Prevalence of Light by Glacis. Rated
NC-17, adults only! Spoilers for Revenge of the Sith. No infringement intended. This is my happy ending.
He didn’t like to believe it of Padme, but Anakin
couldn’t help the suspicions that rose up.
Obi-Wan going behind his back like that, coming over
when he wasn’t there under the pretense of worrying about Anakin, then Padme so
conveniently insisting that Obi-Wan could help him. Them.
Them.
Was there still a ‘them’ to help? Anakin was beginning to wonder, and those
doubts, on top of all the other uncertainty in his life, were driving him
slowly mad.
He had to do something about it. Had to lay at least
one doubt to rest. He could do nothing
about the Council’s suspicions of him, or the Chancellor’s expectations, or
Padme’s fears, but he could watch Obi-Wan and see if his Master was trying to
take away his wife.
Without a word to anyone, Anakin went down to the
armory and took out a tiny portable holovid
projector. He then spent several hours
tinkering with it, much in the way he used to lose himself in machines as a
child. By the time he was finished, he
had an impossible-to-see, Force-shielded, personally-locked spy-corder of his very own.
That very afternoon, he set it after Obi-Wan.
Anakin picked his time carefully. He would be away performing political
face-time duties for the Chancellor; Padme would be home (supposedly alone);
Obi-Wan had no pressing engagements after the last of the debriefings. If ever she would cheat on him, if every THEY
would cheat on him, this would be the perfect opportunity.
Late that night, long after his duties were
complete and Padme slept peacefully beside him, Anakin quietly pressed a Force
suggestion into her head to stay deeply asleep.
He then removed himself to the meditation room on the garden level. Locking the doors and centering himself to be
prepared for betrayal, he called the spy-corder to
him and commanded it to report.
It wasn’t exactly what he expected.
The image flickered a few times then settled into a
clear view. The spy-corder
worked perfectly, pacing Obi-Wan as he moved, the man
blind to the spy.
Obi-Wan walked a measured path down the corridor of
the
For an instant, rage swept through Anakin, that
they should desecrate the
Then Obi-Wan entered a door Anakin had never seen
and it Force-locked behind him. The spy-corder barely made it in the room before the door slammed
shut. Anakin’s eyes widened as Master
Mace Windu, of all people, came forward out of the shadows of the room.
Swept Obi-Wan into an embrace uncannily similar to the one Anakin had taken
Padme into the day before, and kissed Obi-Wan soundly on the mouth.
Anakin sputtered.
What was this?
Where was Padme?
Then the surrealism of seeing his calm, centered,
cool and grounded Master grinning like an idiot as Mace Windu began to strip
him of his clothing knocked Anakin the rest of the way off balance, and he
could do nothing but watch.
Shocked.
Enthralled.
Confused.
And, the emotion rising up from
the depths of his soul, almost unbearably relieved.
Obi-Wan gave himself up into Mace’s eager hands,
laughing gently as much at his own impatience as at Mace’s.
“I didn’t think you were ever going to get back
here, Obi-Wan,” Mace grumbled, flicking belt and robe and sash to the corner
with a wave of his hand and setting to work on Obi-Wan’s trouser fastenings.
“Hang on,” Obi-Wan laughed, catching Mace’s
shoulder for balance before he landed flat on his back. It was a little too early for that just
yet. “Let me get out of my boots or I’ll
be tangled up in a knot and you’ll never get me unwrapped.”
“Watch me,” Mace challenged him. With another wave of his hand, the buckles on
Obi-Wan’s boots flew open and the leather tugged his feet right out from under
him.
With a yelp disguised as a chuckle, Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Mace’s neck
and hung on. The height difference was
enough to give him purchase as his boots peeled away. Mace then stripped him of his trousers the
old-fashioned way – with his hands.
Taking time to stroke and sooth every inch of skin
he found as he uncovered it.
By the time Obi-Wan half-stood, half-clung to
Mace’s solid frame, dressed in nothing but the unfastened tunic hanging from
his shoulders, laughter was a distant memory, consumed by rising passion.
It was always like this; had always been like this,
from the moment Mace had first come to Obi-Wan, newly-knighted, grieving for
Qui-Gon and overwhelmed with the responsibility of Anakin. Mace had moved slowly in the course of his
courtship, but his support and caring had never wavered. Over time it had deepened to the steady fire
they both felt.
When Obi-Wan finally, truly realized that Qui-Gon
was dead, and he would never be able to act on the love he’d felt for his
Master, new feelings for Mace had taken root, and softened the blow of that
loss. It had been a difficult
transition, that final step into adulthood, dealing with a new life, with a
Padawan of his own.
Mace made it bearable, then enjoyable, until he was
indispensable to Obi-Wan’s well-being.
They were often separated by the war and by their duties as Jedi, but
the love they felt for one another gave them hope, and strength, and a refuge
from the horror of years of warfare.
Obi-Wan was quite sure
Mace was what kept him sane, during the darkest times.
But this wasn’t a time for remembering; this was a
time for taking comfort from one another.
Obi-Wan shrugged off the last piece of clothing between his skin and
Mace’s hands, and gave Mace a reproachful look.
“You are overdressed for the occasion, you know,”
he chided.
Mace grinned down at him. “Are you going to do anything about that?”
“Ah, just what I like… a challenge!” With that, Obi-Wan swiftly turned his hold on
Mace from supporting himself to pressing swiftly at Mace’s ankle, knee and
hip. A moment of Force-manipulation
later, they were across the room and Mace lay beneath him on the bed, laughing
up at Obi-Wan’s triumphant grin.
Mace’s laughter died, as well, as Obi-Wan worked
his way steadily through the fastenings on his robes and tunic and trousers and
belt and boots, not stopping for anything.
Mace’s skin was soft beneath his tongue as Obi-Wan sated himself with
everything he’d missed in the last several months. A trace of salt and sandalwood, a taste and
scent unique to Mace, filled Obi-Wan’s head, making him a little dizzy,
interfering with his concentration as he finished the job, but eventually he
did, and Mace lay beneath him in all his naked glory.
“Glorious,” Obi-Wan breathed, thought father to
word, and Mace laughed again, softly this time, understanding and answering
need in his deep brown eyes. Large hands
came up to cup Obi-Wan’s face and they kissed again, a slow, leisurely exploration
of lips and teeth and tongue.
Obi-Wan gave up even trying to think, then, as Mace
dragged his hands down Obi-Wan’s jaw line down his neck and over his shoulders,
around and down his back to curve around his flanks, pulling him in close until
they both groaned from the contact.
“So sweet,” Mace rumbled, his words muffled in the
skin at the base of Obi-Wan’s throat, and the sensation made Obi-Wan shudder.
In response, Mace held him even closer, and began
to rock up against him. Obi-Wan called
on every ounce of self-restraint he’d ever had and managed to croak, “Wait.”
It took a moment for the request to penetrate the
fog of passion enveloping Mace’s mind, but he did eventually stop. He pulled his face back from Obi-Wan’s neck
and asked, simply, “Why?”
“I want…”
Everything, Obi-Wan thought, but didn’t know how to say it. He didn’t want this to be fast, no matter how
urgent his – their – need had become. He
wanted to feel it, wanted to stretch it out as long as he could, wanted to have
Mace touch him so deeply he’d feel the echo of that touch for weeks, in the
long lonely times when they had to be apart.
Giving up on verbal articulation, Obi-Wan settled
for showing rather than telling. He
pushed Mace down until he was flat on the bed.
He then began to kiss a slow trail from Mace’s chest, directly over his
heart, along the smooth skin of his abdomen, skirting the erection rising to
meet his advance to tease along the warm skin beneath. Mace gave a strangled moan that sounded
something like a plea, and Obi-Wan grinned into the soft hot line where Mace’s
thigh met his pelvis before dropping a quick, sharp nip there.
Mace roared as he sat straight up, his hands
burying themselves in Obi-Wan’s hair.
Before he could pull Obi-Wan completely off him, Obi-Wan dipped his head
and licked across the top of Mace’s erection.
Mace melted back down onto the bed as if his bones
had disappeared. Obi-Wan snickered.
“Brat,” Mace scolded. The scolding would have been more effective
if it were less affectionate.
Obi-Wan simply nodded agreement, then lowered his
head and swallowed Mace’s erection down to the root.
That prompted a wail from Mace that made Obi-Wan
chuckle again. Given how his throat was
occupied at the time of his laughter, that also
provoked an interesting reaction. Mace
shivered all the way from his scalp to the soles of his feet and choked out,
“Unless you wish this to be over before it has scarcely begun, I’d recommend a
little less intensity.”
He had a point, Obi-Wan reluctantly conceded, and
very slowly withdrew back up until only the head rested against his lips.
Then he blew, very softly, right across the top of
the glans.
So much for restraint. Mace gave a rumbling groan and
came hard. Obi-Wan barely had time to
open his mouth before he was swallowing.
Once he caught up he didn’t let go until Mace was completely relaxed
beneath him. Then he crawled up Mace’s
body, reversing his earlier trail of kisses until he could close his mouth over
Mace’s.
Mace returned his kiss with characteristic
thoroughness, and by the time his tongue finished exploring every inner surface
of Obi-Wan’s mouth, Obi-Wan was near the end of his own endurance. Of course, it didn’t hurt that the entire
time Mace was kissing him, he was also caressing him, hands sweeping over his
skin, closer and closer to Obi-Wan’s erection, until he finally took pity on
the tiny panting moans Obi-Wan couldn’t help making and wrapped his hand around
the source of heat. A few tight,
twisting strokes, and Obi-Wan shuddered once before curling into Mace’s hand
and coming so hard the world went white.
When he came back to himself, Mace lay next to him,
half-wrapped around him, their legs tangled together, watching his face. When he was sure Obi-Wan was coherent again,
he dragged his fingers through the spill on Obi-Wan’s belly and lazily licked
them clean.
“Oh, mercy,” Obi-Wan whispered, feeling every
molecule in his being respond to the blatant invitation in Mace’s move. As he felt himself hardening again, he had to
laugh a little. Mace gave him an
inquisitive look.
“I was thinking… it’s probably just as well we save
up for these times we can be together.
Between the long dry spells and the little time we actually get to be
with one another, it’s a good thing we’ve got stamina-”
Mace wrapped his sticky hand back around Obi-Wan’s swelling erection and
interrupted with, “And a quick recovery time.”
Obi-Wan’s response was too strangled to make sense,
not that either noticed. With the edge
off, they were able to take their time, and they did.
Over the course of the next hour, Mace reacquainted
himself with every curve and line of Obi-Wan’s body, and Obi-Wan returned the
favor. Touch flowed into touch, breath
mingling with breath or ghosting over skin until they were so closely bound the
only way to tell where one began and the other ended was the blend from deep
brown to creamy pale skin. They were
complete, together, in a way neither was apart, although it was a secret
completeness, and one others didn’t know to look for,
so didn’t see.
In the end, sweat glazed their bodies as they moved
together. Mace lay back against the
pillows, his knees raised to support Obi-Wan’s back, as Obi-Wan rocked over
him, taking Mace deep inside then rising on his knees to nearly release him
before sinking back down onto him again.
They moved slowly, absorbing one another, eyes locked, Obi-Wan’s hands
balancing himself against Mace’s chest as Mace reached between them to pull
gently on Obi-Wan’s erection.
After what felt like, at once, forever and an
instant, the urgency rose too greatly to deny, and Obi-Wan moved faster,
pushing harder as Mace arched into him, Mace’s hand on him matching the swifter
movement perfectly. Obi-Wan’s head fell
back as he came, his mouth opening to moan Mace’s name, and shivered before
collapsing into Mace’s arms. Mace
followed shortly thereafter, muffling his scream in Obi-Wan’s mouth, arms
clenching around Obi-Wan’s back to hold him close.
They lay like that for some time, breath settling,
wound so tightly together they appeared to be one figure, perfectly
complementary in dark brown and cream.
Anakin stared at the sight of the two Masters
twined together. Obi-Wan’s head rested
against Mace’s chest. Mace’s arms were
wrapped around Obi-Wan’s back. Their
legs were tangled together, Mace’s longer smooth brown legs rubbing lazily
against Obi-Wan’s furry freckled legs even in his near-sleep. Their embrace bespoke peace and exhaustion,
haven and acceptance.
Love.
Perhaps Padme was right.
Perhaps Obi-Wan could help them.
At least, Obi-Wan might understand, in a way Anakin
didn’t think any of the other Masters ever would.
Anakin reached out to turn off the holovid when he heard Obi-Wan say something to Mace. Catching his name, he ran the vid back and paid closer attention, listening intently.
“I’m worried about Ani, Mace.” It was evident in his voice. He burrowed more deeply into Mace’s arms and
sighed. “Something’s not right. I even went to ask Padme if she had any idea
what might be bothering him. I’m very
worried about him.”
Mace dusted a kiss across the top of Obi-Wan’s head
and sighed. “You know I don’t trust him,
Obi-Wan.”
“I know.” Obi-Wan sounded resigned, as if this was
an old argument, never resolved. “But I
do trust him, with my life. He’s never
let me down. I don’t believe he ever
will.”
“I hope for your sake you’re right.” Mace pressed another kiss onto Obi-Wan, this
one on his forehead, then closed his eyes and rumbled,
“You can but ask. If he trusts you, and
he can tell you, he will.”
A moment later, Mace was asleep. Obi-Wan tightened his hold on Mace and
mumbled sadly, “I hope he does.” Then
his eyes closed and he joined Mace in slumber.
Anakin slowly reached over and turned off the holovid. Padme spoke
the truth. He would go to Obi-Wan. It was time to ask for help.
When he returned to bed, Padme was awake. He smiled at her, reassuring her as much as
he could that things would be all right.
She knew him better than he knew himself. She could tell he’d come to a decision, and
for once she didn’t press him for details.
Instead, she simply drew him down into the circle of her embrace and
told him how much she loved him with her kiss.
More aroused than he would have expected from
watching his Master make love, Anakin gently lay Padme down against the soft
sheets and showed her, in return, how he worshipped her. Losing himself in her strong arms and soft
thighs, gently touching the roundness of her abdomen where their child rested,
cradling her beloved face in his hands as he kissed her, Anakin felt for the
first time in a very long time that the future at last held hope.
That night held no more terrors for him. For a single night, at least, love brought
respite from fear.
Anakin caught up with Obi-Wan outside the
library. He fought a grin at how relaxed
his Master looked, knowing he held much the same expression himself.
Obi-Wan looked up from his data pad and saw him,
returning his smile with a slightly puzzled one of his own. “You look happy, Anakin. That’s a good sign.”
Anakin nodded, then looked
around to ensure they weren’t overheard.
“Master, I must… I need to ask your advice.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed in a familiar look of
concern. “Are you all right?”
“Not here,” Anakin answered, drawing Obi-Wan into
an empty conference room. Once the door
was closed and locked, Anakin turned to find Obi-Wan perched on the table,
staring at him, the data pad forgotten on the table beside him.
“You’re worrying me, Anakin. What’s wrong?”
His voice was gentle, inviting confidence rather
than commanding it. The
words of a friend, not a master.
That alone would have reassured Anakin.
Given what he now knew of Obi-Wan’s private life, he was convinced he’d
made the right choice of confidant.
Obi-Wan would understand; Yoda would not. Anakin dropped into a chair in front of
Obi-Wan and looked up at him earnestly.
“I need your help.
Do you remember…” Anakin’s voice broke, and he
stopped for a moment to gather his composure before continuing. “Do you remember when my mother was
murdered? I had nightmares about it for
weeks before it happened.”
“I remember,” Obi-Wan answered, looking, if
possible, even more concerned. “Are you
having nightmares again?”
Anakin nodded, unable for the moment to speak past the lump in his throat.
“Is it… are you the one, in your nightmare?”
Anakin shook his head, and Obi-Wan leaned forward.
“Is it someone you know?” Another nod, and
Obi-Wan continued. “Someone you
love? I can see this has been bothering
you for some time.”
Clearing his throat and taking a deep breath,
Anakin said quietly, “It’s Padme. She dies… in childbirth.”
Obi-Wan’s swift intake of air showed Anakin how
much that shocked him. Anakin relaxed
still further at this sign of affection and worry for Padme, now that he was
certain it was not romantic interest that spurred Obi-Wan’s concern.
“She’s my wife,” Anakin continued, his voice
stronger now, happiness running beneath the confession.
Obi-Wan jolted in shock and nearly slid off the
table. Anakin automatically grabbed hold
of his arm to steady him. Obi-Wan
wrapped his hand around Anakin’s wrist as if it were a lifeline.
“Your wife?” Obi-Wan asked blankly. “How long? How did this
happen?”
Anakin felt anger rising within himself
and quickly brought it under control.
Obi-Wan wasn’t challenging him – yet – but he
had to make the situation perfectly clear.
“How long have you and Master Windu been lovers?”
Obi-Wan’s fingers clenched then relaxed around his
wrist. Anakin let his hold fall away as
Obi-Wan straightened up. The two men
looked at one another for a long moment, appraisal and honesty shining in their
eyes. They were closer than
brothers. At times it was as if they could
read one another’s minds, and this was one of those times. Suddenly, Obi-Wan gave a blazing grin.
“Eight years.
You and Padme?”
The question implied both lack of protest and
acceptance of truth between them. Anakin
grinned back. “Six years.”
“The baby?” Obi-Wan suddenly looked thunderstruck.
“You’re going to be a father!”
“That’s the thing…” Anakin found himself swallowing
against a dry throat again. “Do you
think… do you think they’ll make me leave the Order? I’ve… given in to my emotions.”
Unspoken lay the reminder that
he wasn’t the only one. Obi-Wan nodded agreement with both, but
didn’t look as worried as Anakin felt. Another relief, another tiny release of tension from Anakin’s soul.
“Master Qui-Gon wasn’t a typical Jedi, Anakin.”
Anakin looked askance at Obi-Wan, then settled in to listen.
Obi-Wan often taught life lessons through his stories. This should be one of the most useful.
“The training I received from Qui-Gon encouraged me
to think beyond the boundaries of doctrine, and oddly enough, at the same time
it led me to understand that the doctrine was what kept us from losing
ourselves in the chaos around us. In
reaction to his… rather unusual approach to the Force, I became, if anything,
more conservative than not. But one of
his lessons is reinforced to me every day that I live… the Jedi Code is not the
entirety of what it is to be a Jedi.”
Anakin shook his head. “I don’t understand, Master.”
“What is the essential difference between the Sith and the Jedi, Anakin?”
As Palpatine had been asking the same sort of
question quite a lot lately, Anakin had been thinking on that exact problem,
and answered readily enough, “The Sith draw their strength from their passions,
while the Jedi draw it from their control.
The Jedi direct their strength outward, to help others, while the Sith direct it inward, to help only themselves.”
“That is what the letter of the Code would have us
believe, if we interpret it literally.”
Obi-Wan’s dry tone made it plain he didn’t. Anakin sat upright and stared intently at his
Master.
“Please,” Anakin whispered, “explain that to
me.” Padme was everything to him, but so
was being a Jedi, and the thought that the two were mutually exclusive was
killing his soul.
“I believe that being a Jedi does not mean denying
emotion or suppressing passion. I
believe that love is to the Jedi as hate is to the Sith;
the Jedi’s’ strength may not preclude passion, but direct it outward rather
than inward… the very definition of love.”
It felt as if a huge weight was lifted from his
back, but Anakin wasn’t completely reassured.
“Thank you, Obi-Wan. That makes
sense to me, in a way nothing else did.
I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Padme, but I couldn’t walk away
from being a Jedi, either. I believe in
what we do, as Jedi, but I also believe that what Padme and I have is good,
too. And I couldn’t understand how two
things that were good couldn’t exist with one another.”
He paused and sighed, looking down at the fists now
knotted in his lap. Quietly he continued,
“But I don’t think your belief is the majority one on the Council,
Obi-Wan. Too many of the Masters don’t
trust me, and some have openly said they are watching for a reason to remove
me, either from the Council or the Order, or both.”
“The Council deals with political situations, and
human situations, that often fall outside the simple black and white view we
learn when we’re younger, Anakin. You
may have more support than you know,” Obi-Wan told him. “I will fight for you. You are a better Jedi than I, certainly, and
it would be the height of hypocrisy to lose you simply because you live the
Code rather than following it blindly and unthinkingly.”
Obi-Wan smiled down at Anakin and Anakin returned
it, if weakly. He wasn’t convinced, but
he knew Obi-Wan would keep his word, and fight to keep Anakin in the
Order. “What do I do, in the
meantime? I’m worried about Padme and
the baby. I’m afraid I’ll be sent off on
a mission to get me out of the way so the Council can debate my fate without my
presence to interfere with the proceedings.
I don’t know what to do.” He
hated sounding so helpless, but that’s truly how he felt; so tied up with
confusion and fear he could barely feel the Force.
The heavy weight of Obi-Wan’s hand on his shoulder
was comforting. “I counsel patience, but
not here. The root of your trouble is
your concern for Padme’s health. I
recommend you take Padme and go into seclusion on Naboo. The best way to try to ensure nothing goes
wrong is to be there with her.”
Anakin opened his mouth to protest leaving in the
midst of the war and the Senate upheaval, but Obi-Wan stopped him with an
upraised hand. “While you are taking
care of your family, I will work on the Council to loosen the more hidebound
rules. The Code is always open to
interpretation; with support from Mace and Master Yoda, there will be changes.”
“I’m not sure Master Windu would support me,”
Anakin admitted. “He doesn’t trust me.”
“Perhaps not, but he does trust me. And he loves me, as I love him.” Obi-Wan shrugged, his blue eyes
sparkling. “Such changes would not only
benefit yourself, you know, Anakin.”
Anakin grinned in return, for a moment, before
looking worried again. “What about the
Chancellor?”
Obi-Wan’s mouth thinned and the sparkle in his eyes
muted. “You take care of Padme. Leave Palpatine to the
Council.”
It was hard to say, but Anakin forced it out. “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan, but I don’t trust the
Council.”
Obi-Wan nodded slowly. “It’s difficult to extend trust when there is
none extended to you. I understand your
misgivings. I ask rather that you trust
me, and Mace, and Yoda. Some of the
other members of the Council have reason to support such a reinterpretation of
the Code as well. Would you do that? Would you trust me, us, to look after your
interests in your absence and relieve your mind so you may take Padme away and
look after her?”
Anakin looked deeply into Obi-Wan’s eyes, feeling
and seeing nothing but honest concern and blunt truth. Eventually he nodded. “Yes.”
He sighed. “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”
He stood and leaned forward, catching Obi-Wan in an
unexpected hug, as he hadn’t done since he was a child. Obi-Wan shifted off the table and embraced
him in turn, patting his back soothingly.
“It will work out, Anakin. Trust yourself, trust me, and trust the
Force.”
“I will,” Anakin promised. Silently, he added, I will try. As if he heard the thought, Obi-Wan pulled
back and pinned Anakin with a stare.
“Don’t try.
Do.”
Anakin couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, Master.” He would, then. Trust came slowly and painfully, but in this
man, and because of Obi-Wan, in himself, Anakin would trust.
Later that evening he crossed the floor of their
living quarters to join Padme on the cushioned bench across from the great
window. The lights of Coruscant spread
out before them as if God had scattered jewels at their feet; Anakin wasn’t so
sure for himself, but he definitely knew Padme deserved them.
“I’ve given what you said a lot of thought,” he began
hesitantly.
She looked up at him, hope warring with nervousness
in her eyes, and he had to kiss her.
Some time later he came up for air, much calmer about his news, if much
more excited about other things. Still,
if his life had taught him nothing else, it was that work must come before
pleasure, and there was a lot of work to be done if their life together as a
family was to get off to a good start.
“What I said?” Padme prompted him, a bit dreamily,
as she was distracted by kisses as well.
“Naboo. I agree. We should go to Naboo. Now.”
She peered at him closely, a question forming on
her lips. Before she could speak, he
went on.
“I talked with Obi-Wan, as you suggested. It was a good idea. He’s going to talk to the Council about
me. About us. But he said you should be my first priority,
and I agree. He also said we should go
to Naboo, at least until after the baby’s born.
I need to be with you, and you need to be there. So we’ll go.”
Her smile lit her entire face. She was radiant, and he was lost in her.
“Now?” she reiterated softly.
He nodded, smiling in return. “Now.”
An hour later, they were on their way home.
At the same time Anakin and Padme, with C3PO and
R2D2, were on their way to Naboo, Obi-Wan was in the Council chambers debating
how to approach Anakin’s, and his, situation.
His thoughts were interrupted when a call came from Senate
headquarters. Chancellor Palpatine
requested Anakin. So Obi-Wan took the
call.
“Chancellor,” he greeted the holoimage
politely. “How may the Jedi be of
assistance?”
Palpatine looked put out for a moment at not seeing
Anakin, but quickly covered with his usual twitchy smile. “Ah, General Kenobi. I was hoping to speak with young
Skywalker. Is he not available?”
His expression made it plain what he expected the
answer to be. He had a difficult time
hiding his shock as Obi-Wan shook his head.
“My sincere apologies, Chancellor, but Knight
Skywalker has been called off-planet.”
“Why would the Jedi send-” Before the bluster could get out of
hand, Obi-Wan interrupted.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t make myself clear. Anakin is away on urgent family
business. This leave is not at the
behest of the Order.”
His smooth delivery of the excuse was made even
easier by the fact that it wasn’t a lie, but the bald truth. Palpatine glared at him for a split second
before the politician’s mask slid firmly back in place.
“That is… most unfortunate,” the Chancellor said,
his words drawing out almost in a hiss.
“Perhaps I might be of assistance?” Obi-Wan
offered.
The grimace of a smile he received in response
wasn’t reassuring.
Half an hour later, in the Chancellor’s private
chambers, the feeling that something was off about the whole situation
solidified. Palpatine made a few subtle
attempts to grill Obi-Wan about Anakin’s whereabouts, dropping more clues about
his own interest than he intended, no doubt, along the way. He even made mention of Padme, and Anakin’s
worry for her.
It stank to high heaven, as far as Obi-Wan was concerned.
The stated reason for the meeting was to inform
Obi-Wan that General Grievous had been located.
The underlying motivation was to find Anakin and
return him to Palpatine.
It was only as he was leaving that Obi-Wan finally
figured out exactly why Palpatine wanted Anakin so badly. As he stepped from the room, Obi-Wan felt a
weird disturbance in the Force, and instinctively glanced over at an artifact
hanging on the wall across from the entrance to the Chancellor’s office. The highly-polished metal reflected the image
of the Chancellor… with purple Force-fire crackling around his fingertips.
It was over in a second, so quickly Obi-Wan didn’t
even break stride, and gave no indication of what he’d seen. But he knew what it was.
Only the Sith called forth
such a manifestation of the Force.
Purely destructive, nearly as draining and disfiguring for the user as
the victim, such Force-fire was repulsive to the Jedi by its very nature. It was a physical creation of hatred and
rage, the Dark side made visible.
Chancellor Palpatine was the Sith Lord they had all
been looking for.
The Master of the horned demon who had killed Qui-Gon.
Count Dooku’s master,
who’d set up his own apprentice for death… but why?
It took but an instant for the answers to come to
Obi-Wan.
To test Anakin.
To seduce Anakin to the Dark side.
To prey on Anakin’s fear for Padme and turn him to the Dark.
To destroy Anakin, tearing him from the path of the
Jedi and setting him on the path of the Sith.
Obi-Wan shuddered at how close they had come to
disaster. He had to take care of this,
now, before Palpatine… Sidious found Anakin and went after him again.
Obi-Wan would not let that happen.
No matter what he had to do to stop it.
Sheer determination fueled his footsteps as he
rushed back to the
At first there was some protest, but Obi-Wan didn’t
give the other Masters time to complain.
Raising one hand to quiet them, much as he had Anakin earlier, he stated
bluntly, “General Grievous has been found.
Furthermore, so has Darth Sidious.”
He waited a moment for the gasps and exclamations to die down, then dropped his final bombshell. “Chancellor Palpatine is Darth Sidious.”
Mace looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Are you certain, Obi-Wan?” he asked
urgently.
“Disastrous, this is,” Yoda chimed in. “The Senate, he has, and the Judiciary, under
his sway. Very dangerous, very
dangerous, this situation has become!”
“We must arrest him at once,” Ki
Adi Mundi weighed in.
“Take out Grievous, we must, as well,” Yaddle added.
“Without their remaining general, the separatists
will fall,” Plo Koon said, “but taking the Sith Lord in will be
difficult. He is powerful.”
“Go after Grievous, I will. Nearest to his position, I am,” Yoda
declared. “Masters Kenobi and Windu,
with assistance from Knights, Sidious you will take.”
A glance around the Council was enough to tell
consensus was reached. “So it shall be,”
Adi Gallia ended the discussion, and with that, the
Council broke session to carry out its latest onerous missions.
Obi-Wan and Mace, conscious of the three Knights
following them, didn’t speak as they boarded their cruiser and headed for the
Chancellor’s headquarters. A look, the
brush of hands between them, the stillness in the Force when they reached out
to one another; it was all the assurance they could afford to take, and all
they would need.
Palpatine was alone when the small group of Jedi
walked into his chambers. For an instant
Obi-Wan saw surprise in his eyes, then there was a flash of yellow, and if
there had been any doubt left in Obi-Wan’s mind, it disappeared completely.
This man was evil.
He had to be deposed, and tried, and put somewhere he couldn’t hurt
anyone else. Mace, as senior Master,
stepped forward.
“Chancellor Palpatine, you are under arrest, for
treason to the Senate and the Republic, as Darth Sidious.”
His voice rang through the room. Obi-Wan braced himself.
The Sith Lord didn’t bother trying to deny the
charges. Instead, in a flash of black
cloth and whirling motion, he vaulted across the room and attacked, striking
more quickly than any of the Jedi could have expected.
In a single stroke of his red light saber, Sidious
killed two of the Knights. Obi-Wan
ducked and rolled out of the way of a back-handed slice that would have taken
his head off and watched helplessly as the third Knight was struck down.
For an instant, Obi-Wan wished Anakin was at his
side; they’d fought as a unit for so long each knew the way the other would think, and together they were nearly unstoppable.
However, as he dove under another blow, barely
fending it off before slashing upward, his ‘saber hitting nothing but air, he
recalled how Sidious had targeted Anakin, no doubt trying to make him the next
Sith apprentice. With that in mind,
Obi-Wan was glad Anakin was safe on Naboo with Padme.
The fight raged fiercely, Sidious striking so
rapidly the light from his ‘saber was a red blur. The bright blue-white of Obi-Wan’s ‘saber and
the rich purple of Mace’s wove an intricate dance of near-misses with the red
streak of the Sith’s, death
averted by a breath, a breath that grew shorter the longer the battle
continued.
Several times Obi-Wan found himself thrown across
the room, the last time nearly losing consciousness from his impact with the
wall. He fought to stay on his feet, to
stay in the battle, knowing if he let himself fail, even for an instant, Mace
would die.
He would not lose another he loved at the hands of the Sith,
because he was too slow to respond in battle.
Never again.
Lightning crackled from the Sith Lord’s free hand,
tying Mace’s ‘saber in a knot of Force-wire and leaving him incapable of
defending himself against Sidious’ ‘saber.
With a scream of pure denial, Obi-Wan threw himself across the room and
bodily knocked Sidious away an instant before he would have impaled Mace on the
blood-red ‘saber.
They landed in a heap, Obi-Wan fighting to retain
control of his ‘saber even as Sidious snarled and reached out to crush his
throat in a Force-grip. Obi-Wan choked,
smelling the burning cloth of his tunic and his own burnt flesh before he
actually felt the ‘saber enter his side.
He couldn’t even scream.
As the world dimmed around him, he heard an
unearthly howl. Sidious, so close
Obi-Wan could see his own reflection in the glowing yellow eyes, suddenly
stiffened, shock overtaking his features.
Then Sidious’ head disappeared in a flash of purple light and a gush of
blood. For the space of a heartbeat,
Obi-Wan felt the grip on his throat relax, and gasped in a desperately-needed
breath of air, before he lost the battle to stay conscious.
The last thing he saw before the world went black
was Mace, blood running freely down his face from a cut to his forehead, cradling
Obi-Wan’s face in his hands, and telling him to hold on.
Far away from Coruscant, sitting on a grassy bank
watching flowers float past on the lake, holding Padme as she napped in the
sunshine and dreaming of nothing in particular, Anakin felt a jolt through the
Force. He focused, concentrating on the
sensation, but it was past. In the
aftermath, he felt strangely light, as if a shadow had left his heart.
From that night on, Anakin suffered no further
nightmares of Padme’s death. Three weeks
later she gave birth, not to one healthy baby, but to two. He looked from his son and his daughter to
his wife, beaming radiantly if tiredly up at him, and knew that a tragedy had
been averted, somehow, thanks to Padme and Obi-Wan and his own acceptance of the
love in his life.
And all was as it should be.
Mace’s words echoed in Obi-Wan’s mind, anchoring
him in the Force as time stilled, then slowly returned to normal.
He opened his eyes to find himself in a private
room in the infirmary at the
There was a warm weight wrapped around his right
hand, holding it securely. For a moment,
he thought it was some sort of traction device, to immobilize an injury, then he realized that it was a hand. Holding his. A familiar hand.
Obi-Wan forced open his eyes to take in the
unexpected sight of Mace, sitting curled over in a chair, sound asleep, holding
on to his hand. A tendril of panic
curled through him – what if someone came in and caught them? How would he explain this? He tried, gently, to tug his hand free, but
Mace didn’t budge.
He didn’t wake up, either.
“Leave him be, you should,” Yoda’s raspy voice came
from his left, and Obi-Wan swung his head around so fast he made himself dizzy.
By the time he’d blinked his eyes back into focus,
Yoda had levitated upward on his mobile platform to make it easier for Obi-Wan
to see him. The ancient Master looked
battered. One ear was still splinted,
scars showing where it was nearly torn off.
His left arm stuck stiffly out at an angle, the muscles showing signs of
regeneration through the skin, and he now sported an eye patch over his left
eye. A ‘saber scar ran over his forehead,
disappearing behind the patch before reappearing to cross his cheek, all the
way across his chin. He looked as if
he’d barely escaped with his life from a terrible fight.
“Dashing,” Obi-Wan said before he could stop
himself.
Yoda glared at him, but there was more amusement
than heat in the look.
“Did you get the ID on the Sith
that ran over you?” Obi-Wan again let his tongue run away without his brain,
and realized he was still on heavy pain medication. He looked an apology at Yoda, who waved it
off.
“Grievous, it was.
Cut his heart out, I did.”
Obi-Wan blinked again. “That’d do it.”
“Did,” Yoda agreed.
“Much has happened. Speak, we
must. But first, rest, you will. Regain your strength.”
Obi-Wan glanced over at Mace, then back at Yoda. “Is everything all right?” he asked with some
trepidation.
“More than, young Obi-Wan,” Yoda assured him
gently. “More than.”
Well, if Yoda was not protesting, and Mace wouldn’t
let go, there was nothing Obi-Wan could do about it, so he let himself flow
with the medication and float away.
The Senate was in an uproar. There was talk of a Jedi rebellion, of Droid
Separatists running wild in the streets of the capital, of Sith
infiltrating the government and undermining the Republic.
Little did the rumor-mongers know, the third, most
outlandish of all, was the only one that was true.
On Naboo, Chancellor Palpatine was buried in a
state ceremony with full honors. His
body rested in a closed casket due to the severity of burns received, according
to official reports, in an attack on his office that signified the last gasp of
resistance before the Jedi-led Clone armies crushed the Separatists. The deaths of Grievous and Dooku and the arrest of the remainder of the Separatist
leaders was the first step toward a lasting peace in the Republic.
The Chancellor was remembered by his supporters and
admirers as a tireless worker on behalf of the Senate, of liberty for all the
member planets, and of Republican ideals galaxy-wide. The Jedi honor guard there to ensure no
violence marred the ceremonies did not comment.
Yoda, with the able assistance of Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan, worked like a
being possessed to keep the government stable during the dismantling of Palpatine’s fledgling empire and the transition of power in
the Galactic Senate. The Senators, after
weeks of debate, offered the Chancellor’s position to Senator Organa.
He accepted, his
acceptance conditional upon the appointment being an interim position only,
until order could be restored on those worlds most severely impacted by the
war. Within four years, the Senate would
be functioning ably once again, without the shadow influence of the Sith to undermine its efforts.
Less than a week after Sidious was defeated, Adi Gallia, researching his past projects in an effort to
stave off any Sith traps he might have left behind,
discovered an implanted command embedded in the genetic code of the clone
soldiers. The command, ‘order 66’, would
cause the clones to turn on, hunt down and kill any and all Jedi warriors.
There was no countermand to the order.
With the full support of the Council, less Master
Kenobi who was unconscious in the infirmary recovering from the wounds Sidious
had inflicted upon him, and Knight Skywalker who was
in retreat with his wife awaiting the birth of their child, the clone army was
deployed to wipe out the last cells of the Separatist army. When their task was complete, the survivors
were recalled. Sequestered.
And killed. To the last clone.
With that threat rendered moot, the Council turned
its attention to reconsideration of prophecies and reinterpretation of the
Code.
While discussion continued on such complex matters,
stays of removal from the order for violation of the Code were issued for Masters
Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Depa Billaba, Oppo
Rancisis, and Eeth Koth, all of whom were determined to be in committed
relationships in violation of the strict interpretation of the Code.
Similar stays were executed for Knight Skywalker
and nearly eighty other Knights. Given
the widespread liberal interpretation of the code, and the fact that nearly
half the Council would be ejected from the Order if changes weren’t made, it
was decided to allow the transgressors to remain in their positions until such
time as a more thorough examination of the application of the Code could be
undertaken.
In reality, the Jedi Order was shaken to its
foundation by the nearness of its escape from destruction at the hands of the Sith. It forced them
to think over how they approached life, how they interacted with the Force, and
what elements provided the strength and determination that epitomized the Jedi.
To no one’s surprise, less than six months after
the review began, it ended… with a re-evaluated interpretation of the Code that
could only be described as the working application of realistic idealism.
If one asked Obi-Wan, or Anakin, they would give a
simpler answer. In the Light, love will
eventually prevail.
END