “Did you see him?”
“Yes. He’s very well. Thriving. And as beautiful as his father,” Obi-Wan relays somewhat sullenly.
“What now?” Ferus’ hiccups.
“Our prior vacation destination? Do you think he would’ve gone there?”
“Maybe.” Ferus sighs. “I don’t know.”
“I hate to alarm everyone; I’m sure they would’ve contacted us had he shown up there upset.”
“You’re probably right. . . And you haven’t heard back from Fulcrum?”
“Nothing yet.”
“What if he went to. . . our first home?” Ferus suggests in trepidation.
Obi-Wan had been concerned about this as well. And as much as he hates to admit it, Coruscant is the more logical choice over Tatooine. Anakin is depressed and seeking answers; he might foolishly try to return to the Temple to find resolution. But Anakin wouldn’t understand just how terrible of a place it’s become.
“I’ll meet you there,” Ferus asserts in response to Obi-Wan’s thoughtful silence.
“No, darling, I don’t think that’s a good idea; and you don’t even have the ship to get there.”
“I’ll find one.”
“Fess.”
“We have to find him,” Ferus whimpers forcefully.
“We will,” Obi-Wan soothes. “I promise we will. He still might come home. Stay there.”
“He’s there. We both know it, and neither one of us can tackle it alone.”
“We don’t know for sure that’s where he is.”
“Are you leaving now?”
Obi-Wan blows out a breath, knowing it’s pointless to argue. “Yes.”
“I’ll find a way. I’ll be there.”
“Please be careful, baby,” Obi-Wan begs.
“I will. Promise me you’ll do the same.”
“Of course. . . See you soon. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
*
The Naberrie family lake house was not the sanctuary it had once been.
Sabé had only just arrived the evening before, after persistent pleas from her adopted sisters and the Naberrie’s themselves.
Sabé was rarely on Naboo these days. It had been more than a year since she’d sold off her apartment and donated most of her possessions. What remained of her life on Naboo was here at the cabin by the lake, Padmé’s kindhearted parents having allowed her to store a few priceless heirlooms and treasures with the promise that she would visit as often as she was able.
The Naberrie’s thought Sabé had returned to her philanthropist work on Tatooine – a project she had started several years ago at Padmé’s request. But in actuality, Sabé and her partner, Tonra – a former sergeant of Amidala’s security detail, had been tirelessly working to uncover the mystery of Padmé’s untimely death.
But even Tonra had encouraged Sabé to voyage home for Eirtama’s big event. He had pledged to continue their efforts while she was away and lovingly pointed out that she was past due for some carefree fun. . . and that if Padmé were here, she would insist a break from her detective work was needed as well.
Sabé had agreed with the promise of solitude.
She was open to visits, and the socializing at the actual exhibit, of course, but she wasn’t ready for the handmaiden slumber parties of her heyday. She couldn’t do it without Padmé. There was much she couldn’t do without Padmé.
Still, the echoes of the past bounce off these walls, and the sun shines through floor-to-ceiling transparisteel, showcasing the magnificent view. . . Sabé wishes the Naberrie’s had invested in drapes, because every time she looks out, she imagines her younger self sitting comfortably on the dock as Padmé dives into the lake water she held sacred. Her friend had loved to swim, and when she wasn’t swimming, they were basking on that dock together.
They were always together, even when they weren’t – even when they were each other.
And while it was her job to pose as Padmé and protect her from danger, Sabé had never thought she’d actually lose her, and especially not when she hadn’t been there to save her.
Sabé turns her face away from the endless windows and grumpily looks down at the floor. She’s feeling impatient, and rather uncomfortable, as she waits for Eirtama to arrive with an ’old friend’ she’d just stumbled upon – one that she claims she is sure Sabé will want to see.
Sabé has her doubts about that. And she hopes this isn’t some obnoxious classmate from the Academy – one who will ask her how she’s been doing and what she’s been up to. These are not questions Sabé likes to be asked, and it is the reason she prefers her solitude, with the exception of Tonra. He knows not to ask.
Without drapes, Sabé cannot hide that she’s been watching from the obscenely large window when the speeder arrives. So, she steps outside and parks on the front porch as Eirtama chats up a cloaked figure in the front passenger seat. Neither of them exit the car at first, and Sabé feels her impatience growing.
“I can’t stay,” Eirtama tells Anakin. “I need to head back to the archives; I was so excited to see you, I left without telling Nichala,” she giggles. “We have much to do before tomorrow night.”
Anakin offers a slight smile and nods his understanding. “Thank you,” he says in earnest. “I can’t tell you what this means to me.”
“You’re welcome,” Eirtama puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m just so happy you’re still with us. Sabé will be. . . Well, I wish I could stay for this reunion, but as I said, I must be going, and I do believe you’ll need some privacy.”
“I can’t thank you enough,” Anakin rephrases the same sentiment.
“I could say the same to you.” Eirtama eyes Sabé’s very unfriendly posture, and braces herself on Anakin’s behalf. “Go on,” she encourages. “And just remember, it was her job to be intimidating.” She laughs softly.
Anakin grins, but he is suddenly feeling fretful. He climbs out of the speeder, keeping his head low as he approaches the steps to this breathtaking residence.
Sabé stares in annoyed disbelief as she watches Eirtama casually wave and drive away. Why would she assume she wants to be left alone with this ‘friend’ for however long until she comes back?
But Sabé is becoming increasingly intrigued. . . She has all but determined this person is not a classmate, and she can find appreciation that whoever this is, he or she isn’t running up to her for a cheerful greeting hug – she hates those.
Sabé hasn’t moved, but remains in front of the entrance with folded arms as the mystery guest moves up the steps. These circumstances are surely unusual, and she might catch herself afraid had her sister not just delivered this package personally. “I get the feeling you’d like to come inside,” Sabé starts slowly. . . and a bit snarky.
“Please,” Anakin replies hushed.
Based on this one word, Sabé perceives this person to be male. The entry door slides open, and she extends her arm courteously, because that is what the Naberrie’s would do if they were welcoming someone into their home.
Anakin crosses the threshold, then stands still, his back to Sabé.
While Sabé hadn’t wanted a dramatic greeting, she hadn’t expected she wouldn’t get one at all. But before she can express her aggravation, the man speaks. . .
“I may not look the way you remember,” Anakin begins.
Sabé’s brow furrows inquisitively. “I think we’ve all gone through quite a bit of changes since our galaxy has been turned upside down,” she replies cautiously.
“I won’t remember what you remember either,” Anakin warns.
“What does that mean?” Sabé asks gruffly. She stomps around the man and tilts her head in an attempt to see his face. “Who are you?” she demands.
Anakin doesn’t remove the hood, but lifts it enough to expose. Despite his best efforts, tears are already pooling at the corners of his eyes. “You still look a lot like her,” he notes shakily and stuffily as he meets Sabé’s gaze.
Hands over mouth, Sabé gasps.
And the heartfelt hug she hadn’t wanted to receive is given. “Anakin!” And a Sabé that has not surfaced since the loss of her queen makes a reappearance; her vulnerability shows, and she falls apart, sobbing on Anakin’s shoulder, as she feels his arms come around her while she mimics his gesture.
Ironically, this is not an exchange Sabé has ever had with Anakin Skywalker. The little boy who’d stolen an N-1 fighter and destroyed the droid control ship had been cute enough. Sabé remembers being smitten when they’d been formally introduced back then and he had thanked her for protecting Padmé. . . As if he’d known her as long as Sabé had. As if it were his job to protect her as well.
The silly little shrimp was cute. . . but the Anakin Sabé had been reintroduced to a decade later was a nuisance – a jerk, really. And when she’d been posing as Padmé for a handful of rotations, and this man had shown up in her room in the middle of the night demanding to know where Padmé was, Sabé had been defensive, and angry. And when she realized this man was her best friend’s husband, and hadn’t heard it from the friend herself, Sabé was torn apart. And she despised him – resented him.
It had taken time for Sabé and Padmé to recover from the aftermath of the monumental secret, and it had taken even longer for Sabé to warm up to Anakin, and even when she did, there was always this unspoken rivalry between them. But now. . .
Now, Anakin was alive, after Sabé had thought him dead, and Sabé is. . . glad. Padmé was gone, but this person who had been intimately connected to her, just as she had been, was here, and for the first time in nearly two years, Sabé doesn’t feel so alone. Because here was someone who could understand her heartbreak. He could understand the great loss she felt. . . and perhaps he could explain what had happened. . .
Sabé tearfully breaks their embrace. “Tell me everything,” she begs desperately. “You were with her when she died, weren’t you? How? How did it happen? I know the reports are bantha shit; tell me what you know.”
“I don’t know,” Anakin blubbers. “I’m sorry, but I know even less than you think. . . I. . . My memory was wiped. I came here because I’ve been having dreams about her, and the other night, I swear what I had was a vision of the past – Was she my wife?” he blurts through frantic sniffles.
Sabé steps back, holding her own chest in shock. “You don’t. . .” she trails off. Every positive emotion that had flooded her thirsty soul in the last thirty seconds alone, drains from her weary body. She wants to scream at Anakin. How dare he come here without any information! How could he not remember? Who could ever forget their time with Padmé Amidala?
But the rage passes quickly, and Sabé pities him. Because to forget Padmé Amidala was no less than a tragedy. At least Sabé had her memories if all else was lost. She softens. “Yes,” she tells Anakin simply, but kindly. “Yes, she was your wife.” She watches Anakin sob, and her empathy further enhances. “What do you remember?” she queries carefully.
Anakin wipes at his eyes. “My last memories are of being seventeen,” he explains. “I hadn’t seen her since I was a child – hadn’t seen you since then, but we were married; I knew it. I felt it. We were in love.” Anakin fights to catch his ragged breaths.
“You poor thing. Come sit down.” Sabé leads Anakin to the living room. She disappears momentarily and returns with some water and tissues. She sits beside Anakin and takes his hands, the way she’d often take Padmé’s before important talks.
“I was in some kind of accident,” Anakin offers up of his durasteel digits. “And I can’t remember that either.”
“Where have you been? Lately, I mean.”
“I can’t tell you where I’ve been, or who I’ve been with – it’s dangerous for you, and for them, but I was rescued a few months ago. I woke up in this ruined body with no memory of the last seven years.” Tears streak over Anakin’s cheeks. “And I just found out my companions have been hiding things from me – trying to protect me, but I need to know about the life that I lost, and I came here to try to. . .” Anakin pants.
Sabé looks at him in concern. She squeezes his arm in support.
“I’m fine,” Anakin insists. “It’s hard to catch my breath sometimes; I’m fine. . . Please. What can you tell me? Were you there? At our wedding? When was it?”
Sabé wishes she could say she were there, and not just for Anakin’s sake. “You were married about five years ago – here on Naboo.” She knows that much, even if she’d found out after the fact. “I wasn’t there, though I would’ve like to have been. Your only witnesses were a couple of droids,” Sabé chuckles through the pain. “It was a secret marriage - not even Padmé’s parents know of it. I was one of the few people who did.”
“Who else knew? Did my Master know?” Anakin babbles without a filter.
“He seemed to know, even though no one ever told him,” Sabé elaborates. And she wants badly to ask if Anakin has seen his Master, but thinks better of it.
“How did we come to know each other again? I hadn’t seen her in eight years, last I recall.” Anakin feels liberated to be able to spit out question after question without fear of being denied.
“There was an attempt on her life, and you were sent here to look after her.” Sabé playfully rolls her eyes, “And I suppose, the rest is history.”
“When?” Anakin marvels.
“About five years ago,” Sabé reiterates the same time frame dryly and laughs. “You didn’t waste any time. You both fell hard and fast.”
Anakin hears his own laughter for the first time in days. “I could see myself being so hasty, but I’m surprised she would be.”
“She loved you,” Sabé gives as an explanation. “Since the occupation, she never stopped; the boy from Tatooine was often on her mind. She. . .” Sabé falters. “She gave me a special assignment in the years following. . . I am sorry to tell you that I failed, but I had tried to free your mother.”
Anakin’s head snaps to attention. “You. . . What?” he asks in awe.
“Padmé cared for her as she cared for you. She was devastated for you when. . .”
“When she died,” Anakin finishes. “It’s okay. I don’t remember it, but I’ve been on Tatooine recently; I knew.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sabé says in sympathy. “Padmé told me what a warm and loving woman she was – a selfless woman. I lived on Tatooine for many years, and I know her spirit carries on.”
Anakin’s grin in genuine. “This is incredible; I’m so glad to have found you – I wasn’t even looking for you,” he chuckles.
Sabé does as well. “Padmé would say it was the fate of the Gods.”
“Please. Anything you can tell me about her – about myself. . . Please. . .”
And though she hadn’t wanted a visitor, Sabé doesn’t even glance at the clock as she recounts moments spent with Padmé, and memories of her and Anakin together. It had been such a long time since she’d spoken of her truest and oldest friend with anything but sadness.
She laughs, and she smiles, and she feels better than she has in ages.
And Anakin feels the same. He commits each story to memory, locking them away in his consciousness; he won’t forget this time. He loves hearing about Padmé’s girlhood, and her time as a queen with the handmaidens. He cackles at the mentions of the young girls having fooled their royal guards, sneaking out and all taking turns playing the part of Amidala. He loves hearing about the down time Padmé had spent here at her family’s vacation home. He is enthralled learning of her heroics when she worked in the Senate.
But Anakin is biased that his favorite stories are the ones that include him – the top contender being the one when they had all been out together celebrating he and Padmé’s second wedding anniversary. . . Anakin pieces together that this is the same night that Obi-Wan had recently told him about – when he’d had to carry him out of the bar after too much to drink.
Anakin even enjoys hearing about Sabé’s life separate of Padmé, and all the missionary work she had been involved in on Tatooine. Sabé had done what he himself had wanted to do; she had freed slaves, saved lives, and introduced many to a galaxy beyond the sandy, desert planet. He feels honored to know that Sabé had been his friend. . . despite an apparent rocky start. Sabé had been someone Anakin could trust absolutely, because Padmé had trusted her absolutely. And that still holds true.
Anakin and Sabé talk for hours.
When Eirtama comms to check in on them, she is stunned when Sabé extends an invitation for her to return. . . for the night. . . and to bring Saché and Yané along with her.
The same invitation is extended to Anakin, and he is overjoyed to connect with three more amazing women who can tell him much about his fearsome and faithful wife.
*
Ferus had reluctantly reached out to Dona. He’d omitted the details, but had explained that Anakin had run out in the middle of the night after receiving some troubling news.
Wanting to do all she could to bring Anakin home safely, Dona had agreed to remain stationed at the house just in case he happened to return.
When Ferus had learned that Oryon, the Bothan courier from Dex’s legion called the Erased, had been on Bellassa with plans to head back to the Coruscant, he'd hoped it was a telltale sign that he would indeed find Anakin there.
After hitching a ride, the two travelers make it to Dex Jettster’s hideout in the Orange District around twenty-one hundred.
Ferus is comforted to see some old friends in the likes of Dex, Keets Freely, and Curran Caladian, but he is anxious for Obi-Wan to arrive, the distance from Tatooine a bit further than it had been from Bellassa.
The motley crew of rebel heroes do a good job of keeping Ferus occupied while he waits. But he is about five seconds away from starting the search for Anakin on his own when his comlink finally dings.
“I’m here,” Obi-Wan’s voice comes in clear and calm despite the exhaustion and anxiety he feels. “I’m almost to you. About eight minutes on foot.”
“I’m coming up.” Ferus is already out the door and walking briskly through the lower levels. “I’ll meet you at the last street lamp before the alleyway.”
When Ferus gets to the last lamp, he moves right past it, and on to the next one, and the next one, and the next. And when he sees Obi-Wan’s silhouette encased in the orange glow at the first of many lamps, he breaks out into a run.
Obi-Wan opens his arms and their bodies thud together. He grips Ferus tight, then they share a chaste kiss.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Ferus blubbers. “Oryon and I went straight to the Temple—”
“Ferus!” Obi-Wan emits a scolding gasp, holding the precious face between his palms in concern.
“I know; I didn’t go in, but we just circled around it, to see if I could get a sense of anything, but there was nothing, and I don’t know what we’ll do,” Ferus sniffles. “Where could he be, Obi-Wan?”
“We’ll find him,” Obi-Wan assures as he tends to do. “Something will come to light as it always does. You’ll see.”
They embrace again, and prepare for a very long night.
*
The next morning, when Anakin wakes to the smell of breakfast, he momentarily forgets where he is and that it isn’t Obi-Wan’s breakfast that he is smelling. And that prompts an ache within.
Both Obi-Wan and Ferus would be pleased to know that Anakin is eager to get out of bed and eat that breakfast. He’d even indulged in quite a few of Saché and Yané’s ‘sleepover snacks’ the evening prior, his lost appetite having made an impromptu comeback.
And Anakin finds it is more than just his appetite that has unexpectedly returned.
If only slightly, a sense of his worth feels restored. To have heard stories of himself presented in a new light – to have heard that there had been good in him, that others had seen the hero side of him up close and personal, beyond tabloid stories, and beyond what Obi-Wan and Ferus had informed him of, Anakin feels somewhat renewed. He feels hope that he might be able to be that hero again. . . He feels as if he can actually go on, and maybe repair some of the damage he’s done. Anakin wants so badly to give Obi-Wan and Ferus this report.
Anakin migrates to the kitchen. He sees Leven zooming in spirals around Yané, whom he discovers is the one cooking. Her wife, Saché, is off to the side making a holocall to their slew of younglings. And Anakin wishes there were a way for him to make his own call home.
“Good morning,” Sabé greets.
“Hi,” Anakin smiles.
“Sleep well?”
“Yes, actually.” Anakin once again involuntarily eyes Saché.
Sabé notices. “I told you there was a lot of them,” she jokes.
Anakin chuckles. “Yeah. . .”
Not for the first time in the last several hours, Sabé debates telling Anakin about his own child – his unborn baby that had perished along with its mother. But every day Sabé grieves the precious child just as she grieves Padmé. Does she really want to subject Anakin to that same pain? Anakin had expressed frustration over what his companions had hidden from him, and Sabé feels hypocritical to keep such a groundbreaking secret.
“I hate to ask,” Anakin starts, clearly pulling Sabé out of her thoughts. “But since I left my. . . friends without telling them where I was going, I know they’re probably really worried about me, and. . . well, I don’t have a way to contact them. . . I wonder if I could. . .” he hesitates.
Sabé whips out her own communication device. “Of course. No problem.” She hands it to Anakin eagerly. “Reach out to whomever you need.”
“It’s secure, right?”
Sabé nods enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Tonra wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Anakin smiles remembering tales of Tonra from the night before. The way his protectiveness was described had reminded him of Ferus.
“Step outside and have some privacy,” Sabé offers. “Did you decide if you’re going to stick around for the weekend?”
“I’d like to, but I’m not sure yet.” Anakin wants to talk to Obi-Wan and Ferus before he makes a decision. Sabé had told him he was welcome to stay with her as long as she was on Naboo. . . which would be for at least four more rotations, through the end of Eirtama’s art show.
“I hope you’ll at least come to the opening of the exhibit tonight.”
“Oh, please, Anakin.” Eirtama overhears their exchange as she enters the kitchen. “I’d love for you to see it – especially my new piece honoring Padmé; it would mean so much if you could be there.”
“Umm. . .” Anakin doesn’t want to say, ‘I don’t think I’m allowed,’ but it’s exactly what he’s thinking. “It’s not safe for me to be in the public eye. . . wanted ex-Jedi and all," he chuckles uneasily. “But I wish I could. I’d love to see your work.”
“Well, opening night is invitation only,” Eirtama tempts. “It’ll only be close family and friends – you could see Padmé’s parents!”
Anakin feels a rush of both excitement and nervousness at that. “I’d love to meet them. . . again,” he chortles. “But having a wanted man at your event could really put a damper on things. It could make people uncomfortable.”
Eirtama studies Anakin. “I don’t believe it would be too difficult to pass you off as someone else.” She squints. “What do you think, Sabé? Hiding in plain sight is our area of expertise after all. . .”
Sabé shoots her a fond look. “Even if someone recognized him, I’m confident they would stay tight-lipped; this is a loyal crowd. It will mostly be natives for the opening, and Nabooians remain loyal to the Jedi, Empire slander be dammed.”
Anakin still looks unsure.
Eirtama persists, “If anyone ask, we’ll say you’re someone else, and whether they believe it or not, I can guarantee you, they won’t mention it. And we’ll help you blend in; we won’t send you in Jedi robes,” she teases. “And it’ll be fun. We’ll have a good time. We rarely do things like this as of late with all the turmoil in this galaxy, but we’ve decided we can’t rob ourselves of the joy.”
Anakin exhales with a smile, Eirtama’s words reminding him of Ferus. . . about Roan’s wisdom to breed happiness in the hardships. Anakin feels a pinch of pain to think of Roan; he’d been wonderfully distracted in the company of these four compassionate women.
“Think about it,” Sabé suggests. “But it’s okay if you don’t want to go. You’re still welcome to stay with me for as long as you like.”
“I’d like to go to the opening,” Anakin decides. “Eirtama’s right; it’s good to do things that bring light in dark times. . . My close friend was just recently telling me the same thing, and now I’d really like to talk to him, even more.” Anakin holds up the comm device.
“Make your call,” Sabé directs. “And we’ll start making plans. . .” She puts a contemplative finger to her lip. “We have to find you something to wear.”
Anakin shyly suppresses a grin and steps outside.
His eye immediately goes to the shimmering lake. . . Anakin doesn’t just want to stay for the art exhibit tonight; he wants to stay with Sabé for as long as she’s here. He feels Padmé’s presence here, and he doesn’t want to lose this connection to her while he can have it.
Notes:
I am so excited about this chapter!! Handmaidens!! Yay! As usual, I pulled facts from Canon/Legends material, and put my own spin on things. . . There's the typical Last of the Jedi mention with the Erased, and Dex, Oryon, Keets, and Curran. But most of the tidbits in this chapter come from E.K. Johnston’s book trilogy about Padmé: Queen’s Shadow, Queen’s Peril, and Queen’s Hope. . .
Anakin really did thank Sabé for protecting Padmé when they first met, and they really did get off to that rocky start when they were reintroduced years later, and it made me sad lol. I want them to be friends! So, I like to imagine they better bonded afterwards. . . Padmé is persuasive that way, and she’d want the two people she loves most to love each other.
Sabé and Tonra do have a life together on Tatooine as described, as well as an on-again-off-again relationship. Sabé’s romantic interest in Padmé is also heavily implied.
Yané and Saché are in fact a married couple, and their relationship begins way back in the Episode I time period! All those younglings are canon, too lol.
Eirtama really is an artist (more on that later). . . and I decided she would have an exhibit to get Sabé out of her funk. . . because Sabé does spend most of her time grieving Padmé from what I understand 😔 But things will be brighter with Anakin in her life 💗But while we’re on the subject of grief. . . I unexpectedly cried while working on the details of Roan’s obituary lol. Damn! How we doing, Wibz? 😉🤭😆
I hope you liked this chapter! Can you feel Anakin’s spirits being lifted? 🙌🏻 Now, he just needs to make that call to assure Obi-Wan and Ferus that’s he’s okay ❤️
Thank you SO much for reading 🫂
Chapter 31
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Obi-Wan and Ferus had searched the streets of Coruscant all through the night, looking in obscure areas where Anakin might have settled for sleep. After a home inventory, they’d discovered he’d taken his lightsaber, and even Leven, but he hadn’t taken any credits. As a result, they'd known he wouldn’t be able to pay for lodging wherever he’d ended up, and they'd also known he couldn’t pay for transportation. . . which was why they had immediately headed to the spaceport to check the outbound cargo flights. . . only to discover the database had suffered a rare and bizarre malfunction, robbing them of the ability to see the departure schedule. And Obi-Wan and Ferus hadn’t any doubts that Anakin was responsible for the system glitch.
But the setback served as a consolation – to know that Anakin was thinking ahead and covering his tracks, that he was being resourceful and cunning. . . the way they had both known him to be in his Jedi glory days. It gave them peace of mind that he could make it on his own.
The persistent pair have hardly spoken in the last couple of hours as they conduct their endless search, both having long hit peak exhaustion, but unwilling to throw in the towel.
The sound of Obi-Wan’s comm chime takes them out of their silent monotony.
“Where are you? Have you two been at it all night??” Dex’s voice comes through with much concern.
“We’re. . . still at it,” Obi-Wan confirms.
Dex and the other members of the Erased had been helping to broaden the search when Obi-Wan had first arrived on-world, but the group had reluctantly, though responsibly, decided to call it quits somewhere around oh-two-hundred and start fresh in the morning.
As they’d made their way back to the safe house, Obi-Wan and Ferus had claimed they would be right behind them as soon as they investigated just one more potential area that housed a few abandoned businesses, but there had been an unspoken understanding that they would carry on without the rest of the crew.
Ferus tunes out the conversation as he and Obi-Wan continue on, dragging his heavy feet and wrestling his heavy eyes. He’s beyond tired, and feeling incredibly defeated. He’d been hoping for a miracle – he’d prayed for one. . .
Ferus had adopted some of the Lands family’s religious beliefs in his years spent with Roan. And while he’d held tight to the knowledge the Jedi had instilled in him about the Force, he’d also developed his own sense of spirituality beyond the lessons of the mystical energy field.
When he’d attended church with his in-laws; he’d felt the presence of higher power – something bigger than the Force, and he’d trusted in it, and had come to rely on the peace and comfort it provided. . . that is, up until Roan had been taken from him. And after having closed himself off in the Force as a Jedi in hiding, Ferus had then closed himself off spiritually as a grieving, devout-less widower.
But in all the months essentially void of prayers of help or thanksgiving, Ferus has found himself silently and desperately calling out with pleas for Anakin’s safety – unofficial, but recurrent prayers to an estranged creator that they would find Anakin and bring him home.
“Breakfast is ready and waiting.”
Ferus had missed most of the conversation, but can easily discern Dex’s fraternal protest as Obi-Wan tries to justify having stayed out all night.
“I appreciate that, my friend,” Obi-Wan says without the usual warmness he reserves for the Besalisk. “We’ll return very soon,” he promises unwillingly.
“The rest of the squad has already eaten. You come on back and tell them what ground you’ve covered, and they’ll pick up where you left off – no gaps in the search,” Dex further persuades.
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan blows out blearily. He glances at Ferus for validation he knows he isn’t going to get. “We’ll head over now.”
Obi-Wan disconnects the line knowing Ferus’ stubbornness is simmering just beneath the surface; it’s quickly brought to a boil. . .
“We finally have some daylight,” Ferus wastes no time in debating. “We can’t stop now when we might actually be able to accomplish something,” he complains.
Obi-Wan snatches him by the hand, halting their course. “I know. I understand. I want to keep looking, too, but let’s just take a short break. Keets and the others will be out on our behalf in the meantime. . . Neither of us are at our sharpest without a bit of rest, and we can’t afford to miss any trace of a trail due to hunger or fatigue.”
“You go. I’ll keep looking,” Ferus argues grumpily as he resumes walking along the path.
Obi-Wan still has him by the hand and gently pulls him back. . . pulling his guard down in the process. The tears spill from the corners of Ferus’ eyes as he meets Obi-Wan’s gaze for the first time in hours. Obi-Wan tucks him in his hold. “You need a break, love, just a small one – thirty minutes,” he negotiates. “Eat for ten, close your eyes for twenty. Then, we’ll get back at it.”
“We can’t afford a break,” Ferus whimpers.
“We can’t afford not to take a break.”
And Ferus knows it’s true. He’s hit his limit, and it would be better to take a break at Dex’s, with food, rather than crying here on the street corner. He gives in, his hand still in Obi-Wan’s as he takes the initiative to change direction.
‘Please, give us something; give us a sign – tell us where he is,’ Ferus finds himself in subconscious prayer again as he allows his discouraged form to lean into Obi-Wan’s one-armed embrace.
And as if the request is being granted, Ferus feels the vibration of his comm device on his hip.
The couple pause as Ferus digs the comlink out of his pocket without motivation, expecting to have to defend he and Obi-Wan’s decision for an overnight hunt with some other member of the Erased. But the transmission isn’t coming from Oryon, or Keets, or anyone else he recognizes. His brow furrows as the device continues to buzz in his palm. Then, he realizes. . .
“Answer it!” Obi-Wan tells him urgently.
Ferus connects the call, but says nothing, waiting for whomever may be on the other end to reveal themselves first.
“I’m sorry,” the familiar voice rings over the line. “I’m sorry, and I’m okay; I promise.”
Ferus nearly collapses, Obi-Wan getting a grip on his wobbling form and taking the comlink from his hands.
“Darling,” Obi-Wan breathes out. “Where are you? Are you sure you’re okay? Send us your coordinates and we’ll come straight to you.”
“You don’t have to,” Anakin alerts. “I have a ride back home, and I. . . I’m going to stay where I am for a little longer.”
“What?!” Ferus shouts in shock, suddenly remembering how to exercise his vocal cords. “Baby, no. What’s going on?”
“I’m fine, I swear. . . I’m with a friend.”
Obi-Wan holds his breath. Anakin hadn’t always been the best judge of character. And there were many waiting to betray his trust these days. “Please give us something more, love. We’ve been worried sick.”
“I’m really sorry,” Anakin tears up. “I really am. I just. . . I had to. . . I had a dream, and I was sure it wasn’t a dream, and now I have confirmation.”
“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” Obi-Wan asks with the utmost patience.
“The other part of my life you didn’t tell me about. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me. There’s so many things you haven’t told me. And now I’m with someone who knows a lot about my past, someone who’s even lived in the city where I grew up, and I want to learn as much as I can – about both of the lives I left behind.”
The city he’d grown up in?? Obi-Wan’s mind spins in circles – Anakin isn’t on Coruscant. And perhaps he had been on Tatooine. How had he missed him? “I understand, love, but please, let us come meet you, and we can all discuss it with this person you’re with.”
Anakin mulls it over. This proposal is absolutely ideal – Obi-Wan and Ferus here with him by the lake on Naboo. It’s perfect, and Anakin misses them so much, wants them so much. . . He’s certain Sabé won’t mind the extra company, especially two more Jedi allies. “I’m with. . . a handmaiden,” Anakin reveals cautiously.
And suddenly it all clicks. A chain of events flash before Obi-Wan’s eyes. The Queen’s righthand women knew her most intimately. . . Anakin had already told him of his dreams of Padmé. . . Anakin is on Naboo.
“I know where he is,” Obi-Wan whispers to Ferus, who is staring at the communication device with a lost look upon his face. Obi-Wan rubs his shoulders. “Okay,” he says in understanding. “Don’t say anymore. We’re coming there. Right now.”
“Fess?” Anakin doesn’t like how quiet he’s been. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, babydoll,” Ferus tells him choked up. “Of all people, I understand having to get away for a bit.”
“I’m sorry about a lot more than that. . . I’m feeling a little better, but I. . . Well, I hope you still love me, because I still love you.”
“Of course I still love you – nothing’s changed.” Ferus is overwhelmed and overjoyed to hear Anakin expressing himself positively.
“I miss you both. I just needed to do this, and I’m glad I did.”
Ironically, Obi-Wan is glad as well; he can hear the difference in Anakin’s tone of voice – this handmaiden, whom he suspects and hopes is Sabé, seems to have gotten through Anakin’s impenetrable walls. Sometimes it takes an outside source. . . Sometimes it takes a woman. “If this is what you needed, then I’m glad, too. And I’m sorry for what I’ve kept from you. Truly.” Obi-Wan wonders exactly what Anakin has learned. Just his relationship with Padmé? The children?
“I’m not mad, but I do want to talk about it; I want to talk to you.”
Obi-Wan’s heart clenches. “I want to talk to you, too. And we’re going to be there as soon as we can, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you. . . I’m sorry. . .”
“It’s really okay, love. We’re just so relieved you’re safe. We’ll leave immediately, so you won’t be able to reach us until we touch down, but we’ll be there. Can I contact you back on this same frequency?”
“Yes. . . Maybe we can stay here a while?”
“May-be.” Obi-Wan smiles. “I love you, precious.”
“I love you, too. . . Fess??”
“Love you, Ani.” Ferus is fighting a wave of emotion.
“I love you. . . See you soon.”
“See you soon.”
Obi-Wan disconnects the call, and both he and Ferus start sobbing as they grip each other tight.
“Oh, Force,” Ferus weeps. “Oh, god. Thank god,” he mutters.
Obi-Wan comes out of the embrace to wipe at his brightening eyes. “He sounded so good.”
“He did,” Ferus sucks back the last of his tears. “You were right,” he sniffles. “He’s going to be okay. Oh, Force, Obi-Wan. He’s okay.”
The pair share a genuine smile for the first time in many days. Obi-Wan holds Ferus’ jaw affectionately. “He’s okay,” he agrees.
“Naboo?” Ferus verifies as he dries his face with his sleeve.
“Naboo,” Obi-Wan affirms. “Padmé’s handmaiden – that’s who he’s with; he left to find out more about Padmé.” He sighs. “He’d told me of dreams he’s had of her. . . I don’t know why I didn’t tell him. I should’ve.”
“I understand why you didn’t,” Ferus absolves. “Believe me.”
Obi-Wan exhales. “Whatever he knows now, and whatever he doesn’t, he needs to know all of it. It’s time; I have to tell him the rest. . . And I have to tell you, too.”
At the eeriness of the phrase, Ferus eyes him uneasily.
“I know more than I’ve told you. . . about his injuries.”
*
Anakin feels a weight lifted as the conversation wraps. He floats back into the house, Sabé still there to meet him.
“Feel better?” Sabé chuckles at the obvious pep in Anakin’s step.
“Much better. Thank you again.” Anakin returns the comlink, and makes a decision. . . “Sabé?”
Sabé tilts her head in question.
“There’s something I want to tell you,” Anakin relays.
“That’s good,” Sabé smiles. “You get a turn to talk. I’m the one that’s been doing all the reveals,” she laughs, and Anakin joins in. “Now, what is it you want to tell me?” she prompts kindly as Anakin takes a seat beside her.
“Well, it’s about my companions I’ve mentioned more than once – the ones I just spoke to. . . They’re coming to get me.”
“All right.” Sabé waits, because she is certain Anakin has more to say.
“We were hoping we could all talk. Would that be okay with you?”
“Sure. Friends of yours are friends of mine, but since I’ll be meeting them anyway, am I allowed to know who they are now?”
“Yes. . . but there’s something else I want you to know first.”
Sabé narrows her eyes contemplatively.
Anakin swallows hard. “I didn’t know how to say it before; I didn’t know how you’d feel about it because of Padmé – I’m sure I loved her very much, and after everything you’ve told me, I’ll always care deeply for her, but I don’t really remember being in love with her, so. . .”
“You have a romantic relationship with these companions," Sabé assumes. 'You love them.”
“Yeah,” Anakin answers simply.
“That’s okay,” Sabé pacifies. “That’s more than okay – that’s wonderful, Anakin. I’m very happy you’ve found love again, and I know Padmé would feel the same.”
Anakin smiles. “You’re seriously the best.”
“I don’t know about that,” Sabé chuckles. “Now, tell me who we’re expecting,” she slightly shifts the topic – away from herself. “Are they going to be here in time for the exhibit?”
“They should be; they said they’re coming right away. . . from Bellassa.”
“Bellassa, huh?”
“Yes. I live there now. . . with Ferus. . . and Obi-Wan.”
“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Sabé announces boldly with a wide grin.
“Is there another Obi-Wan?” Anakin chortles.
“Certainly not.”
*
Soon after Anakin had spoken with Obi-Wan and Ferus, they had dialed him back on Sabé’s frequency alerting that they would not be able to make their departure as soon as planned – due to required mechanical repairs to the ship.
Apparently, the thrust manifold had been stolen right off the craft! Anakin is astounded how this could’ve happened on a community-friendly world like Bellassa. It’s not as if there are Jawas lurking about looking to sell parts back to the owner they’d stolen them from.
Not being present to take care of the repair is a maddening scenario for Anakin. He gives as much advice as he can on the short, second call; whomever had ripped away the manifold had cut the wiring as well. It would surely take time to not only find parts, but to perform a reinstall, undoubtedly causing a significant delay.
But Anakin is okay with that; they’re coming, and that’s all that matters. Meanwhile, he is pleased to get some one-on-one time with Sabé.
Shortly after breakfast, Yané and Saché return to their children at their nearby residence, relieving Saché’s mother from her overnight babysitting duties. Eirtama reports back to the archives to make final preparations for the opening of her exhibit. . . and Anakin and Sabé spend the morning preparing for the anticipated event - they go shopping for formal attire for Anakin.
Anakin is first resistant when they strode into the fanciest shop he’s ever set foot in; he knows only pricey purchases would be made here, and all his credits are at home. But Sabé insists, citing that he must look presentable for Eirtama’s big night. Anakin does want to make sure he’s dressed appropriately. So, he agrees to let Sabé front the cost with the promise of reimbursing her through the likes of his ‘synth-flesh fund.’ And while Sabé and Anakin shake on the terms, the generous woman has no intention of taking Anakin’s credits in the end.
Anakin models several styles and colors, and the vote for the modern cut, midnight blue coat and trousers is unanimous amongst Anakin, Sabé, the store clerk, and Leven as well.
Once the shopping is behind them, the friends extend their outing and head to lunch – with another false promise that Anakin can financially compensate Sabé at a later time.
Stimulating conversation never seems to run out as Anakin now speaks openly and proudly of the ones he loves. Sabé genuinely enjoys hearing about the beautiful bond Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ferus share, which is even more so fascinating as Anakin describes his past rivalry with Ferus. She is touched at the devotion the two show to one another now, and is not in the least bit surprised that the devotion Obi-Wan had always shown his apprentice has carried over into something more.
Padmé had told Sabé of her suspicions about the possibility of a secret romance between her husband and Obi-Wan. But Padmé had understood there was a connection there that she couldn’t compete with, though she’d known Anakin had loved her, too. . . much like how Tonra had known Sabé’s heart had first belonged to another, and always would. . . and still does. There are few who could better relate to the complexity of a heart like Anakin’s.
After lunch, Sabé and Anakin head to the burgeoning exhibit to see if they can assist with set up.
The show floor had already been configured, Eirtama’s pieces already in place, but covered for the later unveiling when all attendees are present. The final bit of prep work is for the food and beverage portion of the venue.
Eirtama coordinates with the kitchen staff regarding final arrangements for the dinner menu, while Anakin helps the archive attendants set up buffet and refreshment tables, and Sabé brings out the tablecloths and silverware.
When the work is complete, the girls discuss another important matter of business – Anakin’s evening look. Anakin had wandered off around the time the talk had transitioned from clothing choices to hair styles.
Sabé finds him at the facility’s entrance, longingly gazing at Padmé’s memorial. She slides in next to him, taking a moment to admire it as well. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” Anakin answers a bit lifelessly, lost in the splendor of the visage before him.
“If you like. . . I could take you to the actual burial site,” Sabé offers hushed. “I myself haven’t been there lately.”
With intrigue, Anakin turns to face her. “Yeah,” he replies hoarse, overcome at the thought. “I think that’d be nice.”
*
Padmé’s resting place is in a deeper part of Theed, in a less populated area. The grand entrance to the mausoleum can be seen from a distance, and Anakin is breathless as they approach. It is apparent the people of Naboo cherished their Queen, and in all that Anakin has learned in the last rotation, he can understand why. The tribute to his departed wife is astounding. Anakin had expected something similar to what was in the archive, but this was an exhibit all on its own – an impressive display to honor a great life, lost far too soon.
Anakin’s eye is first drawn to an eloquent, and quite massive, stained-transparisteel portrait. Padmé wears flowing layers of a familiar sky blue, and dons a glorious golden headdress, enhanced by the illumination of the sun behind it. A purposeful, faint beam of light connects from the colorful glass right to the tomb, and Anakin feels his heart sink in sadness.
The sarcophagus lid is a permacrete carving that truly showcases Padmé, and not Amidala. Her gown is simple and her hair is loose. This is how Anakin remembers her. . . as the handmaiden decoy, free from the Queen’s mask, unwavering beauty beyond the makeup. Anakin imagines this to be the way she looked when he fell in love with her – when they had found each other again, ten years after their special bond had first formed on Tatooine.
As the sniffles start, Anakin feels an arm come around him. He reciprocates, and Sabé rests her head on his shoulder.
The two stand quiet for a while. . . reflecting. . . soaking up the presence of the wondrous lost soul. In the backs of their minds are relevant, crucial topics they both withhold.
For Sabé’s part, she thinks of Anakin and Padmé’s unborn child, and debates if now would be the right time to tell Anakin that he was slated to be a father.
But Anakin. . .
Anakin wrestles with the notion that he might have been responsible for Padmé’s death.
He’d learned from Sabé that Padmé had left Coruscant to find him after the attack on the Jedi Temple, though she hadn’t told Sabé where she was going. The order of events had left Anakin with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he’s been trying to ignore since first getting the information; if Padmé had gone to Anakin after the attack on the Temple, then she hadn’t gone to Anakin at all.
Sabé had never heard from her friend again after that perilous exchange, and Anakin knows the odds are high that he is reason – Vader is the reason. And now Anakin revisits the dark place he’s come to know so well since discovering this Sithly side of himself. . . Was is really proper to stand here to honor this life in the chance that he’d been the one to take it?
“Do you. . . do you think our spirits live on after we die?” Anakin asks shakily.
“I do,” Sabé says from the comfort of Anakin’s hold. There is evidence of a smile in the tone. “I think she’s still with us. But you’re the expert on the Force, do you think that’s possible?”
“I think I’m in trouble if it is.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“If Padmé, or my mother, have been watching over me, I think they’d be disappointed.”
Sabé frowns. “Why would you think that?”
“Because. . . I’ve learned I’ve done some bad things in my lost time, things I can never take back – never be forgiven for.”
“You can always be forgiven,” Sabé counters without hesitation.
“Do you really believe that?” Anakin asks pained.
“It was Padmé who instilled that doctrine in me, actually, so yes.”
“But what if someone hurt you – did something unthinkable to harm you?”
Sabé hums in thought. “Well, if it was someone who cared about me, I’d first examine why. I’m sure there’d be a good reason why they did what they’d done. I’m sure there was a good reason why you did what you did. I know you aren’t perfect, Anakin. Padmé would tell me about the fights you’d have; you made mistakes, but it seemed you were always coming from a place of love – from your strong sense to protect her.”
“Fights?” Thus far, Anakin had only heard of happy moments with Padmé; here might be some clues to his undoing.
“You’d argue. As I said, usually over her safety. I know one of the last disagreements you’d gotten into – and one of the biggest – was when she was working undercover with an old friend. . . an old friend that was romantically interested in her, I might add. You did some things, said some things, that were probably out of line; you tried to force her to discontinue her ruse. But if you know her, you know how strong-willed she is. And I think the two of you having that particular trait in common was what prompted the few issues you had in your marriage.”
“Funny. . . I don’t feel strong-willed now.”
“You’ve been through a lot – that changes a person, and it also makes forgiveness all the more possible.”
“Maybe. . . I dunno.” Anakin looks down at his shuffling feet. His arm is still clasped around Sabé, but his grip has loosened in shame. “So. . . what happened? With Padmé and me and her mission? I know she wouldn’t have quit working on the case, especially if it meant compromising the welfare or integrity of the people. . . What did I do?” Anakin inquires reluctantly.
“You pounded the guy,” Sabé snorts. “Padmé was upset, but I’ll be honest and say that I could see your side of it – that jerk deserved it.”
“But I’m sure Padmé didn’t,” Anakin defends. “She didn’t deserve to have me crash her work like that – to be so judgmental. . . and violent.” He cringes.
“No, that’s true. But again, I know it was coming from a place of love – you didn’t always get it right, but I know you loved her, and she loved you – and she wasn’t perfect either.”
“It sure sounds like she was.”
“She was human, just like you.”
“She was nothing like me. I’m. . . I’m a monster.”
Sabé moves out of Anakin’s feeble hold to eye him. “I don’t believe that,” she chides. “And neither would she. Anytime she’d tell me about the troubles between you, she’d always make a point to speak of your goodness – of your kind and caring heart.”
A tear streaks over Anakin’s cheek. “I know without knowing that I didn’t deserve her.”
Sabé puts a consoling hand on his arm. “Hey. Whatever you did, you clearly learned from your mistake, and that’s what forgiveness is all about – being better. Have you ever thought about how maybe we need to make mistakes in order to grow?”
“You don’t even know what I did, so how can you know if I’m better?”
“I don’t need to know what you did. I can forgive you without knowing, because I know your heart.” Sabé is taken by surprise when Anakin suddenly smashes her in a hug.
Sabé’s words comfort Anakin more than she knows – forgiveness without the confession. It was what Obi-Wan and Ferus had been trying to make him see. . . that they didn’t have to tell Owen or Ahsoka or anyone else about Vader. Sabé didn’t seem to want to know, and maybe that was what was best for her. . .
As Vader, there were many Anakin had hurt, and not just physically. Anakin wants to make amends, but maybe the process of doing so isn’t necessarily about him, and what will make him feel better. In this moment, he’s realizing it’s more about appeasing others, and sparing them the pain the knowledge of Vader brings. If it means keeping the ones he loves from further harm, then Anakin will endure the guilt – he’ll sacrificially carry the weight of this secret all on his own.
Sabé chuckles as her feet are nearly lifted off the ground. “Feel better?”
Anakin releases her, then nods with his head low. “Thanks.”
“Sure. . . Are you ready to go?”
“Maybe we stay just a few more minutes.”
“We can, but just remember, she is always with us. . . and I’m certain she could never be disappointed in you.”
*
Obi-Wan and Ferus had discussed leaving their ship on Coruscant and letting Oryon courier them to Naboo, but they knew they’d risk coming back to additional parts having been stripped, or even the complete theft of the vessel if left behind in the lower levels for such a lengthy duration. And now that they have at least spoken to Anakin, and know that he will wait for them, they are willing to postpone their flight.
But this delay only causes Ferus to be on edge for a more extended period of time.
It had been predetermined that they would have this pivotal talk about Anakin’s injuries while on the ride to Naboo. . . which would have originally been within the hour. . . not five or six.
The tension persists as they go through the motions of obtaining a new thrust manifold and working on the install. With the help of their friends from the Orange District, they manage to get the job done and set off mid-afternoon.
Watching Obi-Wan exchanges pleasantries and goodbyes with the crew like nothing is amiss leaves Ferus feeling unsettled.
All this time.
All this time Obi-Wan had known the details of Anakin’s accident and kept it all to himself. . . But in truth, Ferus had suspected this from the very start.
And there is only one logical explanation as to why Obi-Wan had hidden such a key piece of the puzzle. . . Obi-Wan not only has knowledge of Anakin’s injuries, he is responsible for them. There wouldn’t be any other reason to deceive.
But how? How had Anakin become so battered? Had it been all at once, or over time? The suspense that he will soon find out has Ferus’ stomach doing flips.
The couple board the shuttle without a word, and without a glance at one another. Ferus takes the pilot’s seat as they ascend up over the city, while Obi-Wan sets their course for Naboo.
Obi-Wan keeps his eyes fixed on the control panel as he maps out the fastest route, but he can feel Ferus’ judgement as if it’s tangible. Obi-Wan knows Ferus has arrived at the dreadful, condemning conclusion, but now he must plot more than just their trip to Naboo.
When they are sucked into hyperspace, Obi-Wan still lingers over the ship’s main console. The flight deck is tight quarters, and Ferus stands near, but to Obi-Wan, he feels miles away. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his somewhat cold, and possibly unforgiving stance. Ferus is waiting for the promised explanation, and Obi-Wan doesn’t even know where to begin.
“Please don’t hate me,” he mutters weakly, still focused on his own fingers tracing knobs on the control panel.
“I want to know everything.” Ferus is sharp. “Every detail.”
Obi-Wan’s face is pained. He’s quiet for a moment longer, and then he lays it out in the simplest of terms, “He turned,” he gets out tormented and barely audible.
Ferus is well aware of that. He impatiently waits for more.
Obi-Wan doesn’t look up. “I saw the evidence of his turn on the Temple security recordings – I saw things that I won’t tell you about, because I don’t want them to haunt your dreams the way they still do mine.” He keeps his head low and fiddles with the navigation lever.
Ferus remains silent and unmoving.
“When we’d learned of the massacre the clones had committed, Master Yoda and I went to the Temple to program the warning for surviving Jedi to stay away. And something told me. . .” Obi-Wan swallows hard. “Somehow, I knew – I had this terrible feeling Anakin was involved. . . I just. . . knew. But I looked at the recordings anyway; I had to see it for myself. . . It was awful,” he laments. “It was the worst moment of my life, even worse than when my Master died in my arms, because Anakin was dying, and there was no one I had ever loved more.”
Ferus’ features soften. On reflex, he takes a single step forward.
“We couldn’t let the Sith rise,” Obi-Wan continues. “So many Jedi were already lost – we hadn’t known just how many. Master Yoda was to confront Sidious, and it was my duty to confront Anakin.”
Obi-Wan turns away and paces to the other side of the small cockpit. “I went to Padmé. I badgered her to tell me where he was. She wouldn’t. And I was upset; I was frustrated. She blatantly asked me if I’d planned to kill him. . . I didn’t tell her I wouldn’t. I didn’t know what I was going to do, or what I was going to find if I could even locate him. But I was envious. I was envious that she loved him so deeply that even upon finding out about the horrible things he’d done, she still wouldn’t betray him. And I thought about what that meant – that I was operating off the order I had been given to hunt down the love of my life and end the threat. That’s when I knew for certain, everything that was happening was my fault. It all went back to him and me, and how I was always caught between my loyalty to him and my loyalty to the Order, and I wished. . .” Obi-Wan stops as his face further contorts and his lip violently quivers. “For the moment I wished I’d never met him – never brought him here – never loved him, because I ruined him.”
Ferus can no longer keep quiet. Sympathetically, he glides over. Obi-Wan’s back is to him, but he places a hand upon his shoulder. “You didn’t ruin him – it wasn’t your fault,” he soothes.
“It was. It was my fault. And I let that one stupid wish set the course for how I proceeded next. I couldn’t change the fact that I had brought him here, but I knew I had to be the one to take him out of this galaxy, so he couldn’t harm himself or anyone else. I had to find him. I no longer cared what I would find; my Anakin was gone,” Obi-Wan chokes out. “And so, I waited, because I knew Padmé would go to him. I knew she would let her heart lead her, and I pitied her – I thought her a lovesick fool, and I could easily recognize the signs because I had been one, too. Anakin’s crimes had torn me out of my blind love for him. . . but Padmé. . .”
“What happened?” Ferus probes apprehensively as he gingerly tries to get back in Obi-Wan’s field of vision.
“If she had just told me where to find him, I could have gone there alone, but instead, I stowed away on her ship, and she took me to Mustafar – that’s where Anakin was.” Obi-Wan puts a hand to his forehead, then runs it through his hair with the force of stress behind the motion. “He seemed himself for a moment when I watched him and Padmé from afar. He ran to her, embraced her, but before I could revert back to feeling any kind of empathy towards him, he turned on her. I saw her face and how it changed – how she cried while he looked on with a scowl. So, I stepped out. I was his Master, and I knew I needed to put him in his place. . . but that had been a mistake as well, because he absolutely lost it when he saw me. He thought Padmé knew I had been aboard her ship, and he. . . He attacked her, Ferus. He grabbed her by the throat and tried to suffocate her.”
Ferus feels lightheaded – he can easily picture it. He’d tangoed with Vader; he knows what he was like. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.” Because he knows how frightening it is to see this side of the man they both love. Ferus tries to take hold of him, but Obi-Wan pulls away, circling back to the ship’s console and bracing himself upon it with this hands.
“He let her go,” Obi-Wan elaborates further. “I told him to let her go, and for some unexplainable reason, he actually listened to me. But she collapsed. She was still alive; I checked her pulse while Anakin ranted on about how powerful he would become and how he would bring peace. And I just couldn’t take it anymore. I was so angry with him – so disgusted. But I did what a Jedi would do, and I released my anger, prepared to fight. . . But I wish. . .” Obi-Wan weeps. “I wish I had just let myself get angry for once. I wish I had never drawn my weapon. I should’ve tried to have it out with him verbally, but I ignited my lightsaber just like I’d ignited it against the Sith who killed my Master. But it was Anakin. . . but I didn’t see him as Anakin anymore – I lost sight.”
As Obi-Wan breaks down, Ferus puts hands on each of his shaking shoulders from behind and squeezes. “You did what you had to do; you were right to lose sight and separate yourself from the emotional aspect of it. The entire galaxy was at stake, and had a heated argument between you led to your death, you wouldn’t have been able to get Padmé out of there. . . I assume you took her someplace safely to deliver the twins.”
“I did. It might be the only thing I did right.”
“Nothing was right about the entire situation,” Ferus absolves. “You only did what you could do – you made the only choices you could make.”
“You haven’t heard the rest yet. You won’t be making excuses for me when I tell you the rest.”
Ferus waits, but keeps a palm resting near Obi-Wan’s neck.
“We fought. Once I ignited my blade, that was it. I’d provoked him, and we battled – and it went on for what seemed like hours. But even though I had gone there to kill him, at times, the thought of actually taking his life was inconceivable. I was operating a second a time; my thoughts were all over the place. It was horribly confusing. In parts of the battle, I would fight in the defensive, hoping he’d tire out or come to his senses. Other times, I’d tell myself he was an evil Sith that must be destroyed and move into offense. That sense of duty would come and go, replaced with sadness, and guilt, and all the while, I was fighting the most worthy opponent I had ever been up against, because I trained him – he’d learned from me. I could anticipate everything he was going to do, and he could surely foresee my moves as well. Just days before, we had fought together, and we fought as one – as if we were one being, and now we were pitted against each other, and our bond felt broken, and I couldn’t reach him, but I didn’t even try. Even though I didn’t want to kill him, I had already given up on him.”
The palms supporting his weight against the console falter, and Obi-Wan’s elbows come down on it instead. Ferus tries to sustain the hunched form. His hand moves over Obi-Wan’s back as the other grips his bicep. The man weeps, and Ferus isn’t sure if he should suggest the rest of this terrible tale waiting until another time. But Obi-Wan collects himself after a short moment and continues on. . .
“At one point I did try to speak to him, though it wasn’t anything impactful. I told him I failed him – I made it about me. He spatted more slander for the Jedi – as if I were just lumped in that category – as if I meant nothing to him; I was no one of significance, just another Jedi in the Order he betrayed. But in all our years together, I loved him so much, and. . . and I thought he loved me, too,” Obi-Wan blubbers.
Ferus strokes Obi-Wan’s hair. “He did love you, too. Of course he did. I know he did. And more importantly, he does now.” Finally, Ferus is able to pull him close, but Obi-Wan still looks down at his hands as he continues the narration.
“The fight had started on the outskirts of a mining complex,” Obi-Wan informs weakly. “We completely tore the facility apart, and we somehow ended up battling atop the equipment out in the rivers of lava. But the fire shields failed, and the machines broke down, consumed by the lakes. . . Anakin gained his footing on a panning droid over the lava. I managed to get to safety on a bank of the river. . . He knew, and I knew, that was match. It was over. I had the higher ground.”
As Obi-Wan pauses, Ferus knows this is the point in the story that will be the hardest to hear. “He thought he was invincible. . . like he often did when we were kids. He tried to jump past you,” Ferus says it, so Obi-Wan doesn’t have to. His arm is still wrapped firmly around him; he sees Obi-Wan nod, his lips poked out in a devastating pout. Then, he turns into Ferus’ hold and cries. He cries for several minutes, and Ferus lets him, as he tries to avoid picturing the scene in is his head. . . Obi-Wan cutting Anakin down. . . Anakin falling into the lava. . . How had he gotten out? How had he survived? He waits for Obi-Wan to tell him when he’s ready.
“I’m a terrible person,” Obi-Wan sobs from over Ferus’ shoulder.
But Ferus wholeheartedly disagrees. He positions his face close to Obi-Wan’s. “What else could you have done?” he placates. “It was him or you. You couldn’t just stand there and let him kill you. You knew you had to fight – for the sake of his children if nothing else.”
“You don’t understand, there’s more.”
Ferus tenses. “All right.” He tries to lift Obi-Wan’s chin, but he doesn’t budge, so Ferus instead brushes strands from his eyes.
“He fell,” Obi-Wan manages distraught. “Naturally, he fell.” He rolls his eyes. “He was moaning in pain, and I didn’t know what to do, so, I just stood idle.”
“He fell on the bank,” Ferus clarifies.
Obi-Wan nods sniffling. “I screamed at him. My anger and upset finally poured out the way I should have let it from the start. I didn’t even want to help him; I just wanted him to listen – I wanted to make him understand, but he wouldn’t. He screamed back that he hated me,” Obi-Wan bawls. “All the energy it must have taken him to speak in his state, and he made sure to tell me he hated me. . . and I didn’t blame him. . . I hated me, too.” Obi-Wan covers his face with his hands. “Then, it was so hot, and he was sliding closer to the. . . the. . .” he sputters. “He still had the mechno arm he’d had from the start of the war, and he was trying to. . . And I just stood there,” Obi-Wan sobs frantically. “I saw the flames, and I looked away, but I heard his screams.”
Tears form behind Ferus’ eyes, but he holds himself together so that he may hold Obi-Wan, and he does, shriveled, trembling form clutched to his side.
“I heard those screams every night for over a year,” Obi-Wan wails. “And still sometimes, I wonder why I didn’t. . . Why did I leave him? If I wanted victory over the Sith, why didn’t I take it? Why didn’t I just put him out of his misery? What kind of a cruel, disturbed individual lets a person needlessly suffer like that?”
“Your choice was impossible,” Ferus finds it easy to defend. As horrific as the recount has been, Ferus can understand every decision Obi-Wan had made. “I know very well why you couldn’t kill him. And had you tried to help him, he likely wouldn’t have let you; you may have both been injured, or you could’ve ended up dead. I’m so sorry for what you had to go through – I wish I could take it away.”
“I’m glad it was taken away from Anakin, and that’s why I haven’t wanted to tell him.”
Ferus holds his face and thumbs away the freshest tears. “I know we’re wanting to be honest with him going forward, but he doesn’t need to know all the gory details; we don’t have to tell him the things he said – he doesn’t need to know your every thought. He was Sith. You were Jedi. He’ll understand. It’s just another hurdle we have to overcome, and we will.”
“I left him,” Obi-Wan cries. “I left him there, thinking he’d die, all because I couldn’t be the one to take his life, but he didn’t die, and I took his life anyway; I sentenced him to a prison.”
“He’s free now,” Ferus reminds in sensitivity.
“I ruined him,” Obi-Wan repeats his earlier phrase. “I left him there,” he croaks.
“You didn’t leave him. You left Vader. He wasn’t Anakin at that point. I’ve seen what Vader was capable of first hand – I fought him, too, and I did everything in my power to try to defeat him, because I knew if I didn’t, he’d continue to spread darkness across the galaxy. That wasn’t our baby. That wasn’t your boy. You left Vader, but you saved Anakin’s children. That’s what you had to do. It was the right thing to do.”
“Do you honestly believe that? You were there during Anakin’s struggle to recover. Can you honestly render me blameless? Can you honestly have such kind words for me after the hardships I’ve caused him? You were beside yourself when we almost lost him that first morning on Bellassa, and that was directly my fault.”
“If we can render Anakin blameless for the things he’s done as Vader, then why can’t you be rendered blameless for what you had to resort to in fighting Vader? Obi-Wan,” Ferus starts tenderly as he strokes his cheek. “Your circumstances were impossible, sweetheart. Please don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes meet Ferus’ for the first time in the difficult conversation. “He’ll always look in the mirror and think of how it was me who hurt him and left him for dead. And if anything should ever happen to him because of these blasted injuries, I know you’ll resent me— I know you would.” A new batch of tears emerge.
Ferus shushes him and brings him back into his embrace with a kiss to his temple. “I wouldn’t. You haven’t resented me for driving Anakin away; I made such an awful, foolish mistake after Bakura, and all this time you’ve only assured me, and I would give you the very same compassion – because I love you.”
“I thought you’d hate me,” Obi-Wan snivels. “All you’ve done to care for Anakin, and you had to do it all because of me.”
“I could never hate you. And look at all you’ve done for him – what you always have done for him. He loves you so much, Obi-Wan; he won’t hate you either.”
“But I’m going to upset him all over again when he seemed so well on the call.”
“I think he’ll be accepting. You heard him – he found out about Padmé and he’s not even mad; he just wants to talk.” Ferus squeezes him and presses their cheeks together. “Let’s just focus on getting to him. We know where he is now, and he’ll be back in your arms soon.”
Obi-Wan relishes in the thought, but worries Anakin may not want his affections once he learns the truth.
“I can’t wait to see him,” Ferus attempts to focus on the positive moment to come. “It hasn’t even been two full rotations, but it feels as if it’s been a week.”
“I agree; I miss him,” Obi-Wan gets out stuffily. “And I’ve missed his playful spirit since finding out about Vader. I’m looking forward to seeing him – the way he was – our shining ray of light.”
“You’re our shining ray of light.” Ferus kisses the corner of his mouth. “And I promise you, nothing is going to change that – not for me, not for Anakin. . . Except. . .” Ferus smirks. “Maybe it would be best if we don’t tell him that you first bought the wrong model manifold,” he teases. “Can you imagine the disappointment and harsh judgement?”
Obi-Wan actually laughs, and it’s a magnificent release. “Well, wait until he sees the shotty soldering job you did on the wiring harness,” he jabs back.
Ferus’ mouth hangs open, but he cackles. “Give me some slack; I was in a rush – for obvious reasons.” He snuggles Obi-Wan, the top of his head resting nicely under his chin. “We’ll have a proper mechanic back on staff soon.”
Obi-Wan lets out a breath. “Yes, we will,” he agrees in adoration. “Thank you. . . for still loving me.”
“I won’t stop.” Ferus further nuzzles him, feeling it fate, and feeling blessed, that neither of them have to go through this alone.
Notes:
thank you thank you thank you ❤️❤️❤️
Chapter 32
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It is early evening on Naboo, and Sabé has just finished dressing Anakin in the way she once would dress her queen. She’d left him in the neighboring room to look himself over in the full-length mirror, feeling a warmness in her heart.
Sabé now steps into her own formalwear – a plum, tea-length cocktail dress and matching cape. It had been quite a long while since she had dressed up for a special occasion such as this. Her old life feels lightyears away, her days and nights now comprised of sneaking around in attire that is made to blend into the background.
She thinks of Tonra.
Sabé feels regretful that she’d allowed for him to stay behind and continue on with their mission when he could’ve been here with her getting ready to enjoy an evening out. They could’ve had time together outside of the stress of their work, and Tonra could’ve had time with Anakin, too.
But there would be other opportunities for the men to get to know one another; Sabé has decided, in the last rotation alone, changes will take place going forward.
Sabé will continue to honor Padmé as she always has, but this obsessive quest to uncover the mystery of her death won’t alter what has already transpired. And with Anakin’s help, she’s begun to realize, Padmé wouldn’t want her to spend her time this way. Padmé would want her to smile, and grow. She would want her to continue to give her time to the less fortunate, and not just to the deceased.
Sabé looks in the mirror, and she does smile.
On the other side of the wall, Anakin is still looking in the mirror as well. . . not smiling, but scrutinizing.
He hardly recognizes the gentleman in the dark blue suit. Feeling the variation of the rich fabrics, he glides his hand over the gray insert along his shoulder, and down over the cool, dainty fasteners of the breast of his coat. He studies the crisp cuffs of the pants covering sleek, black dress boots. They’re more comfortable than he’d expected, and the same is true of the suit itself. This probably has much to do with the fact that Sabé had offered a soothing lotion for his irritated skin that had been itching for days now. . . He’d left his salve at home with good reason.
Anakin scrunches his mouth in mild disgust upon looking at himself as opposed to his clothing. The standout ensemble somewhat distracts from his scarred, though steadily healing face. But there is one area that is not easily overlooked, and likely won’t ever appear normal. . .
Sabé had product-tamed his hair to give him an untamed, tousled look. His short curls are better defined and swept away from his face. . . and tacked behind his ears.
Anakin brings forward a lock of hair, attempting to straighten it down over his ear to cover it. The length isn’t quite yet long enough to accomplish this goal, but the outcome is better than having the full deformity exposed.
Anakin repeats the process on the other side just as Sabé steps back into the room.
“No,” she fusses as she stalks over to Anakin to undo what he’d just done. “That’ll look silly.” She sets the hair back to the way in which she had originally styled it.
“My ears are what looks silly,” Anakin protests.
“They do not.”
Anakin frowns, examining the wrinkled-looking lobes that are unnaturally fused to the sides of his face. He works on the compromise, “Just the left one.” Instead of straightening, he ruffles the hair there, and the ends of his curls subtly come over a portion of the more severely damaged ear.
Sabé tilts her head to the side as she studies the change. “Asymmetrical. That works.” She smiles. “You look great,” she assures.
Anakin looks himself over again. Does he? Is this what it feels like to look great? It is certainly the only time as of late that he doesn’t totally despise what he sees in the mirror. . . and he is suddenly finding it challenging to keep the smile off his face. But Anakin won’t admit to the rare confidence he feels. . . “I think Obi-Wan and Ferus will like it,” he tries to say it void of enthusiasm, but even without Force-sensitivity, Anakin is sure Sabé knows the excitement for the moment when they see him is there.
“They surely will.”
“I hope they make it in time; I don’t think I’m going to get undressed until they get here – even if the opening is over,” Anakin decides satisfied.
“Sounds like a plan. And offer stands – you three can have the master bedroom tonight,” Sabé urges with a smirk.
Anakin reddens.
“You deserve to be happy,” Sabé tells him more seriously. Because since Anakin had expressed his guilt over whatever had taken place in his past, she knows his lack of self-esteem isn’t just about his appearance.
Anakin looks at her with a knitted brow and sucks in his lips.
“You do,” Sabé reiterates. “And there’s something I want to show you.” She takes Anakin by the hand and leads him to another guest room in the lake house.
Once they step inside, Sabé accesses a large walk-in closet while narrating, “Shortly after Padmé died, I went to her apartment. There was, and still is, an investigation order that things remain intact. It’s being treated like a crime scene, but I know that’s just a cover up – nothing’s changed.” She tries not to let the topic taint the moment, “Ideally, I would’ve packed everything away and brought it all here, but since I wasn’t able to do that, I gathered some of the little things that would go unnoticed - things that I knew meant something to her.” She moves over to an elegant makeup vanity with a plush bench seat.
Anakin watches her forcefully pop open the pad on the stool to reveal a sizable clandestine compartment. He peers inside.
“There wasn’t a lot of evidence that you’d lived with her – mostly because you couldn’t often be there with the war keeping you away, but also because your relationship was to be kept secret. There were clues, though.” Sabé smiles. “If you knew what to look for.” She retrieves a freeze-dried single red rose. “You brought this to the bar that night for your anniversary.”
Anakin’s smile is pouty as he delicately accepts the wilted flower in his hold.
“We were all wild and rowdy that night, but Padmé took care to get a champagne flute of water to preserve this for the evening.” Sabé beams at the memory and reaches back into the storage bench. Now she unfolds a large sheet of parchment. “You drew this,” she informs of the rough, but elaborately accurate sketch of Padmé on the page. “I’ve got lots of your doodles here – doodles, and this fully-rendered custom speeder you designed for her.” She chuckles and hands Anakin the blueprint.
Anakin laughs, not surprised that this is the sort of gift he would’ve given a mate.
“She said you always needed to keep your hands busy, and when you were able to stay at the apartment with her, you’d get up in the middle of the night and draw, since you didn’t have any engine parts to piddle with. She saved them all.”
Anakin looks through the amateur artwork. He did enjoy putting the pen to paper in his youth, but there was always something else to do at the Temple – some form of training to complete, exams to study for, machinery to fix, droids to repair. He wonders now if his mechanical hands can still create the way they once did.
Sabé leaves him to look through the art as she opens a vanity drawer and removes an insert that had given the illusion of an empty space. “I had to dig to find this. She had it well hidden. Because if anyone saw it, they’d know exactly where it came from. . . or they could get a DNA sample from it if they really wanted to know.” Sabé chortles as she offers Anakin a small, wood-carved box.
He gently places the rose and drawings on the vanity top and accepts the trinket. He lifts the hinged lid, and his eyes widen at seeing what’s inside. “Oh my—oh, Force. Is this. . .? This is mine??” And of course it is. Who else would it belong to? Padmé wouldn’t have a distinctly-banded, braided lock of hair from anyone else. “Oh, Maker.” Tears spill over Anakin’s cheeks as he looks at Sabé wrecked. All his life, he’d dreamed of becoming a Jedi, and he had done it, but sadly, he could not recall achieving the rank. Here was the evidence that he had.
Anakin had assumed his severed braid had been saved, but suspected it had been kept in the Temple and was long gone with all the other Jedi relics, but here it was, held in his own two hands. . . Well, hands that served as his own. To have given Padmé this priceless treasure, Anakin can get a greater sense of just how much he loved and trusted her.
“You take these things back to Bellassa with you, okay?”
“Thank you,” Anakin tells Sabé shakily.
“You’re welcome. . . And there’s one more thing.”
Anakin looks at her inquisitively as he sniffles.
“I’m sure you remember that small piece of japor ivory you had given her as a good luck charm when you’d first met.”
“I do.” Anakin’s eyes brighten through the haze.
“I don’t have that for you, before you get too excited, but I can tell you that she turned it into a pendant, and always wore in around her neck; and she still wears it now – it rests with her in her tomb.”
Anakin’s heart skips a beat, touched that Padmé would’ve worn the symbolic token all the years they hadn’t spent together.
“But before she wore that pendant, she used to wear this one.” Sabé pulls a chain from inside of the high collar of her dress.
The light hits a lovely locket, the silver appearing aged, but clearly well-loved. It is oval-shaped, an open pattern of scrollwork with the symbol of Naboo in the center. A sparkling, triangular shaped diamond is set in the lowest part of the crest.
“She gave this to me when we were young girls,” Sabé recalls. “It was just after the blockade had begun, right before Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had arrived. We knew our lives were about to change; we knew we would soon face our greatest challenges, and she knew I was worried about trying to impersonate her at such a crucial moment. She passed this to me without a word, had me turn around so she could clasp it around my neck. There was a silent understanding of a vow that we would get through the occupation. We would survive together, and so would Naboo. When we prevailed, and the battle was won, I tried to give it back to her, but she refused.” Sabé covers the locket with her palm. “I want you to have it, so she may be close to your heart as she’s been close to mine.”
“No!” Anakin nearly shouts as he involuntarily takes a step back. “No, I can’t take that from you – that belongs with you!”
“I want you to have it. She would want you to have it.”
“No,” Anakin shakes his head, his hands up in surrender. “She wouldn’t. This was something special she shared with you; it belongs with you,” he insists.
“I’ve worn it for many years; I feel it’s time to pass it on,” Sabé defends, without her usual confidence.
“If you really feel that way, then pass it on to one of her nieces, or maybe you’ll have a daughter someday, but I think for now, you should keep wearing it. I have a strong feeling that’s what she would want. It doesn’t belong with me. It belongs with you.”
Sabé is wordless for the moment, her instinct to argue further, but the will to do so lost. . . She’d hoped Padmé would have a daughter to pass it on to.
“I am more than happy to have the things you’ve already given me – the physical things, and the recap of the memories I lost,” Anakin continues. “I wouldn’t feel right to take it. Please. It wouldn’t only make her happy to know you have it, but it would make me happy, too.”
“Are you sure?” Sabé gets out hushed.
“I’m positive.” Anakin sees the emotional relief welling up; Sabé hadn’t wanted to give up the locket, but felt it was the admirable thing to do. Anakin appreciates her honestly – she hadn’t even needed to mention the locket at all, but cared enough for him to offer the choice to take it. Anakin swoops her into his hold. “Thank you – for everything.”
Sabé fights tears. “Thank you – for still being here; it feels like I have a piece of her back.”
Anakin takes her hands and smiles. “I’m so glad we found each other. You’ve given me so much. You’ve been so transparent – you’ve given me the truth, and that’s been hard to come by.”
Sabé flinches, knowing she hadn’t been as honest as she could be. . . Her remorseful eyes meet Anakin’s gaze. “Anakin, there’s something else I need t—”
“There you are!” Eirtama enters the room.
Anakin’s eyes sparkle when he sees her – all dressed and ready for her big show. She is outfitted in a long, turquoise gown, and her naturally straight, blonde hair is set in voluminous, vintage waves.
“Oh, Eirtama, you look gorgeous,” Sabé praises breathless.
“Thank you; so do you.” The two women embrace. “And Anakin – the vision brought to life! You look perfect!”
Anakin smiles bashfully and shakes his head. “No, you look perfect,” he professes.
“You’re so sweet,” Eirtama grins. “Are you both ready to go? Can we still ride together?”
“Of course,” Sabé agrees.
“Thank you,” Eirtama blows out. “I’m starting to feel the jitters,” she admits.
“We’ll be right there with you,” Sabé vows.
“Ladies. . .” Anakin sticks out both elbows for the women to interlock their arms with his own. “I’d say I’m the luckiest man in the galaxy to get to stroll in with the two of you. . . This is going to confuse a lot of people, though.”
“What do you mean?” Sabé queries.
“Two gorgeous girls. . . one hideous guy.”
“Stop!” Sabé swats at him, and the three laugh. “You’ll turn a lot of heads tonight, but not for being hideous. . . quite the opposite, actually.”
And Anakin does indeed attract attention when they enter the venue. He is introduced by the name on his false ID docs, Akkani Nylidam. . . an old friend from Eirtama’s art school days. No one seems to question this information, but Padmé’s parents, Ruwee and Jobal, are told of Anakin’s real identity from the start.
Even though the couple hadn’t known of their daughter’s marriage, they had known of her special bond with the young Jedi who had once saved their planet, and more than once saved their daughter. Sabé knew Anakin’s presence would be a comfort to them.
Naturally, as the hostess, Eirtama is pulled away from the start, so Sabé and Anakin first walk the exhibit together.
Anakin has always held an appreciation for the arts, and Eirtama is an unbelievably talented artist. But beyond that, Anakin realizes just how brilliant she is. He had expected paintings, and there were paintings, but the exhibit is also one of an engineer.
The full display outlines the successes of Eirtama’s renowned blue-algae project, in which she had implemented a process of injecting paint pigments into bubbles within the Gungan City. This had not only aided in the growth of, but also created an advanced version of the natural fertilizer.
The aquatic art was brought to the surface with demonstrations of how her research had worked. The result – glorious underwater orbs of color, illuminated with the lights of the land. There were also photos of the project beneath the surface, as well as paintings Eirtama had done to depict it. And to highlight it all, an amazing watercolor portrait of the queen who had first united Naboo and the Gungan City below.
Tonight was just for family and close friends to show their support, but the following evening would double as a charity event, as pieces would be auctioned off with proceeds going to the abolishment of slavery in the outer rim planets – it was what her majesty would have wanted, and Anakin felt honored and loved to know Padmé’s wish had much to do with his painful past. Padmé had continued to fight for him after he had left Tatooine, and she was still fighting for him. She was still with them.
Mesmerized, Anakin takes any opportunity to circle the display tables again and again. He walks through them with Padmé’s mother, then again with her father, and once more with Sabé before her and Jobal disappear to assist with various tasks behind the scenes.
Anakin is left with instructions to stay with Padmé’s father, Ruwee serving as a guard to make sure he is never approached alone to be probed by anyone interested in his backstory. . . or interested in a date.
Anakin could definitely feel eyes on him, but he mostly sensed curiosity, albeit there was that occasional wave of lust as Sabé had predicted.
Into the second hour, and after another couple of laps around the gallery with Ruwee, Anakin finds himself feeling anxious for Obi-Wan and Ferus to arrive. He hopes they’ll make it soon, but it has already been predetermined that they wouldn’t be able to come into the event if they did – the three of them together would surely spark memories of their Jedi origins. But Anakin is very eager for them to see the marvelous creations of his talented new friend, and Ruwee had had a wonderful idea. . .
In the chance that they'd make it sooner rather than later, Anakin had intended to meet them outside anyway. If they hang around until the close of the show, they could step into the empty venue for a private viewing.
Finally, about forty minutes before the exhibit end, Sabé summons Anakin with a smile. He rushes to join her in a secluded corner.
“They’re here,” Sabé alerts. “They’ve just contacted me, and they’re on-world. They’ll dock their ship, and should be here shortly.”
Anakin feels as if he could burst.
Sabé chuckles, seemingly reading his thoughts. “Now before you run out the door, I’ve told them you’ll be in the garden on the far side of the building. No one should be out there; our guests are using the entry patio for any outdoor entertaining. Take my speeder back to the cabin – I know you won't have any issue getting in.”
“How will you get back?”
Sabé waves a hand. “I’ll find a ride. I’m sure Saché can drop me.”
“Well, I was actually thinking I’d bring Obi-Wan and Ferus in after everyone else left so they could see Eirtama’s work.”
“That can wait until morning.” Sabé winks. “The archive isn’t open to the public until oh-nine-hundred on the weekend.”
“You’re the best.” Anakin hugs her. “I’m nervous,” he giggles, gesturing to himself. “They won’t be expecting to see me like this.”
“They’ll be surprised, without a doubt, but they’ll love the surprise, I’m sure. . . Go,” Sabé encourages.
Anakin pecks her cheek and hastily moves for the exit.
*
“A blasted party,” Obi-Wan blows out stressfully.
He and Ferus are hustling to get to the archive. Sabé had explained that they were at an art gallery opening, omitting the details, such as it being a formal event.
“I’m sure he’s being safe. He knows what to do by now,” Ferus reasons, surprised that he isn’t the one panicking over Anakin’s well-being for once.
“We’ll need to get in there and take inventory of the crowd in case trouble finds us. Anakin likely wouldn’t have told Sabé that he’s the Empire’s number one target right now. We don’t know who we can trust.”
“Well, from what you’ve said of Sabé, we can trust her.”
Obi-Wan breathes in again. “Yes.”
“She knows Anakin is a target for the simple fact that he’s a Jedi. I’m sure they’re both being careful.”
Obi-Wan’s shoulders relax. “When did you get all rational? You’re suddenly that logical Padawan again.”
“‘Logical.’ Ha.” Ferus laughs. “Back then, you wanted to call me another name, admit it.”
“Insufferable.” Obi-Wan grins cheekily. “The bane to my baby’s existence.”
Ferus cackles.
“You were always a good boy,” Obi-Wan tells him adoringly. “Too good,” he smirks. “Even the Masters had to be on their toes whenever you were around – wouldn’t want to break any rules for Ferus Olin to point out.”
Ferus frowns. “I’m glad Anakin isn’t here for this. He would be all too eager to join in.”
“Actually, I was thinking he’d probably scold me for taunting you.” Obi-Wan slows his steps and takes Ferus’ hand. “Because you deserve only praise for all you do for us. . . Thank you,” he breathes in a fresh wave of calm. “I’m back.”
“Welcome.”
Their pace stays faster than average, but they are now hand in hand, almost giddy, as they move closer to the archive. When they make it to the garden Sabé had described, they see one individual in the distance and proceed cautiously.
“Is that him?” Ferus questions, a tad embarrassed he can’t recognize his beloved.
“I. . . I don’t think so. . . Maybe?” Obi-Wan squints in the dark. The silhouette is familiar – the height, the build. But the attire? The perfectly coiffed hair? Though, as the figure turns, there isn’t a doubt in Obi-Wan’s mind.
Ferus registers that this is Anakin the same moment Obi-Wan does. They charge forward, and Anakin does as well.
Obi-Wan gets to him first, smothering him in his clutches, his emotions getting the better of him. Ferus is less than a second behind, wrapping them both in his hold.
Anakin hears his Master’s soft cries and can’t help but get choked up as well, “I’m sorry,” he blubbers.
“It’s all right,” Ferus soothes for Obi-Wan and Anakin alike.
“I had to,” Anakin repeats what he’d told them earlier on the call. “I had to,” he whimpers.
“We understand,” Ferus promises sweetly. “As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters. You’re safe.” He kisses Anakin’s temple and squeezes the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, the man’s wet face buried in Anakin’s opposite cheek.
“I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin tries to reach him directly since he hadn’t replied.
“It’s okay, baby,” Obi-Wan snivels. He better composes himself, pressing a kiss to the corner of Anakin’s mouth and finally lifting his head. Now, he rears back and breaks out into a grin at the sight of him. “What exactly have you been doing?” His chuckle is joyful as he wipes at his misty eyes. “Here Ferus and I haven’t showered in days, and you show up looking like this!”
Anakin’s cheeks turn pink, but his face is glowing.
“My babydoll all dressed up,” Ferus further plays on his bashfulness.
“You like it?” Anakin’s question comes out expectant, but shy.
“Love it; you look sensational.”
“A vision,” Obi-Wan adds. “Absolutely stunning.” He holds Anakin’s jaw and watches him further brighten in spite of the shadows of the night.
“I picked the color, but Sabé chose the cut – I want to pull some credits from my synth-flesh fund to pay her back,” Anakin informs urgently.
“Don’t even worry about that,” Ferus tells him. “We’ll take care of it.” Now he can’t resist touching Anakin’s face as well, as if to test that something so beautiful could actually be real. His finger grazes one of the curls coiling over his ear.
“Sabé fixed my hair, too,” Anakin feels the need to point out.
“It looks great,” Ferus asserts. “But what’s the occasion?”
Anakin is eager to answer this question. “Eirtama; she’s another one of the handmaidens – she’s an artist! And sort of like a scientist, and her work is displayed inside. It’s amazing, and I can’t wait for you to see. Sabé says we can have a private viewing in the morning, so we don’t attract attention as a group. Eirtama is the one who found me – I was in the archive when I first got here, looking for information about Padmé, and she recognized me! She contacted Sabé, and I’m staying with her at Padmé’s family’s lake house.” Anakin sucks in a breath after having spoken so quickly.
“You’ve been on quite the adventure,” Obi-Wan says softly, stroking the locks that are tucked behind Anakin’s right ear. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about Padmé, sweetheart.”
“So, you did know,” Anakin returns. “Sabé said she was pretty sure you knew.”
“I knew,” Obi-Wan whispers shamefully. “I’m sorry, love.”
Anakin is quiet for a moment. “Didn’t you want to be at the wedding? Or was it. . . ? Did you already have feelings for me at that time?”
“The wedding??” Obi-Wan can’t hide his shock.
“My wedding to Padmé,” Anakin clarifies in confusion.
Ferus’ eyes are large as he and Obi-Wan exchange looks.
“Well, I didn’t know that.” There is humor in Obi-Wan's voice. “It had become clear to me you were in a relationship with her, but I absolutely did not know you were married.”
“Oh. . .” Anakin lets out an uncomfortable chuckle. “Um. . . surprise.”
Smitten, Obi-Wan and Ferus laugh.
“The dream I had – or the vision, it was of my wedding,” Anakin explains. “Sabé told me it was just Padmé and me at the ceremony; she wasn’t there either – it was a secret. But I just can’t believe I wouldn’t have told you. I’m sure I would’ve wanted you there.”
Obi-Wan contemplates. “When did this wedding take place?”
“When I was nineteen. Sabé said it was when Padmé and I first reconnected for a mission.”
Obi-Wan howls in laughter. “Of course it was. Of course you would immediately get married the second she reentered your life.” He sees Anakin shoot him a guilty look. “Oh, Anakin, my Anakin. Always led by the heart. Come here, baby.”
Anakin hugs him and lets his head rest on his Master’s shoulder. “You’re not mad?”
“Now how could I be mad?” Obi-Wan croons.
“Well, because I hid it from you, and I probably broke about seventeen different Jedi rules. . . Ferus would’ve never approved,” Anakin adds slyly as he transfers to Ferus’ hold, and Obi-Wan is laughing again.
“So, I followed the rules!” Ferus fusses. “Was that such a bad thing??” he gripes, not sure how this topic seems to keep resurfacing tonight, though, he isn’t actually offended.
“No,” Anakin says plainly as he nuzzles Ferus with his nose from cheek to chest.
Ferus kisses the top of his head. “I missed you so much, babydoll.”
“I missed you, too. Thank you for coming to get me.”
“Of course we came.” Ferus rubs Anakin’s shoulders. “Thank you for telling us where you were; we were in the midst of tearing apart Coruscant when you called.”
“Really? You went to Coruscant to try to find me?” Anakin asks.
“You actually thought we’d sit at home and wait?”
“I told you to,” Anakin points out.
“And what would you have done if the situation were reversed?” Ferus raises a brow.
Anakin ponders. “Tore apart Coruscant to find you.”
“Exactly,” Ferus laughs. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” He squeezes Anakin tighter.
“I’m. . . I feel better. I know I haven’t been away for long at all, but I feel like a lot has changed. I do want to talk – maybe some tonight, just the three of us, and then again tomorrow with Sabé.” Anakin’s request is phrased for validation.
“Yes, love, absolutely. No more secrets. . . We have more we want to tell you, too,” Obi-Wan informs hesitantly.
Anakin nods. “There’s so much I want to share with you about Padmé. I’ve learned all these wonderful things about her. She was amazing, even more so than I thought.”
“She was,” Obi-Wan acknowledges. “And I’d love to hear more.”
“And if we could, I want us all to visit her memorial together.”
“We’ll do that,” Ferus agrees tenderly.
“Does. . . Does Roan have a. . .” Anakin shies away from the prompt.
Ferus averts his eyes and nods emotionally. “He does.”
“I understand if you wouldn’t want me anywhere near it, but. . .” Anakin snivels. “Ferus, I’m so sorry – I wish I could take it back,” he bawls.
“I know you do, baby, and I appreciate that. I love you, okay?”
“I love you, too. I feel better, but I still feel so bad. I’m sorry,” Anakin whimpers again.
Ferus shushes him. “Let’s get you back to the house, yes?” He sees Anakin’s head bob. “And you look much too handsome to cry tonight.” He wipes a tear from Anakin’s cheek, then presses three sensual kisses to the side of his face. When Anakin meets his gaze, Ferus grins. “We’ve got to get him dressed up like this more often,” he tells Obi-Wan.
“Agreed.” Obi-Wan wraps his arms around the both of them. “Because I can tell you’re feeling as beautiful as you look, and that’s the best part about it.”
Anakin flushes, batting his eyes. “Maybe. . . I do feel. . . kind of nice.”
“You certainly look nice.” Obi-Wan places a sweet smooch to his irresistible lips.
“I missed you,” Anakin hums contentedly, their faces still close. He kisses Obi-Wan this time – passionately, desperately, his body going limp at the heat building between them.
Ferus chuckles, keeping a supportive hand on Anakin, but loosening his grip to give him over to Obi-Wan, who devours his apprentice in return, with hands framing his face.
When Anakin comes up for air, he wastes no time in breaking free from his Master to latch onto Ferus. He ardently takes a fistful of his silky hair with one hand and his shirt collar with the other as his needy tongue explores the inside of his mouth.
Suddenly, Anakin halts, and looks to Ferus in anticipation.
Ferus shows his teeth. “Ready to go?” he asks intently.
With a monumental grin, Anakin nods. “Before we do, I’d like to go in and say goodbye to Padmé’s parents. I sort of rushed out when Sabé told me you were here; originally, I was thinking we’d all go back in tonight. Sabé knew I would be leaving with you, but they didn’t, and I don’t want to seem rude.” Anakin waits for approval.
“All right.” Obi-Wan holds Anakin’s neck affectionately. “We’ll wait here.”
“Kay,” Anakin sparks. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” He pecks Obi-Wan’s cheek and Ferus’ lips, then scampers off.
Transfixed, Obi-Wan and Ferus watch him go.
“I’m sorry,” Ferus deadpans. “Where are we? What are we doing again? I’m suddenly at a loss.” He is still watching Anakin diminish in the distance. “All I see is him. . . He looks. . . I mean, my god! What is he doing to us?” Ferus laughs.
Obi-Wan does as well. “He looks incredible. A rare combination of utterly adorable and devastatingly sexy.”
“Oh, Force, yes. And you were right; he’s feeling confident, too. . . It’s apparent – this really has been good for him.”
“It has. He sounded so renewed on the call, but the happiness radiating from him now. . . I don’t want to take it away,” Obi-Wan sighs.
“You won’t. It’s going to be fine. He seems very open-minded; he was worried you were mad about the wedding!” Ferus bursts into laughter. “How did you miss that one, Master Kenobi?”
“There was a lot going on,” Obi-Wan defends comically. “For Force’s sake.” He shakes his head smiling. “He will never cease in amazing me.”
“That’s good. He’ll keep you on your toes, old man.”
“Not nice,” Obi-Wan pouts, then aggressively wrestles Ferus into his hold.
Ferus giggles. “Just because I’m a ‘rule follower,’" he spits the two words, “That doesn’t automatically make me nice.”
“Ah.” Obi-Wan smiles. “I see. This is payback.” He seals their lips together. “Love you.”
Ferus answers with a kiss of the same caliber as the ones Anakin had just given them.
Obi-Wan grips him by the waist, hands sliding over his firm rear.
Ferus claws at his back, then separates their mouths enough to speak, “We better wait for Anakin.”
“On the contrary, he’ll thoroughly enjoy walking up and witnessing this.” Obi-Wan grins devilishly.
Ferus laughs. “I can’t wait to get him home!”
Obi-Wan cackles at the joke in regards to their mission on Bakura. “Or at least back to the lake house for now. It sounds like he’s really loving it there.”
“I bet so. I’m sure it’s beautiful.”
“Like him,” Obi-Wan notes.
Ferus smiles. “You know, after tonight, we—”
An abrupt and alarming disturbance in the Force silences them both. Shock registers upon their faces.
“Anakin!!” Obi-Wan shrieks in terror.
They sprint for the archive entrance.
Notes:
😅😅😅 I know many of you thought shit was going to go down when Anakin first left. . . or when Ferus and Obi-Wan got to Coruscant. . . In the words of Anakin, “Um. . . surprise.” 😁 And in the words of both Obi-Wan and Ferus, gotta keep you ‘on your toes.’ 😏
Now that you know we are upon a major climax, I think it a good time to tell you we are somewhat nearing the end. Looking ahead, I think this story will end up being about 39 chapters, so I’ve put that number in the count above. We shall see! I feel like I’m about to do a lot of plot over-hauling going forward, and I’m actually a little stressed about it.Anyway! There’s more references to E.K. Johnston Queen’s trilogy in this chapter. In the books, there was a vague mention of Padmé giving Sabé a locket before the occupation, that Sabé tried to give back to her after the battle was won, but that was about it – the vague mention. So, I got to decide what it looked like!
And sad sidenote, Sabé ends up parting with the locket when she gives herself a new identity to search for information on Padmé’s death. BUT I like to pretend she’d stored it at the lake house for safe keeping. . . which is why it’s back on her neck now.
There’s also a little more about Eirtama’s art in this chapter. The Gungan blue-algae project was a thing in Johnston’s books! But as I said a couple of author’s notes back, I decided she needed an art gallery 💪🏻Anakin’s attire! Oh. My. Gawd. Well, I knew from the start I wanted him in blue (and coincidentally, I ended up dressing my husband in blue for an event we went to last weekend - shopping and all 💙). But just yesterday, a friend and I were discussing the fabulous fashions from the Andor show, and as if it were written in the stars, she showed me THIS:
Yep! That’s it! That’s what Anakin was wearing! It has to be; I can picture it 😍 And let’s all focus on that, and how confident our boy was 🥰 and not whatever fresh hell is upon them all 😳One more tidbit: I first wrote this chapter a little over a year ago when this picture first surfaced in an online post. . .
At the time, everyone was commenting on the post like, “WHAT IS HE EVEN DOING?!!?” (seriously – man trying to kill us) This heavily inspired some of Ferus’ dialogue about Anakin after he walked away 😂Thank you so much for reading! Ah! I’m so excited for you to read more. It feels surreal to have gotten to this point! We have come such a long way 🥹 Next week marks a year since I started posting this story, and just think about where these characters were at that time! Anakin was all beat up and couldn’t breathe. Ferus was so angry and conflicted about him. And Obi-Wan was a sad desert hermit! 😱 Wild. I hope you’re enjoying reading about the journeys of these characters as much as I am enjoying writing them 💙💙💙
Chapter 33
Notes:
Hello there!
So, I have some news, if you didn’t already know. Last weekend, I wrote a little fic 😍 Like, truly a little fic of only one thousand words! It turns out I have the capability to write something small and angst free! Who knew?!
If you are interested in reading it, check out my works page; it is called Evangeline. . . and kind of oddly relates to this chapter, I am just realizing 🤔
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ferus and Obi-Wan are stunned when they burst through the archive doors and nothing appears amiss.
The couple dozen guests in attendance are all looking their way at the clamorous entrance, but none exhibit markers of distress; they all stand idle – puzzled and staring.
Sabé hastens to the pair.
“Master Kenobi,” she greets hushed, and dazed. “What’s wrong?” Because she knows something isn’t right. “Master Olin, I presume,” she acknowledges Ferus.
“I apologize for crashing the party,” Obi-Wan replies. “And to be reacquainted in such an inappropriate and abrupt way, but something is wrong. Where is Anakin?”
Sabé’s brow furrows. “I sent him out to meet you no more than twenty minutes ago. He’s not in the gardens?” she asks in alarm.
“He was; we saw him, but he’d just come back inside to bid Mr. and Mrs. Naberrie goodbye,” Obi-Wan explains.
“Oh.” Sabé spins on her heel and spots Ruwee. She motions for Obi-Wan and Ferus to follow.
“Papà,” Sabé calls to her honorary father. “Did Anakin come through here?”
“Hello,” Ruwee cordially addresses Sabé’s companions, trying to remain obscure after recognizing one of them as Anakin’s Jedi Master. He sees the war veteran give a brief, but insightful nod. “He did. He told me he was calling it a night; I directed him to the kitchen to see Jobal.”
“I just came from the kitchen,” Sabé mutters to herself.
But Obi-Wan and Ferus both hear her, reigniting that spark of intuition that something isn’t right, though they hold onto the slither of hope that they will find Anakin right where Ruwee had assumed him to be.
Sabé forces a smile. “Thank you, Papà.”
Obi-Wan gives Ruwee another laden look and shakes his hand. Ferus wordlessly does the same, and the three of them move for the kitchen.
Obi-Wan’s heart sinks when he realizes the distance Anakin would’ve traveled to get there, passing many doors and facility exits. Dread fills him; he knows Anakin never made it to the kitchen, and he knows Ferus knows this as well.
Ferus breaks off and begins investigating what lies beyond the passed doors. Obi-Wan is aware of what he is doing, and he is grateful; he keeps in step with Sabé.
“Madre,” Sabé calls.
Jobal's eyes sparkle when she sees Obi-Wan. She abandons her current task and ushers to Sabé and the unexpected guest, her face conveying increased concern with each stride. “Master Kenobi, it’s good to see you. What’s happened?” She takes his hand with urgency.
Sabé gets right to it, “Have you seen Anakin?”
“No,” Jobal replies anxiously. “Not very recently. Is everything all right?”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation, but please let me know if you see him,” Sabé requests.
“Of course, and if I can do anything at all, in any capacity, for the Jedi, please let me know,” Jobal speaks directly to Obi-Wan.
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan kisses the top of her hand before releasing it. He wishes there were more time for pleasantries, and to extend his condolences over the loss of her daughter.
“I’m guessing this isn’t a game of hide-and-seek,” Sabé whispers to Obi-Wan as they return to the hallway.
Obi-Wan shakes his head gravely. Like Ferus, he wants to search every crack and crevice of this archive, but in his gut, he knows Anakin isn’t here.
“What exactly happened?” Sabé keeps her voice low. “What prompted you to come look for him inside?”
“Just a feeling; Ferus and I both felt it.”
“Where do you think he went?”
“The question is more where he’s been taken, and by whom. Though, I am quite certain Palpatine is involved.”
Sabé suppresses a gasp, joining her hands together over her chest.
“Someone blew Anakin’s cover,” Obi-Wan continues. “I’ll need a list of every guest that attended this event tonight.”
“Of course, but I don’t think. . . I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan,” Sabé breathes out.
“You aren’t to blame,” Obi-Wan tells her adamantly; Anakin wouldn’t have even been on Naboo had it not been for his hidden truths. “I don’t suspect Anakin told you he is Palpatine’s prime target at the moment.”
“No, he hadn’t mentioned that,” Sabé affirms.
“I can’t explain the reasoning now, but please, Palpatine is a Naboo native – do you know of anyone here who would be loyal to him that might have turned Anakin in?”
“None of us support the Empire or Palpatine that I know of. And no one even knew Anakin would be here tonight. He hadn’t decided to come until this morning; there’s no way Palpatine could’ve traveled here so quickly since the event began just a couple of hours ago.”
Obi-Wan processes this as he tries to make sense of the situation. Who else would’ve known about Anakin soon enough to tip off the enemy? . . . Anakin had said he’d encountered the other handmaiden first, “Eirtama. . .” he proposes the name remorsefully.
“No,” Sabé defends sharply. “She has no Imperial ties. And if she were not loyal to me and to Naboo, she would not have told me Anakin was here at all. Master Obi-Wan, I know you’re worried, but please believe me, Eirtama would never serve the Empire.”
Obi-Wan does believe her. “What has your schedule been like since Anakin’s arrival? Have you visited many public places? Met with many people?”
“Not at all. Eirtama encountered Anakin right here at the archives yesterday morning. She took him straight to me at the lake house, and we stayed there all evening and through the night. We went to town for a couple of hours this morning to get him something to wear, and then we had lunch, but we kept a low profile.”
“No one approached you while you were out? Did you feel anyone staring or perhaps did Anakin say or do anything that would’ve told you he were uncomfortable?”
“No, and we were careful. Anakin told me you and Ferus would be worried about him being out. He kept his head covered. He remained in a private dressing area while I shopped for his clothes, bringing the different choices back and forth. He selected a dining seat with his back to the crowd.”
“I need the name of the establishment where you had lunch. I also need to know where you did your shopping.”
Sabé swallows hard and nods compliantly.
“I apologize if I am coming across harsh,” Obi-Wan changes his tune to project softer speech.
“No, it’s okay; I would be asking the same questions,” Sabé validates.
Obi-Wan is regretful for the way this has played out; he’d been looking forward to seeing Sabé, to express his wide range of gratitude for all she's done, not to interrogate her. “Thank you,” he stretches out the words as he looks her in the eye. “Thank you for your cooperation, and thank you for respecting his safety while you were with him. I don’t know what all you’ve discussed, but Anakin has had a very hard time as of late, and just in the short reunion I was allowed with him, I could see that you’ve helped him immensely. Thank you,” he tells her again in sincerity.
Sabé lips curl slightly. “You’re welcome,” she returns whole-heartedly. “He’s helped me as well; he’s restored a piece of joy that I thought I’d never know again.”
Obi-Wan frowns emotionally. That was his Anakin – a light to everyone around him, even when finding himself in the midst of darkness.
Sabé squeezes his arm. “He’s a fighter, Obi-Wan. I know he’ll be all right.”
Obi-Wan lets out a breath and bobs his head.
“I’ll find Eirtama. I’ll ask her if she remembers anyone else being here at the archives yesterday morning when she spotted him. And I’ll gather all the other information you asked for.”
It’s a start. Obi-Wan sees Ferus coming down the hall – Leven hovering beside him. But the stress on Ferus’ face doesn’t give him faith that the droid had anything in his memory bank that would help them.
Sabé gives Ferus a sympathetic look as she moves past him to get back to the showroom to find Eirtama.
Ferus aims for a respectable smile, but fails. Shortly thereafter, he falls into Obi-Wan's open arms.
Anakin’s little droid lets out a mopey hum, and Obi-Wan looks at it sadly in solidarity.
“There’s no trace of him,” Ferus informs discouraged. “I’ve questioned most all of the guests – no one’s seen him. And I don’t sense any deception. . . I can’t believe this,” he blows out pained.
Obi-Wan cradles the back of Ferus’ head and massages his scalp as his observant eyes scan the halls. “Sabé is going to compile some data for us – the places they’d gone together this morning and some contact information for the individuals involved.”
“I really don’t think anyone here betrayed him.”
“I am getting the same sense.”
“How did he just vanish? I went outside and searched the lots and the skies. . . We would’ve heard a ship depart – it doesn’t make any sense. It can’t be an inquisitor; they would’ve come with troops and made a scene. There’s no sign of a struggle anywhere around here – he’s just. . . gone. . . and we just got him back,” Ferus laments with a lump in his throat.
“We’ll have him back again.”
“How will we find him? Palpatine’s location is never disclosed; Coruscant was never a home base – he just wants people to think that. I know from working closely with him that he's stationed on a cruisier – it could be anywhere in space.”
“We’ll find him. We’ll figure it out,” Obi-Wan relays convincingly. “We just have to think like Jedi – we have to clear our minds. I know it isn’t easy, because we don’t have the luxury of being detached from the situation. But our love for him will aid us; I believe that. We’ll find him.”
Ferus doesn’t say what he’s thinking. . . ‘What if we find him too late?’ Sidious won’t be forgiving when he learns that Anakin is Anakin again. "We promised him," Ferus sniffles. "We promised him we'd keep him safe."
Obi-Wan feels the burning in his sinuses. “Let’s check with Sabé and see if we can go to the vacation home as planned. Perhaps there are clues there.”
Ferus finds himself feeling implausible hope that this was all some odd misunderstanding and Anakin will be there waiting for them. . .
But he isn’t, and there isn’t any evidence that he’d been back there at all.
“Give me ten minutes to change and pack, and I’ll be ready to go,” Sabé announces as she breezes through the living area on her way to the back of the house.
“Go where?” Obi-Wan inquires.
“Wherever you think Anakin may have been taken.”
“Well, we don’t know where Anakin has been taken.” Obi-Wan had thought that obvious.
“I don’t think he’s on Naboo,” Sabé predicts. “We should probably just head to Coruscant, don’t you think? We can make a plan on the way.”
“We?” Obi-Wan questions. “My dear,” he begins somewhat firmly. “I know you care for Anakin, but it isn’t safe for you t—”
Sabé bursts into sarcastic laugher. “You can’t be serious. You’re not about to give me the speech to stay behind; you wouldn’t dare,” she scolds feistily.
Ferus actually snorts at Obi-Wan’s look of disbelief.
Obi-Wan starts to argue, but then he remembers who he’s dealing with – a double of Padmé. . . fierce, relentless, heroic Padmé, who had never been inclined to sit on the sidelines while the people she cared for were in peril.
“My duty to my queen extends to her former partner,” Sabé defends. “And to my friend. . . Anakin’s my friend,” she adds less brusquely. “And I’m going to help you find him, even if I have to follow you out on a second ship.”
Leven whistles in excitement as Obi-Wan and Ferus remain silent – and obedient.
“Two vehicles will surely make us more conspicuous,” Sabé points out. “So, whose ship are we taking?”
*
Lord Sidious had known it. He knew Vader’s disappearance had something to do with that martyr of a dead wife. He’d thought eliminating her would fuel his apprentice’s rage – drive him further into darkness to reach his full potential. But Vader had chosen to be weak – to have a silly and pitiful broken heart.
Skywalker had been obsessed with the woman, and Vader couldn’t let that go. He couldn’t let Anakin go. Anakin Skywalker should’ve died along with Amidala. . .
Sidious fumes at the thought – these dead spouses had foiled his plans one too many times. . . If only he could’ve seduced Ferus Olin to become his new protégé, then Vader wouldn’t be a concern at the present, because Olin would’ve killed him long ago.
And it had been the perfect plot – a former Jedi scarred by the Order that betrayed him, having just lost his mate to Vader. Olin had wanted revenge; Sidious had felt it. He would’ve taken Vader’s place simply to take something from him. . . but Olin had vanished as well, the timing horribly inconvenient – because now he had no apprentice to show for as the media continued to gossip about a possible Imperial vulnerability without its famed enforcer.
But the truth was, Sidious had gotten along fine without Vader these last several months, causing him to recognize that the spoiled brat might be more trouble than he’s worth.
Vader had been defiant from the very first rotation, always questioning, always whining. Often needing punishment and correction, he was the most insufferable pupil he had ever taken on. Instruction was grueling.
Sidious had learned it was much more satisfactory to work with a legion of Inquisitors who would always do his bidding without protests. Like the high-ranking officers that reported directly to him, they were eager to please him – to serve him. . . They would never not kiss his arse, while Vader always seemed to take pleasure in ruffling his feathers.
But it was crucial that Vader make HoloNet headlines once again, even if only as a symbol. The one thing Vader had done right was solidify fear – and Sidious needed that fear to remain intact. The irony was, he hadn’t actually needed Vader to do this; there was an option for an easy fix – any of his minions could don the demonic suit to play the part and put the rumors of his absence to rest. But finding Vader had become a matter of principal.
And of course, once the Sith Lord had put forth the effort, finding him hadn’t taken hardly any time at all. . . Vader was nothing if not predictable.
Naboo.
How shocking.
When Sidious had heard of an event honoring the former queen, he suspected he might find Vader there.
Sidious hadn’t confirmed Vader’s unauthorized hiatus with anyone – not an admiral, not an inquisitor. And in order to avoid drawing attention to the fact that Vader had actually been missing, he’d sought out the services of one lone bounty hunter. . . a Force-sensitive bounty hunter from a long lineage of findsmen. . . a lineage that the one in question was ferociously protective of. . . a lineage and a legacy on the world of Gand, that would be destroyed should this hired help let the details of this top secret mission slip.
Sidious had faith in Zuckuss’ abilities. Not only could he render himself undetectable through the Force, and use it to seek out a specific signature, but he could identify an individual through the likes of their blood – without drawing a drop. Exclusive to the Gand species, this unsettling, but special added sense, along with his enormous, insect-like eyes to aid in spotting a long-range target, gave Zuckuss an unmatched reputation as a precision sniper. Like his ancestral stingflies, he knew just when to strike; he would slip in and out unnoticed.
And Sidious had just gotten word. . . Zuckuss had Vader in custody.
Sidious was waiting impatiently on the Star Destroyer he called home, suspended in space near project Stardust – the construction of a battle station that would someday give him the absolute power he coveted. He was debating whether he wanted to hear an explanation from his failure of an apprentice or if he’d rather get straight to discipline. Regardless, the repercussions for Vader’s actions were inevitable. Why waste time?
Still, Sidious’ curiosity was getting the better of him. Where had Vader been all these months? How had he gone unrecognized?
As Zuckuss steers an unconscious Vader on a hovercraft cot behind the closed door of his quarters, Sidious has his answer. . .
When he removes the sheet covering the capture, as anticipated, Sidious sees his insolent student is not in proper uniform. But while he’d expected there to be a replacement for the helmet he’d so proudly designed – it was why he’d needed a Gand and not just a facial recognition seeker droid – he hadn’t expected no helmet at all.
Sidious looks him over in disgust. Vader had taken on a form more closely resembling Skywalker. . . Interesting. . . Interesting and disturbing.
“I trust you had no issues?” Sidious questions his employee.
“None. He was unsuspecting. And all those Midichlorians made him a Wookiee in a room of Ewoks. I just had to wait for the right moment to stun. No one saw. I left the planet without being followed.”
“Remember. You tell no one of his former identity, or Gand is no more. I will personally squash each and every one of your kin like the bugs they are, saving you for last. And that handsome reward you are about to receive will be no good to you. . . You’ll be dead!”
“Yes, sir,” Zuckuss auto-replies without enthusiasm. “And where might I acquire that payment?”
Sidious scowls as he hits an alert on the arm of his throne. “My associate will pay you and see you out.” The finality in his voice prompts Zuckuss to exit.
Now, Sidious replaces the sheet over the face of the Jedi, and calls for a med droid to move him to his own quarters. He plans to have Vader’s current health status assessed, but doesn’t want him to awake unsuspectingly in a medbay; he wants him to wake with the immediate awareness that he has been taken back to the life and duty he abandoned.
Sidious studies his sleeping apprentice as the droid fits him with a Force-suppression collar. He can see that Vader has made improvements to his prosthetics as well. Synth-flesh covers his right hand, and the durasteel joints of his left more closely mimic those of human fingers. And when the droid performs a full body scan, it reveals artificial lungs.
Sidious is unsure of his feelings about all of this. Vader’s suit had been strategically crafted to house the appropriate amount of pain – pain that was supposed to propel him further into his decent of anger and hate.
But perhaps this reborn version could finally be the prodigy he’d first prophesized. He had been sorely disappointed when Vader had lost the fight to his former Master, leaving his body broken and nearly worthless. But at the time, he’d taken it as a grand opportunity to further chain him to his life as a Sith.
Sidious is growing more anxious for Vader to awake. . . to learn of his state of mind and physical capabilities, yes, but also to get him back into the public eye. . . wearing Vader’s mask and not Skywalker’s face.
*
After a few hours of ironing out the details, Obi-Wan, Ferus, and Sabé had boarded a ship to Coruscant, as Sabé had originally suggested.
And as usual, it is the middle of the night, and Obi-Wan and Ferus no longer know what it means to have proper rest.
Rather than sleeping on the flight, the trio conduct research on Palpatine, trying to look for patterns in his public schedule that could give them an inkling to where he might end up next. But although his name is often mentioned in reports, it is rare that he is present onsite, his associates typically appearing on his behalf. It seems business had carried on as normal without Vader, and Ferus knows Obi-Wan had been right. . . The only reason Palpatine had suddenly shown interest in Anakin again was because of the potential for the threat of rebel uprisings.
And while Ferus’ own rebel allies hadn’t considered themselves as being currently active in the fight, the news about Anakin had stirred them all.
Before they’d left Naboo, Ferus had reached out to Dona, giving her the update that they had found Anakin, only to lose him again – and to a much more sinister source. Dona was devastated at the recount, but amped to act. She’d elected to reach out to Wil and Amie personally, so the three of them could concoct a plan to more closely monitor the radio waves.
Ferus had then made contact with the Erased, letting them know he and Obi-Wan would be returning to Coruscant. The persistent group made a plan to get to the Imperial Sector of the planet to scout the incoming ships for the one that might be Palpatine’s.
Though there wouldn’t be much they could do, Ferus had also alerted Toma and Raina at the asteroid base as well. The more people that were aware of Anakin’s capture, the more likely someone was to get information and report back. . . which was why Obi-Wan and Ferus had agreed it would be best to also brief Clive and Astri.
They hadn’t wanted to worry the parents of two before, but the circumstances were different now. They’d suggested the adults keep the news secret from the younger generation to begin with, but Astri had put her son on the call for a moment to speak to his father, and it was a relief to Obi-Wan’s weary soul to have heard the voice of his precious child. Ferus had also talked with Trever a minute, unsure if the skeptical teen believed the lie that Anakin was asleep when he’d asked about him.
Finally, Ferus had messaged Ahsoka. . . who had apparently already heard the report from Luminara. . . who had heard it, not from Toma and Raina on base with her, but from their fellow Jedi, Solace, who had been away from Coruscant recently on her own solo quest. Solace had heard the emergency alert from Dex.
And with this complete networked loop, Ferus feels hope again. With everyone working together, they are bound to learn something that could lead them to Anakin.
For now, in-flight, the discussion revolves around the next steps to take if they don’t have any leads by the time they reach Coruscant.
Sabé makes an interesting proposal.
They are all in agreement that if they find Palpatine, one way or another, they will find Anakin. But rather than trying to locate Palpatine, Sabé wonders if it might be easier to try to get him to come to them – to Coruscant.
She points out that if someone of political stature could request a meeting with probable cause, then perhaps the Emperor would visit the Imperial city.
Obi-Wan likes the idea. Though he hasn’t a clue what this hypothetical meeting could be in regards to, he knows someone who has enough knowledge on the subject to spark attention from the higher-ups. It is someone who has already had no issue in sparking the attention of the Empire. . . albeit negative attention.
But while Bail Organa is someone who could potentially get access to Palpatine, Obi-Wan doesn’t want Leia anywhere near this. . . but he can’t exactly explain his reservations to Sabé.
Without confirmation, Obi-Wan is certain Sabé had known about Padmé’s pregnancy. But she wouldn’t know that the young mother had given birth. Would Sabé be suspecting if she were to see Leia?
Obi-Wan is more than ready to adopt an honesty policy, but with Sabé’s involvement in such a dangerous mission, she cannot yet know the truth. In the off chance that she found herself in enemy hands, her mind would be susceptible to be probed. Obi-Wan and Ferus knew how to resist such tricks, but Sabé would likely not be able to hide this information should Sidious get to her.
With the determination, pleading, and unspoken reassurance in Ferus’ brown eyes, Obi-Wan agrees to contact Bail when they touch down.
Obi-Wan’s next debacle will be informing Bail that Anakin is alive. Like Owen and Beru, Obi-Wan knows Bail and Breha may be defensive that Anakin would wish to take Leia from them. He’ll do his best to assure them that this isn’t a concern, but is it necessary to tell Bail about Vader? For Owen and Beru, the answer was no, but if they involve Bail in this mission, as they plan to, he might find out on his own.
Obi-Wan is tired of all the deceit. He is tired of having to keep tally of who knows what. All he wants right now is to curl up at home with his boys and forget his troubles for a while. He settles for resting in Ferus’ hold for the duration of their travels.
*
Anakin groans as he stirs. He feels as if he’s been bashed over the head. He shifts on this strange bed as he tries to recollect the most recent events. When had he fallen asleep?
“Fess,” he murmurs with a moan.
Anakin’s eyes feel fused shut, but with great effort, he gets them open. It is then he realizes the room he’s in isn’t any guest space in the lake house. He springs upright, then registers the collar around his throat, clawing at it with his synth-flesh hand and a gasp.
“Obi-Wan!” he yelps on reflex, though he hopes Obi-Wan isn’t here, because then he likely wears a collar around his neck as well. And though Anakin doesn’t often try to access the Force any longer, he knows its purpose is to block him from doing so.
Once again, Anakin tries to recall what had led up to this. He is still in his suit from Eirtama’s art show. . . He’d never left the art show. Obi-Wan and Ferus had been there, he’d seen them, hugged them, kissed them, and then. . . Then he’d walked away from them. . . and that was the last thing he remembers.
Anakin breathes in and out swiftly, trying to gain control of the only thing he can for the moment. He slows his latest exhale as he looks at his surroundings.
He’s in the center of a large room, certainly not a prison cell, but the atmosphere is just as unpleasant. Everything is dark – the dim lighting and the colors. . . the walls, the floor, the few pieces of furniture. And it’s cold, and there aren’t any windows, making him feel claustrophobic despite the sizeable space.
Anakin moves his legs over the edge of the white cot, the contrasting shade telling him this isn’t a permanent fixture. He plants his feet on the floor and registers the identifiable vibration; he’s on a ship, not one that is traveling, but one that is stationary in space.
Suddenly, the door slides open and a med droid enters.
Anakin stiffens.
The droid doesn’t speak to him, but Anakin hears a beeping that tells him the droid has made contact with someone.
“He is awake, your highness,” the droid alerts.
Anakin hears the return message boom out of the communication speaker, “Leave him there. Do not engage with him. I am coming, immediately.”
Anakin’s skin crawls. The voice sounds a bit strained and aged from what he remembers, but there is no doubt in his mind that it is Palpatine’s. He feels his face go pale. More than before, he desperately hopes Obi-Wan and Ferus aren’t here. He hopes Sabé isn’t here, or any of the Nabooians he’d been with.
Bile rises in his throat when the med droid departs, leaving him to wait for the door to open once more.
And it does, ‘immediately,’ as promised.
Anakin braces himself. What he sees petrifies him. This is not the man he remembers at all. Palpatine is cloaked in black with a ghostly pale, disfigured face. Anakin involuntarily curls in on himself.
“Welcome home, Lord Vader. I trust your little rebellious stunt served you well.”
Anakin gawks, speechless.
“You would do well to try and explain yourself. I am in no mood.”
Anakin doesn’t know how to respond. What does Palpatine know? It appears he isn’t aware that Anakin has no memory of Vader.
“Well?”
Anakin feels a shock emit from the collar around his neck, so powerful that it throws him back. He cries out as he tries to brace himself on the cot.
“You didn’t like that,” Sidious says eerily. “Well, it is obvious you don’t like pain – evidenced by what you have done to yourself.” He gestures to Vader’s transformed visage in detest.
Dumbfounded, Anakin doesn’t reply. Then, he feels the sharp pain of the shock infiltrate a second time.
“Explain yourself!” Sidious hisses.
Anakin’s eyes water, but he refuses to let himself cry – and he finds it’s easy to do, because he’s not upset, he’s angry. A familiar passion floods him; Anakin wants to demand to know where Obi-Wan and Ferus are. But if there’s a possibility that they aren’t here, or that Palpatine might not even know he’s been with them, he doesn’t want to expend any information. “How did you find me?” Anakin decides.
Sidious glares at him. The nerve of him to ask a question before his own is answered! But he halts from disbursing another shock – only to ridicule, “I could’ve found you the first day; I chose not to. I thought you had figured out by now that I had my new apprenticed lined up – he was to end your pathetic life and take your place, but as luck would have it, Olin turned out to be another disappointment – just like you!”
Anakin translates the meaning before giving a response; Sidious is taunting Vader, knowing Vader would be insulted that his Master didn’t see him fit as a Sith, but Anakin is actually relieved to hear this. “If I’m such a disappointment, then what do you want with me? Why do you want me back?”
Sidious laughs. “I don’t want you back, at least not in the way you were. . . but I am not certain what sits before me now. . .” He begins to pace in front of his protégé as he is the predator and Vader is the prey. “Tell me, why have you altered your form from what I made it to be?”
And there is the confirmation - his injuries. . . Sidious had been responsible. Anakin reins in his rage. “I wanted to be more powerful.” He assumes this would be the most appropriate reasoning for a Sith. “I was held back the way I was before. I knew I could be better.”
Sidious’ eyes narrow. “And why wouldn’t you come to me with these wishes? Why would you seek to make these changes without authorization? Suspicious.” He places a bony finger to his lip. “And how suspicious that I find you on Naboo. You are so predictable,” he spits. “You can’t let her go – you’re obsessed, just as you are obsessed with your old Master.”
Anakin’s heart skips a beat.
“Until you truly let Anakin Skywalker die, Vader cannot live. That is why you could not save your wife.”
In spite of his attempts to show no reaction, Anakin is sure his eyes have gone wide. He’d been trying to save Padmé? Not trying to hurt her??
“Why must you refuse the gifts I want to give to you? The knowledge I possess, I had only wanted to share it with you, but you continue to resist. Had you succumbed, you could’ve saved her. And instead of letting your grief breed anger, you let sadness cripple you – weakness. Why did you go to Naboo? To cry at the Senator’s grave?” Sidious sneers.
“No,” Anakin bellows in offense. How dare he disrespect Padmé! Anakin wants to defend the woman he knows he loved more than life itself, but he believes it best to continue to be what Sidious wants him to be for now, “I went to feed my pain,” Anakin grits out. He sees Sidious’ eyes flash in mild interest. “I went to that event, and I watched them all celebrating life. I watched them all live, when she had to die. And I hate them all for still having breath in their lungs when she can’t!” Anakin knows the ‘hate’ is essential in the makings of a Sith.
Sidious observes him quietly. “Fascinating take.” He continues pacing the length of Vader’s cot. “You don’t think I’ll just take your word for it, do you? You’ll need to prove your loyalty. You’ve been gone many months, Lord Vader, and the Empire has suffered because of it. While I am your first priority, this Empire is second, and you neglected your duty.”
“I wanted to have my surgery, and recover without interference,” Anakin argues.
“That was not your choice to make,” Sidious growls.
“I apologize. . . my Master.” The words are disdainful, but Anakin wants to vomit at having said them. . . They had been in vain anyway; another burning shock from the collar grips him, an agonizing surge jolting through his body.
Anakin can’t help it.
He screams.
He screams loudly, and he begs for it to stop.
Finally, it does. On the ground, Anakin is on his hands and knees panting.
“Weak,” Sidious accuses. “Weak apologies for a weak man. And why can’t you handle the pain you claim to crave?”
Anakin fights tears. He can’t possibly keep this up. He can’t pretend to be loyal to this despicable man, but what is the alternative? Then Palpatine tells him. . .
“You better find yourself, and quick, or I’ll put your down like a wounded dog.”
Sidious exits the room, and Anakin is both surprised and relieved.
He pulls himself up onto the cot and sprawls out on his back, holding his chest. He’s sure those shocks hadn't been good for his artificial lungs. . . Ferus would have a fit. . .
Anakin squeezes his eyes shut.
He wants Ferus.
He wants Obi-Wan.
He wants to go home.
Notes:
Enter Lord Sidious 😭😭😭 I hate it! But I must admit, I always have so much fun writing him 🤭But only his inner-monologue and dialogue, NOT when he’s hurting Anakin 😭😭😭
For those of you who don’t know, Zuckuss is one of the bounty hunters that appears on screen with Boba Fett and Bossk in the Empire Strikes Back. I had no prior knowledge of this character. BUT I needed a bounty hunter, and I needed one that would be believable to capture Anakin. . . and according to my research, Zuckuss does have Force-sensitivity! He also has the fly-like features described. . . but that bit about the blood, yeah, I totally made that up 😂 It really was the only way for an outside source to recognize Anakin/Vader 🤷🏻♀️ And it made sense that an insectoid species would be invested in blood – mostly if that insect is a mosquito lol, but hey, it works! The things we do for fic. Sigh.
Thank you so much for reading 💗
Chapter 34
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Bail Organa is stunned to have awoken to a call from Obi-Wan, and to learn that he is on-world and wanting to see him right away. While he is delighted that he will soon be in the company of his sorely missed friend, he can’t help but feel a little unsettled. . . Because Bail knows Obi-Wan would never leave Luke on Tatooine unless absolutely necessary. And the absolute last place he would travel is to Coruscant.
Nonetheless, Bail welcomes him, and his two companions, into his cityscape apartment shortly after their initial communication. He is surprised to see the queen’s decoy, but happy to be reacquainted. He is also pleased to meet another Jedi, who had apparently left the Order some time ago.
Also there to greet his guests: Bail’s wife, Breha – the Alderaanian queen, and their little princess, Leia. During the stretches where he was needed at the Senate for extended periods, Bail’s family would join him on Coruscant; now was one of those times.
In a string of misfortune, Obi-Wan feels his luck is turning around at the rare opportunity to see Luke’s twin sister. He does his best to interact with the one-and-a-half-year-old without showing the intense amount of emotion and love he feels for Anakin’s biological child. Obi-Wan hadn’t seen Leia since she was first born. He’d held her then, taken her to her adoptive father, but without a doubt, she had taken a piece of his heart with her.
And Obi-Wan knows, the same can now be said for Ferus. . . who is not as adept in hiding the captivation he feels over Anakin’s offspring.
It would seem that Ferus’ ears have stopped functioning properly; people around him are talking, sometimes talking to him, but all he can hear is the thud of his doting heart as he watches Leia in awe. From Breha’s hold, the babe’s sleepy, brown eyes warily, but curiously meet his own. And while those eyes are clearly her mother’s, Ferus see her father’s nose and mouth.
Leia stares at Ferus as she lowers her heavy head to her mother’s shoulder, and Ferus is powerless to do anything but stare back. Lured in like a magnet, he has to catch himself from stepping towards her.
Ferus had adored Luke when they’d been introduced, naturally, but their meeting hadn’t felt quite like this. He hadn’t felt this consuming bout of extreme devotion – a silent vow of ultimate protection from harm. . . similar to what he feels for Anakin – feelings that Ferus had been trying to withhold when he’d first encountered Luke. . .
“Ferus?” Obi-Wan places a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Ferus’ eyes remain fixed on Leia, but the sounds around him that were previously muffled are now coming in clear. “Hmm?” he hums absent-mindedly.
Obi-Wan subtly rubs Ferus’ neck. “Breha asked if you’d like some breakfast.” His tone and smile are both soft.
“Or some caf?” Breha questions, tilting her head towards her daughter’s in an attempt to catch Ferus’ gaze.
Ferus forces himself to blink, then turns his attention to his host. “I’m sorry.” He shakes himself out of the daze Leia has put him in. “Yes. Apologies; it’s been a long journey. I’ll. . . Let me assist you,” Ferus offers, now taking that step closer, but to follow Breha wherever she may lead.
It works in Obi-Wan’s favor when Sabé trails behind them, giving him the opportunity to explain things to Bail in private – that the queen’s former handmaiden does not know of Leia’s birth parents, but that Ferus does. . . and that one of those birth parents is alive and in grave danger. . . And Obi-Wan needs his help.
In the kitchen, Breha still totes Leia on her hip as she rummages through drawers and cabinets. After a life in service, Sabé easily acclimates and is already prepping the stove for the ingredients the queen has gathered.
Not nearly as equipped, Ferus awkwardly stands aside, feeling a little silly for offering help that he doesn’t know how to apply, but then Breha makes a suggestion. . .
“Would you mind holding her while I get the caf started?” Breha is already passing her daughter to the dumbfounded Jedi who had shown a sweet infatuation with her. “She likes to be held in the mornings; she is very vocal in her protest if she’s unable to see what’s happening up here on the counter.” Breha chuckles.
Ferus doesn’t have any experience in handling toddlers, but his arms open on reflex. Warmth floods him when Leia is properly clutched to his chest.
But the feeling does not appear to be mutual. . .
Leia pouts.
And Ferus laughs.
The frown. The furrowed brow. . . Ferus has seen this identical expression many, many times before – as of late, yes, but more so when he and Anakin were on the outs in their youth, because Leia’s look of dissatisfaction has just morphed to clear agitation – and offense. Ferus snuffs his misinterpreted laughter; he apparently has a knack for getting under Skywalker skin.
“I’m sorry, baby girl,” Ferus coos. “I was only laughing because you’re so adorable.”
Eyes still like daggers, Leia glares at him.
But Ferus strokes her soft, dark hair tenderly, and can’t resist pressing his lips to the tiny balled fist just under his chin. “Don’t be mad at me, princess, please,” Ferus whispers the polite request.
Leia’s mouth stays slightly puckered, but her forehead relaxes.
“There she is.” Ferus begins to rock her to-and-fro.
Leia gives him one last definitive scowl and babbles scolding sounds. Ferus has to hold his breath to keep from laughing again. Now, an impossibly small, chastising finger points in his face, then calmly settles beneath his nose. Ferus sucks in his lips and playfully pretends to nibble on the finger.
And the giggle that bursts from the precious girl – the brilliant smile she shows him, provides temporary relief from the pain of the separation from her father.
*
The trio of harsh electric shocks had left Anakin immobilized for the last. . . well, he isn’t sure how much time he’d spent recuperating since Sidious’ cowardly physical attack.
When Anakin had first awoken in this dreadful place, he hadn’t known if he’d been sleeping for hours or for rotations. And even if he had a window, the view of the endless stars of space still wouldn’t tell him if it were night or day now.
But time isn’t the only concept to which Anakin is uncertain. He doesn’t know what to expect from here on out in any regard. The main questions on the forefront: Is Sidious coming back anytime soon? Is he keeping tabs on him from some other area of the ship? If he tries to rise from this cot, will he be shocked again?
From flat on his back, Anakin scans the space for recording devices, but there aren’t any that he can see, though that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. With difficultly, he slowly elevates upright. He gazes at the exit longingly, but knows there is no use in trying to go through that door; even if it isn’t bolted from the other side, and even if he isn’t being monitored from inside the room, he is sure there is at least one guard out there that would sound the alarm if he tried to escape.
There is another door on the opposite end of the room, but Anakin assumes it is a storage closet, or maybe even a refresher – not a way out. Ventilation shafts are always an option; they had been a means for search and rescue on Bakura, but Anakin hadn’t done well with navigating them on his own without Obi-Wan.
Anakin’s sense of urgency to get out of the room is lacking anyway. . . because in all of his uncertainty, there is one thing he feels sure of. . . He’s alone here.
In the quiet on his cot, unable to do anything else but think, Anakin has been over his conversation with Sidious enough times to realize. . . Obi-Wan and Ferus aren’t here as he’d first feared.
The details of how Sidious had captured him weren’t clear, but in the way that the Sith had spoken of his lovers in the past tense, and in the way he’d spoken of Vader in the present, Anakin feels confident Sidious has no knowledge of him having been in their care for the last several months. And Anakin wants to keep it that way. So, in order to prevent Obi-Wan and Ferus from catching up to him in his dangerous plight, Anakin needs to devise a plan to get himself back home on his own.
Though he is trapped in this domain for now, perhaps there is something in the confines of these walls that will at least tell him where he is or what Sidious has planned, and then he can map out an eventual escape.
As he had before, Anakin plants his feet on the vibrating deck below. He looks over at the only occupied area in the open and empty room – a desk sits upon a large, hexagon-shaped platform that rises up from the floor. The desk does not appear to be a work station, but something more of a communication center. Anakin doesn’t suspect there are any comm devices connected to it, but decides to investigate regardless.
He rises on unsteady legs, and takes distrustful strides along the dark red carpet, hand positioned just below the collar around his neck tensely. He tries to look relaxed, as if he isn’t doing anything that would render punishment, should anyone be monitoring.
Anakin puts a foot on the single step-up, and braces himself for pain, but none comes. Now, he moves atop the pedestal to discover what equipment or information might be found at the desk.
As expected, he can see there is wiring for holo-conferencing, but the technology has been removed. He rolls the leather, high-back chair out from under the desk, disappointed to determine there aren’t any drawers or storage of any kind. Whoever worked here likely kept electronic files that were confiscated along with the communications.
And then it suddenly dawns on Anakin. . . He doesn’t know why he hadn’t pieced it together before. . . The person who once sat here was likely him.
From the platform, Anakin peers around the room with new eyes. From what he knows of spacecrafts, a room of this size would surely be reserved for a leader or high-ranking officer. . . Sidious wouldn’t have left him in his office, but the red carpet, black walls and furniture, and nearly nonexistent lights all scream Sith. . . And Anakin knows there are only two. . . This had been Vader’s quarters.
He wonders briefly what he’d done in this large spread when it was absent of the cot. Training? Or something far more nefarious. . .
Anakin would rather not picture it. He redirects his attention to the sealed door that he’d earlier deemed a water closet or an actual closet. He casually moves towards it, but just before he hits the prompt for it to open, he feels a strong sense of awareness – not from the Force, of course, but just a gut feeling of foreboding for what lies on the other side of the wall.
He takes in a breath, and audaciously hits the control.
When the dual sliding doors divide, Anakin is taken aback to first see an enormous object that almost completely occupies the space. Neck arced back and mouth hanging open, he tries to decipher what he is looking at – an egg-shaped pod erect from floor to ceiling. A white glow protrudes from what appears to be the seam of the pod, though the rest of the room is inhabited in darkness.
Anakin walks the circumference of the mysterious fortress, meaning to evaluate its purpose. A red lever invites him to activate it. . . He does.
The dome splits in half, a geometric pattern separating the top from the bottom. A hazy fog spews out, but the bright light gives Anakin a view of what’s inside.
A giant-sized mechanical arm suspends from overhead, its menacing claw hanging above a seat in the center of the unit. The seat is surrounded by a circular command station, complete with a large view screen that seems to float in midair. But the devices for transmissions have been disconnected and removed just as they had been at the desk.
Anakin feels chills, and inadvertently steps down and out of the pod, not having realized he’d been lured into it in the first place. The eerie feeling in his bones, and the whooshing blasts of air, tell him this had been a breathing chamber. . . for him. . . for Vader. The pod had provided an adequate way for him to breathe off of a respirator prior to his surgery.
He turns away, not wanting to envision himself as Vader sitting inside, hideously scarred, fighting for his breaths in torturous pain. He feels winded at the thought.
The light from the open pod has illuminated the perimeter of the room. Anakin believes this was once used as sleeping quarters, the chamber having replaced the space for a traditional bed. . . There is no rest for the wicked. . . And now Anakin can guess why’d he’d slept so much after Ferus had found him; he’d been deprived for some time.
Anakin observes another closed door directly across from the one he’d previously entered. Eager to get away from the harsh reality of the functionality of this gadget, he urgently advances through.
This third shadowy room is the refresher – or once was, as evidenced by the faucet that is still intact. But the area that would normally be occupied by a tub or a shower stall is taken up by a full-size bacta tank, much larger than the portable tube he’d been using on Ferus’ compact ship.
Anakin observes the backlit tank and wonders how he’d gotten in and out of it himself before spotting a massive durasteel crane, capable to sustain the weight of a mature humanoid.
Anakin feels disturbed; it’s hard to imagine having spent time here. Here is the irrefutable proof of the lonely life of Vader – a living space turned Sith office, a bedroom turned breathing chamber, and a refresher turned healing ward. Everything in this aircraft studio served as a means to survive, but not to live.
The blank walls and lack of fixtures and possessions are a testament to Vader’s emptiness. Anakin had always liked his room at home and at the Temple to be adorned with posters and trinkets that reminded him of the places and people he loved. He always had materials on hand to occupy his time and fuel enjoyment. But Vader had been a hollow, heartless vessel.
Completely isolated and alone.
He had been void of passion and of love. . . Ferus hadn’t been there to take care of him, and Obi-Wan hadn’t been there to soothe him to sleep. . .
Anakin tries not to panic at the thought of his painful, not-so-distant past. He focuses on the next door. . . though at this point, he wonders if he should go back through the doors he came from.
But this door is different than the rest. . . and Anakin finds himself drawn to it.
It’s significantly smaller, narrow, and at a height only slightly above his own, rather than the full run of the wall. It’s also hinged – a centuries old design that swings, complete with an ancient style lock that would require fierce strength to break through without the use of a key. But there is no need for a key. Despite this door being an antique, the most modern technology to date is mounted to the right of the frame – a retinal scan.
Anakin notes that he has to rise on his toes to activate it, but it works, his eyes being one of the only parts of his body having remained unchanged through all his metamorphoses.
When the locks nosily decompress, Anakin manually opens the door and finds himself in a closet like he’s never seen.
It’s well organized – structured like any other wardrobe, with shelving and racks. . . but what they hold is what’s unusual. . . and unnerving. . .
Lined up on the nearest shelf, is a collection of identical shiny, black helmets. They are rounded atop, flaring out to a cone shape in the back. The front is left open to showcase a full-face mask, which extends all the way to the neck for complete coverage of the wearer’s head.
The masks are the same glossy black as the helmets, both seemingly constructed of a similar, unforgiving alloy material. Deep red lenses cover viewports that resemble eyes, and there is a triangular grid that forms a mechanical nose and mouth.
The hairs on the back on Anakin’s neck stand on end; he swears he hears an echo of ghostly breathing emitting from one of the droid-like faces. . . because Anakin knows this was once what he wore in order to keep breathing – to keep alive. This mask had been his respirator.
Anakin inhales laboriously as he continues to inventory the additional stocked shelves. Everything is black, and every quantity seems to coincide with the number of helmets. There is coordinating shoulder armor – solid, thick plates that would restrict, but protect the entire upper chest. Utility belts hang on hooks in the neighboring area, all with switches and buttons that seem to support a greater purpose than just a mount for tools and a means to hold clothes in place.
The aforementioned clothes don’t really seem like they can be classified as clothes at all. Parts and pieces of cloth of different textures and styles, that fit over various parts of the body, fill proportional cubbies and drape from appropriately arranged pegs. There are ribbed gloves and floor-length tabards and capes. There is an oddly designed covering for the arms and torso made of heavy-weight fabric with a quilted look of vertical lines. That same weave textile is also used for high-waisted trousers with peculiarly placed snaps that seemingly attach right to the utility belts. Pairs of boots line the floor – huge boots – an essential element in the makeup of the intimidating ensemble.
But there is one other crucial component.
The powerhouse of the outfit is clearly more for function than for style – electronic cubes blinking with lights of red and green are wired and plugged into power cells behind the shelving. They are backed with rods that Anakin knows once penetrated the ports that had been removed from his chest.
Now, Anakin cringes upon seeing the artificial limbs resting in velvet-lined trays. These prosthetics aren’t anything like the ones he wears now. They look incomplete, open and suspectable to damage; they aren’t meant to be worn uncovered, evidenced by the sharp, fin-like peaks where the calf would meet the back of the knee. The overall assembly makes his stomach churn; these limbs wouldn’t effortlessly affix the way his current prosthetics do. . . These are designed to bore into the remaining flesh.
A wave of nausea threatens to knock Anakin off his feet. He recalls the pain he’d felt when he’d first awoken after having lost his memory. That pain would’ve been constant beneath the deceptively indomitable suit, with his insufficient, harrowing mechno limbs, and festering untreated wounds, indiligently covered up without proper care. How could he have possibly managed such brutality?
But just when Anakin is feeling faint, he sees something that unexpectedly comforts him.
Beyond the garments and. . . hardware. . . in the very back of the wardrobe, there is a symbol etched on the wall – a Jedi crest! Anakin’s heart pounds as he draws in cleansing breaths. Does this mean there had still been a part of Vader bound to the light?
Anakin reaches to touch the beloved crest. His mechanical fingers can register the fine outline of the symbol, which he traces until he comes to a notch. He presses it down with his thumb, and the wall suddenly shifts and slides back, leaving a slender, parallel opening.
Anakin doesn’t breathe as he turns himself sideways to slide through.
This extension of the closet is a prison-sized box, but it is filled with more. . . stuff than all of the places he’s lived combined. Anakin is aghast as he takes in the sight – the space is covered with images of Obi-Wan. They are the wanted posters he’d seen on the HoloNet, depicting him as a dangerous war criminal.
Graffiti populates the prints, leaving Obi-Wan’s face soiled in old fashioned ink.
“I hate you!”
“Traitor!”
“Liar!”
These are just some of the negative adjectives and phrases plastered everywhere. Every inch of the walls in front of him are slathered in malicious slander.
Anakin can no longer fight the tears. What could possibly have happened to make him feel this way about Obi-Wan?
Claustrophobic is an understatement for the way Anakin feels in this room. He urgently pivots on his heel to exit, but then discovers there is more to this Sith shrine of hate.
The door that had slid back contains more of Vader’s handiwork on the inner side. But this time, the person on the other end of his detest is himself.
He’s Anakin, not Vader, and he looks the way he’d seen himself in the holo reports in the archives just recently – unharmed and healthy.
More angry scribbles are strown about in a messy version of his own handwriting.
“Failure!”
“Weak!”
“Fool!”
Oddly, these aren’t characteristics Anakin would’ve assigned himself in the days he could remember. He’d been a fairly confident Padawan in his abilities and studies. . . but there were underlying insecurities, in other aspects. . . those that Anakin had never had the nerve to voice. . . thoughts he’d often push away from his subconscious because the notion too painful. But here, Vader had spelled out his greatest fears – that he was,
“Unlovable”
“Unworthy”
And that. . .
“They never loved you at all!”
And now Anakin knows that Vader hadn’t been some mindless, evil droid. He’d carried over Anakin’s sense of doubt, and faltering self-worth. . . worsened by what he had done:
“You lost EVERYTHING!”
“You FAILED!”
“You killed them!”
“Anakin Skywalker is dead!!”
But he hadn’t been.
And more than Vader had hated Obi-Wan, Anakin hates himself. Because now he knows, he and Vader hadn’t really been two different people as Ferus had claimed. He’d done every awful dark deed with the same heart – an apparently scorned and broken heart.
But Anakin still doesn’t understand what would’ve driven him to despise his Master so much. . .
Then, he unexpectedly stumbles upon the answer. . .
Next to the secret opening, a small holoprojector sits idle on its own little, low corner shelf; Anakin had missed it upon entering the room.
In the depths of his soul, Anakin is confident this will be a recording he does NOT want to see, but he also believes it vital that he does see. This device is about to reveal something he’d been desperate to know all along. He can feel it.
Anakin kneels and activates the projection.
The images are blurry. They are clearly security recordings, based on the overhead views. Anakin squints and dips his head to better see.
There are fiery plumes and a river of lava. Anakin can see silhouettes of people. . . He can easily identify their lightsabers. There are two individuals fighting – battling. . . and the competition is not friendly. It is obvious by the body language, and the aggressiveness behind each slash.
Anakin has a strong inkling of who these people are, but as they move nearer to whatever facility that connects these cameras, it is confirmed.
It’s Obi-Wan.
And it’s him.
But really him – and not Vader. There’s no suit. There’s no helmet. It’s just Anakin. Anakin Skywalker in his Jedi robes, swinging a blade whose color matches his Master’s. Anakin is attacking him. Anakin is trying to defeat Obi-Wan.
The figures disappear momentarily, and the camera angle then changes. He now has a view from inside of the building, the fight carrying into a meeting room with grand holoscreens and maintenance controls.
He and Obi-Wan fight around Neimoidian bodies that litter the floor. Anakin swallows the bile rising up in his throat; he knows he’d killed them. Obi-Wan surely hadn’t, and there was no one else around.
The cameras capture them close-up now, and Anakin observes himself fighting at a much more advanced level than he can ever recall. . . advanced, but improper. Obi-Wan had never taught him to fight this way; he sees the anger on his own face, and the desperation on his Master’s, as he blocks blow after blow of Anakin’s fervor-filled, erroneous attacks.
The lightsabers blur in a windmill effect, and two opposing hands shoot up in resistance against one another. Then, both men are thrown back by Force.
Anakin sees himself hit a control station – hard, then leap back to his feet as an alert flashes on the screen above.
The two move outside into the elements again, and the playback pans to the exterior of the building once more, now at a different angle from before. Anakin can only see the battle from a distance; he watches in disbelief at just how long it carries on.
Moments are lost as they embark past the range of the holorecording equipment, but the opponents always seem to return to view as the cameras continually switch.
The duelists ascend on a bridge over the lava, then descend as it collapses, leaving them to find refuge on debris in the flaming sea.
In the end, Anakin sees Obi-Wan leap from his plank, and the viewpoint switches one last time to show his Master standing on a bank. Anakin cannot see what’s below that bank. . .
A brief flash of his saber comes up over Obi-Wan. . . and then he sees Obi-Wan lower his weapon. . .
What had just happened? Confused and frantic, Anakin rolls back the last few seconds of the footage at a slower speed. . .
And gasps shakily, tears burning his eyes as he realizes. . . Obi-Wan had been the one to sever his limbs.
Now his Master stands there, rear to the camera, but Anakin can see he’s looking down. . . at him.
Anakin is grateful for the bank that is blocking the scene below, because he knows his Master is watching him burn.
Obi-Wan watches.
And then he walks away.
Obi-Wan walks away and leaves him there.
The holoprojection automatically retracts.
And Anakin is left with this incomprehensible knowledge – he is left with the truth.
Obi-Wan, not Sidious, had been responsible for his injuries.
And Vader had pieced together this home movie as a reminder of what his Master had done to him – to fuel his rage – to feed his hate.
Emotionally expended and hunched over on all fours, Anakin looks back at the collage on the wall behind him.
He collapses face first into the floor.
*
It is Obi-Wan and Ferus’ second night on Coruscant. Together, they had spent two full days in a constant state of turmoil.
Upon making the proposal for Bail to request an audience with Palpatine, they had learned that the Emperor himself had plans to come to the core world in a few rotations time. . . and was unlikely to come any sooner for a lowly Senator.
It had been a difficult decision to remain in place, but there hadn’t been any other leads that could potentially guide them to Sidious or Anakin. And while both heart-broken men had wanted to keep moving, they knew it would be a waste of resources and energy to do so. Sidious was going to come to them, as they had hoped, but just later than planned.
The bulk of the waiting is now out of the way, and Palpatine will be at the Senate Rotunda tomorrow, no later than eleven hundred.
While there is no guarantee Anakin will accompany him, Obi-Wan and Ferus maintain that the Sith Lord is for sure the gateway.
Anakin – or Vader rather, has yet to surface in the news. And if he does not appear with Sidious in the Senate, then Obi-Wan, Ferus, and Sabé plan to sneak aboard whatever craft Palpatine arrives on, while the political meeting is in session.
They intend to covertly travel wherever the cruiser may take them, in the chance that it might lead to Anakin, or at least provide clues on where they might be able to find him. Best-case scenario: they find Anakin aboard Sidious’ ship and can rescue him on site.
Not knowing Anakin’s current state is unsettling. Is he a prisoner? Is he serving as an Imperial in disguise? Sidious would’ve undoubtedly been suspicious of Anakin’s changed appearance and medical condition, so the former is assumed. And Obi-Wan and Ferus are devasted for what horrors Anakin might have been subjected to in time passed.
Bail and Breha have been hospitable, and Leia is a light in the shadows of doubt and fear, but the days are filled with anxiety, and the nights are bursting with trepidation and tears.
Obi-Wan and Ferus lie awake in the middle of the night in a cozy guest bed in one of the spare rooms of Bail’s luxurious apartment.
“I keep thinking we’ll get a magical call like we did before,” Ferus mumbles sadly, cheek resting against Obi-Wan’s bare chest.
“Different circumstances.” Obi-Wan tries not to sound too grave.
“The worst circumstances possible.”
Obi-Wan sighs. “Yes. . .” He picks up the holopad that he’d only just set down minutes prior, but there still isn’t any breaking news - there never is.
Uncharacteristically of the couple, the silence in uncomfortable.
Ferus holds clandestine fears of what Sidious’ discovery of Anakin’s change of allegiance might’ve led to. Obi-Wan has repeatedly assured that Anakin is alive, and Ferus doesn’t dare speak his doubts aloud, but finds his faith in Obi-Wan’s mystical connection to Anakin wavering.
For Obi-Wan’s part, he struggles with guilt. He is desperate to bring Anakin home safely, but is bothered by a specific, selfish worry that keeps infiltrating his mind – that Anakin would’ve found out about Mustafar. It’s a small-scale problem in comparison to everything else Anakin is facing, and Obi-Wan is ashamed that it keeps circling his thoughts.
Obi-Wan reaches for the holopad again, once more unenergetically tapping for the news, but this time, there is a report.
He shoots forward, Ferus mimicking the gesture.
“What?!” Ferus grips his arm and leans over his lap to see the display screen. “Oh my god.”
The headline and holographic evidence are there, ‘Vader Resurfaces,’ but Obi-Wan’s frozen fingers don’t scroll further.
Ferus registers that Obi-Wan seems to be in a state of shock; his body has completely tensed and locked up, save for his rapid breathing. Ferus gently pries the holo device from Obi-Wan’s hand.
Ferus can’t recall a holopic of Vader ever appearing in the media. He still remembers the horror of seeing him in person for the first time. . . Sidious had wanted to evoke that element of surprise terror. But in this case, there was no better way to put rumors to rest than a visual.
Ferus scans the report. It is vague, but tells of a sighting of Vader on Avedot. It does not state when he’d arrived there or if he was still present, but only that he’d gone to the world to ensure justice and peace. But the galaxy as a whole would know very well what that means. And Sidious knows they know.
He studies the figure in the photo, and Ferus is sickeningly certain that it is Anakin – the height, the shoulder width in proportion to the waist and hips. . . the stance, with one arm slung out to the side and knees slightly bowed.
Ferus first relishes in the fact that Anakin is alive, but is pained that he is back behind the mask. The suit looks only somewhat modified, absent of the respirator on the chest.
Next to him, Obi-Wan’s breathing intensifies, and he has not moved; his head is still positioned towards the holopad that is no longer held over his lap, his objectless hand elevated just as high as it had been when it had clutched the device.
“Hey,” Ferus moves into his field of vision. “Hey, look at me.”
But Obi-Wan doesn’t, and Ferus can see his panic is heightening as his shoulders pulse up and down.
Ferus sets the holopad aside and takes the empty hand. “Obi-Wan, please. Please look at me.” He crawls over Obi-Wan’s trembling legs and holds his face. “I know,” Ferus promises sensitively as the blue eyes finally meet his own. “I know; it’s awful to see him this way, but we can get to him now – we finally have a lead.”
“No,” Obi-Wan pants. “He won’t be there,” he wheezes high-pitched and distressed.
“If he’s not there, we’ll find out where he’s going.”
Obi-Wan finally breaks out of his stunned pose to shake his head out of Ferus’ hold. “It doesn’t matter where he’s going, he’s gone,” he bawls.
Ferus tries to frame his face again. “This doesn’t mean what you think it means,” he protests carefully. “He’s not gone; he’s still Anakin.”
Obi-Wan jerks his head in the negative a second time. “He took him from me again,” he whimpers. “Poisoned him,” he cries in anguish. “He poisoned him against us.”
“We don’t know that,” Ferus soothes, as he clutches Obi-Wan’s shaking hands.
“He knows,” Obi-Wan blubbers. “He knows what I did, and look what it drove him to.”
“Not necessarily,” Ferus defends again.
“He knows; I know he knows,” Obi-Wan weeps in frustration.
“That wouldn’t have changed anything,” Ferus reassures.
“You know what that man is capable of!” Obi-Wan suddenly shouts. “You were almost a victim of it yourself!”
Ferus can’t debate it, but he refuses to believe Anakin would succumb to the darkness a second time. . . but logically. . . “We’ll get him back, and we’ll work through whatever he’s up against. It’ll be different this time.”
“I ruined him,” Obi-Wan sobs.
Ferus pulls him in his arms unwillingly. “You didn’t,” he reinforces as he puts their cheeks together. “He’s alive, and he’s still Anakin, and I’m going to bring him home to you to prove it.”
Obi-Wan continues with his nonverbal argument and broken cries.
“I brought him back to you once; I’ll do it again,” Ferus does his best to placate, but is soon interrupted by the sound of his comm device chiming from the bedside table. He keeps hold of Obi-Wan but extends his opposite arm to retrieve it. “It’s Wil,” he tells Obi-Wan as he accepts the transmission.
“Have you seen the reports?” Wil begins without prompt.
Ferus is cautious; Wil doesn’t know that Anakin had been Vader. He has to act unaffected – bothered even. “I have.”
“I’ve got news about the news – from an inside source. I was just about to contact you before the headlines broke.”
“What do you have?” Ferus inquires skeptically as he soothingly rubs Obi-Wan’s neck and shoulders.
“Nothing on Akkani, unfortunately, but somehow I feel any unusual Imperial activity is worth noting.”
“Agreed. . .” Ferus waits.
“Well, while the reports don’t reveal much, I can tell you a small band has formed on the world mentioned in the latest article – a rebellious band much like ours at home. I have a contact who knows one of the members. The Imperials stormed them early this morning, just like they first did with us. Everything is on lockdown. Military has eyes everywhere.”
“Is. . . the headliner still there?” Ferus tries to sound nonchalant.
“That I don’t know, and there’s a reason why – my source says he was the first one there, with a whole fleet of troops. Our allies were all caught off guard and outnumbered. Many arrests were made, and one of the lieutenants had given the order for immediate execution. But just before the entire group was slaughtered, the head man himself calls for a cease-fire and has his men in white stand down.”
“Vader?!” Ferus shrieks without meaning to.
“Yes!” Wil replies hyped. “He marches them all away, and everyone assumes it’s because he wants to be the one to off the prisoners himself, and then. . .”
“And then??”
“And then he lets them all go.”
Ferus takes hold of Obi-Wan’s dropped jaw and grins, then presses a quick kiss to his temple.
“You there? Did I lose you?” Wil checks.
“No, I’m here! Thank you. That is unusual, and could turn out to be helpful,” Ferus pretends.
“I hope so. We’re going to really amp up our surveillance now; I don’t know if he is there, but I know the squads are actively trying to regain control. They aren’t able detain the residents as easily now that they’re prepared for attack; many have gone into hiding. If anything new comes up, I’ll let you know.”
“I really appreciate you looking out.”
“Absolutely. We’ll find Akkani, my friend,” Wil avows. “I’ll be in touch.”
Ferus disconnects the line and wraps Obi-Wan tightly in his embrace with a satisfied grunt. “He’s still our Anakin – still our hero.”
Obi-Wan nods sniffling. “I’m sorry,” he pushes out weakly.
Ferus brushes strands from his eyes. “Oh, baby, it’s all right,” he lulls. “I understand the moments of doubt. Look how many breakdowns I’ve had in the last several rotations – in the last several hours alone. . . And you catch me every time I fall.” He presses his lips to Obi-Wan’s forehead.
Obi-Wan voluntarily moves into Ferus’ space this time, and rests his head on his pecs. “He’s. . . He’s in that suit,” he laments. “He must be so. . . He’s so brave,” he corrects himself ahead of the words.
“He is. And so brilliant; he must’ve been able to fool Sidious. Although, if word is spreading of his lapse in Imperial judgement, then the ruse is likely up. But Sidious was probably suspicious from the start – to have found Anakin on Naboo, the physical changes he’s made; I don’t believe he returned to business as normal, otherwise Anakin would’ve been given access to communications and would’ve reached out to us.”
Obi-Wan nods, and both men vacate the bed – the time to sit idle has finally passed.
Ferus reaches for his travel bag. “We stick to the original plan; Palpatine comes to Coruscant tomorrow – you and Sabé stowaway on his ship. I’m going to Avedot just in case he’s still there.”
Obi-Wan lets out a woeful exhale. He definitely doesn’t like the idea of splitting up, but they can’t leave any stone unturned.
Ferus is already dressed and packed. “I’ll alert you as soon as I can. I’m sure Sabé’s asleep by now; you can brief her in the morning. I guess just tell her we were given a lead on someone who fit Anakin’s description. And tell her some other planet; I’m sure she’ll have seen Avedot in the news.”
Obi-Wan wordlessly nods again, and Ferus moves to hug him.
“Feeling a little better?” Ferus hates to leave Obi-Wan when he’d been so distraught moments before.
“I am. I’m just still so worried,” Obi-Wan blows out. “But it feels good to finally take action.” He motions to the dresser across the way. “Take one of the beacons Bail gave us for tomorrow; they’ll really come in handy now.” Obi-Wan is already worried for Anakin, and now Ferus will be trying to gain clearance on a world with an Imperial blockade in place.
Ferus slaps the beacon on his wrist.
Obi-Wan takes his hands. “Be careful. And if you find him, take him straight home – take him straight home and both of you stay there.”
“Then what’s the point of the beacon??” Ferus scrunches his mouth in disapproval.
“So, I can know where you are.”
Ferus laughs ironically. “Don’t think for a second that I’d leave you and Sabé stranded on that ship if it got to that point.”
“Anakin is the priority. And once you have him in your sights, don’t let him out – and don’t bring him anywhere near Sidious. Now. Would you like me to wake Sabé and ask her opinion on the subject?”
Ferus relaxes at the joke, because he knows Obi-Wan is okay now. He chuckles as he raises both hands in surrender. “We go straight home,” he recites obediently. “Never thought I’d meet someone more stubborn that the both of us combined.”
Obi-Wan chortles as they share a quick kiss.
Ferus sighs and smiles. “He’s alive. I know you felt certain he was, but to have the confirmation. . . I needed that.”
“I understand. I just need to talk to him. His heroic efforts tell us he’s still his clever, daring self, but I need to make sure he’s truly all right. I can’t imagine how traumatic it must’ve been for him to put on that mask.”
Ferus frowns. “We’ll have him back soon, and we’ll get him through it.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” It’s hard to say goodbye. . . and not just to Obi-Wan. . . “Give my baby girl a kiss for me,” Ferus requests.
Obi-Wan’s grin is genuine. “And give her daddy a kiss for me.”
Notes:
SPOILERS! Don’t read this little paragraph if you don’t want to know spoilery Ferus Legends lore!
But if you do, let’s talk about how at the end of the The Last of the Jedi series, Obi-Wan sends Ferus to Alderaan to look after Leia in the same way that he looks after Luke on Tatooine. And we learn that is exactly what Ferus does in another set of books called Rebel Force by Alex Wheeler. Now, Ferus is not at all a main character in these stories, but he is an important one. Leia is the adult we know from the original films here, and she has already been reunited with Luke by this point, but most relevant to this chapter. . . Leia. HATES. Ferus. 🤭 She definitely shared her biological father’s distaste. Ferus – or Fess Ilee (yes, that is where I got the nickname from) – is an annoying shadow that Leia can’t seem to escape. . . which feels very reminiscent to Padawan Anakin’s annoyance in being scrutinized by him. But even though Leia wants nothing to do with this weird old guy who is always around, at first, our sweet Ferus loves and adores that little “princess” from the start. SO, I was just very excited for them to meet in this story, and I had long decided they would have an immediate bond.
This chapter kicked my ass. It was one that required some heavy re-writes 😮💨 I hope you like it. . . despite how rough it gets 😭💔
Thank you so much for your continued support 🫂🫂🫂
Chapter 35
Notes:
⚠️🚨CONTENT WARNINGS🚨⚠️
This chapter gets very dark, guys. I know some people will proceed without worry, but others might prefer to know what the content warnings are. I am going to list those warnings in the notes section at the END of this chapter. That way, if you prefer to read without spoilers, you may (at your own risk). If you have trigger concerns about certain difficult topics, please click the 'more notes' link before starting your read.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sidious hadn’t even flinched when he’d received word from the Grand Admiral stationed on Avedot; he had sent his apprentice there under strict supervision with the expectation of such a treasonous act. It had been a test, and his disgraceful pupil had failed – Vader had saved an entire mutinous colony of criminals from execution.
Sidious had given the order for Vader to be quietly placed under arrest, and to be discreetly transported off Avedot and sent straight to him. The mission on the loathsome, rebel world would carry on without error. . . because as previously determined, Vader wasn’t exactly needed.
Sidious craves murder where Vader is concerned – to be done with him; it was what he’d wanted before, when Olin had been lined up to take his place. Such a venge-filled killing was advantageous, but to kill him now, and to kill him himself, seemed a waste. . . and Sidious was curious. . .
What had prompted Vader’s abrupt departure to begin with? And had he decided to turn his back on the Empire at that point? Or had that taken place on Naboo? And was it just the Empire he’d chosen to forsake? Or was it the Sith as well? Vader had claimed he’d altered his physical state to become ‘more powerful.’ Was he? Sidious had not yet been given the opportunity to witness his potential. And he was not a fan of forfeiting potential or time; he had spent far too many years grooming the boy to eliminate the man so carelessly.
And while he valued his own time, it seemed there were others that required a lesson in the repercussions of keeping their Emperor waiting.
Impatience fuels his already sour mood. He’d had to wait for Vader to arrive, and now he was forced to wait on his hired help.
There was presently a medical professional on board who specialized in mental rehabilitation – altering perception, manipulating brain function. . . by way of pain. Sidious had been eager to get started, but Dr. Malefax Spindrall had insisted a thorough examination of the patient was required before the first ‘therapy session.’
The hour is late as it is, and tomorrow Palpatine is to make a rare appearance in the Senate – one for which he needs to be at his best. . . or most deceptive, rather.
While the Empire is new, it is important to play the part of the galaxy’s altruistic and charismatic leader, letting the politicians believe they still have a vote. These days, it was sometimes a challenge to keep his voice kind and smile warm.
But the launch of Vader’s rehabilitation was not to be put off. Sidious was a man who knew his priorities. This was an important process in delivering him the true Sith apprentice he’d longed for from the start.
*
Anakin is back in the Temple – his home away from home. The rays of the sun filter through the grand transparisteel archways, encasing the Council Chambers in an amber glow.
Anakin looks around at the grinning faces of each Master present – Master Windu, Master Fisto, even Master Yoda. . . and of course, his own Master, Obi-Wan.
“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” Obi-Wan tells him privately as he gently holds his unscathed cheek. “You prevented a war, and destroyed the Sith, and brought balance to the Force – all before achieving your Knighthood,” he chuckles gleefully.
“Thank you, Master,” Anakin beams.
“But the day has come – today, you become a Jedi.”
“It feels a little strange to become a Jedi and leave the Order all in the same day,” Anakin points out.
Obi-Wan chortles. “Well, you never do anything by half, do you?”
Anakin bashfully averts his eyes, then worriedly meets his Master’s gaze. “Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want to leave?”
“We have done all we can do, my love. There is no reason for us to stay. You fulfilled the prophecy. Now, we can be free, because you have freed us all.”
Anakin is filled with pride – and with love. . . Obi-Wan sweetly kisses his temple, just as the announcement for the start of the ceremony is being made.
“Padawans, if you will join us,” Master Windu requests kindly.
Anakin watches Obi-Wan move to take his special place in the circle.
“That’s our cue,” a lovely voice he knows well whispers to him alone. Now, an open palm floats in front of him invitingly. . .
Anakin smiles and takes hold of Ferus’ hand.
“Nervous?” Ferus questions.
“No,” Anakin answers simply. “Not so long as we do this together.” He brushes golden strands away from Ferus’ right eye, then traces around his ear and down the length of the long, brown braid.
“Good. Let’s do this, and then I’m taking you and Obi-Wan home.”
Anakin grins, and hand-in-hand, the pair take a step towards destiny.
*
*
*
Anakin’s puffy eyes struggle to open. As per usual, he has no concept of the time, but he doesn’t believe he’s nodded off for very long; a human doctor had been in with him before, and was still there now.
Anakin has figured out he’s in the medbay of Sidious’ ship. He’d been aware he was being transported back to it after he was taken off Avedot. He’d been stripped of his Vader visage – much to his relief, and was now wearing a plain med gown. . . and the Force-inhibiting shock collar.
The doctor has not spoken to him, only placed wired sensors all along his body; they are even stuck to his prosthetics. A halo-like crown surrounds his skull. Probes line the device and press into the circumference of his head.
Anakin is certain this equipment carries an ill intent, but he isn’t afraid. He is grateful for this moment of peace – the calm before the next storm. . . and the bliss in waking from a wonderful dream. . . a dream that could’ve been, and should’ve been.
These fabricated distortions of reality are all that have gotten him through the last few rotations. Even when he isn’t asleep, Anakin lets his mind explore a multitude of these pretend scenarios. Because the alternative is mentally revisiting Vader’s quarters – his hidden Sith chamber full of secrets and hate. . . and the holorecording that had changed everything, and changed nothing.
To learn the awful truth that Obi-Wan had so diligently hid from him had only made his love for his Master grow.
The sight of Obi-Wan walking away from him had been one of the most heart-wrenching things he’d ever witnessed secondhand; he can’t imagine how he would’ve felt in the moment that this had actually taken place. Anakin doesn’t know what state he was in below that bank. He doesn’t know if he’d been conscious, or if there had been any words exchanged between them, but he knows this. . .
His Master had left him, but he had not given up on him. Obi-Wan's love for him is unconditional, and Anakin is certain of this for one simple fact. . .
Their Master and Padawan bond remained intact.
Even after everything that had transpired, Obi-Wan hadn’t severed it.
Anakin recalls how emotional he had become in his reunion with Obi-Wan a handful of months ago, when he’d thought the bond had been lost upon having graduated from Padawan to Knight. Obi-Wan had revealed at that time that their bond had never been broken.
And after watching the playback of their duel, Anakin can hardly fathom how his Master had wanted to keep the connection to him – to have kept faith in him. The incriminating evidence had been right there in the footage – he himself had been the one unleashing the violent attacks, his Master left with no choice but to defend himself. It had not been a matter of misplaced rage or incorrect footing for Obi-Wan to peacefully redirect. Anakin had chosen the darkness, and he knows there was nothing his Master could’ve done to reason with him.
How devastating it must’ve been for him – to win the battle, but lose the war, a victory not even on the spectrum of bittersweet, but just undeniably absurd and unrelentingly awful. How far gone he must've been to have put Obi-Wan in such a position. Vader might’ve hated him for it – for the unfortunate ramifications of his own actions, but Anakin did not. Anakin only hates himself. He only has himself to blame.
And this reinforces what Anakin had determined since having learned of Vader. . . He’d deserved the pain he knows he felt that night, and all the nights following. He deserves the pain that is soon to come. Because any physical pain would be second to the pain his Master had felt in his heart.
And how? How had his Master so easily taken him back into his heart? And with even less hesitance than before. He had loved him and nurtured him all these months despite it all.
More than ever, Anakin is at a loss to understand the commitment both him and Ferus have shown him, and though it is futile, he hopes that commitment is wavering.
Sidious suddenly invades both the room and his thoughts. He appears extraordinarily angry as he meets Anakin’s gaze with disgust.
“Lord Vader,” Sidious greets evenly.
“That’s not my name,” Anakin grits out, because there is no point in trying to hide his feelings now.
“So, it’s true, then,” Sidious says gravely. “Your allegiance has changed. You choose to turn your back on the Empire, and the Sith.”
“I am a Jedi,” Anakin remarks fiercely.
“Oh, those are not words you’ll want to say around here, my friend.”
“I’m not your friend,” Anakin growls. “You were never my friend.”
“Emotion.” There is exhaustion behind the word. “You never understood how to use it properly. Rage. . . Hate. . . Those are the only acceptable forms of emotion, but you could never leave your bleeding heart out of it. Your pathetic hurt feelings are always a factor.” Sidious sees Anakin grimace. “Ah, see. There again. It upsets you when I insult you. Why does it not anger you? You have the ability; I know it is there. I have seen it. . . and I intend to see it again.”
Sidious stalks to the foot of the bed as he continues, “You’ve met Dr. Spindrall.” He gestures to the man punching on a keypad behind a large viewsceen several feet away. “He was recruited for a very special purpose. Through the likes of your attachments, you’ve already proven you are incapable of utilizing emotional pain as a means to enhance your abilities. Consequently, we will return to our former tactic.” The Sith smiles wickedly. “I believe you were always more susceptible physical pain.” A scowl overtakes his face. “And that is why you should’ve never left the confines of your suit,” he spits scoldingly, then reverts to his previous professional demeanor, “Now. You are already familiar with my electroshock measure of discipline. But Dr. Spindrall is here to assist in implementing it into a form of therapy. The intent here isn’t just pain, but rehabilitation. The shocks will be better controlled, and more even distributed throughout your body. . . It won’t feel good, but I do believe given time and patience, you and I can begin again. I want you to be at your best, my son. That is why I refuse to give up on you as your Jedi Master did.”
Anakin eyes are daggers. It isn’t the first time Sidious has taken a jab at Obi-Wan. But this time, he doesn’t want his anger to show. “It won’t work; I’ve changed. I won’t give in to the darkness.”
Sidious laughs. “You say that as if you never have before. Have you forgotten what you’re capable of? Have you forgotten all the things you’ve done? You want to be the good guy now? It’s too late for that. While you were off galivanting on Naboo, did you conveniently forget that you were the one to take the life of your wife?”
Anakin’s heart stops. He’d known. Deep down he’d known, but the words are an attack – rocking him to his core. He’s sure his face has betrayed him now.
Sidious raises a brow, skeptically studying his fallen apprentice for a silent moment.
“My lord,” Spindrall interrupts with both hesitancy and urgency in his tone.
Sidious approaches, as the doctor’s eyes suggest the need to come forward. “I trust we are ready to proceed,” he booms.
“Uh, yes, sir, but there is something I’d like you to review before we begin,” Spindrall informs meekly.
Anakin can hear their quiet voices, but he can’t make out what they’re saying from across the room. He sees Sidious’ yellow eyes flash with rage as they fix on the holoscreen at the workstation.
“You wish to tamper with his brain function,” Sprindrall explains. “But it appears it has already been tampered with. The neurological scans appear. . . incomplete; the patient has suffered significant memory loss.”
“Memory loss,” Sidious repeats grudgingly.
“Yes, sir, but it is unusual, because I feel certain it was not by way of physical trauma.” Spindrall points to a specific area of the scan. “Imagine this region as the web of an araneae. You can see that while everything here is connected, there is a gap, or a. . . hole – a very precise hole. Normally, with injury, we do see an interruption, but in a way in which elements such as wind or rain would damage the workings of a web in nature – when large portions are knocked out, the edges would be left raw and disconnected at varying points. Here, we see a more precision removal. . . a sizable section cleanly and deliberately erased.”
And now it all clicks.
Sidious fumes.
He has further questions, but none that the doctor can answer. “Show me how to activate the sensors.”
“Well, typically, I would handle that part while—”
“Show me,” Sidious demands.
Dr. Spindrall hits a few prompts, then hands the dark lord his own datapad.
Sidious’ lips curl hideously as he slithers back towards Vader.
“Well,” he starts calmly.
Anakin stays silent, waiting for his punishment – welcoming it. He bravely lifts his chin and squares his shoulders at the ready.
“I must say,” Sidious sings. “I’m impressed. . .”
Anakin’s dark eyes follow him back and forth as he paces.
“I did not for a moment mistake your disloyalty. . . But your talk of wanting to be more powerful, and wanting to feed your pain. . . I would never have guessed you had no memory of your life as a Sith at all.”
Anakin clamps his jaw and keeps his expression even; he tries to take in a breath without his chest indicating just how deep it is.
“Confirm it,” Sidious is sharp. “You’ve no memory of Vader, do you?” His finger hovers over an orange symbol on the display screen.
Anakin stares at him with a look of defiance. “No,” he admits fearlessly.
Sidious cackles. “Bravo, Skywalker! Bravo! Truly remarkable. . . Am I also to assume you also don’t remember the details of your mind wipe? Whether it was voluntary, or who assisted you with it. . .”
Anakin doesn’t know if these questions are rhetorical. He doesn’t speak.
“Well, I don’t suppose I care. Truth be told, this could work to our advantage. Vader had been a weak, broken man. But Skywalker. . . He had been a headstrong warrior. It was Anakin who had been able to tap into the darkness – commit atrocities for selfish purpose. He had been the one to reach full potential. . . But how much of Anakin’s recent history do you recollect?”
Anakin remains quiet, but this question was apparently not rhetorical; a piercing shock of electricity ignites his half-human, half-machine form.
The shock from the collar had stung, had knocked the wind out of him, but this. . . It was as if he were burning from the inside out – likely a glimpse of what he’d felt when he’d gotten his lava-induced scars.
The metaphorical flames hurriedly filter throughout his entire frame, and stimulate the collar around his neck, causing a second jolt to his already tortured flesh. Anakin holds in a scream, but his body involuntarily lifts from the bed.
The pain lessens, but lingers still, sending a sizzling sensation to his brain, leaving him disoriented and confused.
“Let’s see,” Sidious hums. “You must remember your dead wife, if you went to Naboo to grieve her.”
“Her name. . .” Anakin huffs out. “. . . is Padmé.” Another rush of pain threatens to send him soaring from the bed.
“Well now, then it appears you are confirming you remember your marriage. . . Do you also remember the infidelity?”
Infidelity? Anakin isn’t even sure he understands the meaning of the word in his current state of mind.
“You seem fuzzy on that one. Let me help you. Do you recall your Jedi Master fucking your wife behind your back?” Sidious pounds upon the orange prompt once more and relishes in the grunts from the Jedi.
Obi-Wan? No. . . No. Anakin swallows his urge for upset. There’s no way it’s true; Sidious’ motive is to anger him. He can’t let himself forget that – no matter how badly he fries his brain.
“Yes. It is why you killed her. It is why you fought your Master. . . that horrendous fight that left you the damaged man you are. Were you aware of that?” Sidious doesn’t relent in sending the signal to the sensors over again.
Anakin grips the fabric of the mattress beneath his fingers. His mechanical heels shuffle at the foot of the bed as he moans. . . It is logical. . . Anakin had determined the duel had been his own fault, but he had yet to uncover what had made him succumb to the darkness in the first place.
“Do you recall the fight, Anakin?” Sidious ridicules. “Do you recall being bested by that lying, cheating scumbag of a mentor? Do you remember him leaving you for dead?” He sends lightning from his own fingertips this time rather than the equipment, but it serves the sensors well, causing them to sputter and smoke. “Yes. . . Obi-Wan Kenobi. . .” he enunciates the name dreadfully slow. “He is the reason for every obstacle you have faced in your life as a Jedi, and thereafter. Doesn’t it anger you that you loved him and found no love in return?” Sidious raises his hands.
“Nooo!” Anakin yelps, because Obi-Wan does love him! . . . Doesn’t he? Anakin doesn’t have time to debate it, because another strike crackles along his spine. He screams in frustration.
“All through your apprenticeship he held you back. He didn’t want you to excel. He didn’t want you to become more powerful than him. And in the end, he was!”
Another ripple of pain, and Anakin’s tormented cry burns his throat as badly as the shock burns his body.
“He defeated you on Mustafar, but before that, he tore you down at every turn. He kept you from saving your mother; he is the reason you could not save Padmé.”
“NO!!!” Anakin hollers again as his body withers from the repetition of shocks. No, not his mother. Not Obi-Wan. No. No. Why? NO!
“He despised you. From the moment he lost his Master because of you – he was stuck with you, resented you – hated you. Let that hate flow through you now!”
Anakin can’t help it. He sobs. He hadn’t wanted to let his vulnerability show, but this is too much. It hurts. It hurts his mind. It hearts his heart.
“The tears,” Sidious taunts. “The incorrect kind of emotion.”
This charge viciously races up his back and is centralized to the contraption on his head. And Anakin finds he isn’t able to cry out.
“WEAK! THEY HAVE MADE YOU WEAK!! YOU DID NOT SHOW THEM TEARS THE NIGHT YOU MURDERED THAT CHEATING WHORE!! YOU SHOWED THEM YOUR ANGER! YOUR MERCILESS, BOUNTIFUL RAGE!! YOU TOOK YOUR REVENGE!!”
Anakin feels a cool, bony hand delicately press to his cheek. He groans and recoils.
Sidious turns gentle, and placating, “Do not turn away from me; I am all you have left in this life. I care for you, Anakin, I always have.” He holds the patient’s jaw affectionately and leans in closer to him, whispering in his ear, “I know you. I am the only one who does. . . I know your innermost desire. . . And I know you wanted him. I know of your wet dreams of him. And he knew as well. Oh, yes. He knew. But he did not care. He rejected you – in every possible way. He never wanted you; he never wanted Padmé. He only sought her out because he knew it would hurt you. And they laughed,” Sidious emphasizes. “They laughed behind your back at the fool you were – the fool you are. But only through me, can you become something more.”
The physical pain doesn’t come this time, or perhaps the emotional pain cancels it out. Anakin’s eyes are slammed shut, the man's damp breath lingers in his ear. . . as do his agonizing words.
*
“Obi-Wan? OBI-WAN?!” Sabé shouts.
Obi-Wan and Sabé had been having mission-related conversation in her room in the early morning. But the Jedi Master has just slipped off her bed, falling to his knees, and then furling on the floor.
“Obi-Wan, what’s wrong?!” Sabé meets him on the ground, hands clutched to his shoulders.
Obi-Wan gurgles, and gasps, “Anakin,” he wheezes. “He’s near,” he gulps. “They’re near.” He sucks air into his lungs. He puts one palm to his chest and the other to his head. “He’s in so much pain,” Obi-Wan chokes out.
Sabé is mortified. Obi-Wan and Ferus had revealed to her Palpatine’s true identity as a Sith. She had known all the Jedi were Imperial targets from the start, but now she better understood the focus on Anakin; Sidious would want the Chosen One on the opposing side. “Are they on-world?” she asks worriedly.
“Not yet,” Obi-Wan lets out a harsh exhale. “But they’re close. Likely enroute.” He braces himself with a hand on the mattress. “I won’t be able to get to him while they’re traveling through hyperspace, but they’re coming. . . Ferus shouldn’t have left.” Obi-Wan lethargically digs his comlink out of his pocket to initiate a call.
“Neither of you could’ve known,” Sabé soothes. “But I am with you all the way; we’re getting Anakin back – today.”
The call fails, as service is unavailable. Obi-Wan plants one foot on the floor in an attempt to rise.
Sabé holds him in place. “Easy.”
“We need to set up stakeouts of the skies; we need to be ready.” Obi-Wan’s frown turns to a scowl, and he makes a shaking fist. “The moment he enters the atmosphere, I’m—”
“That’s not the plan,” Sabé reminds carefully. “It’s better to wait until Sidious is in the Senate session. It’s our best chance at getting Anakin to safety undetected.” They weren’t dealing with an ordinary politician, and it was best to avoid him if possible.
Obi-Wan sinks back to the carpet.
“Can you still feel him?”
“No. . . not now,” Obi-Wan laments. The connection has been lost, but he feels the remnants of pain, and tears fill his eyes. Since Anakin had been taken, he’d left himself detectable through the Force – there hadn’t been any reason to hide any longer, since he’d actually hoped to come in contact with the Sith – so that he could get to Anakin. But all this time, he’d only felt a vague sense of his life form, nothing more. . . until now.
Obi-Wan looks at the beacon on his wrist. Just as he'd not been able to get through via comlink, the tracking device has been unable to pinpoint location. “I just don’t understand; Ferus should’ve made it to his destination by now. It’s a four-hour voyage at most. We’d discussed how fortunate we were that. . . Vakkar is so close to Coruscant.” He tries to refresh the device again, but to no avail. “He can’t possibly still be in hyperspace,” he grunts out agitated. “What good is this thing if it can’t track its mate? That’s its whole purpose!” Obi-Wan remorsefully calms, unable to meet Sabé’s gaze.
Sabé doesn’t chide him for raising his voice. She can’t imagine how upsetting it must be to have the awareness that Anakin is hurting and being unable to do anything to help him. And now the realization is sinking in that the two of them will soon be tasked with rescuing Anakin alone; Obi-Wan had seemed so certain that Ferus would find him on Vakkar, just moments ago.
Obi-Wan starts drafting a message. “If he hasn’t already arrived, we’ll need him to turn right back around the moment he does. . . I hope this gets through.” He sends the alert, just as the sound of a baby crying can be heard. Obi-Wan cringes; he hopes Leia hadn’t somehow sensed any of that horrible pain – second, or even third level.
Sabé ventures to tease, “Someone must’ve told her Ferus left”.
Obi-Wan snorts an exhausted laugh. His smile is slight, but full of gratitude. “I know how she feels.”
Sabé helps Obi-Wan to his feet. “Just a few more hours,” she reassures. “Just a few more hours, and this will all be over.”
“Will it? We sneak Anakin off the ship and take him home, but we’ll always have to sleep with one eye open. We’ll always have to be on guard.”
“It’ll all be over soon,” Sabé reiterates adamantly.
*
The rehabilitation had gone on for what felt like hours to Anakin. There had been breaks in between, but Sidious always seemed to resurface.
This last time, however; the doctor had removed the sensors and headpiece, turned out the lights, and left the room.
The Force-inhibiting shock collar remains uncomfortably around his neck, and the air seems to have gotten colder. Unfortunately, there aren’t any coverings on the bed, and Anakin doesn’t know if he’s shivering from the room temperature or trauma to his body.
Sleep would be a mercy. Anakin would like to once again slip away into one of his fantasy slumber stories, but he is already uncertain as to what’s real and what’s make believe, and it's probably best not to aid the confusion. Plus, every time he closes his eyes and tries to envision Obi-Wan’s comforting smile, or allows his soporific voice to permeate his thoughts, he’s reminded of Sidious’ devilish claims.
Anakin keeps telling himself it was all lies, but he is a muddled swirl of doubt, and sorrow and guilt. Each time he conjures a positive thought, a negative one counters it, almost simultaneously.
But in the midst of the chaos that clouds his mind and tells him he is unlovable, he knows he at least has love to give.
Maybe Obi-Wan doesn’t love him anymore, or maybe he never did, but Anakin loves him, and he is torn in wishing his Master would come to rescue him and praying he’ll stay away.
Anakin doesn’t want Obi-Wan anywhere near this place – anywhere near Sidious. . . or anywhere near him.
Because Anakin fears the transition might have already taken shape. Sidious had succeeded in it before. Anakin had made that choice before. Anakin had killed Padmé, and he’d killed Roan. There was no Vader. There was just him. He had made the catastrophic pledge. He had murdered countless innocents. And for what? Because of Obi-Wan and Padmé? Was that really the reason? Had he really been that self-centered that he would forgo his prophecy and compromise the galaxy because of his attachments?
If so, then Sidious was right about him – about the abominations he was capable of, and the abomination that he was.
What else was he right about?
And how soon would the torture start again?
And how many sessions would it be before Anakin lost the will to fight?
How long would it be until he was consumed by the darkness like before?
And once he was, would he go after Obi-Wan – after Ferus?
The thought is unbearable. Because Anakin couldn’t bear to disappoint Obi-Wan again. . .
But would Obi-Wan even be disappointed? Or was this something he’d come to expect from his weak, failure of an apprentice?
Did Obi-Wan still love him?
Did he ever?
Anakin wants to bash his head against the wall to make the endless loop of questions stop. He rolls over onto his stomach and smothers his face into the mattress. His eyes burn, but he does not cry. He can’t cry – or isn’t supposed to, or something.
He pounds his fist down, letting out a frenzied scream, muffled in the bed.
Lifting up on his knees, he brings his body into a fetal position. He writhes in place, his hands now covering his eyes and forehead. “Help me,” he mutters to no one. “HELP!” His raised voice still only comes out as a whimper. He squirms to the edge of the bed and slumps right down onto the unforgiving permacrete floor, then sprawls out flat on his back.
To view the room from a different angle is a nice distraction – a welcome change of pace. He looks under the bed at a triangular shape of light projected from a monitor above. He observes the lines of the tile that it intersects. An uncontrolled arm rises, fingers piddling with the lift mechanism of the bed. It elevates.
And now the green glow from the electronics highlights the durasteel crate the mattress rest in. Anakin notes that this is not a very modern or top-of-the-line design. These are the sort of cheap bedframes he and his mother had had back home on Tatooine. They are made to give with the occupant’s weight, almost like a hammock – the purpose being a more comfortable rest, as they were typically lined with a thin bed pad, rather than a plush mattress.
As his thoughts are pulled to his mother, and the grief he’s caused her, Anakin instead fixates on the hundreds of small, interlocking pieces of metal that make up the frame. They form a grid pattern, and Anakin counts the square shapes along the length of the bed, and then across the width, then multiplies to get a total of two hundred sixteen. Now, he nestles an exposed mechno finger between the mattress and one of the random wire-like slats. He tugs forcefully, and the metal breaks away, left held in his hand.
Anakin brings the inches long, broken rod out from under the bed and holds it up to his face. He examines the jagged edge he’s created, and morbidly wonders if it’s sharp enough to pierce flesh.
It’s not. And it’s not as if he can slash a prosthetic wrist anyway, and the collar around his neck would prevent him from getting to any major arteries there, but still. . .
This concept is appealing.
In all the disarray, it is a thought that is finally left uncontradicted. . . because it’s a thought that makes a lot of sense.
Anakin couldn’t hurt anyone if he wasn’t here.
He couldn’t be turned to the dark side if he wasn’t alive.
If he was gone, he could save himself the turmoil in wondering if anyone still loved him.
And he could spare himself the hurt if he were to learn that they didn’t.
Or, if they somehow did, he could prevent them from making the mistake of doing so.
Here were solid, concrete answers to put a rest to all of his reoccurring questions, and the ultimate conclusion: the galaxy would be a much better place if he weren’t in it. . . He only wishes he’d realized sooner. Because then Padmé would still be alive, as would Roan, and Ferus would be happy. And Obi-Wan. . . Well, if he’s of the mind for wishful thinking, then Anakin wishes he would’ve never been born at all. Because even if Obi-Wan did ever love him, the fact is, he shouldn’t have.
Anakin sits up, reaching under the bed, and hurriedly ripping away more of the hardware that supports the mattress. When there is a sufficient pile collected between his open legs, resourcefully, he lets his metal fingers serve as pliers while forging the pliable steel into oval links to form a chain. The chain doesn’t have to be long, just strong; it has to sustain his weight.
Upon completion, Anakin tests its durability between his mechanical arms, then makes one final, more robust link to serve as a connector for the collar around his neck.
With an unexpected burst of adrenaline, Anakin finds the strength to balance on the railing at the foot of the bed as he stretches to secure the other end of the chain to a light fixture overhead. Once he has it hooked, he yanks on it to make sure it’s secure. . . All he has to do is step off the ledge. . .
He hesitates.
Anakin reminds himself that he is doing the right thing; he is doing the noble thing. This will be better for everyone. He’ll no longer be a burden to those whom he’d forced into his life. And this will ensure Vader will not return.
Anakin wants to live, but that’s not what he deserves. This is the only way to atone.
He closes his eyes, extends a foot. . .
“Anakin. . .” a ubiquitous voice in the darkness calls out to him. “Anakin, stop.”
Startled blue eyes pop open to scan the space. The exit door is still latched, and no one is there. Anakin surmises what he’d heard had only been present in his own complicated mind. He takes in a breath, and shuts his eyes once more; he has to do this.
“Anakin, my love. Don’t do this.”
All of the lights had been off, but a brilliant, heavenly beam shines down upon him, intensifying to a wattage greater than anything all the fixtures in the room combined could produce. Anakin squints, unsuccessful in trying to see; the light is blinding.
“Take this off.”
Anakin feels the tension of the chain disconnect from the collar, but doesn’t feel any human breath or touch.
“Come here, Ani. Everything will be all right. Talk to me.”
Anakin doesn’t descend from his place perched on the footboard, but suddenly finds himself sitting comfortably on the bed. His head turns sharp at the change in position, not comprehending what’s happening. And now he is face to face with. . .
“Padmé?” Anakin stutters in disbelief.
The radiance of Padmé’s smile outshines the ethereal glow around her ghostly form.
Anakin gasps. “Are you. . . ? Are you an angel?”
Though the room hadn’t been ideal for such acoustics, Padmé’s laugh mysteriously echoes from all around. “You’ll always be my funny boy.” Her omnipresent voice quiets to a natural tone, while the orb around her burns out. The brightness from above is also extinguished.
Anakin's ability to cry returns tenfold. “I’m sorry,” he blubbers. “I’m so sorry,” he weeps.
Padmé frowns in sympathy. “Don’t cry; it’s all right,” she lulls.
Anakin cries anyway, as the once love of his life holds a palm to his cheek. He frantically reaches to cover it with his own. He sobs, because he knows this can’t be real. . . but how he wishes it were, because then he could tell her, “I never wanted to hurt you.” Anakin squeezes her hand; it feels so soft, and so warm.
“I know that,” Padmé professes tenderly. “I know your heart. And I know you’re hurting now, but you can’t give up.” She wipes a tear from Anakin’s cheek.
“I’m not giving up, I—” Anakin hiccups. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he snivels. “I’m so confused.”
“And I’m here to help you.”
“Why?” Anakin chokes out. “You should be last person to help me,” he decides cross.
“Maybe I am,” Padmé proposes quizzically, then smiles. “Obi-Wan first saved you, then Ferus. . . It's my turn.”
Anakin wails at the mentions, folding forward with his face in his hands.
Padmé pulls him further down into her lap and cradles him close. She feels Anakin clutch her leg as she soothingly strokes his hair.
“You’re really here,” Anakin bawls.
“I am. And I’m here to tell you that it’s not your time, Anakin; they need you, and not just them – there are others that need you, too, in ways you don’t yet understand.”
“Didn’t you need me, too?” Anakin lifts his head to hysterically shout it out. “And I hurt you! I don’t want to hurt anyone else,” he whines.
“I did need you, and I was blessed to have you.” Padmé takes his wet face between her palms. “There are times when we inevitably hurt the ones we love, but it is in our nature to make mistakes. And making mistakes is how we grow.”
Anakin’s crying halts at the similarity – the very same sentiment having recently come from Sabé. He sniffs back tears. “I don’t want to make any more mistakes,” he explains wrecked.
“But you will, and that’s okay.” Padmé prompts Anakin to sit up straighter, and they move closer together. “I know you’ve always strived for perfection, but you have to learn to let go. It was your desperation for control that led to your downfall.” Padmé considers Anakin’s horrified yet questioning look; she is aware that he has forgotten, “You had a vision I was going to die,” she reveals. “You were afraid, and you thought if you learned the ways of the Sith, you could stop it from happening; Palpatine told you as much, and at the time, you didn’t know his true intent, and understandably, you trusted him. He lured you in; none of it had been premeditated. . . It all happened so fast.” Padmé finds herself tearing up as well.
Anakin hates seeing her glassy eyes. Now he knows, he had tried to help her, but his fear – his greed to gain power and control, had costs them both in the end. “I’m so sorry,” he stresses hushed, and broken.
“I forgive you,” Padmé promises.
Anakin sobs, and the couple grip each other tight.
Anakin hadn’t thought she’d ever forgive him, but somehow, he feels it; he feels Padmé’s absolute acceptance; he feels her love, and he loves her, too. “Are you sure it’s not my time?” he tearfully blows out from over her shoulder. “Couldn’t I just go with you?”
Padmé chuckles. “You can’t go with me. You’ve been given a second chance, and you won’t want to waste it.”
“It’s just. . . so unfair,” Anakin pouts emotionally. “You didn’t get a second chance after making the mistake of marrying me.”
“That surely wasn’t a mistake,” Padmé defends knowingly. “Our time together was short, but it was filled with love, and so much good came from it.”
“But you died,” Anakin’s voice cracks. “How is that good?”
Padmé takes his hands. “I may have died, but our love lives on.” Now, she smiles, and gives him the news. . . “Through the hearts of our children.”
Anakin looks at her in astonishment.
Padmé grins. “You have to go on, Anakin – for our children.”
“We had children,” Anakin breathes out the statement in shock.
“We did. They are with wonderful parents, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be a part of their lives; they need you to be a part of their lives.”
“Where are they?” Anakin asks wide-eyed. “How can I find them? Who are their parents?”
Padmé shushes him. “In time,” she coaches softly. “One thing at a time.” The earlier illumination surrounds her again.
“Padmé,” Anakin panics. “Please don’t go.” The path of light from above returns, and Anakin feels a wave of fatigue, suddenly finding himself lying down on the bed – a bed he’d not so long ago torn apart, seemingly back together. His eyes close despite his best efforts to keep them open, but he knows Padmé is still there; he feels her touch, fingers carding through his hair. “Please tell me. . . where they are,” he struggles.
“Obi-Wan will soon come, and he will take you to them.”
“Obi-Wan?” Anakin slurs.
“Yes, Obi-Wan,” Padmé replies sweetly.
Anakin feels the warmth of a thick blanket surrounding him as Padmé tucks him in from chin to toes. . . There hadn’t been any linens on the bed before.
“Many things have changed, but my caring for you will always remain,” Padmé whispers to him.
Anakin exhales, smiling serenely at the memory of her words. . . It had been his very first voyage into space, and he had been cold, but Padmé had been there, wrapping him a cozy blanket, just as she did now. “I’ve always loved you,” he confesses groggily.
“I’ve always loved you, too.”
Anakin feels her lips upon his cheek.
“Be strong, my love. Hold on just a little longer.”
“Padmé,” Anakin makes one last attempt to speak – a plea for her to stay.
Padmé shushes him again. “Sleep. You need your rest before Obi-Wan comes.”
“Please stay,” Anakin murmurs.
“I will.”
“Until Obi-Wan comes?” Anakin is barely audible now.
“Yes. Until Obi-Wan comes. . . and thereafter.”
Notes:
CONTENT WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:
Physical torture (shocks only)
Emotional abuse
Suicide attempt (in last portion)
*
*
*
And I thought I'd struggled with the last chapter 😮💨 Countless hours went into this one, and the editing process was interesting. I typically read through, restructure, and edit in chronological order. . . many, many times over. But I found with this run through, I kept skipping (avoiding) the last segment and jumping back to the beginning. I remember being in a very dark place personally when writing the first draft of this chapter, and truthfully, I've toned it down quite a bit since then (I hadn't even given Anakin that happy dream). It was scarier than I thought it would be to revisit this, especially considering how difficult this past Spring has been. Streets of Gold was definitely my coping, ‘feel happy’ story. It was an escape from real life troubles. But this story has unsuspectingly forced me to deal with my own grief. It has not been easy, but I believe it’s been beneficial. Fanfic is truly free therapy 🙌🏻
For the times when the enemy has fried your brain. . .
Bring You Love Spotify
Bring You Love YouTube❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹 Thanks for reading 🫂
Chapter 36
Notes:
Here we are. . . Two-hundred THOUSAND words. I never dreamed this story would evolve the way it has. In my original plot, I thought it might reach 100k. When I finished the first draft, I was at 175. And now. . . We still have more story to tell! (I actually cut this chapter off at a stopping point sooner than planned, so it’s possible we could have 40 chapters – we shall see!)
I hope you enjoy this one! It’s much easier to digest than the last 🫂
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
From the rooftop of a building neighboring the Senate Rotonda, Obi-Wan had watched Sidious’ Imperial ship dock. It had landed more than an hour before Palpatine’s address was scheduled to begin, and it had taken extreme restraint not to sneak aboard the vessel a moment before he and Sabé had planned.
Now that the Sith was on-world, Obi-Wan had reverted back to making himself undetectable through the Force, but prior to doing so, he had begun to feel Anakin’s presence again; although, rather than the pain that had driven him to his knees earlier in the morning, Obi-Wan now feels peace. And while this may seem like a positive change, the mysteriousness of the extreme, opposite shift worries him further.
Finally, the ship's main ramp lowers. Sidious’ red-cloaked guards file out of the craft first, and Obi-Wan is overcome with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when the man himself appears. . . He is well-hidden beneath layers of swaying black fabric as he is escorted along the path leading to the dome-topped pavilion. A hood covers Sidious' head, and with elbows bent at ninety, his pale fingers are the only part of him exposed.
Obi-Wan alerts Bail on a two-way, “He’s approaching.”
“Copy,” Bail replies. “I’ll notify you when he is seated and the session has officially begun.”
“It might still be a while,” Sabé reminds Obi-Wan intently.
“I know,” Obi-Wan sighs. “I know we have to wait.” Getting Anakin off the ship discreetly is key. Even if Ferus were here, they would be in no position to battle Sidious; even Master Yoda hadn’t been able to defeat him. They get Anakin back, and they go back into hiding. That is the only plan.
In preparation to board the ship, Obi-Wan and Sabé move to the landing platform. Sabé notices Obi-Wan glancing at the beacon on his wrist for the hundredth time in the last hour alone. “Still nothing?” she prompts.
“Nothing.”
“He’s got to be on his way by now.”
“I sure hope so.”
When Bail sends the signal, Obi-Wan stealthily enters the ship, while Sabé stays below to keep watch of the two entrances – the senatorial complex, and the ship itself; Bail hopes to make contact when the session wraps, but there is an understanding that he could easily become tied up in political affairs and unable to access his radio.
Leven accompanies Obi-Wan, and the duo first seek out the ship’s security center. Two white-armored troops are eliminated, and both communications and holorecording capabilities are quickly disabled.
Obi-Wan continues on, quick, but light on his feet, the droid hovering urgently beside him. The craft is eerily empty and silent, and Obi-Wan is almost skeptical of how simple getting around seems to be.
He only slightly opens himself up in the Force, trying to get a feel for Anakin’s precise location. Moving toward the still-peaceful presence, Obi-Wan senses that Anakin is asleep, and when he and Leven come to a medical wing of the vessel, he feels certain Anakin is inside.
Upon entering the unit, Obi-Wan takes down three more unsuspecting stormtroopers who’d been sitting down on the job. He steps past them, quieting his breathing as he approaches a light shining out into the hallway. Just outside of the open door, he hears the clicking of keys and the occasional beep of machinery.
Obi-Wan surmises that the employee inside is one of higher status than the typical troop - possibly a medical professional. He nods to Anakin’s droid, and Leven zooms inside to serve as a distraction.
Obi-Wan hears the commentary; Leven has gotten the person’s attention. And when the droid gives the signal that the man’s back would be to him, Obi-Wan moves in and opens blaster fire.
Two officers in grey monitor a sealed door at the end of the hall. Obi-Wan meets their gaze, but before either of them can react, or even speak, he squeezes the trigger of his uncivilized weapon twice over.
Leven gets to work on picking the lock as Obi-Wan slides their enemies away from the doorway.
“Once I’m in, I want you to do a full scan of the remainder of the craft, in the event that complications arise. Import the schematics into your memory bank, and note the headcount in each sector. If all goes as planned, I’ll notify you when we’re heading out.”
Leven chirps in agreement, his little arm making one last pivot as the lock mechanism releases.
“Very good, friend,” Obi-Wan praises. “I’ll be in touch.”
Leven extends his tiny, mechanical appendage to mimic a humanoid thumbs-up gesture, then hovers back down the hall.
Obi-Wan hurries into the secure patient room, which appears to be void of signs of life. It’s dark, save for the subtle projection of green lights from a bedside monitor. . . And there on the bed. . . is Anakin.
Obi-Wan races to him.
Wrapped tightly in a blanket, only Anakin’s face is exposed; Obi-Wan first puts a palm to his forehead, then the back of his hand to his cheek. He registers a normal temperature, and from what he can see, Anakin’s coloring looks good as well. His breathing is rhythmic, and the monitor shows a steady heartbeat. Obi-Wan exhales in relief.
“Anakin,” he calls quietly as he combs through his hair and caresses his cheek. “Baby. . .” Unbidden tears cause his voice to waver.
A small smile forms on Anakin’s lips, and his body lengthens in a stretch beneath the blanket. His eyes remain closed, but his neck is now visible. . . Obi-Wan gasps, leaning forward for a closer look at the red abrasions he identifies as those left from a shock collar. Fortunately, the skin does not appear to be broken or burned, just irritated.
Obi-Wan takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Anakin, sweetheart,” he calls closely to his ear. “I’m here to take you home, love.”
Anakin lets out a soft grunt, mouth twitching. His eyes slowly flicker open and rapidly blink as they focus on the familiar figure in front of him. Anakin stares, trying to determine if what he is seeing is an illusion. He quietly reflects on the last thing he remembers – Padmé. Padmé had been here with him. She’d saved him, and she’d promised him Obi-Wan would come, and here he was. Anakin abruptly rises up and into his Master’s arms.
The immediate sobs don’t catch Obi-Wan off guard. “Oh, baby,” he lulls as he holds Anakin’s shaking form. “Oh, sweetheart, what happened? Tell me what hurts. What did he do?” He begins bawling along with his Padawan. “I’ll never let him hurt you again – never; you’re safe now. . . You’re safe.”
Even with his face buried in his Master’s neck, Anakin’s loud cries aren’t stifled.
Obi-Wan struggles to find the right words. He grips Anakin tight, stroking the back of his head and pressing his lips to his temple. “I’m here,” he tries. “I’m here now, and everything will be all right.”
Anakin pulls back only far enough to look him in the eye, continuing to break down as his face is held tenderly between his Master's large palms.
Obi-Wan isn’t sure if this reaction is purely emotional or if Anakin is physically hurting. “Where does it hurt, love?” he asks again. His fingertips gently graze the chafed flesh. “Here?”
Anakin grasps at his own neck in astonishment. The collar was gone – he remembers now that Padmé had removed it; she’d really, truly been here. “Padmé said you’d come,” are the first words he hiccups.
Obi-Wan’s brows knit. Confusion, or even hallucinations, are side effects of electroshock. “Yes, I’m here,” he confirms without correcting or questioning.
“She said you’d take me to my children.”
Obi-Wan’s mouth flops open. . . Then, he lets acceptance wash over him. This was Anakin, after all; the ability to forge a mystical connection to a sentient that had transformed into the Force really wasn’t so far-fetched, was it? “I will. I promise.”
“Where are they?”
“They’re safe.”
“You knew about them all along,” Anakin assumes cross.
“I did.”
“But you couldn’t tell me.”
Obi-Wan aches. “I should have. I’m sorry.”
“No,” Anakin bawls. “I’m sorry,” he wails.
Obi-Wan tries to keep him in his hold as Anakin pulls away and starts sobbing again.
“I saw it,” Anakin cries, his lip violently quivering. “I saw our fight.”
Obi-Wan has no doubt that Anakin is referring to Mustafar; he’d anticipated he’d learn the truth in Sidious’ care. But what did he mean he ‘saw’ it, and why was he sorry?
“I’m sorry,” Anakin repeats. “I’m sorry for what I did. I wanted to be good. I wanted to be good for you, but I was so bad, and I’m sorry, Obi-Wan; I’m sorry we fought – I’m sorry!”
Obi-Wan looks at him in disbelief, relentless tears raining down, “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he sputters. “I’m sorry I. . . I’m sorry I left you,” he blubbers.
“You had to,” Anakin defends wrecked. “I made you do it!” he cries. “Me, Obi-Wan. I forced you to leave. . . and I know it was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do.” The last of his words come out hushed and choked.
Obi-Wan is bawling. He can only nod his acknowledgement of that absolute truth; it was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
“You loved me, and I betrayed you,” Anakin snivels.
“I betrayed you,” Obi-Wan counters miserably. “It was wrong to leave you to suffer.”
“I deserved it.”
“No!” Obi-Wan is sharp. “Absolutely not— no!” He shakes his head defiantly.
Anakin sniffles. “I did deserve it, even if I don’t now, I did then.” He swallows hard. “It happened, Master. . . I don’t want you pretend it didn’t happen anymore,” he begs tearfully.
Obi-Wan gawks, speechless and drowning in his own tears.
“You have to accept it,” Anakin continues brokenly. “I don’t want you to feel badly for what happened; I don’t want you to feel guilty anymore. You loved me enough to spare me, and you loved me enough to hold onto me, even when I was gone.” He fights to control his crying, so he can relay this crucial revelation, “I know now. I know in my heart that somehow you actually do forgive me, even if I can’t forgive myself, and I want to let you forgive me – I don’t want to be selfish; I won’t run away anymore, and if you want to love me, I’ll let you, I promise,” Anakin finishes just as he breaks down again.
“Darling, I do love you,” Obi-Wan professes as he pulls Anakin back into his embrace. “And I promise I’ll never hide the truth from you again – I’ll never leave you again. Never!” he vows emotionally.
“You never did,” Anakin absolves through tears. “The bond,” he offers up. “You never really let me go.”
Obi-Wan is in awe. . . Of all the people to help him to see what he had failed to realize before. . . “No, I guess I never did,” he finds himself agreeing; he’d walked away, but he’d never let go. “I couldn’t. I loved you too much.” He rocks Anakin in his arms. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Anakin sniffles from over his shoulder. “Where’s Ferus?”
And as fast as Obi-Wan’s spirits had been lifted, he is filled with dread once more. “He’s. . . he’s coming.” How easy it would be to keep it at that – this half-truth, this fib, but he can see the doubt painted all over Anakin’s face, and he had just promised he would never lie to him again. “We’d heard you were on Avedot, so he went there.”
Anakin’s eyes go wide, knowing of the planet's Imperial presence.
“I do believe he’s fine,” Obi-Wan assures. “He left well after midnight, and likely arrived to jammed communications; I alerted him I’d found you, but whether he got that message or not, he would’ve turned back upon discovering you weren’t there; the timing allows for him to be on a return route in hyperspace about now.”
“What time is it? What day is it? And where are we?”
Obi-Wan frowns in sympathy. Before he can reply, his communication device chimes. He squeezes Anakin’s shoulder and accepts the transmission. “I have him,” he tells Sabé before she can speak first.
“Oh, thank goodness. Are we ready to move? Is he all right?”
“Sabé??” Anakin replies for himself.
Sabé smiles. “It’s so good to hear your voice. Are you okay?”
Anakin looks to Obi-Wan.
“He’s. . . We should be able to get moving soon. All still clear?”
“I don’t think for much longer; based on the activity I’m seeing, I’d say we’re about to wrap – two of the Redrobes have come out.”
“Okay. We’ll meet you at—”
“Wait,” Sabé cuts him off. She leaves the connection open as she takes cover. “Get out,” she whispers fiercely. “I’ll stall.”
“What?!” Obi-Wan asks in horror. “Don’t!”
“Anakin’s the priority! Get him out! That’s the mission! I’ll be fine.”
And the connection is lost.
Obi-Wan looks at Anakin. “She must’ve seen him; he’ll come straight here,” he informs in dismay. “We have to move. Can you. . . ? Can you get up? Can you walk?” he queries delicately.
Anakin stirs. “I think so. . . But we can’t leave Sabé.”
“She’ll be okay, and she was right; we have to get you out of here first.” Obi-Wan helps him to his feet, realizing he is in nothing but a med gown and without even boots on his feet. He sighs, takes the plush blanket from the bed and wraps it around Anakin’s shoulders. “We don’t have far to go once we get out – Senator Organa’s office. Do you remember where that is?”
“We’re on Coruscant??” Anakin asks.
Obi-Wan hums. “We’re on Coruscant, and we’re approaching midday. There's just been an address at the Senate, and that is why you were left unattended.”
Bail's low, muffled voice comes through the two-way. “We have not yet adjourned, but our leader has exited ahead of schedule. Do not reply.”
And there is the confirmation. Obi-Wan picks up speed, his arm clutching Anakin’s waist, guiding his steps. He hits the prompt for Leven to make his exit as well. “How we doing? Moving okay?”
“Uh. . .” Anakin is already winded, but at least his legs are cooperating, albeit a bit wobbly. “Slower than I’d like,” he admits.
“Okay, we don’t have much further to go.”
*
Sabé boldy steps out onto the walking path that leads from the Senate to the Imperial ship. She isn’t afraid of the Sith – she isn’t afraid of Palpatine. She plants her feet, wide-legged stance, hands on her hips, as the wind blows her white, voluminous poncho dramatically to one side.
Sidious scowls when he sees her. He knows this face – the face of the former queen. . . the decoy. Anger burns within him as it all comes together; Skywalker had been with her on Naboo.
Weapons at the ready surround Sabé. She does not flinch, but continues to stand tall. She sees Sidious raise a hand for his guards to lower their blasters. “Emperor Palpatine,” she grits out with false pleasantry.
Sidious’ quota on formalities had just about all been used up for the day. “Tsabin Rayne of Naboo. How wonderful to see you.”
“Funny you should say that, when I had requested multiple conferences with you over the last year and a half.”
Sidious internally snarls at her disrespect. He should have let his staff shoot her dead on the spot. . . But that would not do on public terrain. “Ah, yes.” He strides forward, towards his ship, motioning for her to follow. “I do recall; you had wished to discuss the investigation of the deceased.”
“Padmé,” Sabé corrects vehemently. “She had a name.”
“Of course. My queen.” A wicked idea infiltrates the mind of the evil Sith. “Truth be told, my dear, I did not allow for an appointment, simply because I did not have any answers for you. . . though, I do now. . .”
Sabé hadn’t expected this. “Oh?”
“Yes, but I don’t believe it proper to release such sensitive information to someone who had been harboring a fugitive – someone who has turned her back on the planet she claims to love and serve – on the queen she claims to have loved and served.”
Sabé halts her steps at the implication, glaring at the Sith from behind.
Now standing idle as well, Sidious' lips curl, knowing he’d gotten to her. He allows his face to convey remorse as he turns on his heel to face her again. “I regret to inform that I must place you under arrest.” The Redrobes move into position at the indirect command.
Sabé squirms in protest as her arms are forced behind her back. “I am only here to demand that appointment you denied me; I know nothing of the fugitive you speak.”
“You would dare to lie to me,” Sidious growls. “When I know you’ve been protecting that traitorous Jedi filth,” he bellows.
“I would only protect an innocent man,” Sabé fires back.
Palpatine scoffs as he laughs. “Innocent?” And it really is comical that this woman doesn’t have a clue. She will soon be enlightened. . . “Ironic that the information you so desperately seek is right there in front of you.”
Sabé struggles as the guards begin to force her to the ship.
“I know why you’ve come; I know you want Skywalker. But let us have a talk in my quarters, and we’ll see if you still want him when we’re through.”
Sabé resists, not for her own benefit, but to keep Sidious from accessing the craft. She’s certain Obi-Wan and Anakin would’ve found an alternative exit by now, but she’ll stall as long as she possibly can. . . and it would seem she is supported in her intent. . .
The sounds of lightsabers springing to life echo from overhead.
Every enemy present on the path looks towards the threat: a trio of vibrant green blades near the wing of the cruiser. . . and a pale blue one further down the ship’s hull.
“Shoot them!!” Sidious orders. “Take her away!”
*
When Obi-Wan hears the sound of blaster fire, he scoops Anakin up in his arms, and he runs.
He had gotten Anakin down to the skyway platform below, and they had been hastening to the Senate building. The lower-level entry that will allow them access to Bail’s office is meters away.
Anakin wiggles in his Master’s hold. “FERUS!!!” he screams.
And if that means what he thinks it means, then Obi-Wan wants nothing more than to turn back, but he must get Anakin to safety. Moving on fatigued legs, he fights against Anakin’s unwillingness to be held and does not stop until he reaches the confines of Bail’s office.
“We have to go back!” Anakin panics.
Obi-Wan plops him down on a couch, bracing him as he thrashes.
“Master!” Anakin shrieks.
Obi-Wan shushes him. “Okay. Okay,” he placates. “I know; I understand. Listen.” He holds Anakin’s face, and the wildness in his eyes begins to calm. “I’m going to go back—”
“Not without me!” Anakin interrupts.
“Sweetheart, you aren’t even wearing pants.”
“My boots!” Anakin points to the pair sitting in a corner next to his traveling pack, both items last seen at the lake house. “Those are my things! There! Aren’t they?!”
Obi-Wan hangs his head. Yes, he and Ferus had brought all of Anakin’s belongings to Coruscant. Ferus had left in a hurry without them, but then it had come to light that Anakin wouldn’t be rescued on Avedot anyhow. So, Obi-Wan had stowed them away in Bail’s office – even Anakin’s lightsaber was inside the pack, as he had been taken in his dress clothes and without a belt to house weapons. “Darling, you’re hardly able to walk.”
“I’m okay now,” Anakin argues. “I just hadn’t been up for a while, but I’m good!”
Obi-Wan smooths a collection of curls behind his ear, “You need to be seen by a medic before you do anything else.” His fingers trace over the irritated flesh around Anakin’s neck. “Even if you don’t have any major physical injuries, there is still cause for concern over what might be going on internally; your lungs need to be examined before you catch yourself getting too winded.”
“I’m not letting you and Ferus fight him alone.”
“We aren’t going to fight him. We’re going to flee back here to you, and we’re going to go home. I need you to stay right here, baby, please.” But Obi-Wan is coming to terms with the fact that there won’t be anyone here to force Anakin to obey. So now, he must make a choice – stay with Anakin, and wait – hope. Or take matters into his own hands and see that Ferus and Sabé get to safety, so they can all leave here together and be done with this. Obi-Wan wants to be done with this.
*
When Ferus had made it to Avedot, he had been shocked to find the situation under control – and not under Imperial control as he’d expected.
When Ferus and Obi-Wan had been looking for Anakin on Coruscant the first time, no more than a handful of rotations ago, Ferus had questioned Dex on the whereabouts of former Jedi Master, Fy-Tor-Ana, now known as Solace. She had made a home for herself in the Orange District with the Besalisk cook and the rest of the Erased for the last couple of months.
Dex hadn’t revealed much, just that the incognito Jedi was on a ‘mission.’ Ferus understood the need for obscurity in these perilous times, so he hadn’t pressed, but apparently, Solace had been on Avedot.
The Erased had gotten intel that the rebellion group that had formed on the nearby world might have unintentionally made themselves an Imperial target. Solace had volunteered to make a trip to monitor the situation more closely. She’d shared the information with Wil, who had dispatched Master Luminara and Bultar Swan. . . And when the ambush had taken place, they had reached out to Ahsoka for assistance. . .
And that was how Wil had known the details of what had taken place on Avedot, and that was how the news of Anakin’s capture had infiltrated their network of allies so swiftly – all those Jedi had already been in contact with one another, some already together in the same place.
Ferus was more than tired of his life of deception, and he did not like to lie, especially not to his friends, but when he’d found himself in the surprised company of the four Force-sensitive ladies, he’d had to fabricate a reason for his presence on Avedot. So, he’d led them to believe that Vader’s insubordination had fueled rumors of Sidious potentially cancelling his address in favor of overseeing the governance on the revolutionary world. . . which meant Anakin might have been accompanying him there rather than to Coruscant.
Ferus was thrilled to see his friends, and he was thankful that Avedot had averted a crisis with their help. Communications had still been jammed in the aftermath of the blockade, but somehow Obi-Wan’s message had gotten through, though Ferus was unable to successfully send a reply.
Just as soon as he’d landed and gotten the update from the Jedi, he was boarding his ship to race back to Coruscant. . . Solace, Luminara, and Bultar in tow. Since they were leaving Ahsoka and her troops to handle cleanup, Ferus gave her the homing beacon as a precaution. When its signal finally did return, they would be able to locate her in case of emergency.
The four Jedi companions had arrived just in time to witness Sabé being dragged onto Sidious’ star destroyer, and Ferus had a hunch Obi-Wan was already aboard it, trying to get Anakin out.
Obi-Wan had been adamant that they would not engage Sidious unless absolutely necessary. As always, he had insisted it was not the proper time for an uprising against the Empire, and that it was best to wait. But after seeing what had transpired on Avedot, Ferus returns to his roots. . . as a founding member of the Eleven. With three additional Jedi present, he feels a surge of confidence, and they feel it as well – the confidence to strike. . . and the instinct to defend and to protect.
But now Ferus is wondering what they’ve gotten themselves into as he watches a trio of Imperial patrol transports easing to the landing platform. . . full of stormtroopers. These were likely battalions that were stationed nearby, and Sidious hadn’t wasted any time in sounding the alarm.
“Go!” Solace shouts, leaping down to take Ferus’ place. Her emerald blade is a blur of motion as she continues to block blaster shots. “Get Anakin! Help your handmaiden friend!”
Ferus hesitates to leave the women, but they had known the mission when they’d signed up for it. He gives a sharp nod and jumps from the top of the cruiser.
*
Sidious is enraged at the sight of the Jedi, but they aren’t any real threat; he leaves them to his men for target practice as he stalks straight to the medbay, stepping over the evidence of what he knew he would undoubtedly find when he made it there – Skywalker had escaped.
The seething Sith alerts his commander that his original prisoner is the only one he wants brought back alive. Now, he furiously migrates to the ships detention block where his guards had taken the queen’s decoy. She had obviously been involved in this plot to spring Skywalker, and he wants answers.
When Vader had disappeared, Sidious had never imagined he’d end up back in the good graces of the Jedi, least of all, Ferus Olin. Vader had killed his mate. Had Olin really not been intelligent enough to piece together whom this wounded, memory-wiped amputee had been?
It was clear the handmaiden hadn’t figured it out either.
Sidious plans to rectify that.
Now.
Though Skywalker has been freed, Sidious knows the Jedi will continue to fight; they would not depart without their female companion. Their foolish compassion would never allow it, giving him time to interrogate his newest capture.
He could easily probe her mind, finding out exactly what he wants to know, but he’d take more pleasure in first knocking the arrogant bitch off her high horse. The woman was nauseatingly self-righteous, just like Amidala, always believing her own narrow-minded view absolute. And she had viewed Skywalker as ‘innocent.’
A smile remains affixed to the Sith’s face as he tells her otherwise. . .
“And did you really not know your precious Jedi had turned dark?” Sidious questions through the bars of the woman’s cage.
“You’re lying,” Sabé grumbles.
“Where do you think he’s been all this time? How do you think your dear queen perished? Well—” Sidious stops short; she won’t live to see nightfall anyway – there will be no one to confess these secrets to. . . not that anyone would have the courage to defy him and take her word over his anyhow. . . “It was I who drained the life from her,” he reveals sinisterly. “I took her final breaths and used them to restore air into the lungs of my protégé. . . and what a waste that turned out to be,” he adds dryly. “Still. Had she lived, she surely would’ve been a problem. ‘Liberty this. Democracy that.’” His smile takes on an even more menacing form. “Skywalker broke her heart beyond repair. . . I finished the job,” he gloats.
What's left of Sabé’s cool demeanor blows through the surface. “Murderer!! You corrupt and vile, despicable, disgraceful man!” Her chained fists grip the cell door and she rattles it with all her might.
Sidious cackles. “Oooo that rage! Very becoming on you, my lady. . . And it is not all for me, I am sure. . . Are we having any regrets in aiding in Anakin’s rescue about now? All the time, he had been lying to you. What a shame. How sad. How pathetic on your part. You so desperately seek to be close to the deceased, you’ll trust anyone who has a tie to her.”
A jumbled transmission comes over Sidious' communication device, “My Lord! ------ -----ack ------ to th----- -------ain!”
“What?” Sidious booms back. When there is no reply, he rolls his eyes and exasperatedly exits, leaving his prisoner locked in her cell in cuffs.
No sooner does Sidious stride from the room, a ventilation panel falls from the ceiling, pinging loudly as it hits the floor.
“Ferus!” Sabé watches him as he lands gracefully on his feet.
Ferus’ lightsaber first slices through the cell door, and then through the restraints around Sabé’s wrists. “Are you all right?” he questions, worriedly taking in the paleness of her face.
She’s not. She’s definitely not all right after what she’s just learned. “I’m fine,” she pushes out. “Have you talked to Obi-Wan?”
“Have you?? I don’t sense Anakin is here, but I don’t sense him either.”
“Then they must’ve made it to safety; they were together last time we talked, not twenty minutes ago. I gave myself up so they could get out. The should be hiding in Senator Organa’s chambers by now.”
Ferus can finally breathe for the first time in days. “Thank god. Thank you,” he tells Sabé in gratitude.
Sabé bobs her head. “You came ready to fight it seems,” she comments as they move towards the sounds of blaster fire. “Where’d you get all the Jedi?” Her questions holds a twinge of humor.
Ferus lets out an uneasy chuckle. “Long story – wasn’t part of the plan.” They turn a corner to a hallway filled with a smokey haze.
“Well, I did come with a plan.” Sabé gestures ahead.
Ferus looks on as an army of petite women dressed in identical white outfits appear through the clouds – weapons in hand. Ferus stares at Sabé wide-eyed. “Does Obi-Wan know about this??”
Sabé shakes her head in the negative. Her emotional brown eyes meet his own. “This ends today,” she tells him critically. “I’m more sure of that now than I was thirty minutes ago. With them,” she motions to her crew, “and your Jedi friends, we have a chance.”
Ferus swallows hard and nods. “I’ll see if the Erased can come up and offer any assistance.” He reaches for his comm device.
“Re-band with the Jedi – eliminate the Sith. My team and I will hold off the troops.” Sabé starts forward.
Ferus grabs her arm. “Be careful.” The words are loaded.
“I will, and I know you will, too.”
Ferus watches Sabé run past her sisters and leap into the arms of tall, dark-haired man, whom he is certain is the Naboo Captain she’d spoken of on more than one occasion – Tonra.
Ferus half smiles. He is desperate for his own heartfelt reunion with the ones he loves, but he can’t pass on this opportunity to challenge Sidious – to take down the Empire once and for all. He sees Tonra and the handmaidens vanish into the smog. Now, he sends an SOS to each member of the Erased. He’ll leave it up to them if they wish to take the risk. If they were to choose to opt out, he’d understand, but somehow, Ferus knows they’ll be all in. This isn’t just about Anakin any longer; it’s about the galaxy as a whole.
Ferus and Obi-Wan had been in agreement that whoever obtained Anakin would make it a priority to keep him out of harm’s way – get him home and wait for the other party to arrive. Ferus doesn’t know if he’ll make it home, but he needs to make sure Anakin and Obi-Wan will.
A quick call to tell them he and Sabé are both safe and to reinforce that they immediately head to Bellassa will do them all well. It will give Ferus the reassurance he needs as he heads into the battle of a lifetime. And it will allow him to hear their voices – tell them how much he loves them, just in case this is goodbye. . . He prays it isn't.
Ferus keys in the frequency, but before he can connect, he hears a crackling voice from behind. . .
“You,” Sidious hisses in disgust.
Ferus’ eyes narrow, and his mouth puckers in a severe frown. His fingers curl around the lightsaber hilt on his belt.
Notes:
GIRRRRL POWER!! (spice up your life lol)
Are we excited for the rebellion of lady Jedi and handmaidens!? (and Tonra 💘) I’m certain the boys from the Erased are coming, too, but still! Girls taking charge! And Ferus 🥲 He’s so brave 😢 He’s remembering why he and Roan started the Eleven 🥺
Tsabin Rayne of Naboo. . . Sabé’s birth name is Tsabin in canon literature, but it appears there is no mention ANYWHERE of her last name. So, I made one up. I literally just let my fingers type whatever they wanted to type, and Rayne is what flowed 🤷🏻♀️
I hope you enjoyed this chapter ❤️🩹 Anakin and Obi-Wan are finally reunited 🥹 with all the secrets out, and with forgiveness on the forefront 🫂
Everything is coming full circle ✨
Thank you for reading 💗
Chapter 37
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“You,” Ferus returns with a level of animosity that matches the Sith’s. He pivots to face him, unlit lightsaber in-hand.
“I must say, I’m surprised to find you here. . . defending Skywalker.” Sidious allows his hostility to settle so he may express the utmost concern. His eyes broaden – softening with worry. “Allow me one final attempt to get through to you; you can hate me – turn your back on everything I wanted to give to you, but I care enough for you to want to protect you from deception. Please hear me when I say this: Skywalker is not who you th—”
“I know very well who Anakin is,” Ferus cuts him off harshly. He scowls, “And you hear me. Don’t waste your breath with those washed up, inconsistent lies and manipulations. All you’ve ever done is buy time; stop being a coward, and face me, man to man – Force-wielder to Force-wielder.”
Sidious grins wickedly as he cackles. “You actually think you can defeat me?”
“I know I can, and I will, because I’m not letting you get anywhere near Anakin again.”
Beneath the hood of his cloak, Sidious’ yellow eyes glow with hatred – a hatred for the love he feels radiating off of Olin. The former Jedi’s thirst for vengeance against Vader was set to drive him to darkness, and now he loved Skywalker? “You will fight for the one that took the life of your beloved husband?”
“I will fight for every life you destroyed, including Roan’s.”
“You will fight for revenge, and you will have it, and your dark fate will be sealed.”
Ferus shakes his head. “No.” The single-word argument rolls of his tongue simply – positively.
“It is unavoidable. You will strike me down, giving in to your hate, and you will find yourself a changed man. You have killed in defense. You have killed for passion, maybe for love, but you have never had a kill like this,” Sidious taunts. “Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. It will be a part of you. The mark of what you’ve done will stay with you. . . Take Anakin for example. . .”
Ferus’ nostrils flare. “Leave him out of this!” he growls.
Sidious tsks. “What in the stars and planets would your dead husband think of your affection for his killer? It is the ultimate betrayal on your part.”
And Ferus has already wasted enough time believing that lie. He’s not buying what Sidious is selling. His words are hollow. The Sith knows nothing of his relationship with Roan, and he knows nothing of his relationship with Anakin; he is grasping – Anakin had gotten free, and Ferus knows this is a desperate attempt to enslave him. But Ferus is done being a slave – to guilt, and to shame.
While Sidious can detect his current self-assurance, he can also pinpoint Olin’s past insecurities. . . He plays on them, “It will always haunt you. You will never live a normal life with him. You may think you love him, but your heart will always hold a sense of hate – it always has. . . from the time you were young boys. Anakin tormented you – forced you out of the Order and into the arms of a man whom you could truly love, all so he could take him from you. Of course you hate him. You can force it from your mind, shove it deep down, but the steam of your covered, boiling rage will seep out and rise to the surface in the end.”
Sidious doesn’t know that the lid had already been blown, and the steam out and evaporated. Obi-Wan had seen him through it, and Obi-Wan was going to see him through this. . .
Ferus had hoped Obi-Wan and Anakin would be on a hyperspace route to Bellassa by now, but he can’t deny the relief he feels at seeing the Jedi Master appear in the hallway behind the Sith. The light has arrived, so there would be no fear of darkness.
Ferus sees the change in Sidious’ face; he senses Obi-Wan’s presence. He smirks at the evil man snidely.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Sidious sings in annoyance, his back still to the Jedi. “I should’ve known you were at the root of this.”
“Yes. You should have,” Obi-Wan replies cocky.
A supreme grimace overtakes Sidious’ face. It had always been Kenobi. He was the reason Skywalker had failed to reach his potential, and not just because he’d been handicapped in their battle on Mustafar, but because that little slut could never be successfully ripped from his Jedi Master’s teet!
Kenobi had foiled his plans for the last time.
A pair of lightsabers hidden in the sleeves of his robes slip into the hands of the Sith. Sidious charges at the elder Jedi, blood red blades igniting in time.
A flash of blue, and a gracefully swift somersault, and Obi-Wan just barely parries the attack.
Ferus races into the fight, rearing his weapon to stab into the spine of the Sith, but Sidious literally turns on him, almost too fast to comprehend, simultaneously blocking strikes from both Jedi.
Ferus hadn’t expected this to be easy, but he also hadn’t expected the disfigured old man to move like a Kowakian monkey-lizard. He tries to keep his focus as the Sith practically splits himself in half, thoroughly engaged in two separate battles at once. If only he had gotten a chance to make contact with Solace and the others; they were going to need another Jedi if they were to overpower Sidious.
Just as soon as Ferus has the thought, the hum of a fifth lightsaber can be heard. Ferus can see it out of the corner of his eye, and his stomach does a flip relative to the acrobatics of the Sith, because the blade is not green. . . but blue.
It’s Anakin.
Ferus doesn’t know the extent of what Anakin has suffered in the last few rotations, but he doesn’t imagine him well enough to battle, and he himself is in no position to perform his routine Anakin-wellness-check while engaged in such intense combat. Ferus continues to fight in the defensive as Anakin jogs forward. . . the jog giving an indication to what he’d feared, because if Anakin were able, Ferus knows he’d not be jogging, but sprinting.
Sidious uses the narrow hallway wall to ricochet up and over Ferus. He tosses one of his weapons into the air, and as it spins overhead, he thrusts his freehand forward and shoots lightning from his fingertips, straight into Ferus’ chest.
Ferus only grunts as Anakin screeches.
Sidious sends a second surge at Anakin, catching his twirling baton, then running down the hall.
Anakin absorbs the string of electricity with his lightsaber, while Obi-Wan grabs Ferus by the arm and hoists him up.
“I’m all right,” Ferus promises winded. “Go! GO! We can’t let him get away!”
Obi-Wan disappears down the hallway.
Anakin now at his side, Ferus musters the endurance to carry on. Wordlessly, the pair manage to walk briskly and hug at the same time.
“Anakin,” Ferus blows out. “Baby, are you—?”
“I’m fine; you were right, we can’t let him escape! We have a chance.”
Ferus pushes out a puff of air and resets. The shock had been brutal, but the duration short, and the effects not lasting. The couple turn the corner and embark upon the Imperial cruiser’s hangar for smaller crafts and local transport vessels. Smoke from the battle outside comes in through the shield gate and leaves a trace of fog in the open area. The twin streaks of red remain vibrant, the blue fainter, but its motions no less persistent.
Anakin and Ferus move to their enemy’s opposite side with the intent to wound, but are immediately blocked by crimson beams. Even with an added opponent, the Sith still does not appear strained, effortlessly fighting off all three Jedi without struggle.
Anakin reflects on his battle with the Inquisitor on Bakura, and knows he is not fighting at his best. And to add to the challenge, Sidious is at least ten times as powerful as that woman had been. But he won’t give up. Together, they can do this. They have to. Anakin had already killed Vader, and now it was his duty to rid the galaxy of the Sith once and for all – to keep his children from growing up under the control of an Empire where hate prevailed. In unison, the trio of pale blue blades shine brighter. They work as one to overpower the darkness.
Sidious knows it is just a matter of minutes before his triumphant win. Here are three emotional men that will all foolishly die for one another, and that will be their undoing. As soon as the first is eliminated, the other two are as good as dead.
A change in strategy is due; Sidious had been making this harder on himself than necessary – a way to give false hope, but he was becoming bored. So, rather than aim for a killing blow, Sidious will instead aim to injure. . . And victory would be sweeter in having the injured party powerlessly watch his companions perish. He would knock them off one at a time, making sure to save Skywalker for last. . .
A fakeout for the gut, and an attempt to deflect, distracts from his true target. Sidious plunges his plasma sword into the ball joint of Kenobi’s right shoulder.
Obi-Wan yelps as his weapon extinguishes and plummets from his grasp. He frets as Sidious immediately and purposefully carries the fight away from him. Searing pain, Obi-Wan lets his right arm hang limp as he calls his lightsaber to his left. He’d never had an issue fighting left-handed; he’d often switched back and forth, but as he tries to re-engage in battle, it becomes apparent that the intensity of the wound is too great, his impaired body resisting his willingness to stand on two feet. He stumbles, and comes down on both knees, fighting against gravity to become parallel with the floor.
He watches in helpless horror as Anakin and Ferus are left to fight on their own, never giving up on getting his lifeless legs moving again.
Ferus tries to keep a level head. The hit wasn’t fatal, and Obi-Wan will survive. Ferus just needs to make sure he and Anakin survive as well. He glances at the grand hangar door. Light smoke still billows in, and unrelenting blaster fire can still be heard. There had been at least three dozen stormtroopers in the dispatched patrol transports. . . Where he had felt optimistic before, Ferus now feels foolish for having dragged everyone into this. He prays the other Jedi are safe. He prays Sabé and the handmaidens are safe. He draws in a breath and reaches for Anakin in the Force.
Not running to his Master’s aid had been an obstacle for Anakin. He tries not to panic, and instead attempts to anticipate Sidious’ next move; he’d seen the deception involved in his triumph over Obi-Wan.
These days, Anakin considers himself out-of-practice when it comes to fully accessing the Force, and he almost feels skittish to do so, but it had served him well in that fight on Bakura, and he believes it could help him now. When he bursts open the cracked door to his connection to the mystical energy field, he first feels Obi-Wan. He feels his pain, and he feels his worry. He absorbs those negative feelings, and creates and transmits positive ones back – comfort, and reassurance. He manifests calm and healing. Now, Anakin sifts through the dark matter of the Sith and reaches for Ferus, instantly feeling a wave of hope and strength wash over him.
The sweat on his brow seems to dry up, and his mechanical limbs seem to recharge to curb the fatigue. And somehow Anakin finds himself fighting in the offensive, something that none of them had been able to accomplish during this battle thus far, rather only blocking Sidious’ ferocious strikes.
Preparing for a blow to his arm, Anakin slashes at Sidious’ feet, but the Sith hadn’t missed a beat. There was no way Anakin could have anticipated the dark lord launching more than a meter above he and Ferus and spinning like an out-of-control starfigther.
A whirlwind forms around the Sith, shielding him from view. Initially, a red glow illuminates the manmade twister, but is quickly replaced by violet bolts of lightning. Anakin could swear he hears thunder.
He and Ferus look at each other in apprehension, trying to brace themselves for what might occur next.
The funnel dissipates, and Sidious reappears, landing hard on his feet with electrically-charged hands set to stun Anakin.
Acting quickly, Anakin deflects the danger, pushing hard against the threat of shock with his lightsaber.
With his back exposed, hands occupied, Ferus makes a second attempt to pierce the Sith’s spine.
But just as before, Sidious easily divides his attention, withdrawing a high-voltage hand and redirecting it at Ferus.
Ferus jerks his lightsaber to absorb the energy, but he is not fast enough.
With the additional static absorbed from Anakin’s blade, Sidious’ lightning strike is now much more powerful, sending Ferus soaring into the air, his limp body violently jerking, the purple light highlighting the veins beneath his flesh.
Anakin gasps, but holds his position. If he tries to move, his fate will be the same as Ferus.’
Finally, Sidious relents, halting his attack on both ends. Ferus is free from the shock, but lifelessly slams to the ground, his broken body smoldering and unmoving on the far side of the hangar.
“Noooooo!!” Anakin lets out a rage-filled and frustrated cry.
Sidious laughs. “There it is – there you are. . . Lord Vader.”
Distraught and exhausted, but no less determined, Anakin lunges at him. Sidious does not even draw his weapon, but simply leaps out of harm’s way.
Anakin lurches forward again, only to be humiliated to slash at nothing once more.
Way on the other end of the room, Obi-Wan is finally up on unsteady feet, wrestling against his uncooperative body to move more quickly. He hears Sidious’ taunts as he struggles to get to Anakin.
“Kill me,” Sidious enticingly submits. “Kill me and take the throne. Ruuule the galaxy,” his voice rattles jubilantly. “Take the power you have always craved! It can all be yours!” The man spreads his arms wide in invitation.
Obi-Wan knows this is a trap, and no matter which choice Anakin makes, he is set up for failure. The Sith knows that if Anakin were to take him up on his offer, then the door to bloodlust would be open. It is the first step of an inescapable spiral. And even if he were dead, Sidious would be pleased to gain victory by sealing Anakin to a darker fate. But despite everything Anakin had just been through, Obi-Wan knows he hesitates to take his life – he can see it in his slumped shoulders; Anakin’s guard is down – leaving him open to physical vulnerability.
“It is your destiny!” Sidious hollers furiously. “You were chosen for this! Strike me down!!”
Ferus’ eyes are open. He’s managed to get up on his elbows, but not able to advance further. He begins sliding on his belly towards Anakin, who stands idle with his weapon lowered. Ferus can see the torment on his face – confused and afraid of himself more than their enemy. It is a classic case of mistrust placed in an abuser; not realizing the true danger, Sidious was liable to slash Anakin in two. . . and it could happen in the blink of an eye.
“Strike me down with all your hate! Ascend to power and bring balance!!”
“Anakin!” In slow motion, Obi-Wan limps to him, stumbling over his own feet.
“Anakin!” Ferus digs his forearms into the floor, pushing with all his might to rise.
“DO IT!” Sidious cackles. “DO IT NOW!!”
The echoing ping of a single blaster bolt stills and silences them all.
Sidious crumples to the ground. . . a fatal wound to the head.
In triangle formation, Obi-Wan and Ferus both gawk at the shooter. She stands at the exterior hangar entrance, weapon still pointed at her obliterated target.
When Sabé sees Obi-Wan reach Anakin and take him in his arms, she moves to assist Ferus.
With help, Ferus is able to sit upright, but not stand. Still stunned, he meets Sabé’s steadfast gaze.
“He killed Padmé,” Sabé reveals straightforward.
Ferus hadn’t needed an explanation, but at the anguish he sees in Sabé’s eyes, he understands why she’d needed to say it aloud.
“FERUS!”
Ferus observes Anakin fast-approaching, and before he can make another attempt to rise, Anakin is on the ground with him, weeping loudly with arms clutched around his neck. “Baby,” Ferus coos, and squeezes him back. “Oh, thank god you’re okay.” He nuzzles Anakin’s cheek as a grounding hand clasps his shoulder.
“I’m afraid if I go down there, I won’t be able to get back up,” Obi-Wan informs half-humorously, pale-faced and gritting his teeth through the ache in his arm.
Ferus’ mouth turns down in a pout as he covers Obi-Wan’s hand with his own. “Are you okay?”
“You all need medical attention,” Tonra answers for him, appearing out of nowhere as he lifts Ferus at the waist.
*
Sabé had grown increasingly concerned as the battle on the landing platform had raged on. The Jedi wouldn’t know that Anakin had already made it to safety, and that Ferus had planned to engage Sidious – with their help.
And if they did not have this information, then that could only mean that Ferus had run into trouble before he was able to contact them.
In the midst of the war against the Stormtroopers, Sabé had debated fleeing to find Ferus; she was near to the ship where she had last left him – nearer to it than the Jedi were.
But the two rebellion teams were well-matched, and they could not afford to lose a man – or woman in this care, Tonra being the only man. . . until four others had arrived.
Sabé assumed the masked human, Besalisk, Bothan, and Svivreni were the friends Ferus had planned to recruit for help – the Erased. . . So, he had made that call.
As she’d begun to assess whether or not the additional help would allow them to spare her, more allies had arrived.
An interestingly-painted Clone Wars era LAAT/i had swarmed overhead. Troops marked in blue and orange rappelled down with grappling hooks, right into the fight, guns blazing. Among them was a Togruta Sabé recognized.
Unhurriedly, Ahsoka had first showcased her pair of bright white blades in the elegant stance of a ballerina, only to fiercely begin slaying her targets at the speed of light.
It had been easy to make the judgement call then, and Sabé had raced onto Sidious’ ship.
*
The Senate had still been in session when the battle had broken out. Bail Organa had been trying to make his own address, but kept losing his voice as he’d take in the frightening, familiar sounds coming from outside.
Worried chatter had erupted throughout the chamber, essentially halting the session, but Bail didn’t know if it were best to officially adjourn. Taking into consideration whatever was happening beyond the walls of the Rotunda, he surmised the politicians would be safest to stay put.
The poised Senator had turned to look to his most trusted colleague for guidance on the matter, but the Chandrilan leader was no longer in the pod beside him.
No sooner had Bail realized that Mon Montha had taken it upon herself to exit, she had re-entered the chamber with a loud, commanding voice, proclaiming that the Jedi had returned, and if anyone present wished to restore the Republic they all mourned, then now was the time to fight.
Nearly all of the attendees had leapt to their feet.
In these times, resisters of the Empire typically kept armed, never knowing when their true allegiance might be discovered. And amongst today’s crowed were many resisters.
A new kind of opposition had abruptly taken shape, and dozens of fearless and faithful politicians had flooded out of the chamber ready to fight for what they believed right – to fight for their freedom.
Bail Organa clutched his own blaster and joined them.
*
When Sabé had contacted Saché to inform of the demise of their Emperor, Saché had joyfully returned that the Imperials on deck had all surrendered. The details following were somewhat garbled; Saché had seemed to have a much to say on the subject, but was not coming in clear.
Sabé, Tonra, Ferus, Anakin, and Obi-Wan move through the empty ship as fast as they are able, holding onto one another, and literally holding each other up.
When they finally descend down the ramp to the former battlefield, applause breaks out.
Obi-Wan looks at the unexpected audience in awe.
The handmaidens flock to them, three of them moving straight for Anakin and swaddling him a huge, group hug.
Solace, Luminara, and Bultar release Tonra of his duty and support Ferus’ weight.
Politicians continue clapping, along with other ordinary inhabitants of Coruscant who had stumbled upon this history-making uprising.
When Obi-Wan sees Captain Rex, he registers just how many clones are present, their attendance not seeming odd at first, his brain having to catch up to current time.
“AHSOKA!”
Obi-Wan hears Anakin shout and watches the former apprentice and her Master share a heartfelt embrace. Cheering unwavering, Obi-Wan looks back at Ferus, who beams, full of pride, but not of his own device.
Dumbfounded, and holding his throbbing arm in place, Obi-Wan realizes he is becoming enclosed in a circle - lovers, friends, senators, citizens, and the like, along its circumference.
And as Bail joins him in the center, the two men who had felt the last standing at the death of the Republic, stand together now for its rebirth.
They embrace.
And the roars of the thankful crowd shake the platform on which they stand.
*
There is now much work to be done in the heart of the galaxy’s core world. Headlines are being made as unbiased and unfiltered word spreads of what has taken place at what was supposed to be an ordinary political hearing.
The end of inhumane Imperial rule has united the planets in a way that they hadn’t been in many millennia.
And while there is no Council Chamber for Obi-Wan Kenobi to report to in this crucial time, he doesn’t feel good about sitting idle in a medcenter, especially without Anakin and Ferus by his side; they had all been urgently taken into separate treatment spaces, nearby, but not in each other’s sights.
But Obi-Wan does have a visitor. . . Sabé.
“How’s the shoulder?” she asks as she enters.
Obi-Wan kisses her cheek as she gives him a one-sided greeting hug to avoid the injury. “I’ll live.”
“You always do,” Sabé remarks slyly.
Obi-Wan smiles. “Have you seen Anakin? Ferus?”
“They’re about to release Ferus. We both know he’ll go straight to Anakin. . . I hadn’t been in to see him myself. . .”
Obi-Wan reads the hesitancy on her face, detects the uncertainty in her voice – neither in line with the swiftly decisive and confident woman he knows.
“I. . . It’s not that I don’t want to see him. . .”
Obi-Wan studies her troubled brown eyes. “What’s the matter, my dear?”
Sabé blows out a breath. “I know that Sidious was a liar and a manipulator, but he said some things to me that make too much sense to be false.”
Obi-Wan feels his stomach knot.
“First. I don’t know if you were aware, but he confessed to killing Padmé.”
“No,” Obi-Wan protests confused. “I was wit—”
“Yes,” Sabé interrupts. “He told me he robbed her of her lifeforce to revive Anakin. . . Vader.”
Obi-Wan’s mouth hangs open. The med droid on Polis Massa had been unable to explain Padmé’s cause of death; they hadn’t been able to save her, because they hadn’t known what was wrong. How had Sidious even achieved such unnatural workings of the Force? So, perhaps Anakin had died on Mustafar. There is so much Obi-Wan wants to blurt, but upon registering Sabé’s final word, all that comes out of his mouth is, “Vader?” He winces.
Sabé looks solemn. “I’m feeling. . . I’m still processing all of this. I’m not mad at Anakin. This changes things, but then again, it doesn’t. I know he doesn’t remember, and I know he feels badly for everything that’s happened. I still want him in my life, but now it feels as if there’s this big hurdle we'll have to cross. I want him to know that I know, but I’m not sure I want to have that conversation. . .”
“I’ll tell him,” Obi-Wan nods in understanding. “I’ll tell him, so you don’t have to. Believe me, I understand how hard it is.” He takes her hand. “Thank you,” he tells Sabé in gratitude. “For everything. Thank you for taking him in, taking care of him. Thank you for joining us to fight for him. Thank you for saving him. But above all, thank you for still seeing him for who he is. He cares for you – deeply, and I know he’d be accepting, but devastated if you were to have a change of heart.”
“He’ll always be my friend,” Sabé assures. “And I want us to all stay in contact. . . which will fortunately be much easier now,” she smiles and lets out a sigh of relief.
“We are forever in your debt.” Obi-Wan squeezes her hand. . . just as Ferus and Anakin enter the room.
Obi-Wan watches Anakin and Sabé embrace tenderly – genuinely. She clutches his arm warmly, then excuses herself. . . and now Anakin’s head is nestled beneath his chin.
Obi-Wan wraps his good arm around him. “Sweetheart. Are you all right? What did the doctor say?” He feels Ferus tousling his hair.
“He’s okay,” Ferus promises. “I spoke with the doctor myself. His scans all came back normal.”
“Thank goodness.” Obi-Wan kisses Anakin’s hair as he massages his shoulders. “And you’re back on your feet it seems.” He arcs his neck, and Ferus pecks his lips.
“Yep. Few bruises, but I’m good.”
Obi-Wan looks skeptical. “That was quite a fall.” His face is painted with concern.
“It feels pretty miraculous that nothing was broken, but the doctor said being unconscious when I hit probably worked in my favor. What about you?” Ferus eyes the bulky, bandaged shoulder.
“It’s a nasty wound,” Obi-Wan admits, as he continues to stroke Anakin's back. “They say I almost lost the arm. It’ll heal. . . but with aid,” he adds, rolling his eyes. “I’ll have to keep it wrapped up for some time, which will hinder functionality more than a little bit.”
“We’ll help you,” Ferus vows sweetly. “And Sabé says Bail has already arranged for all of us to stay here for a while. . . The Ritz-Coruscant.” He sees Obi-Wan raise his brows, impressed, and Ferus chuckles. “Yep. High class. We’ll get you room service, and you can relax.” He presses his lips to Obi-Wan’s forehead. “Your only priority will be some leisurely visiting. . . possibly with the Organa’s. . .” The words come out intently. On the walk over, Anakin had hastily unloaded that he’d learned of his two children, fretful to know where they were. But Ferus would never rob Obi-Wan of the joy of being the one to tell him. . .
Obi-Wan’s lips curl, and his eyes communicate their accord.
Anakin’s head remains buried in Obi-Wan’s chest. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t spoken. And Obi-Wan knows his boy well enough to know that he’d been withholding his inquires about Luke and Leia because of his concern over his injury. He cards through Anakin’s wavy locks. “Anakin?” he prompts gently.
Anakin obediently lifts his head to meet his Master’s gaze.
Tears brim behind Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Anakin,” he says again, a palm cupping his Padawan’s jaw. “Would you like to meet your daughter?”
And then Anakin learns he had already met his son.
Even past discharge, the trio remain smooshed together on the small patient bed as Obi-Wan unveils it all – that he had been there when the twins were born, when their mother had given them their names. And as Obi-Wan recounts Padmé’s final moments, when she’d spoken of Anakin’s goodness, and that she hadn’t given up hope, all become emotional.
With what Anakin had learned from Padmé, and with what Sabé had learned from Sidious, the fragments of knowledge of what had transpired in those critical last days can finally be seen as a whole, painted picture.
All the time Obi-Wan had spent in grief-stricken isolation wondering where he had gone wrong, and what had changed for Anakin so abruptly; he now knows that Anakin had trusted Palpatine out of the sudden desperation to save his wife and children.
And Anakin now knows that though he had made many mistakes, he hadn’t been the one to take Padmé’s life.
It is the time for new beginnings – the time to move forward, and to look ahead. It is time to truly bury, but honor the dead, as the next generation is raised. . . in a new Republic, with the potential for the ascension of a new Jedi Order. There is peace throughout the galaxy, but it cannot compare to the peace each of the three men have at last found within themselves.
By evening, Clive, Astri, Trever, and Lune have arrived on-world. Dona is there, as well as Wil and Amie.
As the good news continues to circulate, there is hope that more exiled Jedi will return. Garen and Ry-Gual having already touched down. . . Master Yoda said to be on the way.
Also on the way – the Lars family. And Anakin cannot wait for the moment to have both his son and his daughter together with him in the same place. He cannot wait to see the siblings reunited. Anakin also hopes to contact Padmé’s parents, so they can meet the grandchildren they hadn’t known existed.
But first, it is time for the one who had known of their existence to learn of their survival.
Anakin is nervous as Ferus walks him to Sabé and Tonra’s own suite at the Ritz-Coruscant.
Obi-Wan had explained that Sabé had learned about Vader, but that like his lovers, she did not condemn him for a past he could not remember, and Anakin is grateful.
It is after twenty-one hundred now, everyone winding down after an extremely eventful day. But Anakin couldn’t rest without first having a moment with his friend – his rescuer. . . his family. . . because Sabé had been Padmé’s family.
Ferus lightly taps the door.
“You said she knows I’m coming, right?” Anakin checks one final time, fidgeting with the fibers on a soft, cream-colored blanket clenched in his hold.
Ferus kisses his cheek. “She knows.”
Tonra appears in the doorway. “Hello, friends.”
Ferus smiles in greeting, giving Anakin’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze.
“Sabé is right inside.” Tonra gestures. “Olin, care to join me for a drink downstairs?”
In truth, Ferus had planned to crawl in bed with Obi-Wan, but this would give Anakin and Sabé the private time they needed. Tonra hadn’t specified what kind of drink; there were sure to be non-alcoholic selections. “Sure,” he obliges. “Call me if you need me.” Ferus presses his lips to Anakin’s cheek once more.
Anakin nods and moves into the hotel room.
“Hi.” Sabé is right there in the foyer waiting.
“Hi.”
Sabé sees the trembling lip and doesn’t hesitate to pull Anakin in her arms. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothes as he sniffles.
“I know you didn’t want to know,” Anakin blubbers from over her shoulder. “You said you didn’t need to know. I’m sorry,” he chokes out.
“My forgiveness remains, unchanged,” Sabé promises. She hears Anakin still crying softly. “Here, let’s sit down.” The pair move to the luxurious bantha leather couch a few feet away. “What do you have there?” Sabé asks kindly, noting the blanket Anakin has brought with him. “I didn’t suspect you’d need a place to stay tonight,” she jokes.
Anakin lets out stuffy laughter. “No. . . No, I don’t, thank you.” He longingly moves his synth flesh hand over the folded fabric in his lap. “This is. . . I don’t really know where to begin, but. . . Padmé gave this to me. . . just recently, actually.”
“Recently?”
Anakin stares into Sabé’s intense gaze. “This is going to sound impossible; if I didn’t have this in my own two hands right now, I don’t know that I’d believe it myself.”
Sabé stares, holding her breath.
“I. . . I saw Padmé,” Anakin states. “I talked to her – she came to me when I was at my lowest on Sidious’ ship.”
Sabé’s eyes widen. “You saw her? Her spirit?”
“She’s an angel, Sabé. She came to me as an angel.”
Unwanted tears spring to Sabé’s eyes.
“I was ready to give up,” Anakin confesses. “I haven’t even told Obi-Wan and Ferus this, but I. . .” He stops to sob. “I had found a way to end it, and I was going to do it; I thought it would be best for everyone that way.”
“Oh, Anakin,” Sabé murmurs, placing a hand to his knee.
“I was about to go through with it, and she saved me. She was really there. She talked to me. She touched me. She hugged me. She told me I had to keep going, that it wasn’t my time, and there were people here who needed me. She told me she forgives me,” Anakin bawls.
Sabé feels chills, knowing how badly Anakin needed Padmé’s forgiveness above all others.
“I told her I’ve always loved her, and she said she’s always loved me, too,” Anakin continues shaky. “And she said our love lives on through our children.” Anakin watches as Sabé’s tough exterior cracks and crumbles. She breaks down; her small hand covers her mouth, muffling her loud cries.
Anakin believes this confirms what he had suspected – that Sabé had known Padmé was pregnant. But she wouldn’t have known Luke and Leia had been born. “They’re alive,” Anakin tells her as he moves to physically comfort her. “They’re alive, and I’ve met them both.”
Sabé is bawling and shaking her head.
Anakin wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Our son’s name is Luke, and he lives with my step-brother on Tatooine. And our daughter,” Anakin blubbers. “Ferus said you’ve already met our daughter.”
Sabé gasps as she realizes. . . That brown-eyed, dark-haired, defiant little princess that had made Ferus jump through hoops for her affection. . . A guarded heart that once exposed, was found to contain the most captivating and powerful love. Sabé knew from experience.
Anakin smiles through a flood of tears and nods, because he knows Sabé has made the connection. “I just met her for the first time a few hours ago, and I got to hold her and rock her to sleep. She smiled at me,” Anakin struggles. “She’s so beautiful.”
The two share a fierce embrace as they weep in each other’s arms.
“Luke is coming,” Anakin alerts sniffly. “They’re coming here, so you can meet him, too, and he and Leia can be together for the first time since they were born.”
“Wh—where were they born? How??” Sabé finally finds the voice she had momentarily lost. She wipes at her face, trying to gain composure.
“Obi-Wan was there when they were born – on Polis Massa. He said Padmé named them herself, just before she. . .” Anakin falters, his lip quivering again.
“She was sure it was going to be a boy,” Sabé reveals congested. She somehow smiles at the once painful memory. “Since she had first known she was pregnant – Luke; she had already named him. She was so sure she was having a little Luke. . . and so, she did. . . but she had a little girl, too,” she summarizes in hushed disbelief.
Anakin unfolds the corner of the blanket in his lap. “Look,” he whispers.
Sabé leans forward to see the name of Padmé’s son stitched on the corner of the blanket in orange embroidery thread. She watches as Anakin flips the priceless treasure to show an opposite edge housing, ‘Leia,’ in purple. Sabé takes the cloud-like blanket Anakin offers her. “She gave this to you??” she questions in shock, though Anakin had already told her that was the case.
Anakin nods. “I was so cold, shivering cold, and she wrapped me in this blanket just before we said our goodbyes. I hadn’t noticed the names until a little while ago. Now, without a doubt, I know she was there, and she left this for our children.”
Sabé shakes her head, letting out an ironic, breathless laugh. She further examines the blanket as she fully opens the length of it and spreads it over both of their laps. “This is meant to be cut in two,” she explains confident, but still aghast. “They’ll each need a finishing stitch, but I can do it.”
Anakin’s mouth drops open. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “So, even when they’re not together, they can still each have a piece of their mom,” he marvels.
It’s just like Padmé – to shield the ones she loves, and to do so, so resourcefully. . . and to allow her a part in this incredible phenomenon. . . “I’ll have them separate and ready before Luke arrives,” Sabé proudly proclaims, thrilled to be of service to the Amidala children as she’d always envisioned herself to be.
Notes:
The Ritz-Coruscant 🤭 I usually don't do this; I usually try to incorporate Legends, Canon, or EU places and planets, but I couldn't find reference for any Coruscant hotels! And I wanted it to be unmistakably fancy 😉
Palps is gone! Buh-bye, ya jerk! Were you surprised by who finished the job? I hope you are pleased 😊
Anakin knows EVERYTHING now 🥲 and the three-way healing has already begun ❤️🩹
More to come. Thanks for reading 🩵🩵🩵
Pages Navigation
MaiasPen on Chapter 1 Wed 03 Jul 2024 06:04AM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 1 Wed 03 Jul 2024 04:26PM UTC
Comment Actions
Wibzen on Chapter 1 Wed 03 Jul 2024 01:30PM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 1 Wed 03 Jul 2024 05:11PM UTC
Comment Actions
Wibzen on Chapter 1 Sun 07 Jul 2024 07:20AM UTC
Comment Actions
nicky_t on Chapter 1 Wed 03 Jul 2024 02:09PM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 1 Wed 03 Jul 2024 05:07PM UTC
Comment Actions
nicky_t on Chapter 1 Wed 03 Jul 2024 06:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
palfriendpatine66 on Chapter 1 Wed 10 Jul 2024 02:03AM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 1 Wed 10 Jul 2024 02:48AM UTC
Comment Actions
Starwalkertales on Chapter 1 Sun 11 Aug 2024 07:40PM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 1 Sun 11 Aug 2024 09:42PM UTC
Comment Actions
WhiteRequiem on Chapter 1 Wed 12 Feb 2025 12:25AM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 1 Wed 12 Feb 2025 01:18AM UTC
Comment Actions
WhiteRequiem on Chapter 1 Wed 12 Feb 2025 01:30AM UTC
Last Edited Wed 12 Feb 2025 01:31AM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 1 Wed 12 Feb 2025 02:02AM UTC
Comment Actions
MaiasPen on Chapter 2 Wed 03 Jul 2024 06:17AM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 2 Wed 03 Jul 2024 04:41PM UTC
Comment Actions
Wibzen on Chapter 2 Wed 03 Jul 2024 01:59PM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 2 Wed 03 Jul 2024 05:15PM UTC
Comment Actions
Starwalkertales on Chapter 2 Sun 11 Aug 2024 08:04PM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 2 Sun 11 Aug 2024 09:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
MaiasPen on Chapter 3 Wed 03 Jul 2024 06:29AM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 3 Wed 03 Jul 2024 04:56PM UTC
Comment Actions
Kr_114514 on Chapter 3 Wed 03 Jul 2024 09:06AM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 3 Wed 03 Jul 2024 05:01PM UTC
Comment Actions
Wibzen on Chapter 3 Wed 03 Jul 2024 02:19PM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 3 Wed 03 Jul 2024 05:18PM UTC
Comment Actions
Wibzen on Chapter 3 Sun 07 Jul 2024 07:26AM UTC
Comment Actions
nicky_t on Chapter 3 Wed 03 Jul 2024 05:51PM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 3 Fri 05 Jul 2024 04:06PM UTC
Comment Actions
Starwalkertales on Chapter 3 Sun 11 Aug 2024 08:17PM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 3 Sun 11 Aug 2024 09:48PM UTC
Comment Actions
I like big books (Guest) on Chapter 3 Sun 08 Sep 2024 03:15PM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 3 Sun 08 Sep 2024 06:47PM UTC
Comment Actions
WhiteRequiem on Chapter 3 Wed 12 Feb 2025 02:38PM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 3 Wed 12 Feb 2025 04:43PM UTC
Comment Actions
WhiteRequiem on Chapter 3 Wed 12 Feb 2025 04:51PM UTC
Comment Actions
palfriendpatine66 on Chapter 4 Wed 10 Jul 2024 02:35AM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 4 Wed 10 Jul 2024 02:54AM UTC
Comment Actions
Kr_114514 on Chapter 4 Wed 10 Jul 2024 05:33AM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 4 Wed 10 Jul 2024 01:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
Kr_114514 on Chapter 4 Wed 10 Jul 2024 05:44AM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 4 Wed 10 Jul 2024 01:47PM UTC
Comment Actions
Wibzen on Chapter 4 Wed 10 Jul 2024 08:47PM UTC
Comment Actions
BarmaDumet on Chapter 4 Thu 11 Jul 2024 01:22PM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation