Chapter Text
Happiness is often found where you less expect it.
Obi-Wan let the heavy bag fall on the floor. He pulled at his robe for what seemed to be the umpteenth time since arriving in Tatooine. The climate of the world was ridiculously humid and hot. It was making his clothes stick to him like a second skin. He cringed, sticking his tongue out in disgust. He hated when Qui-Gon’s missions brought them to hot worlds.
“Obi-Wan, see if you can find the other holocamera.” Qui-Gon said with a frown as he inspected the small camera in his hands. “I fear this one is done for.”
“I told you it wouldn’t survive the rain.” Obi-wan said with a shrug. He leaned down to look through one of the bags on the floor. He knew he'd seen the other camera somewhere in it.
Qui-Gon let out a soft laugh before replying, “And miss the Katarn mating ritual? No, it was a well worth sacrifice.”
Obi-Wan sighed. It was always the same with Qui-Gon.
He hummed in triumph when he finally pulled the camera out of the bag. He handed it carefully to Qui-Gon. “Just don’t make a habit out of it. You wouldn’t want to spend all our credits buying new cameras.”
Qui-Gon smiled at the boy. He ran a hand through Obi-Wan’s short spiky auburn hair before grabbing the slim braid. He ran his thumb over it for a moment before tugging at it playfully. “Why don’t you go see if you can find a suitable place to camp.”
“Sure.” Obi-Wan picked his backpack from the ground while trying to recall as much information about Tatooine as he could.
There was little to know about the world. Faraway from the Core in the Arkanis sector of the Outer Ring Territory. It was technologically archaic as many other worlds in the Outer Ring. Its surface was covered by thick jungles and blue oceans, with plains that extended for thousand of kilometers[1]. There was barely anything interesting about it. If it enjoyed any tourism at all, it was thanks to it being the base of Jabba’s empire. The precious metals and exotic animals, made a good profit. The great distance from anything of interest kept it away from the eye of the Republic. It was the perfect place for the Hutt, and he’d made sure to shape it to his interest. The natives mostly dedicated to mining and husbandry. Those lucky, or unlucky, enough to live near the capital also ventured in more distasteful activities. No one half sane would come to Tatooine without business.
Sadly for Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon was one of the unfortunate souls to have business in the world.
The vast jungles weren't only an essential part of the natives’ lives, they were also sacred to many of them. On the other hand they were of little value to their Hutt overlord. The discovery of a deposit of Aurodium in one of the main jungles had prompted Jabba to start its clearance and exploitation. The natives were understandably outraged, and had raised in protest. Soon the situation had escalated to a bloodshed between the protestants and the hutt’s mercenaries. The conflict had been brutal on both parts. An understanding was reached when the commerce, and Jabba’s profit, hit a historical low. The terms for the cease of fire were that a specialist would be brought in to determine the viability of exploiting the jungle without destroying it. That’s where Qui-Gon entered in play. Qui-Gon was regarded as the galaxy’s best biologist. Both the natives and the hutt were confident that he would find an acceptable solution to the current predicament.
For Obi-Wan it meant some months in the uncomfortably warm world.
“Obi-Wan…” Qui-Gon said. He looked back and barely had time to catch the sunscreen Qui-Gon tossed at him. “Twin suns. I don’t want to see any blisters or rashes on you, young man.”
Obi-Wan beamed at him. “I know. I know.” He adjusted his backpack before opening the tube. “I’ll be careful.”
He looked around the town as he applied the screen. Mos Espa, as one of the world’s three spaceports, was one of the few commercial towns. The goods sold there were mainly provisions for travelers who stopped to refuel. It didn’t have any of the extravagant products you could find in Mos Eisley, which was rumored to be the center of the Outer Ring’s black market. Nonetheless, the town enjoyed its fair share of visitors and merchants.
An old lady struggling to carry a heavy basket of fruits caught his attention. He tucked the sunscreen in his backpack and moved to help her. As soon as she noticed him, she shielded the basket with her body, as if she thought he was there to steal it.
“I just want to help.” he reassured with the gentler smile he could muster. She eyed him suspiciously before handing him the heavy basket. He followed her to a small stand before putting it down on the counter.
“Thanks.” she said grabbing a Muja fruit from the basket. “It’s hard to find any kind offworlder these days.” she smiled kindly at him as she offered fruit. He grabbed his pouch looking for some credits when the old lady stopped him. “It’s a gift sweetie.”
“Thank you.” He bowed slightly, before taking the fruit. His cheeks burned like they always did when someone treated him like a child. Which happened far more often than he’d liked. He was fifteen but he was yet to outgrow his baby face. He was round in places he should be sharp, and scrawny in places that should be muscular. His height only added to his boyish look.
He cleared his voice. “Have you any idea of a good place to camp around here, Ma’am?”
The woman laughed a little at the honorific. “Aren’t you charming!” He took a bite of the fruit, in part to hide his blush but also because he was genuinely afraid of her pinching his cheeks. “If you follow the road north you’ll arrive to a deep jungle. With some luck you will find a place or a hunter to guide you.”
“Thanks, Ma’am.” He bowed again at her before taking his leave.
“Watch out for the wimp rats!”
True to her words, he soon found himself in a deep humid jungle. The heat was worse in there than it had been in the town. The air was humid and heavy, tinted with the scent of decaying leaves. Every so often he would need to stop to catch his breath and to pull away his sweaty hair from his forehead.
There was also mud. A lot of it.
He walked minding his steps but that didn't stop him from getting caught more than once in a puddle. Every time he fell in one, a part of him wanted to turn around and send the exploration to all nine Corellian hells. He was trying to get himself out of a particularly annoying puddle when he heard a bush rustle. His hand was instantly on his side, gripping the hilt of his vibroblade. He stared at the bushes without blinking, ready to spring into action. He wasn’t sure what kind of animals inhabited Tatooine, but he learnt long ago to not take any chances.
“Surrender! You have stepped into the almighty lord Skywalker’s territory!”
Of all the things he’d expected to come out from behind the leaves a loud blond boy wasn’t one of them. He barely had time to register any surprise when the boy, who was aiming a slingshot at him, assaulted him with berry shots. The surprise made him slip and fall into the puddle of mud.
“Oops, are you alright?” the noisy boy asked sounding more amused than apologetic.
He kept his eyes closed, releasing some of his anger into the Force. He would never heard the end of Qui-Gon’s lecture about laundry.The boy approached him cautiously. He was most likely a local troublemaker. He didn't want to scare or harm him, but he wasn't beyond some pay back. He remained still. When the boy was about to touch him he grabbed his hand and turned them around.
He smirked, now looking down at the trapped boy. “Well.” he started, feeling smug. “It seems you're my prisoner now. Oh, great Skywalker. ”
The boy blinked at him before laughing out loud. “You cheated. We gotta start over.” he said sounding too joyful for someone who had just been captured.
Obi-Wan frowned at the boy. That wasn't how he'd expected him to react. “That's funny. I'm fairly sure that prisoners don't get to pick the rules.”
The boy laughed again. “You have a funny accent. You aren’t from around here, are you?”
Obi-Wan released the boy. He was baffled by the fact that the boy was neither apologetic for the trouble he'd caused nor concerned by being captured by a stranger. He stood and took in the state of his clothes. He grimaced at how filthy he looked and felt.
“No, I’m visiting with my father.” he answered as he ran a hand through his hair. It was full of mud. Even his braid was caked in the slimy substance.
“Oh, are you a tourist? Are you from offworld? Have you seen the stars up close?” Skywalker asked, each question sounding more excited than the previous.
It was his time to blink at the kid. “No, yes, and yes.” He pulled his canteen from his belt. He took a sip out of it before pouring some on his head.
“Wow...” the boy replied in awe. His eyes shining with excitement. “Have you ever flown a ship?”
“A few times.” he answered nonchalantly. Qui-Gon wasn’t fond of flying. Obi-Wan had been in charge of flying since he was thirteen and he had helped around it before that.
“That's amazing.” The boy finally lifted himself from the mud. “I’m Anakin Skywalker. What’s your name?”
He hesitated for a moment before accepting the boy’s dirty hand.
“Obi-Wan.” No surname. A habit he'd picked up early in his life. People were less prone to inquire about a missing surname than they were to ask why he didn't hold his father's. Most of the times they would just assume he was a Jinn.
Qui-Gon had never been too fond of that habit, either because he considered it rude or because it defied his reasons for leaving Obi-wan his original surname. His father made sure to glare at him every time he did it, but he’d never openly confronted him about it. So Obi-Wan continued to indulge in his habit.
“So, what are you doing out here, Obi-Wan?”
“Being attacked by locals, apparently.” he said in a heavy sarcastic tone.
Anakin looked around them for something. “Did some else attack you?”
He raised an eyebrow at the boy, before letting out a deep sigh. He was beyond wanting to explain sarcasm to a kid. “I'm looking for a place to camp.”
“Oh. Then, today's your luckiest day.” the boy declared pointing at himself with his right thumb. “Nobody knows the jungle better than me! ”
“Sure... I bet they don't.” He clipped his canteen back on his belt. “But I prefer to work alone.” He bowed at Anakin and turned around ready to leave.
“Come on. I know the perfect place.” Anakin grabbed the older boy roughly by the arm and dragged him before he could protest.
“Anakin, wait!” he begged as he tried not to trip in his mud filled boots. He was too busy trying to keep in balance to avoid all the branches in their path. Regardless of his effort It wasn’t long before he tripped and fell. “What a wonderful way to start a trip.” he muttered for himself.
“Are you alright?” Anakin asked for the second time in a few minutes. Although, to the boy's credit, this time he sounded concerned.
“I’m fine.” Obi-Wan replied curtly. He patted his clothes in a most futile attempt to get some dirt out of them. He sighed when he saw that Anakin still looked troubled. “Didn’t you say something about a good place to camp?”
Anakin nodded enthusiastically. His early embarrassment already forgotten. Obi-Wan smiled despite himself. The boy would give Garen a run for his money with that much energy.
“Not a good place to camp. The best place to camp.” Anakin corrected him.
“Lead the way then.” The boy wasn't dropping his attempt to guide him. He might as well go along with it. He could always keep an eye for any suitable place while he followed Anakin.
“So, if you aren’t tourists what are you doing here?” Anakin asked, minutes into their trip. Obi-Wan had the feeling that he would be answering many questions that afternoon.
“My father is a biologist. He was asked to inspect the impact that the recent mining operations have had in the jungle.”
Anakin stopped abruptly. “The mine’s all the adults talk about lately. They say the jungle will disappear if we don’t stop them.” He looked sad when he turned to look at Obi-Wan. “Is it true?”
“I… don’t know. That’s what my father’s investigation will reveal.”
“So you’re here to save the jungle?” His eyes were shining with admiration when he voiced the question.
Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortable.
“From a certain point of view. Our job is to develop a plan to keep both the mining and the jungles alive. If possible. Whether this plan is followed is ultimately in Jabba’s hands.” Anakin’s was crestfallen at the words. “I’m positive he'll do something about it. The current situation brings no benefit to him.” He added quickly trying to lighten the mood.
“I hope you're right. I really like the jungle.” Anakin said in a gloom tone. “Come on, we’re getting close.”
“How long will you stay here?” Anakin asked after not even a full minute of silence. He was trying Obi-Wan’s patience with the interrogation.
“A few months at most.”
Anakin frowned at him. “But what about school? If you will be here for so long won’t you miss your classes?” The boy stopped and his face lit. “Does that mean you will go to my school now?”
Obi-Wan waved his hands in negation. “No, no, no. I don’t go to school.”
“You don’t? Why not? Everybody goes to school.” Anakin looked skeptical.
Obi-Wan opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to find the right words. “My father is my teacher. I learn what I need from him.”
“But what about the stuff he doesn’t know?”
“That, I learn by myself from holobooks.” Although that was a half truth. He did attend classes and seminaries in the brief periods he stayed in the temple.
“But, why would you do that when you can go to school?”
Obi-Wan sighed. How could he explain thousands of years of tradition in a few words? He probably couldn't. “I know it sounds strange to you. But it's our way.”
Anakin raised an eyebrow at him. “You know. You’re weird.”
“That's rich coming from the one who's so intent on keeping me company.” Anakin snorted.
“Weird and funny. I like you.” Anakin pointed at a cave to their right. “We have to go through there. But be careful it’s slippery.”
Obi-Wan touched the humid rock. He looked inside to what seemed to be the mouth of darkness. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Anakin gave him a sly smile. “Don't tell me you're scared.”
“Of course I'm not.” he said a little too brusque, a little too fast.
Anakin smirked at him. “What are we waiting for, then?” The boy produced a flashlight from his pouch and strolled inside the cave.
“Anakin, wait!” But the boy was gone. He felt frustration raise inside him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Letting go of his anger and fears into the Force.
“What are you doing?” He jumped in surprise at the boy, whose face was just centimeters away.
“You...” he said taking a deep breath, “will be the death of me.”
“Is not my fault you're so jumpy.” Anakin said defensively, looking just a little offended.
But it wasn’t his fault either. Qui-Gon was very zealous about his quietness and peace. It was how Dooku had raised him and it was how he had raised Obi-Wan. He wasn’t used to anyone as hyper and loud as Anakin. Not even Garen and Quinlan on their bad days were that overwhelming.
“Are you coming or not?”
“Yeah…” he said reluctantly. He grabbed a glowing stick from his backpack. “I mean. It’s not like I’m being given any other option.” he muttered under his breath.
“So you work with your dad?” Anakin inquired soon after they’d entered the cave.
“In a manner of speaking.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well. I help him, but I don't really work with him. I'm just sort of there.”
“But is it cool?”
Was it? It was hard to be always on the move. It was lonely, especially on those days where Qui-Gon was just too busy. But it was also fulfilling to help nature. It was exciting to see new places, to meet new people, to learn about new species. It was what he had done all his life and he couldn’t imagine himself not doing it.
“It is.” he decided.
“Must be cooler than being stuck in this boring planet.” Anakin said sounding annoyed. “Puddle.”
Obi-Wan jumped over the puddle. “Have you ever been offworld?”
“Never.” He felt bad for the boy. There was so much he was missing out. Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine a life stuck in one place. He’d been raised as a free soul and he would probably die as one.
“I can show you some holos if you want.”
“Really?” When Obi-Wan nodded, Anakin smiled brightly. “I take it back. You aren’t weird. You’re the best!” His lips twitched as he suppressed a smile. The boy was growing on him. He reminded Obi-Wan of a more hyperactive version of Garen.
“Look, we’re here.”
Anakin turned left and disappeared from his sigh. When he turned left the cave’s narrow passage widened and the hard rocks gave way to thick sand. Between the cave’s mouth the sea leaked, lighting the cave’s walls with a mixture of color produced by the reflection of the twin suns. On the horizon the clear blue sky of the planet stretched, interrupted only by the islands and rocks in the far distance. It was as if the cave had opened itself to shallow the coast. The beauty beyond it framed as a perfect picture between its walls.
“This is beautiful, Anakin.”
“Told ya, best place to camp.”
Obi-Wan inhaled deeply. He let the smell of the sea wash away the mud and perishing leaves of the jungle. Anakin was right. He couldn't have asked for a better place.
He put his head under the water and watched the mud mix with it. He ran a hand through his hair until he was positive the water had washed away most of the mud. He then took his braid and undid it. He cleaned it as best as he could before doing the same for the beads. He grabbed a small towel from his backpack and dried it before carefully braiding it back.
“Why do you have such a strange haircut?”
Obi-Wan sighed at the question. It was asked too often and he'd long grown tired of it. “This is the haircut given to every apprentice of the Jedi Order. It denotes my commitment to my training and the braid symbolizes my journey into adulthood.”
“What’s a Jedi order?”
“You haven’t heard of the Jedi legends?” Anakin shook his head. Obi-Wan gasped in disbelief. “The Jedi were some of the greatest heroes to ever exist. They were the peacekeepers of the old Republic. They were guided by the Force and it was their mission to guard the light of the universe. The Jedi Order honors the traditions of the old heroes. To be part of the order is to live as they lived.”
Anakin listened in silence. His eyes were shining with excitement when he asked. “What’s the Force?”
He patted the spot beside him. “Come. I’ll show you.”
Anakin diligently sat at his side while Obi-Wan searched his backpack. The older boy produced an old holobook from it. He rested it on his lap. Anakin leaned to his side to peek at it. “This is a Jedi using the Force.” He said as a holographic figure moved a Boulder without touching it. “The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all living things... ”
They were there talking about the Jedi for a long time. For Obi-Wan it was a welcomed change of pace. To the older boy’s surprise Anakin turned out to be a great listener. He was calm while Obi-Wan explained. He was eager to learn too, always asking when he wanted Obi-Wan to explain something further. Soon they ran out of Jedi things to talk about. Obi-Wan grabbed his travel diary and showed the younger boy his drawings of the worlds he'd visited.
“Your drawings are very neat.” Anakin said while running his index finger over a drawing of an Ewok.
“You need to be neat when you’re a researcher.” It was something that Qui-Gon often said to him.
He turned the next page and his breath hitched. It was a drawing he hadn’t seen in years. In the drawing an elegant woman had her arm raised supporting a beautiful bird. She was smiling gently at it, with almost closed eyes. On the background a man with long hair was holding a camera at her. He was smiling too, warm and open, as if there was no other place he’d rather be.
“Who’s that?”
“My mom.” Obi-Wan said softly. He looked up from the drawing and realized that the sun had almost hidden behind the horizon. “I have to go back. Father must be worried about me.” He stood and patted the sand out of his clothes. He filled the canteen and put his books back in the backpack.
Anakin followed him when he moved to leave.
“Did something happen to your mom? You look sad.” Anakin sounded almost afraid of asking.
Obi-wan glanced at him over his shoulder. “You’re very perceptive, for someone so young.”
Anakin scoffed. “I’m not that young. I’m nine already.”
Obi-Wan bit a smile. “Very old indeed.” Anakin eyed him suspiciously. Perhaps the boy was finally starting to catch sarcasm.
“So what happened to her?”
He didn’t dare speak again until they were inside of the cave, where the darkness could hide his pain. “She died two years ago.” He was proud of himself when his voice didn’t crack.
“I’m sorry.” Anakin was silent for a moment before he added. “She was pretty.”
“She was very strong too, and kind.” He felt his heart clench. Tahl wasn’t something he spoke about. She was a wound that was yet to heal in him. A wound that was still bleeding in Qui-Gon. Between them it was an unspoken rule not to mention her.
Her death had marked them both. It had made Qui-Gon distant and sad. It had made Obi-wan mature beyond his age. He went from being the boy that was being taken care of, to the young man that had to take care of his father.
He was surprised when someone hugged him from behind. “Don’t feel so sad. My mom says that when we pass out we become stars and fill other people’s life with light. I bet your mom’s really bright. Maybe we can see her tonight.”
He fell a knot form in his throat. He wanted to laugh at the boy’s idiocy. People didn’t become stars when they died. They passed into the Force. It was the natural cycle of life. He wanted to tell him as much. Instead of words a body wreaking sob left him, then another, until he was openly sobbing. He kneeled in the cave’s hard soil unable to carry his own weight. He wanted to laugh at himself. He hadn’t cried after her death, nor had Qui-Gon. It was their duty to accept her departure and honor the Force. He was dishonoring all she stood for by holding onto the pain and memories. But even so a few kind words from a foolish boy had broken down years of discipline in him. Thus Obi-Wan sobbed. He cried for his pain, for his loss, for his weakness, for the promises he had been unable to keep, for the loneliness that burdened his heart.
“It’s okay. You’ll be fine.” Anakin repeated again and again while petting his hair. The gesture made him sob louder. He was embarrassed at his need for comfort, which was so great that he had found home at the arms of a stranger. He was angry at his lack of control, so undeserving of the traditions he represented. But he was also infinitely grateful to the boy’s kindness.
They stayed like that until his sobs ceased. When he raised he was too numb to feel the pain or even the embarrassment.
“Thanks.” He said with a croaked voice and red eyes.
Anakin beamed at him and grabbed his hand. “Let’s find your dad. You guys must have dinner at my house. Mom’s the best cook in the galaxy.”
Qui-Gon was close to strolling into the jungle to look for his missing son. It was unusual for Obi-wan to take so long without contacting him. After so many hours his mind filled itself with unhelpful scenarios of what could be his boy’s fate. Fear started boiling in his stomach just at the thought. He wouldn’t survive losing Obi-Wan after losing Tahl. It was a life he couldn’t face.
I should have gone with him. He lamented.
Then he saw Obi-Wan’s figure appear through the town’s gate. His fear quickly turned into exasperation. His son's clothes were most likely beyond salvation. The robes were tattered and dirty. Dust and mud masked their once white appearance. He could even see some tears in the fabric. Obi-wan wasn’t in any better shape. His pinked cheeks were shadowed with dust and mud. There was a scratch on his right cheek that was begging to be disinfected. His short hair was sticking to his skin with sweat and dirt. He would need new robes and a long shower at the very least. He took a deep breath. What truly worried him was that despite efforts to cover it, Obi-Wan’s eyes were swollen as if he had cried not long ago. He couldn’t remember the last time he'd seen his son cry. Obi-Wan had never been one to cry over small things, not even when he’d been a toddler.
Qui-Gon grabbed his son’s braid, which was surprisingly clean.
“Did you at least find a place to camp?” he said, instead of the other many questions he wanted ask. He knew he would only get an excuse or a half true if he questioned his son.
Obi-Wan, who had been silently fidgeting during his inspection, nodded slowly. “I did. You’ll like it.”
“It’s the best place to camp.” The blond boy at Obi-Wan’s side assured him. Qui-Gon had so far opted to ignore the boy in favor of inspecting his son.
He kneeled in front of him. “And who might you be?” he asked playfully.
“I’m Anakin. Obi-Wan’s new friend!” He raised an eyebrow at that. Obi-Wan wasn’t particularly known for picking up strays or making friends. No, it was something Tahl and Obi-Wan had complained about him doing.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Anakin. I’m Qui-Gon Jinn.” He shook the boy’s small hand.
“You look really cool, sir. Are you a Jedi too?” Once again Qui-Gon was surprised. He glanced at his son, who avoided his gaze.
“So to speak. Did Obi-Wan tell you about the Jedi?”
The boy nodded eagerly. “He’s the best storyteller.”
Qui-Gon chuckled at that. “He certainly is.”
“Qui-Gon sir, can you and Obi-Wan have dinner at my house?”
“Do your parents approve of it?”
“Well…” he started, while shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I haven’t asked mom yet. But she will be fine with it. I can go ask her now.”
Qui-Gon put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, letting him know he wasn’t being reproached. “We will be honored if you would have us. You can go ask your mother while Obi-Wan helps me set the camp.”
“Wizard! I can totally do that!” The boy started running towards where, Qui-Gon assumed, his mother was. He turned around before getting too far away. “I’ll be back to help you with the camp before you know it.” And then he was gone.
“He certainly is high spirited.”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Garen is high spirited. That's a Wookie on sugar.”
The skywalkers’ residence was homely. The rooms were filled with only the necessary furniture. There was no decoration, apart from some holo-pictures of Anakin. It was a total opposite to the opulence of his grandfather's place, and it felt more like home than the Count’s mansion ever would. It reminded him of the temple and how their camps had felt with Tahl on them.
Shmi Skywalker was equally welcoming. She received them with open arms and a big smile. Qui-Gon and her had fallen into an amicable conversation ever since they’d arrived. It made Obi-Wan happy to see him interacting with someone outside of work or the order. It had been too long since that had happened.
For his part Anakin hadn’t been lying about Shmi’s cooking. It was the best Obi-Wan had in a long time. He struggled to keep himself from going for a second round, until Shmi herself had served him another portion.
“Growing boys need to eat, darling.” He blushed and thanked her.
After dinner, Anakin dragged him to his room. The boy’s room was full of metal scraps, starship models and all sort of technological trash. Anakin walked to one of his machines and pressed a few buttons. The room was suddenly overflowing with the pleasant notes of Jizz. It was a band Obi-Wan didn’t recognize, not that he was an expert.
“I made this one last month.” Anakin said shoving a T-325 X-Wing Model at him. “and I finished this one three months ago.” A Pellaeon class - Star destroyer was shoved at him then. He inspected both models carefully. He was marveled at how detailed they were.
“Did you build them from scratch?” Anakin nodded as he looked around his things. “That’s amazing. You’re very gifted.”
“But I suck at the schematics. I wish I could draw half as good as you do.”
“It’s just practice.” he assured the boy. He lay down the two models carefully. “Do you have any Delta class Starfighters.”
Anakin stopped to look at him. “Do you like Delta classes?”
“They are my favorite.”
“Mine too!” He went to a chest behind the bed and grabbed from it a half complete Delta-35 light interceptor class. “I’ve been working on this one for months. But I can’t get the wings right, so I’ve been stuck for a while.”
Obi-Wan inspected it closely. He was once again surprised by the boy’s craft.
“I think it’s pretty good. Do you mind if I take a look at your tools?” Anakin shook his head. He dropped his box of pieces and tools in front of Obi-Wan. The older boy took a good look at them. “Can you give me something to draw with?” Not long after he had asked, Anakin had a pad for him.
“Wow, that's pretty cool.” Anakin said after some minutes of letting Obi-Wan work.
“Thanks.” Obi-Wan beamed at him. “You could try something like this. I think it would make the wings lighter and more detailed.”
Anakin scribbled over Obi-Wan’s work. “We can break this part in two to make it more flexible.”
“Good thinking.”
He didn’t realize how long they had been there until Qui-Gon knocked at the door. “We’re leaving, Obi-Wan.”
He made his best to keep his disappointment out of his face. It’s been awhile since he had so much fun, but he didn’t want to cause troubles for Qui-Gon. He was sure his father had sacrificed enough time for his sake.
Obi-wan almost fell when he tried to take a step only to find that Anakin was grabbing his leg.
“Please, don’t leave!” the boy begged him “Don’t take him away, please!” he begged turning to Qui-Gon. “He can sleep here. He can have my bed. He can have my breakfast, but please don’t take him. We’re building a Delta class Starfighter.”
Qui-Gon looked just as surprised as Obi-Wan felt.
“Ani!” Shmi said from behind Qui-Gon with a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation. “You can play with him another day.” The boy looked a moment away from crying. He felt a rush of panic rise within him. He was awful at dealing with tears. Hypocrite, a part of him screamed on his head. The least he owed the boy after the evening's incident was some comfort.
Shmi moved to disentangle her son from Obi-Wan’s leg. Qui-Gon stopped her before she could. “That’s alright. Obi-Wan can stay if he wishes to.”
Suddenly all eyes were on him. He fought to remain calm under the expectant gazes. Was it really fine for him to stay and sleep there? He felt like he was intruding. He didn’t want to leave Qui-Gon alone, but he wanted to stay. He especially wanted to work on the Starfighter model. You can do that another day. Accused that other part of himself.
He was about to decline when his gaze locked with Anakin’s glassy blue eyes. The boy looked younger than he had during the whole day. He looked awfully lonely too. “I’ll stay.”
Anakin hugged him before starting a series of small jumps. “Yes!”
Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon and bowed his head slightly in an apologetic manner. He knew there were countless of things he needed to help with. When he looked up he was surprised to find Qui-Gon smiling warmly at him. Just for a moment his heart clenched in his chest. He couldn’t remember Qui-Gon smiling so openly since his Tahl’s dead.
“I’m sorry. He’s usually very well behaved.” Shmi said, not realizing that she had interrupted an intimate moment between father and son.
“Don’t worry. He’s been very helpful and polite to us. Besides, I’m sure Obi-Wan is enjoying himself too.” He glared at his father. He wanted to deny that he was enjoying the company of a nine years old, if just for the sake of his pride. He would be lying if he said so. “Well, I’ll take my leave.” He put a firm hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Be good.”
“Try not to burn down the camp.”
“It happened just once.” Qui-Gon said not sounding as serious as he looked, “And you, my impertinent son, promised not to talk about it.”
He was about to say “I promised not to tell mom.” But he bit his tongue before the words escaped him. “Once, is more than enough.” he said instead.
Qui-Gon laughed before leaving the room with Shmi.
“What’s Impertitent?” Anakin asked struggling with the word.
“Impertinent. It means I was being rude.” Obi-Wan sat back on the spot he'd been occupying minutes before. “Come on, let’s finish the schematic.”
Obi-Wan woke up to the low snoring of someone and an unfamiliar weight on his chest. He opened his eyes, fighting with his sleepiness. He found himself in an equally unfamiliar room. In his hazy state of mind he panicked.
“Pie.” a small voice whispered on his ear. He blinked at the sleeping form of Anakin. He almost chuckled. A warm feeling ignited in his chest. He wondered if that’s how it felt to have brothers.
He closed his eyes planning on sleeping some more. After a few minutes he heard the door open slowly. When he looked at the door his gaze locked with Shmi’s brown eyes. She smiled at him and motioned for him to follow her. He slowly disentangled himself from the sleeping boy.
“Did you sleep well?” Shmi asked once he was outside.
“I did, thanks.” It was in fact the best he had slept in a while. Real beds were a luxury in their lifestyle.
“What would you like to eat?” She asked, motioning for him to sit on the small table.
“Anything you’re having will be fine.” She nodded at that. “Do you want me to help? I’m a good cook.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t let you. You’re a guest dear, just enjoy. ”
“I insist. It would be my pleasure.” He moved to her side and rolled the long sleeves of his robe. “How can I help?”
Shmi hesitated for a moment before passing him a bowl full of batter.
“Just mix it and when it’s smooth add the berries.” Obi-Wan nodded, and started humming a tune that had stuck in his head from the night before. “Thanks for staying the night. I know Anakin can be very demanding and you must have been tired from the trip.”
He shook his head. “It was my pleasure Ma’am. Anakin is very likeable and smart.”
“He is.” she agreed, sounding as proud as any mother could be. “Sometimes I wonder where he got it from.”
Obi-Wan stopped mixing and said hesitantly. “If you don't mind me asking. What of his father?” He didn’t like prying, but curiosity was eating at him. He’d noticed that Anakin hadn’t mentioned his father even once since they’d met. Nor had his mother for that matter.
Shmi stopped her task and looked through the window at something Obi-Wan couldn’t pin point. The silence grew and Obi-Wan feared he’d gone too far.
“He died years ago.” she said, but something in her tone didn’t ring true. Obi-Wan nodded slowly. He wouldn’t mention it. That was as far as his curiosity would take him.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Ma’am.”
She smiled at him. “Would you mind if I ask about your mother?”
He shook his head. “It’s only fair. She died two years ago.”
“Then, I’m sorry for your loss too.” She patted him on the shoulder. “She must have been a great woman. Your parents have done an excellent job raising such a polite and mature young man.”
He felt his cheeks burn at her compliment. “Thanks.”
“Mom, I’m hungry.” Came the sleepy voice of Anakin.
Obi-Wan turned to looked at him. Anakin was rubbing his eyes, looking not too happy. When he finally lifted his gaze and saw Obi-Wan his face lit. He was shocked when they boy ran and hugged him.
“I thought I’d dreamed you.” He opened his mouth not sure what to reply to that.
“Ani. Go wash yourself. Breakfast will be ready soon.” Shmi scowled.
“Ok.” Anakin answered with a pout. Then he looked at Obi-Wan with a grin. “Did you wash yourself?” He didn’t let Obi-Wan reply before he grabbed his hand. “Come on, we can wash together. We even have hot water!”
He managed to put the bowl down before the boy dragged him. “Anakin, wait.” He said in pure exasperation. He’d never been comfortable being naked in front of others, nor was he comfortable admitting that he was a prude. “I-I don’t have clothes here.”
“Don’t worry about that. I have some clothes your size in my closet.” Shmi said. She hadn’t picked up his desperation.
“Bath time, bath time.” Anakin chanted happily as he dragged a clearly distressed Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at Obi-Wan's attire. The boy was dressed in civilian clothes, a dark red short sleeve shirt and matching dark pants. It looked odd on him. Not only because it was unusual to see him out of his traditional robes, but because the color was ill fitted for him.
“Don’t ask.” Obi-Wan muttered sounding every bit as annoyed as he looked.
Qui-Gon shook his head in amusement and resumed his task.
When Obi-Wan had been younger his secrecy had driven Qui-Gon mad. In many senses Obi-Wan was a parent’s dream come true. He was hardworking, obedient, very intelligent and vastly independent. He rarely did anything to upset neither him nor Tahl, but that on itself had turned out to be the boy’s biggest flaw.
Obi-Wan had broken his wrist when he was six, in an event still unknown to Qui-Gon. The ingenious boy had wrapped the injury with a self-made cast. He hid it under his long sleeve for three long days, not wanting to bother his busy parents. It had been Tahl who had surprised the boy while he fixed the cast on the night of the third day. A hurried visit to the healers and a bath in bacta had ensured the wrist’s proper healing.
Qui-Gon had never felt as much a failure of a parent as that day. He'd thought that Obi-Wan didn't trust them. That perhaps they had failed to made him feel safe. Even after a lecture about trust the boy had refused to share the events that had lead to his injury. It'd hurt him deeply and it had in turn hurt their relationship for the months to come.
It’d been Tahl who made him realize that it wasn't their fault and that Obi-Wan wasn't doing it to hurt them. It was who he was. Obi-Wan’s way of showing his love was to be independent, to help as much as he could, to carry his own burdens. Qui-Gon had never met someone more selfless than his son. It made him immensely proud to call himself his father.
He would always allow Obi-Wan his secrecy as long as he didn't suspect any injury.
“Can you help me set up the equipment? It's the only thing missing.” Obi-Wan nodded and moved to unpack the many bags of tools and equipment.
Qui-Gon had never been good with technology, that had been Tahl’s specialty. It was a blessing from the Force itself that Obi-Wan was competent enough with it. Otherwise Qui-Gon would expend most of his research time trying to make machines work.
“Father.” Obi-Wan said after many minutes of silence between them. Qui-Gon stopped organizing his papers and looked at the boy. Just for a moment he seemed like he was debating with himself whether to continue or not. “Thanks for allowing me to stay with the Skywalkers.”
Qui-Gon let out a heavy sigh. He had the feeling that wasn't what his son wanted to talk about.
“Haven’t we been through this already?” He neared Obi-Wan and put a hand on his shoulder. “You don't have to thank me or apologize for having your own life. I don't own your time. You're entitled to do with it what you please. You're your own person, Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan gaze fell to the floor. “I know.”
Qui-Gon squeezed his shoulders trying to reassure him. Obi-Wan looked up and smiled at the gesture. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
Once again the boy’s gaze fell to the floor. He bit his lower lip. “I..”
“knock, knock, knock!” came the energetic voice of Anakin from outside the tent. Obi-Wan turned his face to the entrance of the tent and blinked at it with a puzzled expression. As if he couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened. “Knock, knock!”
Qui-Gon couldn't help but stare at it too.
When Obi-Wan opened the tent’s entrance a smiling Anakin came into view. “Hey Obi-Wan! Wanna go swim with me?”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Do tell me, why you were making noises outside the tent?”
Now it was Anakin’s turn to look puzzled. “It's not like I can knock on the tent. It’s made of fabric you know.”
Obi-Wan raised his other eyebrow at the statement. “You could have called my name.” like a normal person would went unsaid.
“But I wasn't sure you were here!”
Obi-Wan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Forget about it. I don't even know why I bother.”
“Does that mean we can go out and play?”
Obi-Wan hesitated before shaking his head. Obi-Wan was awfully bad at saying no. “Sorry, I'm busy at the moment. “
Anakin was crestfallen for a moment. “Can I help you?”
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something but Qui-Gon quickly interrupted him. “That's a great idea. You can help him set up the rest of the equipment, once you're done you can go and play. ”
Obi-Wan glared at him. Qui-Gon could almost hear him cursing in the Force. He smiled back.
“Come on, Anakin.” Obi-Wan surrendered after a long sigh. “Grab those bags on the corner, and be careful not to drop them.” Anakin did as prompted and followed Obi-Wan outside the tent. Not before waving back at Qui-Gon and almost dropping the bags on the process, much to Obi-Wan’s dismay.
With the boys out of range Qui-Gon let himself drop on a chair and finally loosened his grip on his temper. He was annoyed at Anakin’s bad timing. Obi-Wan had been about to tell him something important and the boy had all but ruined the opportunity. Now, he was sure he would never hear about it. But he couldn't have just dismissed Anakin. Force knew Obi-Wan needed more time around young people. His son had the soul of an old man. Qui-Gon's work had always keep them away from civilization, far more often than any other Jedi. Mace and Yoda were always complaining about it.
“Socialize the boy needs.” Yoda would say every time the subject raised.
“Qui-Gon, you can't believe that forcing him into this sort of hermitage will do him any good.” Mace would argue every time they spoke.
What they wouldn't understand is that Qui-Gon had tried.
Qui-Gon had tried to make the boy socialize. He had offered Obi-Wan the chance to stay in the temple and be with his friends. Even Dooku had offered him a place in Serenno. All that ever had accomplished was making the headstrong teenager look half broken and offended. As if Qui-Gon was actually trying to get rid of him. Anakin was a blessing. He'd hardly ever seen Obi-Wan speak so much to anyone not named Bant. Obi-Wan was enjoying himself. Qui-Gon would do everything he could to keep it that way.
Obi-Wan winced at the loud shriek the old door made as Anakin dragged it open. “Just wait until you see the inside. You're gonna love it.”
Once they stepped inside Obi-Wan had to blink and rub his eyes in an attempt to make them adjust to the dim light. Anakin left his side wandering to force knows where. Then the small shack lit with a pale yellow light. Obi-Wan couldn't help but whistle at Anakin’s workshop. The small shack was nothing to behold on the outside. Rust had corroded the durasteel to a brownish appearance and made the structure look short from falling apart. The inside on the other hand was structured with newer pieces of metal. The original structure of the shack had been expanded into the ground making it much more spacious.
“Most impressive.” he admitted. He gently picked one of the prototypes on the nearby shelf examining it closely. It was a small sort of Droid. “What is this?”
“FLD-2[2], it's a flying camera prototype.” Anakin said proudly.
“Does it work?” Obi-Wan asked with more enthusiasm.
Anakin’s shoulders slumped. He shook his head. “I haven't been able to make it fly higher than my knees,” then he added with determination, “Yet.”
“That's a shame. You could try getting it into the market if it worked.”
“You think someone would buy it?” There was a hint of disbelief in Anakin’s question. It made Obi-Wan wonder if anyone had instructed or guided the boy before. He had talent worth encouraging, his design was still childish but there was latent potential in it. Obi-Wan had no doubt that with the right push Anakin could make it big in the Droid business.
“The size is very practical, with a good software to accompany it I can think of many uses for it. In fact, I'm sure dad would love to have one.”
Anakin face lit at Obi-Wan’s assessment. “Would they pay good?”
“Probably.”
“Enough for mom to drop her night job?”
Obi-Wan heart twisted at the question. It was asked with such earnest and hope. It also noted how little the boy knew of the world. Letting his mom out of one of her jobs was hardly what Obi-Wan would call a lot of money.
“Certainly enough for that.”
“That’s so wizard!” Anakin grabbed the little Droid from the older boy's offering hand. He was looking at it with a newfound adoration. “I'll make sure to finish it before the summer ends.”
He smiled. “I'll be looking forward to it.”
“So…” he started as he walked around the workshop, “What else do you have here?”
“Do you like racing?”
“Not particularly.” and that was putting it mildly. Obi-Wan didn't like high speed vehicles. Defying the common sense of speed limit for fun wasn't something he found appealing.
Anakin pouted obviously disappointed at the answer. “You just don't know better.”
Anakin grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled at it. He guided Obi-Wan through a wooden ramp to the lower level of the workshop. The wood made cracking noises under his feet and Obi-Wan gulped with anxiety. Just how strong was a wooden structure made by a nine years old? He was relieved when his feet touched solid ground.
From there he took a moment to look up and examine the place. Anakin or someone, had dug a perfect square into the ground of the workshop, which was at least one story deep. The ramp rounded all four walls of it until it reached the soil. From there he could see that the it was better constructed than he had first given it credit for. Looking at the lower level he noticed that he wall farther away from the entrance had been excavated far beyond the reach of the shack into the soil. The dirt roof above it was supported by structures that reminded Obi-Wan of mines. Under the expanded area were Anakin’s biggest prototypes.
Said boy was currently halfway inside of a prototype that seemed to be some kind of vehicle.
“What is that?” Obi-Wan was almost afraid of asking.
“A pod.” he answered still half inside the dreaded machine. “Haven't you seen any pod racing before?”
“No.” Anakin’s head emerged from within the pod only to gaps at Obi-Wan like a fish.
“You gotta be kidding.” He jumped away from the machine and whipped his hand across his cheek smearing it with black grease. “Pod racing is the best thing ever!”
Obi-Wan really doubted it.
“Come on, help me get it upstairs. You gotta try FP-3[3]. She's the fastest pod in all Mos Espa.”
Obi-Wan shook his head hurriedly. “No, I'm fine. Why don't we work on the Delta class model.”
“We can work on it later.” Anakin tugged at his shirt smearing some oil on it too. Thankfully, it was the dark shirt Mrs. Skywalker had given him and not his white Jedi robes. He would need to clean it thoroughly either way, but at least the dark color would hide the stain from Qui-Gon.
“I don't know, Anakin. Will the ramp even support the pod’s weight?”
Anakin laughed at him. “Of course it will. I have done it a million times.”
Obi-Wan wanted to say that a million times was probably an exaggeration. Instead, he pressed his lips together into a thin line. He got behind the vehicle and started pushing. He had a bad feeling about it, but the fastest he could be done with it the better.
One hour later Obi-Wan was on his knees drenched to his bones, puking Mrs Skywalker’s breakfast at the edge of the river.
Anakin had insisted that the best way to start Obi-Wan into pod racing was making him drive FP-3 down a ledge on the edge of the river. It was an understatement to say that it hadn't been Anakin’s most brilliant idea. Nor had it been Obi-Wan's most lucid moment when he agreed to it.
In the end Obi-Wan was just glad that he had all his bones intact.
“You're an awful pilot.” Anakin mumbled still grudging over the damaged pod.
Obi-Wan would have glared at him if he hadn't felt a new wave of nausea hit him. Anakin sighed and resumed rubbing circles on the older boy's back.
“Next time I'm driving, and you will be the copilot. ”
This time Obi-Wan managed to take a gulp of air and glare at the boy. “I don't think there will be a next time.” he said firmly with a raspy voice.
Anakin stopped rubbing circles and instead patted his back lightly. “Don't be silly, I can fix P-3 in a hunch. Plus Kitster was a worse pilot when he started. I'm sure you'll be fine.”
Obi-Wan groaned because that wasn't what he'd meant. He wondered if he could talk Anakin out of it. Somehow he doubted it.
Qui-Gon didn't even raise an eyebrow when his son entered the tent covered in grime, and looking exhausted. It had become a somewhat common occurrence since their arrival in Tatooine. Just as it was common to see Anakin strolling right behind him looking equally dirty but much more enthusiastic. Obi-Wan walked past him without a word. He let himself fall onto his mattress, not caring one bit how filthy he was.
“I'm never having children.” the teenager declared, much to Qui-Gon's amusement.
“I think it is a little too early for you to be pledging that, son.”
“I don't care. I won't.”
Anakin unceremoniously dropped at Obi-Wan's side. The movement made the mattress lift Obi-Wan a few inches into the air. When the teenager landed he let out a pained grunt. He turned and looked sharply at Qui-Gon, as if saying 'See what I mean?'
“Qui-Gon sir, is it OK if I sleep here tonight? Mom already said it's fine and so did Obi-Wan.”
“That's not what I said.” Obi-Wan protested, “I said it was OK if your mom and my father were OK with it.”
“So?” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at the boy before burrowing his face into the mattress. He was obviously beyond wanting to discuss anything.
“It's fine with me, Anakin. But first you two need to clean yourselves.” Qui-Gon stood from his desk and walked towards his dirty son. He pulled at the boy's arm. “Up, Obi-Wan.”
To the boy's credit all he did was give a weak grunt before he was on his feet. Always the obedient son.
“I race you to the sprint!” Anakin shouted jumping off the mattress and out of the tent.
“By the Force, I don't know where he gets so much energy from.”
Qui-Gon almost wanted to make a comment about youth, but Obi-Wan had always been fairly quiet and conserved. “Go, before he comes up with a punishment for the loser.”
Obi-Wan let out a small whimper.
Dinner wasn't all that different from the other night. Well, except for the fact that it was Obi-Wan’s cooking they ate. Or that instead of talking to Shmi, Qui-Gon was engaged listening to Anakin talking about his droids.
“Obi-Wan is right. I would appreciate this invention of yours. It would be useful for observing some animals.” Qui-Gon rubbed his chin. He would had loved to have something like that during their visit to Lehon. He'd relied on Obi-Wan’s tree climbing abilities to record the local bird nests. Their bacta reserve had suffered quite heavily on that mission.
“He said I could sell it and get money.”
“Oh, I'm certain you could. Once you finish the prototype I would gladly speak to some of my colleagues about it.”
Anakin’s eyes sparkled as he leaned forward. “Really?” when Qui-Gon nodded Anakin jumped from his spot on the floor, almost knocking his plate of food.
“Anakin!” Obi-Wan screamed with exasperation. He tried to still the boy only to have him spin around him.
“You two are the very best in the Universe!”
“What do you plan on doing with the money, Anakin?” Qui-Gon asked in amusement. The boy stopped spinning around a very annoyed Obi-Wan.
“I'm gonna pay the rent so mom can drop her night job.” Qui-Gon saw many emotions cross his son's face at the statement. He could feel a mix of sadness, hope and pride in the Force coming from him.
“Oh, Anakin.” He ruffled the blond hair lovingly. “You have a very kind heart.”
For the first time since meeting him he saw the boy blush. “Mom says we all should be kind to each other, and I like mom the best.”
Qui-Gon smiled. “She is a very smart woman. You should be proud of each other.”
The Skywalkers were a good family. Qui-Gon had no doubts that Obi-Wan would learn a valuable lesson from his time with Anakin. Hopefully he would leave the planet being a better man.
Qui-Gon picked Anakin’s forgotten plate and handed it to Obi-Wan, together with his own. The boy accepted it and started cleaning the tent for the night. Anakin looked like he was about to follow him and Qui-Gon stopped him.
“Come on. Let's get you ready for bed.”
When Obi-Wan finished with the cleaning, Anakin was already in pajamas and resting on one side of Obi-Wan’s mattress. Anakin rolled on his stomach and patted the spot beside him. “Come Obi, your bed is warm and cozy.”
“Of all people, I would know that better than anyone.” Obi-Wan whispered.
Obi-Wan undressed down to his underpants. When he dropped beside Anakin, his face was one of nothing but blissful happiness. He didn't even seem to mind that the younger boy had climbed onto him, face tucked on the hollow between Obi-Wan’s shoulder and neck. The older boy was out in less than five minutes. Qui-Gon smiled at the endearing scene. When Qui-Gon passed by the boys’ mattress Anakin looked up and waved at him. He then resumed his previous activity of playing with Obi-Wan’s braid.
“Try to sleep, Ani.” The boy nodded absently but didn't stop playing with the Auburn braid. He seemed to have taken a liking to it, as that wasn't the first time Qui-Gon had caught him playing with it. But then again, Anakin had taken a liking on Obi-Wan as a whole. He was fairly convinced that the boy was holding a boyish crush on his son. Too bad that Qui-Gon was halfway convinced that Obi-Wan was asexual. Or something of the like.
“Obi-Wan, it’s time to get up.” Qui-Gon voice called.
Obi-Wan didn’t move or answer. It had never been hard for him to raise early to meditate and attend his duties. On the contrary, he had always taken joy on the soothing presence of the dawn. But for the first time since he could remember, he didn’t want to go and face the new day.
It was their last day in Tatooine.
A month and a half had passed by like water through his hands. Qui-Gon's investigation had progressed as expected. To no one's surprise and joy, the jungle was threatened by the mine. Given all the evidence and pressure from the locals, Jabba’s mine operation was forced to stop. It hadn't been particularly hard to convince the hutt. Profit was the hutt’s language and it was evident that the new mine would produce more headaches than credits.
Despite his initial vehement dislike of the world, Obi-Wan had found himself liking it. At some point in his stay the unbearable hot days had become warm evenings. The pesky mud had become an amusing obstacle in his path. The loud boy had become an indispensable companion and their misadventures had become the time of the day he looked forward to.
“Obi-Wan, up.” He burrowed himself more into his covers.
“Obi-Wan…” There was a hand peeling the covers off him before gently running through his hair. “Are you ill, son?” he shook his head quickly. He hated hearing Qui-Gon's concerned voice.
“I'm fine. I'll be up in a moment.”
Qui-Gon's hand went to his forehead and stayed there for a moment before retreating together with the weight on the mattress. He dared take a look at the towering man and found him frowning.
Qui-Gon smiled when he found Obi-Wan’s gaze.
“I'll prepare us breakfast while you finish packing.” He gave a small nod and watched Qui-Gon retreat to the kitchen area. He struggled with the heavy covers, sighing when he was out of them. Most of their belongings had been packed the night before. All that remained were things they needed for the day. Obi-Wan started with Qui-Gon's mattress. He wrestle the old thing into submission, panting loudly after he’d managed to roll and secure it.
“We ought to get a Droid to do this.” He complained while wiping his brow a little too forceful.
“Nonsense.” Qui-Gon said in dismissal. “Those things aren't reliable. We would probably spend more money and time repairing it than it's worth.”
“No more than buying new cameras and fixing dropped equipment.” He said under his breath.
He yelped when a stream of cold water hit his head. “I heard you, young man.”
“And I'm the immature one.” he grabbed his towel and started drying his hair.
“You're the small one. We all know you have the soul of a 50 years old.”
“They must have switched us, then.”
Qui-Gon turned his head to look at him. The man was smirking although he was trying to look serious. “Cheeky brat.”
“That's master Jinn for you, son.” he said imitating Qui-Gon's own voice. Qui-Gon laughed hard at that.
“A cheeky brat indeed.” Qui-Gon said in a higher pitch than usual and with a heavy coruscanty accent. Obi-Wan gaped at him.
“I do not sound like that!” he exclaimed with indignation.
“You do.” Qui-Gon said still smiling.
“Do not.”
“Do so.”
“Got it! ” Anakin said opening the tent. The boy had stopped knocking somewhere between day 10 and 15.
“Morning Qui-Gon, sir.” He said as he ran towards Obi-Wan. “Look! Mr. Fer gave me his old fishing rod. Come on OB1, we have to try it on the upper stream.”
The boy's grin slowly disappeared as noticed all the packed bags.
“Why are you packing?” he asked in a very small voice.
“You didn't tell him?” Qui-Gon asked Obi-Wan incredulously. The tent suddenly felt smaller as Obi-Wan’s shame overwhelmed him. He dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to meet Qui-Gon’s judging eyes.
“I-I was going to… but he insisted on visiting the graveyard.” and looking for a Krayt Dragon, and swimming. It was an excuse, a bad one, even if it held some truth.
“You can't be leaving!” Obi-Wan flinched at Anakin’s loud voice.
He finally dared raise his gaze to look at the boy who had been a brother to him for the past 40 days. Anakin’s eyes were wide and glassy with unshed tears, turbulent with with betrayal and ire. His lower lip quivered violently and his hands had death grip on the finishing rod. Obi-Wan’s stomach turned in self disgust and guilt. It wasn't how he'd wanted it to go. He hadn't wanted to hurt him. He just hadn't found the right time to tell him before. He’d hoped to find a good moment some time before they left. But as Qui-Gon had put it: “It's often in our search for the perfect moment that we lose the best opportunities.”
This wasn't how he'd expected to learn that particular lesson either.
“You promised we would finish the Delta class together. You said you would help me improve my schematics.” Anakin said, but the words didn't carry the heat from before. Instead they were heavy with resignation. “You can't leave.” he finished almost in a plea.
“You know I can’t stay.”
“You lied.” Anakin snapped. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to defend himself, to explain that it wasn’t so. Anakin interrupted him with a fiery “I hate you!”
Obi-Wan flinched when the fishing rod hit the floor and cracked. Anakin was out of the tent before anyone could do or say anything. He bit his lips and tried to swallow past the knot in his throat. It wasn’t how he had hoped things to end. He turned and grabbed a pillow, ready to continue packing. A hand yanked him by the shoulder roughly. Qui-Gon looked as furious as Obi-Wan had ever seen him. His eyes were wild and his jaw was firmly closed behind slightly parted lips. He looked menacing. If it had been anyone but him, Obi-Wan would have been frightened. Instead he was surprised.
“What are you doing!”
“Oh, I don’t know, packing maybe.” he said bitterly, “Unless you expect the equipment to get hands and pack itself.”
Qui-Gon, who usually received his son's humor with open arms, frowned. “This is no way for you to behave.” He tugged the pillow in Obi-Wan’s hand with a little more strength than necessary. “You will go out and find Anakin. You will apologize to him and make up for your mistake. Then you will come back and spend the next week meditating over what you just did.”
Obi-Wan’s cheek turned bright red with anger. “Would you like anything else with that, an ingot of Aurodium perhaps, Lord Qui-Gon?”
Qui-Gon scowled at the title. He said in a low and commanding voice. “Go. The next time I see you, you’d better learned your lesson.”
He found Anakin sitting near the river bank. The boy was hugging his knees to his chest, chin resting on them. His hair obscured most of his face. But Obi-Wan didn't have to see his expression to know how angry he was. He hesitated before sitting at his side.
“Go away. I don't want to see you.” Anakin’s voice sounded wet and raspy. Obi-Wan once again felt guilty for hurting the boy.
“I'm-”
“Leave me alone!” Anakin said more forcefully this time.
Obi-Wan sighed. This was what he'd feared would happen. But he couldn't go back, not with Qui-Gon as furious as he was. Also not with Anakin hurting so much. He picked up a branch from his side and started drawing absently on the soil. He wasn’t good at dealing with those kind of situations. Bant had always been the one to mend all of her friend’s petty arguments with Garen and Reeft. It wasn't until he caught Anakin peeking at the drawing that an idea occurred to him.
He drew the schematic of a pot before writing “The pot we’ll ride next year” at its side.
Anakin looked at him for the first time. “You’ll come back next year?”
“I will. Dad and I already talked about it. I’ll stay the whole summer if you would have me at your home. If not-”
“Of course you can stay with us.” Anakin interrupted him. Then the boy looked down. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Because I’m a coward. He mentally berated himself. “Some things are just that hard to face.” Anakin looked puzzled. Obi-Wan waved a hand dismissively. “You’ll understand once you’re older.”
Anakin pushed him playfully. “Because you're that old.”
“Older than you for certain.”
Anakin pouted. “I want to hear you sound so smug when you find out that I’m taller than you next year.”
Obi-Wan scoffed. “Keep dreaming.” There was no way the boy would outgrow him in a year… right?
Anakin moved closer to him, until their thighs were meeting. He hugged Obi-Wan tightly. “I'm sorry. I don't hate you.” He said with his face burrowed in Obi-Wan’s neck.
“I know.” He returned the hug hesitantly. “I’m sorry too. I wish we had more time.”
“When are you leaving?”
“This afternoon.” He answered guiltily.
Anakin pushed him back. For a moment Obi-Wan thought he would throw another tantrum. Instead Anakin was looking at him with determination. He blushed at the proximity and intensity of the gaze. He was about to ask what had gotten into the boy when Anakin suddenly stood.
“I have something to do.” he said with a voice filled of as much determination as his eyes. “I'll catch you up in the platform. Don't you dare leave before I arrive.”
“Wait, Anakin!” He was left behind with a stretched hand grasping for the boy who no longer was there. He let a sad smile slip. It was always the same with Anakin and Qui-Gon. He was always the one chasing behind them. He wondered if one day he wouldn’t be fast enough to catch up to them.
“Obi-Wan, we must leave.” Qui-Gon said again.
“I know.” He replied, shifting from one foot to the other. “Just give him a few more minutes. He said he would be here.”
Qui-Gon sighed. He was happy that Obi-Wan had managed to patch things up with Anakin. But Mace was being a pain, calling every fifteen minutes to check if they had already left. “Ten more minutes, young man.”
“Thanks.”
He sat down on the landing ramp, resting his aching knees. He was truly glad his son’s mood was back to normal. He hated arguing with Obi-Wan, it reminded him too much of his time with Dooku. Sometimes he wondered if he was being too hard with the boy, just like he'd felt that Dooku had been too hard with him. Before, he'd counted with Tahl to mediate their arguments. Now, he felt as if he was stumbling in the dark waiting for the slip that would push Obi-Wan away from him.
“Hey!” Qui-Gon focused on Anakin’s running figure. The blond stopped in front of Obi-Wan panting with red checks. “I'm sorry I'm late.”
“Took you long enough. I thought you had finally gotten yourself caught by those pesky Jawas.”
“You're never letting that one go, are you?” Anakin asked embarrassed.
Obi-Wan beamed. “Oh, you'll be hearing about it for a while.”
“I feel like I'm missing something.” Qui-Gon said. Both boys laughed at him.
“Here, Qui-Gon sir.” Anakin passed him a bag he’d been holding. “Mom baked some Muja fruit muffins for you.”
“Give her my thanks.” he said as he grabbed the bag.
“What's up with the backpack.” Obi-Wan asked suspiciously. “You aren't about to declare that you're coming with us, are you?”
Anakin laughed. “You wish.” He dropped the backpack on the floor. Qui-Gon watched him curiously as the boy took a small Droid from it.
Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “I can't possibly-”
Anakin shrugged. “It's not like it's finished yet. I modified it to hover at head’s height and follow you around. It's not much, but at least you can record what happens around you.”
To demonstrate, Anakin pushed a button on the Droid. The small Droid came to life, raising a meter off the ground. It looked at its surroundings, stopping to scan each human. When it scanned Obi-Wan the Droid chirped happily before approaching the red headed boy.
“Woah! Stay away.” Obi-Wan said, pushing the small Droid away from his face.
“This is too much, Anakin.” Qui-Gon said feeling the need to intervene. “You wanted to sell this. We can't possibly take your prototype.”
Anakin shrugged. “I'll make a new one. I have a new design in mind, anyway.”
“Get it off me, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said exasperated, trying to keep some distance from the small Droid.
“Plus it's sort of his too. He helped me get the parts for the modification.” Qui-Gon sighed. He knew the boy enough to know he wouldn't give up.
“Very, well. We'll take it with us.” he agreed reluctantly. “I'll see if we can promote your work with it.”
“Thanks, Qui-Gon sir.”
“Anakin! Get this thing off me, now.” They turned to see Obi-Wan trying to catch the small Droid without success.
Anakin laughed at the scene. “D-4, come here boy.”
The small Droid whirled around at the mention of its name. He looked at Anakin as if assessing him. Then he proceeded to hide behind Obi-Wan’s back.
Anakin frowned. He tried to approach the Droid. For every step he took the Droid flew further away. “Uh, oh.”
“I don't like the sound of that.” Obi-Wan said.
“Maybe I shouldn't have used the old R core we found.”
Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face. “Why am I not surprised? Just tell me it won't follow me to the bathroom… or keep me awake… or-”
“It should be fine.” Anakin reassured him, not sounding too convinced himself. “You should be able to train it… in theory.” he muttered the last part.
Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon a desperate look.
“Look at the bright side,” Qui-Gon smiled. “at least you don't have to feed it.”