Who: Anakin and Obi-Wan What: Obi-Wan reveals his feelings about what happened on Mustafar When: Recently Where: Near Obi-Wan’s cabin Status: Complete Rating: PG-13, TW for Violence (Discussions of)
The moment he turned away from his Network conversation with Anakin, Obi-Wan began to meditate as if his life depended on it; and the way his heart was pounding in his ears, it felt as though it might. Additionally, the room was turning and his stomach felt sick. This physical anxiety, it surprised him, truth be told. Over the years, he’d spent so much time contemplating the events on Mustafar, that Obi-Wan had come to believe he’d made peace with his final decision. Now, it was very clear that had been some form of delusion.
He sat on the floor, measuring his breath, until Faiza came home. And when sleep eluded him, he meditated through the night. He centered his thoughts on the catharsis he hoped he and Anakin could reach together, and tried not to think about those final fiery moments by the river of lava.
Anakin tried not to dwell. He knew obsessing over whatever it was Obi-wan was going to tell him was only going to make that sick feeling worse. The last time Obi-wan had something to tell him he had dropped the ‘Padme dies, Anakin falls’ bombshell and while he couldn’t blame his former master for warning them, especially given Anakin’s temper, hearing that there was something else didn’t exactly leave him feeling so great. But, no matter how anxious he was about what Obi-wan had to say he still readied himself that morning and headed over, Obi-wan deserved that much.
He didn’t knock or ring the bell when he arrived, he didn’t have to. He simply mentally nudged his master with the force, which was easy enough given that he could feel Obi-wan and his emotions as soon as he had gotten out of his car. His master’s feelings weren’t a comfort either, but he hadn’t exactly expected the man to be bright and cheerful, Anakin himself certainly wasn’t. The fact that when he pulled out his phone to send Padme a text that he was turning off his phone for a while he didn’t send it with a kiss probably spoke more volumes about his attitude that morning than anything else.
Rather than go in to work at all, Obi-Wan had elected to stay at home and await Anakin’s arrival--though considering that his projects at the ranch were less than a mile’s walk away, it wasn’t a difficult decision to make. Besides, he made his own schedule.
But whereas the night before had been spent quieting his spirit through chant and breathing, the morning offered a method all its own. There was no better meditation, in Obi-Wan’s opinion, than a physical discipline. At work, it was hammering nails and sanding edges. It was as practical and as it was effective. At home…
Well, he’d taught himself how to make pancakes. The art, and it was an art, had always eluded him. Cooking in general was a skillset he could not seem to master, occasionally to his embarrassment. Given the grave nature of what he intended to reveal to Anakin, flipping pancakes might appear trite or even inappropriate. But as far as Obi-Wan was concerned, it had served to hone his discipline, focus, and it had ultimately kept him calm all morning long. It had been an excellent form of meditation. One he might even recommend in the future.
Now that Anakin was here, Obi-Wan was as prepared as he possibly could be, given the circumstances. He had a story to tell, one that would be incredibly painful for himself personally. The rest hinged on Anakin’s reaction.
He placed his spatula on the counter and walked to the front door.
Anakin tried very hard to not shrink away from the door when Obi-wan greeted him, he did take a noticeably uneasy breath and he offered the older man a half smile. “Good morning, Master.” He wanted to bolt, as if that would do him any good. He knew Obi-wan was likely only going to tell him what he was going to be seeing soon in his own dreams anyway and really a part of him was grateful for Obi-wan’s willingness to share what he knew. And really, as much as Anakin resisted any form of therapy for anything, he took a lot of comfort from discussing things with his former master from his dreams.
“How are you?” Likely as churned up and disquiet about the whole thing as Anakin himself was but he wasn’t about to say that outloud.
In response, Obi-Wan forged a smile. It failed to touch his eyes, but it wasn’t really meant to. After all, how much reassurance could he offer in honesty? This was going to be incredibly difficult, close to impossible, for both of them.
He held the door open. The house was full of the smell of pancakes, but they hadn’t been for eating and Obi-Wan wasn’t hungry, and so he had already put them out of his mind. “Would you prefer to stay here? Or...we could walk outside. It might be best to take advantage of the cheerful weather.”
The house smelled wonderful but Anakin wasn’t interested in food for the time being. Hadn’t been interested in it since he agreed to talk to Obi-wan. The possibility of bad news was a great appetite killer, and for someone like Anakin who loved to eat and seemingly had an endless appetite it was just another reason getting so churned up wasn’t an enjoyable thing.
“That depends,” He pointed out. He wanted to be optimistic, he really did. He wanted Obi-wan to tell him something unpleasant but not horrible and then to take a deep breath and get back to his life. But he rarely got what he wished for. “You think I’ll be okay to hear about whatever this is around breakable things?”
In response, Obi-Wan stepped outside and closed the door behind them. He looked Anakin in the eye and allowed the moment to settle before starting on the wooded, well-trod path that led from the cabin to the ranch. The mile of open air between the two points was soon to become an emotional battlefield. Obi-Wan just hoped the trust he had fought to rebuild wouldn’t be among the casualties.
“Anakin, when you first arrived, I swore I would let the dreams take their course and that I would never share anything with you, or Padme, before you saw it for yourself. But...I’ve gone back on my word several times. After a while, it seemed better to prepare you for what you might see...” The longer Obi-Wan spoke, the more apprehensive became his tone. He thought through his words carefully, slowly. “And this is no different. It’s something...that’s haunted me, on a deeply personal level.”
That was a bad sign. Anakin found himself taking a deep breath and slipping his hand into his pocket as they walked, trying desperately not to figure out what Obi-wan was going to say to him before he said it. Guessing would just bring him more anxiety and he really did hope that he had a worse imagination than what had happened in their shared dreams. Of course Obi-wan’s tone didn’t ease any of his concerns.
“Master,” Anakin was a knight in his dreams, well on his way to becoming a master, but as far as he was concerned Obi-wan would always be his master and he had more than earned that title. “No matter what you have to tell me, it’s not going to change how I feel about you. You’re my brother. If it’s bad I’ll just have to come to terms with it.”
Obi-Wan came to stop beside a tree. His legs suddenly felt heavy, as if they were planting themselves in the ground. He quinted skyward, left, and right: an attempt to regain some balance, and lift him from the sensation of lowness.
“You ought to hear me out first, before you make any promises.” Obi-wan took a breath before continuing. “Does the name Mustafar mean anything to you, yet? It is a planet in the Outer Rim.”
“Mustafar?” Anakin had to think a moment. He had been to many systems and planets in his dreams and there were many more that he knew of thanks to the war. “Techno Union world. I think Ahsoka and I went there. Chasing Cad Bane I think, but it’s fuzzy, I can’t even say I remember what it looks like or what he was doing there or how that ended.” He resisted the urge to reach out to his Master, instead watching him closely. His estimation of what Obi-wan was going to tell him dropping further if that were even possible. “What about it?”
“I…” Obi-Wan looked up into canopy again, silently working his jaw as if the words themselves were hesitant to continue onward. “I followed you…” Again, the words faded into a choked silence.
Dammit, man. Out with it. Out with all of it. You must have wished--no, prayed--for this opportunity to face Anakin a thousand times. Clamming up now is utterly unacceptable.
Find your voice, man... Obi-Wan swallowed and made a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a sigh as he cleared his throat. It was a little like a car motor attempting to come back to life after stalling. “When you decide to follow Palpatine, traveling to Mustafar is the first mission you undertake. He had arranged for a large group of Separatist leaders to meet there… and apparently it was your job to dispatch them, as I pieced together after the fact. By the time it reached that point, Padme was gravely worried about you. As was I. And Padme being Padme, she took it upon herself to follow you there. And I took it upon myself to follow Padme.”
“No.” he said to himself at the mention of Padme, almost feeling the earth spinning around him. Obi-wan had said that she died and Anakin for the sake of his own sanity had tried not to fixate on it, but it was still there in the back of his mind. He hadn’t wanted to face it and thankfully his dreams had been kind so far and showed him no hints of her death, at least not yet and he knew better than to think they would stay that way. But Padme worried about him, going after him, it didn’t sit right with him, neither did Obi-wan’s following her. It was all very wrong and destined to end very badly.
He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing hard. “Does she die on Mustafar? Am I the one that-” he couldn’t finish that sentence. “What happened?”
"She doesn't... No, she doesn't die there. She confronts you. But by then, your desire for power had overridden everything else." Obi-Wan paused. "Or so it seemed. I had to make decisions very quickly..."
Fog gathered in his eyes. Obi-Wan looked down at the fresh, cool earth beneath his feet. Such a far cry from the setting of the story he was trying to tell.
"Yes. You did attack her.” He spoke solemnly. “It was like watching you go mad."
Anakin felt like he had been kicked hard in the stomach. It couldn’t be right. He couldn’t have done that, he tried to tell himself that it was wrong but deep down he knew it wasn’t. Obi-wan wouldn’t make up something this awful, not when he too seemed to be having such a hard time with it all. But that wasn’t the end of it, and while he really didn’t want to keep listening he knew he had to hear it.
He had gone pale and his expression was pained, the mechanical whirring and clicking accompanying his robotic hand’s clenching and and unclenching giving away Anakin’s feelings no matter how desperately he was trying to hold them in. “What did you do, Master?”
For so many years, Obi-Wan had told himself that he’d done what he had to do. It was a powerful statement, words that could heal his fractured spirit, glorify the Jedi and their Code; but it left him feeling cold instead. It felt more like some sort of excuse. What he had to do. Occasionally, the words felt as twisted as the sad events that had brought him to face Anakin on Mustafar.
Obi-Wan worked his jaw. Again, it seemed the faculty of speech had left him, except for a quivering sound in his throat. He stumbled forward as he suddenly reached out to Anakin, taking his padawan and friend by the shoulders. He gripped tightly and the veins in his arms became visible.
He didn’t have to force himself to look Anakin in the eye. Obi-Wan was locked on. “I was determined to kill you! I thought it was my duty! I was the only one in a position to stop you!”
Anakin frowned deeply at Obi-wan’s words but reached out to help him steady himself. It was getting worse by the second but they needed to get through it, Obi-wan needed to get it out of his system. Anakin probably needed to hear it too. When he dreamed of it he would wake up beside Padme and he didn’t want to take out what he might be feeling after it on her. Still, he wished there was an easier way for the both of them.
“Did you-?” Obi-wan seemed shaken enough that he pulled the older man fully into his arms. They didn’t hug all that often in his dreams, mostly when Anakin had been a boy and needed the comfort or when he had to confess something to his master, usually something to do with his prophetic dreams. But now, with his master struggling, it seemed right. “If you killed me then did the right thing. If I did that to Padme, I… I wouldn’t want to live.”
He felt the air expel from his lungs with a shudder. Now, Anakin became the only thing keeping him upright. “No. You were at a disadvantage and I could have. Instead… all I can remember is you leaping to attack anyway. I swept you with my lightsaber. And then, you were on the ground.” Obi-Wan could also remember the sickening smell of charred flesh, a stench that was all too familiar when one’s weapon of choice could burn through anything. But that time, it had been different. That time, it had been Anakin.
Obi-Wan tightened his hold around his padawan, just to prove to himself that he was solid. “Arms and legs...clean off. The lava creeping toward you. It was the most horrific…” He choked. “The fire everywhere… The heat. It seemed like the world was melting. And I...I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go any further. I couldn’t kill you because I loved you, and I should have killed you for that very reason. Instead, I walked away.”
“You… You leave me to burn?” It came out of Anakin’s mouth before he was aware he had been thinking it. It really wasn’t the most diplomatic way he could have put it, but Anakin was never the diplomatic type anyway and really the shock of it all negated what little brain to mouth filter he had. “I- I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry that you had to be put into that position. I don’t know if I could-” But clearly at the time his desire had been to kill Obi-wan, even if it did seem unfathomable to do so to him now. It he could attack Padme then he could kill Obi-wan.
The whole thing was sick and awful and wrong and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it beyond heartbroken.
“Is that it then?” He held even tighter to his master, not sure if he was just unwilling or unable to let him go. “All that talk of prophecy, about bringing balance to the Force, and I end up burning to death on some planet barely anyone remembers? That- that can’t be right.”
Obi-Wan pulled away, loosening his grip on Anakin. He rubbed his arms, which still felt heavy, and then rubbed his eyes, where tears had more than budded. His lids were rimmed with red. Breath came with a shudder. “You didn’t die. I don’t know how you survived. Maybe the Force was at work in a way I can’t begin to comprehend. What I suppose happened was that Palpatine found you. It wasn’t until years later that I learned you were still alive. I went to Tatooine to watch over Luke… I considered raising him myself, but...”
His voice trailed off and he shook his head. “I couldn’t. But keeping Luke safe was all I had left to give you and Padme, after everything I’d done.”
A chill passed through him and he brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck in hopes of preventing more. He already knew what it was like to heal from burns, his had been severe but that had only been one arm. He couldn’t imagine being burned all over, especially after losing those limbs. How did one recover from that? How would one want to recover from that? He really didn’t want to think of his existence after that though he was sure he would see it soon enough.
His brow was furrowed deeply and his eyes fixed on the ground, after a weighty sigh he spoke quietly. “Thank you.”
Confused, Obi-Wan’s own heavy brow attempted to imitate Anakin’s expression, but it was if they couldn’t quite hold it. His eyes, perhaps, were too full. He found himself blinking instead. “Thank you? For… telling you?”
If not, then why? Was Anakin attempting to find some attempt at goodness in what he’d done? Some reasonability in a notoriously reasonable man? Out of respect for his master? It all left a bitter taste in Obi-Wan’s mouth. His spirit was still aching. Even if a weight had been lifted, it was one he had carried through two lifetimes.
“For everything you did and tried to do for my family.” Anakin didn’t have it in him to hate Obi-wan, not here. There was no corrupting force here, he didn’t have the pain and trauma that the dream version of himself lived with, didn’t have to live knowing that he was actively feared simply because he existed. It came through the dreams sure, and he often felt his dream’s self’s frustrations, but what he also felt a lot of was the love of that version of himself. There were three people that version of Anakin Skywalker loved, he knew those people here and while he lost one of them he was determined to hang on to the others, Padme and Obi-wan meant the world to him.
From what he could see and what he had heard he knew Obi-wan felt the same.
“It’s awful and I don’t look forward to seeing it, but- But I know you did everything you could. You tried to save us and when you couldn’t you protected our children. None of it was your fault, what I chose isn’t your fault. And maybe, maybe you should have killed me, but I can’t blame you for not doing it. I know I couldn’t if I were in your shoes.” He looked up at his master. “But you can’t blame yourself for what I became.”
These words weren’t foreign to Obi-Wan. He could hear the echos of others in his past, both deep and recent. He couldn’t, shouldn’t blame himself for what Anakin became, and yet Obi-Wan carried the albatross around his neck with an iron chain. What difference could it possibly make to hear them one more time?
All the difference in the universe, because by right it was only Anakin who ever could have said them. Everything before had been no more than lip service, although Obi-Wan knew his friends had meant well. It wasn’t possible for him to hear them. As for his own voice, it was lost somewhere deep within his chest. But the tears he’d been holding back finally began to roll with an intense feeling of release, like coming up for air after swimming to the bottom of the ocean.
Obi-Wan nodded as too many expressions to count passed through his typically stealy features.
Anakin reached out his hand and put it on Obi-wan’s shoulder, squeezing it it reassuringly. He didn’t doubt that his master had carried that pain around with him for far longer than he needed to, had probably punished himself more than he ever deserved. No matter what Obi-wan may have thought of himself Anakin knew he was a good man and a good master, he had been a father and a brother when he had needed him most. It wasn’t right what his dream self had put him through and after all that the man deserved a little peace.
The hand wasn’t enough though and he pulled the older man into a tight hug, “I love you, Master. I promise, I won’t ever put you in that situation here.”
“And I love you. I should have said it more often when I was raising you.” Even if Obi-Wan had the smallest of doubts that it was a promise Anakin could really keep, he put them aside. The scales were tipping in favor of hope, now. The old Jedi’s smile finally settled, in spite of the tears. There was no place for a cynical old man here.