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The mission that changes everything is one they go on several years after the end of the war.
Things shift a lot over time, in increments. At first, after that day when Obi-Wan discovers the collar’s effect, he is very careful. Dancing around instructing Anakin to do anything. He has a slip or two in life-or-death situations with exclamations like “Anakin duck!” but they’re hardly anything to worry over. He’s meticulous with his word choice in everything he says in Anakin’s presence. Even things said to others, when Anakin is within earshot. It sounds tiring to the Knight, but he never complains of course. It brings Obi-Wan a bit of solace, so he lets it be.
All the while his Master searches for a means to free Anakin. Anakin can’t directly sabotage his attempts, but he doesn’t have to help either. If Obi-Wan doesn’t demand it. And he does not, of course.
As weeks turn into months, between their other responsibilities, Obi-Wan’s research hits a wall. Hard. There just isn’t much to go on, the trail truly has gone cold with the death of the last Sith.
And it’s in this time, when Obi-Wan’s in a rut. When he is unable to convince himself that he can and will find a means to release Anakin, that it happens. The beginning of the downward slide.
They are having a minor argument while adrift in a dead ship, trying to either get help or the ship in working order, when Obi-Wan breaks his own golden rule.
It isn’t a life-or-death situation, at least not in the immediate and panicked sense that could excuse an accidental slip-up.
⟡
“Anakin just shut up and let me think, will you!” Obi-Wan snaps coldly.
Anakin goes silent, as his eyes widen in surprise. Obi-Wan hasn’t tripped up once like this in anger. Not once, no matter how frustrated he’s been with Anakin at times.
After a second the Jedi Master falters, expression flashing with regret and shame. His eyes sliding shut as he mutters, “I’m sorry, you can talk Anakin. I never meant to-…”
“It’s fine Obi-Wan. It was only a slip.” Anakin replies softly.
Obi-Wan frowns as he radiates discomfort in the Force. But he doesn’t reply to the statement.
“To get help we need to focus on fixing our coms. It’s the most pressing matter. The engines are inoperable. We need to prioritise.” He continues his point, no longer shouting now. His voice soft and hesitant.
“Alright Obi-Wan. We’ll focus on coms.” Anakin agrees. As he always does.
If Obi-Wan doesn’t want to talk about what just happened, Anakin will happily ignore it. He may have gotten ‘used to’ the lack of orders, but he’s no more distressed about it than ever before.
If he were to describe what he’s feeling, he’d say he’s missed it. There’s a simplicity, a straightforwardness to his task when Obi-Wan just tells him to do what will make him happy.
Anakin says nothing, and gets to work.
It’s not the last time it happens. It’s the first of many.
Small moments to begin with. Obi-Wan’s meticulous phrasing of any request or thought changing just slightly. Just enough to be an order, rather than a query. Anakin still says nothing. He’s not certain whether Obi-Wan is doing it consciously or not.
And Anakin? He basks in the ease of finally know what to do again. How to be.
Little by little Obi-Wan slips further. Making orders disguised as suggestions for how Anakin should be, as a Jedi. The kinds of things he’s said dozens of times in all the years they’ve known each other. But now instead of being snippy little comments they’re words that become fact when he speaks them.
Anakin is a good Jedi. A better Jedi than he’s sure anyone ever expected him to be.
He thinks it gives Obi-Wan an almost vicious satisfaction, if the dark look Anakin catches in his eyes sometimes is anything to go by.
It is perhaps interesting…
Anakin knows Obi-Wan loves him. Has loved him as he was, flaws and all. But cannot resist the temptation to make Anakin just so.
Anakin supposes few could.
He probably wouldn’t.
Months of Obi-Wan slipping turn into years. Years of a new normal between them. An unspoken shift where Obi-Wan couches command in gentle language, from time to time. Particularly when he’s frustrated or tired, but occasionally outside of those moments too.
Anakin has truly never been more content in his life. He’s never really felt peace, until this. Both because he’s fulfilling his purpose and making Obi-Wan happy, but also because Obi-Wan has ordered him to find and have peace. He’s forced it on Anakin.
And it’s great.
For six long years, it’s great.
And then the mission happens.
Master Yoda is the one who senses the disturbance in the Force and beckons Anakin to fly out into the unknown alongside him. The two of them find something that shouldn’t be there, in the depths of space. A strange planetoid that seems to be made of the Force.
Upon their arrival and landing they find the Father, who tells them of Mortis. All the while the Son sets his plans of escape into motion. He and the Daughter clash. Chaos reigns.
And Anakin finds himself in a position where Master Yoda’s life is being threatened by the Son. He’s not strong enough to take down the Dark Force entity alone, even with his access to the Force ripped wide open in this place.
The Father hesitantly claims he can save them if he possesses Anakin briefly.
Anakin wants nothing more than to say no, but sees no other options. And agrees reluctantly. The Father possesses him then, and everything becomes bright white heat. He can vaguely sense his arms and mouth moving without his input, but isn’t fully aware of anything beyond the Force and the overwhelming, suffocating weight of the Father’s presence.
During that moment where Anakin feels like he’s the bottle containing the lightning, something inside him snaps like a twig. When he feels that power, that concentration of the Force leave his body a minute later, he falls slack to the ground and everything goes dark as he tries to hold tight to consciousness. And fails.
⟡
Anakin wakes in the Halls of Healing, immediately sensing that some time has passed. He blinks up at the white ceiling and the walls. He takes stock and finds that he feels okay, just strangely tired. He aches in an odd, not quite physical way. He pulls himself up in bed and looks around the room. His gaze lands on the figure sitting vigil by his bed, lightly meditating by the looks of it.
The expected feeling, that need to do and listen he’s come to lean on, doesn’t follow.
Anakin stares at Obi-Wan. He swallows slowly.
Nothing has changed outwardly, but he just knows.
There’s a hollowness in him now. That feeling, that certainty from before is gone. And all he’s left with is a growing horror and awareness.
An instinct rises up inside him, to bolt from the room.
This feeling in his chest, this smallness. This cornered animal he’s discovered inside himself...
It’s so much worse than it was when he returned to Tatooine and saw Watto for the first time in a decade. It’s so, so much worse.
The world grows blurry and warped and he abruptly realises he’s crying as a sob escapes his throat.
The shape of Obi-Wan moves towards him a second later and before he can decide whether he wants to shrink back—the man looming over him feels both like Watto did but also like the comfort of his mother on freezing nights—his hand has been taken. Obi-Wan squeezes in reassurance, running his thumb over the back of it.
“It’s alright dear. It’s okay now.” Obi-Wan soothes. Orders.
“No, it isn’t.” Anakin disagrees. Stressing the point.
He blinks rapidly to clear the tears, and sees Obi-Wan recoil as if he’s been slapped.
“A-Anakin are you-?” He stutters in shock.
“Free? Yes. It’s gone. The collar’s influence is gone.” He answers emptily.
Obi-Wan slumps back into his chair with the weight of his relief. Anakin’s hand slipping from his. Guilt clouds his Force signature so intensely that he must surely feel it like a physical weight. Anakin can almost taste it.
“I know it’s not enough, but I’m so sorry Anakin.” He tells the floor.
Anakin laughs bitterly, “No, it’s not enough.”
“Should I... go?” Obi-Wan asks quietly.
Anakin hesitates for a second.
“Just leave.” Escapes his lips, and he instantly regrets it.
But he doesn’t take it back as Obi-Wan stands, meeting Anakin’s gaze briefly with a deep, aching sadness behind his eyes. The Jedi Master leaves without another word.
It feels like a great betrayal when Anakin’s heart aches watching him go. Why does he still feel... this way? Without the collar’s influence he has no reason to love Obi-Wan in that way. The fabricated devotion is gone.
So why does Anakin still feel like his heart belongs to his Master?
Why is he still in love?
Could it have been there before the collar? All along he’d felt this buried somewhere underneath it all?
Anakin can’t make sense of it. He can’t make sense of anything. He doesn’t know himself anymore. He hasn’t been himself in so long but...
But at the same time he’s been right here, just like always. And he wasn’t acting or pretending. It was all him. In perfect, utter mental clarity.
It was all him. And yet none of it was him.
He has no idea who he is, now that he's been cut loose.
He doesn’t recognise himself without Obi-Wan. And he knows that isn’t just because of the collar. It’s been like that since he was Obi-Wan’s fresh faced and brand new Padawan. There is no one else who reflects his soul back at him, in the same way.
But that truth has always been a thorny one. And now, thanks to the yoke he has been under, it’s grown teeth.
⟡
Anakin begins to retreat, after he’s left to his own devices. He requests some time to spiritually and mentally recover from his last mission before his next. And in post-war peacetime that leave is granted readily. Which leaves him on his own in his quarters with nothing to do but think.
He feels like the ground has been stolen out from under him and he has no idea which way is up or down anymore. He keeps trying to reconcile the Jedi he has been these past years, the one everyone else in the Order is proud of, respects, and who he used to be. He’s been trying so hard to be this kind of Jedi for all the years he’s been in the Temple, and never been able to measure up. Never been able to find that inner serenity that is expected of him. And then Obi-Wan forced it on him, and he finally had it. And now he has nothing.
Now is once again that raging storm of fear and anger and pain in the Force. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. How to act, or how to be.
So he stays in his quarters and works on mechanical projects, just to have something to do. He starts by giving R2 the biggest tune up and slew of upgrades the astromech has ever gotten. But that only lasts him a few days, so then he moves on to working on designing and putting together a prosthesis that is way more advanced than his current arm. And his current prosthesis is already just about top of the market.
That job is difficult enough that it actually properly distracts him from his turmoil and gives him a task he won’t be finished with in another day. Which is something.
But while he works and designs and tests things, he doesn’t really bother to do anything else. He doesn’t want to sit in the refectory where other Jedi might try to talk to him. What will he say? How will he act? Whatever he does he knows it will disappoint them now they’ve seen a better version of him. He can’t stomach going. So he doesn’t eat much. He has some snacks and old ration packs sitting around in his quarters. He eats a little of that each day, just enough to hold off the shakes. But he knows it’s not really enough food.
He only bothers to bathe when the grease from his workbench threatens to become a fire hazard. But between those infrequent sonics he just doesn’t bother. He doesn’t care if his hair grows oily and tangled. Why should he care? Why should he care about anything at all anymore?
He lays down the soldering tool he was using on a delicate internal piece he’s been working on for the last day. If it works after the next test that’ll be another part of the design finalised now, and one step closer to the arm being finished.
He stares blankly at the mechanical parts in front of him as his mind drifts.
Why should he even try to do anything?
The one good thing about Qui-Gon finding him on Tatooine all those years ago was supposed to be him becoming free. It came at a great cost. He left his mother behind in slavery, to her fate. He never truly fit in with the Jedi, was never good enough no matter how hard he tried. But at least he was free.
Until he wasn’t. Until it was revealed that freedom was a state of being that was not compatible with Anakin Skywalker. A state he would never be safely ensconced in. Could not be.
He’d been enslaved far worse than with Watto. And it had been infinitely gentler. No physical beatings. No going hungry. No fear for his life and his mother’s. And most of all, no needing anything else. His heart and mind did not cry out for escape. They were more than content.
Anakin has never been content in his entire life. So why oh why is his only experience of it being a slave?
His stomach pitches dangerously and he gets up from the bench and rushes to his tiny fresher. A moment later he’s throwing up mostly bile into his toilet. His throat burns and his frame shakes.
He hasn’t felt this miserable or frail since his recovery after he lost his arm on Geonosis. And this time it’s entirely his own fault.
But for some reason he just can’t bring himself to get up and go eat a proper meal.
After a few minutes of just sitting there with his head pillowed against the toilet bowl he drags himself off the floor and cleans himself up with some water at the sink.
Just as he’s leaving the fresher there is a knock at his door. His head turns and his brow furrows. He reaches out his senses and feels Luminara on the other side of the door.
He’s got absolutely no idea why she’s here, but he shuffles his way over to the door and opens it.
She’s standing tall and patient in the hallway. She gives him a quick once over and then a small, encouraging smile. He doesn’t return it.
“Master Unduli?” He queries politely. Though a little more of his exhaustion and reticence slips into his voice than he means for.
“Skywalker I’ve told you before you may call me Luminara. And I was wondering if you might join me in the gardens? I’d like to speak with you.” She requests.
There is no steel or judgement in her voice, it’s a gentle request. Friendly. Anakin immediately wants to say no. He opens his mouth to do it even.
But then he thinks about the stale air of his room, and the small space given in Knight quarters, and hesitates. It’s late, his eyes tell him as he glances past her shoulder. Late enough that the halls won’t be busy as they walk.
He doesn’t really wish to speak to anyone, but maybe some air in the gardens would be… best.
“Alright, let me collect my robe.” He answers with some suppressed resignation.
A moment later he’s exiting his rooms and falling into step beside the Jedi Master. He likes Luminara. They’ve been on several missions together since the war, and he’s found a comradery with her that he wouldn’t have expected. Not back during the war on their deployment on Geonosis together.
“If I call you Luminara you must stop calling me Skywalker.” He says mostly to fill the silence. He’s never much liked silence, despite other Jedi happily sitting in it together for hours if allowed to.
A quick smile graces her lips and she tilts her head as she replies, “Alright Anakin, we are in agreement then.”
He asks her about her most recent mission to fill time as they walk through the Temple.
It’s nothing that stands out, at least not in comparison to how memorable Mortis is, but it’s kind of nice to just listen to someone talk about a normal diplomatic mission going smoothly. It would probably bore Anakin to death to be on a mission like that, but just hearing it summarised… the normalcy of that is nice.
She leads him to a bench in the gardens that’s surrounded by lush greenery and the sound of trees swaying in the wind. He can even hear the soft and distant sound of running water somewhere. The spot is as lovely and peaceful as any place in the Temple could be. Anakin tries to soak it up, though his legs shaking and his stomach cramping from hunger put a damper on it.
“I’ll be frank with you Anakin, I asked you here because I’m worried about you.” Luminara reveals.
He winches, head turned away. He reluctantly looks her way. She’s looking at him steadily, no judgement to be found on her face.
“I’m fine.” He tells her.
“I find that hard to believe. I don’t know the specifics of your last mission but I know it went poorly, and that some unexplained phenomenon happened on it. I also haven’t seen you around the Temple. I haven’t seen you in the refectory. I’m worried. Your friends are worried.” She says.
Her voice is low and she doesn’t sound alarmed but he can sense her concern in the Force, since they’re sitting so close. He doesn’t have to look very hard to find it.
“My friends?” He asks ruefully.
The people who have grown fond of a version of him that no longer exists? That wasn’t real. But also-
He closes his eyes and presses the fingers of his left hand into them, rubbing.
He doesn’t want to think about this. The contradiction of how him and not-him everything under the influence was. It’s too much.
“Knight Secura, Master Plo, his young Padawan Reva,” She lists while he says nothing, “I haven’t spoken to your old Captain Rex myself, but the initiate Huss, a clone cadet, reached out to me asking about you. Clearly for him.”
Huss probably asked for himself just as much as Rex, Anakin knows. The kid trails after him like a duckling. Anakin’s pretty sure the initiate is hoping he’ll take him as a Padawan. Rex has indicated he’d approve. And he’s the kid’s Guide.
The force sensitive clones who were young enough to join the Temple after the war all have an older Brother sort of sponsoring them, looking out for them. It’s part of how the whole mess shook out. Rex is a Guide half because he’s one of the clones living on Coruscant and half because he had more personal knowledge of the Force than any other non-Commander class clone.
Anakin isn’t taking Huss as a Padawan, obviously. Unfortunately for the kid.
“We’re worried Anakin.” Luminara repeats, because several seconds have stretched on without him answering her.
Anakin’s heart twists a little at the reminder of all the people asking after him. But he just doesn’t have the energy to do anything about it. It's all too complicated to explain and deal with. Though he should probably at least com Rex and tell him that he’s fine.
Give Reva a smile if he spots her in the halls. She sort of hero worships him, so that would probably be enough with her.
Of course he won’t see her in the halls if he never leaves his quarters, he realises.
“But not Obi-Wan huh?” He sighs softly. Feeling a stab of betrayal, and then annoyance at himself for it.
He glances at her out the corner of his eye, and then turns fully when he sees the tight-lipped expression on her face.
Anakin’s stomach turns to lead as he realises the truth.
“He put you up to this.” He says in a dead tone of voice.
She grimaces slightly.
“Anakin I don’t know what happened between you, he wouldn’t tell me. But he’s worried after your last mission. For some reason he didn’t think you’d want to see him. But he’s very worried. And once he pointed out to me that you don’t seem to be eating, I became worried too.” She defends.
He scoffs and stands from the bench. He doesn’t want to hear the rest of this.
“If you don’t wish to speak to me about this I understand but please at least… go to the refectory with me. It’s late. There’ll only be a couple of Jedi there. The selection for nocturnal Jedi is more limited than diurnal, but I’d feel a lot better if I at least knew you were eating.” She requests.
It’s an entirely reasonable request. Because Luminara is a very reasonable sort, that is her way. Which makes her hard to argue with.
“Fine. Just the refectory. I don’t want to talk about the mission.” He says, waiting for her to stand and fall into step with him.
It’s not just the mission that’s the problem, obviously. But he’s not about to tell her that.
He lets her walk him to the mess hall and sit with him as he eats something. As he makes his way through the meal his hands stop shaking so much and his stomach stops rebelling so hard against life. He feels a bit better, even if the meal itself is mostly tasteless to him. Luminara also eats something, probably so he doesn’t feel too awkward.
He does feel awkward though, because the silence is heavy and uncomfortable.
At least his stomach is full at the end and he feels a bit more like he can face tomorrow. Even if tomorrow is just more testing and tweaking parts of his design.
Maybe he’ll step out of his rooms at some point and try to catch Reva in the halls so he can reassure her. Maybe.
After all, he’s fine.
At the end of their meal, once their trays have been returned for cleaning, Luminara hands him a flimsi envelope.
He quirks his brow at her.
“It’s a message from Obi-Wan. He said you wouldn’t want to accept it but that it’s extremely important and for your eyes only.” She explains.
He gives her one long blink and says nothing.
“Goodnight Anakin, I hope that whatever is burdening you… that you confide in someone about it soon.” She says and leaves with an incline of her head.
He watches her go and then looks down at the flimsiplast in his hands. He grimaces but folds it into his robe and heads back to his quarters.
They feel a great deal more claustrophobic since he left, even though his shoulders slump with relief when he steps inside.
A large part of him doesn’t want to spend all his time sitting in this small, dark space doing nothing but tinkering. But he hardly feels like he can do anything else. Leaving means facing all of it.
How can he do that?
He pulls the note from his robe as he hangs it up and makes his way to his bed, sitting on the edge of it. He opens the envelope and reads the note with more than a little reluctance.
‘Anakin I know you likely do not wish to hear from me, so I will be brief. I have had time to think on it, and I believe I must present myself to the Council. We- I have kept what happened to you in the last weeks of the war from them for far too long.
You have not yet reported me, so I will do so myself. My crime is too immense. I should never have been allowed to get away with it as if nothing had happened for all this time.
The only reason I have is because I convinced myself you weren’t hurt. But now the truth is staring me in the face. My choices have hurt you greatly. I can’t bear the thought of you hiding away to avoid me, so you will not have to for much longer.
I plan to reveal all of the most important parts of my crime to them tomorrow afternoon in session. I will do my best to keep your privacy while I do so, though. I will submit to their judgement, and I do not expect mercy. I do not deserve it. I know that.
All I can say is this, I am extremely relieved you are finally free. You deserve nothing less. I tried and failed to free you. Another failure of mine. But in the end you have been released from the clutches of that infernal Sith artefact anyway. And I couldn’t be more glad of it.
Goodbye.’
Anakin chokes on his spit and drops the note as he coughs, trying to clear his airways. Once he’s no longer choking on nothing he grabs the note and skims it over, confirming he just read exactly what he thought he did.
“You suicidal, self-hating, overly guilt-ridden prick.” He hisses at the note.
He jumps off the bed and runs straight for his door without even a glance at his robe. He runs through the halls like a mad thing. Completely unacceptably for a venerated Jedi Knight, but he doesn’t care.
Something in his chest releases at him happily and easily shaking off the rules for his own wants. Readily doing what he shouldn’t to achieve what he wants to. That is real. That is him.
He reaches the door to Obi-Wan’s Master quarters in record time. Knocking too loudly for the time of night, but doesn’t care about that either.
He waits impatiently outside the door for a long minute before it opens and a somewhat ruffled and displeased looking Jedi Master appears.
Obi-Wan’s expression quickly shifts to shock at the sight of him.
“Anakin?” He whispers disbelievingly.
Anakin’s throat works as he tries to speak. He came here without a moment’s hesitation but now he’s faced with Obi-Wan it’s so hard to speak or know what to even do.
He clears his throat loudly and settles on asking, “Can I come in?”
Obi-Wan looks even more taken aback but he steps aside and gestures for Anakin to enter.
“Of course.”
Anakin walks swiftly into the room and stops a few paces inside. Whirling around to meet Obi-Wan’s gaze as the door closes and gives them privacy.
“You can’t do it.” Anakin immediately says. Orders maybe.
Which feels strange. When was the last time he tried to impose his will on this man? A long time ago, long enough he’d forgotten the feeling.
Obi-Wan shakes his head as the words register, face growing weary. Guilt clouds his Force signature, turning it thick and heavy.
“Master Unduli delivered her message then.” He sighs.
“You can’t turn yourself in.” Anakin repeats, gritting his teeth.
Obi-Wan gives him an incredulous, almost angry look.
“Of course I can! Why are you defending me from this Anakin? Surely you should want justice for what I’ve done to you.” Confusion and irritation colour Obi-Wan’s tone.
He probably should want that, Anakin knows. He’d wanted Watto dead when he returned to Tatooine. It was Jedi training and the fact that Padmé was with him, a Senator and his mission who he couldn’t let be caught in the ensuing fallout with the Hutts, that had stilled his hand.
But Obi-Wan is offering up his own easy and straightforward justice, why should Anakin prevent that?
He has no good answer. He just knows he doesn’t want Obi-Wan to simply disappear from his life forever. Imprisoned or whatever else might happen when he confesses. He’d be gone from Anakin’s life, not just in the immediate future. In the now where Anakin wants to avoid him while he tries to- tries to move on from what happened. But forever.
It’s unacceptable.
“No. No you won’t turn yourself in. I’m the wounded party and I’m telling you no. This isn’t the Sith damned collar talking this time. I’m telling you not to.” Anakin says forcefully.
Obi-Wan’s eyes search his as his brow furrows deeply and his lips turn downwards in a frown.
“Why?” He asks weakly.
“It wouldn’t fix anything Obi-Wan!” Anakin snaps back.
He turns away, running a hand through his hair as he does so. He groans in mild disgust at how tangled and greasy it is, and lets his hand drop. Clenching and unclenching his fists as he paces away from the Jedi Master a few steps.
“What would it solve? How am I supposed to feel better about any of this because you chose to throw your life away? How are things supposed to be better if you leave me?” Anakin doesn’t quite register the last sentence until it’s already left his mouth.
He baulks a little at his own words. He’s free, why is he still tethering himself to Obi-Wan?
A better question, how can he hope to continue on without Obi-Wan by his side? His other half in the Force? His other hand?
And the most poignant question of all –
Can he know himself to be free if he ever lets Obi-Wan close again? Can he ever trust himself again with Obi-Wan beside him?
That is honestly the question he hasn’t yet answered. The reason he’s hiding away. He’s hiding away from answering that. Because he’s scared.
It always comes back to the fear in his chest. The way Anakin still feels like a scared little boy underneath it all.
“How could you possibly stand to even look at me after all I’ve done to you?” Obi-Wan says, helplessness ringing loudly in his voice.
Anakin finally turns back around, finding his eyes.
Obi-Wan looks lost, aggrieved. It’s not a pleasant thing, and Anakin wants to make it better. Which causes a stirring of trepidation in his stomach, but it dissipates harmlessly when he realises that impulse doesn’t trump all others. Anakin wants his own comfort and understanding first. Obi-Wan’s second.
A selfish thing, but real.
It’s kriffing real.
And with that the knot in his chest loosens.
“Long before the collar poisoned everything you were already my guiding nav Obi-Wan.” He swallows the title of Master and replaces it with the older man’s name. He’s not quite ready for that right now, perhaps at some point in the future he will revisit the term of respect.
“Ever since I joined the Jedi you’ve been… right there. You’re like the other half of me, in the Force. That was always true. I just…” Anakin grasps for a way to phrase it.
“It’s hard right now. I’m-I’m trying to move on. Find peace. Whatever other Jedi proverb you want to say. I just need time. I don’t need to see you punished.” Anakin finishes, all the tension and fight going out of him.
“You don’t have to find instant peace. Or get over it. Or any of that Anakin. This was… it was more than any other emotional trial you’ve ever faced. I want you to process it for your own sake but not- not just to- don’t worry about what I’ll think as a Jedi. Work through it at your own pace. But don’t waste away in the meantime, please.” Obi-Wan responds.
“Are you still going to turn yourself in?” Anakin deflects and asks.
Obi-Wan huffs and crosses his arms.
Which is answer enough.
“I’ll eat. Properly. All my meals, in the refectory. But you can’t go to the Council.” Anakin bargains.
He’s hardly being reasonable, his posture is stiff and his expression hard. He’s not going to give ground on this. It’s really more blackmailing than negotiating.
Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and shakes his head in disappointment.
“This is hardly-” He protests.
“Obi-Wan.” Anakin interrupts, voice steely.
“And shower every day. And leave your quarters sometime to do something. Anything.” Obi-Wan, negotiator that he is, ignores the blackmail and makes a counteroffer.
Anakin is very familiar with his tricks, which means they don’t work nearly as well on him.
“Anything?” He says with false innocence.
Obi-Wan’s eyes grow flinty.
“Talk to Rex. Visit the mechanics in the hangar. Train in the salles. Stars, race on the lower levels for all I care! Something.” He snaps.
Obi-Wan losing his composure brings back that small curl of satisfaction Anakin has not felt in so long now. The corner of his mouth lifts. He’s missed getting joy out of riling Obi-Wan up, and he hadn’t even noticed the absence until now.
“It’s a deal.” He says.
Obi-Wan breathes harshly through his nose, looking distinctly unimpressed. But he doesn’t make any further arguments.
And now that their fight has come to a close Anakin is beginning to feel awkward standing in the dimly lit room with Obi-Wan. Not quite trapped, but uncomfortable.
His face or Force signature must give it away because Obi-Wan relaxes his arms, dropping them to his sides. And his face grows remorseful.
“You can flee if you wish Anakin. I won’t hold it against you.” He mutters gently.
Anakin moves one foot forward, shifting his weight and lifting his heel as he prepares to dart past the Jedi Master. He pauses for a fraction.
“I… I need time Obi-Wan. But that doesn’t mean… I don’t…” He stutters.
The lines around Obi-Wan’s eyes smooth as his expression gentles.
“I understand. I, unlike yourself, am very capable of being patient and waiting however long it takes.” Obi-Wan answers his unfinished thought easily.
Anakin’s shoulders relax and he nods once, and then he finally flees.
Obi-Wan doesn’t try to stop him.
But Anakin comforts himself with the reminder, the truth that Obi-Wan can’t stop him. That is the fundamental truth that matters most.