#obikintober

Of course, he had known Obi-Wan’s birthday was coming up for a while. He always remembered his master’s birthday, but this was a big and important one—number 40. And a big, important age required a big, important party.

Several months prior, as they lay in bed one ridiculously early morning, Obi-Wan intertwining his warm, calloused fingers with Anakin’s sleek black and gold fingers, Anakin reminded him quite rudely.

“You’ve got a birthday coming up…” he said, apropos of absolutely nothing.

“Hmm?” Obi-Wan replied. Anakin felt the rumble of the noise in his chest where his ear laid right over the older man’s gently-thrumming heart. “Oh, well, yes I suppose I do.”

Anakin untangled their hands momentarily to run his fingers down Obi-Wan’s wrist and forearm then back up to his palm. “I can call you ‘old man’ for real soon,” he chuckled.

“What do you mean for real?” Obi-Wan scoffed as he pulled his head back to look at Anakin. Anakin already knew the look that would be on his face without having to look, so instead he just buried his face in his chest and smiled. Obi-Wan tried to roll him back by pulling on his shoulder, but the younger man wouldn’t budge. “You’ve been wounding my delicate pride with that nickname for years, that feels pretty real to me.”

“Well, now you’re forty, so you know... old,” Anakin said with a giggle as he suddenly jumped out of bed before Obi-Wan would make him pay for the comment. He felt a pillow hit his back before he disappeared into the fresher—no doubt a Force-enhanced throw. He would scold Obi-Wan for it later.

He smiled at the memory. He had at least known exactly what he wanted to get Obi-Wan, so he had been able to set those wheels in motion then. He felt good about getting ahead of the game in something… even if this party felt behind schedule. He wasn’t sure now that Vos would ever return with the gift. And if he didn’t… Well, Anakin hadn’t thought of a backup. Because this was supposed to work.  

He scowled as he put his hands on his hips. A Nautolan initiate in a mechanic’s jumpsuit—Jaar, he thought his name was—caught his scowl as he passed, then increased his pace as he walked away with wide eyes. Anakin was sure now he’d be the subject of some youngling gossip. Well, they weren’t invited to Obi-Wan’s party.

He finally breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the Skorp-Ion closing in on the Temple hangar. Vos came in hotter and faster than was probably absolutely necessary, but Anakin admired the hell out of it. Even though Quinlan drove him crazy, he was a daring pilot—though he would never tell him that. How Obi-Wan could stand to fly with either of them defied comprehension.

Anakin took several steps back as he landed close by and exited the ship with a jump. Anakin rolled his eyes, Show-off.

“I get a welcoming committee? And it’s the Chosen One himself!” Quinlan said with a laugh, arms spread wide. Anakin’s eyes shifted to the package Quinlan held in his left hand. “How did I get so lucky? Though, you know I would have preferred your old man.” The Kiffar waggled his eyebrows as he came to stand face-to-face with him.  Anakin squared his shoulders, standing up straighter and taller than usual, not wanting to give the other man any more advantage over him—not even height.

“You know he doesn’t want to see your ugly mug,” Anakin said as he held out his hand. “You got the goods?”

Quinlan chuckled and drew his hand back, pulling the package behind his back. “You’d think this was some kind of spice deal the way you’re acting. And I have done many spice deals--”

“Who cares, Vos,” Anakin said as he made a grab for the package. “You know I have shit to do.”

Quinlan laughed again, “You are a little shit, you know that?”

Anakin huffed, “I believe I’ve heard that somewhere before, yeah.” He held out his hand. “From you probably. Now, c’mon, gimme it.”

Quinlan finally put it in his hand, harder than was necessary which Anakin wasn’t prepared for and he nearly dropped it. “Didn’t your master ever teach you patience or, I dunno, how not to be a brat?”

Anakin clutched the package to his chest and looked at the older Jedi master smugly. “He loves it when I’m bratty.”

Quinlan burst out laughing then wrinkled his nose in disgust, “I-- I really don’t want to know. Don’t tell me.” He held up his hands in surrender. Anakin stuck out his tongue and started to turn away.

“Hey, brat!” Quinlan called after him as he walked quickly towards the exit. “You owe me! I expect my quarters to be spotless when you’re done cleaning them!” Anakin waved him off without turning back around and broke into a gentle jog.  “And I’ll see you again in a few hours!”

#

Anakin couldn’t help but grin as he ran back to their quarters, clutching Obi-Wan’s gift tightly and dodging younglings and masters alike. Quinlan had actually come through. He really owed the man, and he’d get around to it—eventually. He skid to a stop in front of their door then entered the code quickly.  In the living room of their quarters, he found Ahsoka, Rex, and Barriss. Rex was standing on a step ladder in front of their balcony door, hanging a banner while Ahsoka stood on the floor and directed him where to place the pins. Barriss was sitting on the floor with a bunch of paper and some scissors doing who-knew-what.

“No, no, no, what are you doing, Snips?” Anakin rushed in. “You were supposed to be collecting Jedi for this! I was going to--”

“Skyguy! Chill!” Ahsoka chuckled as she raised her hands in a placating gesture. “It’s being taken care of, master.”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow, “Oh yeah? By who?”

“By whom,” Barriss said from the floor without even looking up. Anakin waved her off, too.

“Cody, Waxer, and Boil,” Rex answered, turning to look at Anakin.

Anakin pulled back in surprise, “Cody? Commander Cody?”

“You know another Cody…?” Rex asked dubiously. Ahsoka and Barriss giggled.

“I’m going to leave if I’m just gonna get ganged up on by everyone!” Anakin yelled as he walked into their bedroom.

“You need us! And also, you live here!” Ahsoka called from the other room. He could still hear the laughter in her voice. But he no longer cared about that—he had his gift, they had the decorations, Cody had the Jedi… the pieces were actually coming together.

He tore open the package quickly unveiling the brown cloth inside. As he held it in his gloved hand, he touched the fine material with his flesh hand—the fibers felt strong yet delicate at the same time. He unraveled the material and shook it out, holding it up to examine it. It was a long brown cloak made of the finest material Tatooine had to offer. He smiled hoping Obi-Wan would love it (but also hoping he wouldn’t lose it, too). He folded it up lightly and placed it across the end of their bed then noticed a piece of flimsy on the floor—it must have fallen out when he shook out the cloak.

My dearest Ani—

Here is the cloak, as requested. It was made by a friend of Beru’s. I know of no material finer here, and I think she did a wonderful job. I believe your Obi-Wan will love it.

Give him my love. And you know you always have mine.

Mom

Anakin’s heart swelled and he held the letter to his lips and closed his eyes. There was a very delicate floral scent that could only be from his mother, no doubt some soap she had used or perhaps a perfume she had even begun to wear. It felt like she was standing right next to him. “You’re the best, mom,” he said out loud as he went to the dresser and tucked the letter into one of his drawers. He and Obi-Wan would have to comm her later, or tomorrow, to say thanks.

But right now, he would wrap the gift in just a little bit… he had a cake to make.

He stripped off his outer tunics until he was only wearing his undershirt and made his way to the kitchen, ignoring the heckling he was still getting. No one here would be spoiling his mood now.

#

About two hours later, the cake had cooled and was ready for the frosting, the decorations were done (Snips, Rex, and Barriss had done a pretty amazing job, honestly), Jedi and clone troopers alike were starting to filter in (apparently Cody’s stern commander voice was still good enough for people not to question him), snacks and drinks were out, and Obi-Wan’s gift was wrapped.

After Waxer and Boil graciously helped Anakin clean up his baking mess in the small kitchen, he headed off to the fresher to take a quick sonic and re-dress. He was incredibly pleased with himself for somehow managing to pull it off, he just hoped that Obi-Wan would be surprised. But knowing him… he probably found out somehow, or else puzzled it out on his own. Or Vos told him to get back at Anakin. He narrowed his eyes then shook it off—surely Quinlan wouldn't be that mean.

Anakin had begged Master Yoda to give Anakin's old master a completely unnecessary lesson on plants in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, knowing that it would firstly, take a while, and secondly, that Obi-Wan wouldn't (couldn’t) refuse since it was their venerated grandmaster.

He also knew that he owed a lot of favors now, including to Master Yoda. He’d be paying off Jedi and clones for months probably.

He toweled off and got dressed, rejoining everyone who had crammed themselves into their apartment’s main living space. It always seemed like more than enough space when it was just the two of them, but now it seemed incredibly tiny. Most of the High Council was there, currently sans Yoda of course, as well as several troopers from the 501st and 212th. Plo Koon also brought a few from his old battalion, Wolffe, Sinker, and Boost. Everyone looked great and relaxed and seemed happy chatting as he made his way across the room back to the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you pulled this off,” Quinlan said with a smirk as he leaned against the counter next to his former padawan, Aayla.

“Vos,” Anakin said brusquely by way of greeting. Then he nodded and smiled at the Twi'lek, “Good to see you as always, Aayla.”

“Anakin,” she dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I think Master Kenobi is going to be very surprised.”

Anakin sighed, relaxing against the wall across from them. "I hope so." He shot a look at Quinlan, "Unless you told him…?"

Quinlan smirked, “The thought did cross my mind after that welcome I got earlier.” Anakin rolled his eyes. Aayla left suddenly when she heard her name being called, leaving Quinlan and Anakin alone. Something softened in Quinlan’s eyes. “Your mom is great, by the way,” he added quietly.

Anakin looked up at him quickly, “Yeah?” Quinlan smiled.

“And she wanted me to give you this,” he said, taking a single stride over to Anakin and wrapping him in a big bear hug. He briefly lifted Anakin off the ground and held on tighter and tighter until the younger Jedi started laughing.

“Okay, okay,” he said, straining against Quinlan's strong arms. “You’re smothering me.” He started to gasp for air just for effect.

“That’s the idea,” he laughed again then released Anakin, who swayed backwards with a laugh. “I guess Obi wouldn't thank me too much for smothering you on his birthday.”

Anakin coughed a few times and shook his head, “That would be the worst birthday gift, I think.”

“Worse than--” Quinlan started but was cut off by a shout of ‘he’s on his way!’ coming from the living room. They both ran out of the kitchen, conversation forgotten, and joined the gathering in the living room as everyone scrambled to find their places. They had talked about hiding and jumping out to really surprise him, but decided there weren’t enough places for everyone, so they would just shout ‘surprise!’ as he came in, which seemed effective enough.

Anakin scrambled to the area closest to the front door, wanting to be the first face Obi-Wan saw when he came in. His heart was beating quickly and he was strangely nervous, but also excited—he couldn’t wait to see the look of astonishment on his face.

“Okay, shhhh! Shhh! Shut up!” Anakin turned and tried to quiet everyone down and surprisingly it worked.

The door to their apartment slid open to reveal Obi-Wan who was looking down at Master Yoda. “SURPRISE!” they all managed to yell in unison (even Yoda), indeed surprising the beloved Jedi Master, former High General, and Councilor. He was so much more than all of those to Anakin—his teacher, his partner, his very great friend, and the man he loved.

Obi-Wan looked up, shocked, eyes settling first on Anakin’s face then shifting around taking in all the faces of those he considered dear family and friends. His mouth was hanging open and he seemed to be frozen to the spot until Yoda tapped his knee with his gimer stick.

“Like a fish you look with your mouth hanging open, young Obi-Wan,” Yoda said, finally moving inside the apartment with a giggle. Obi-Wan huffed and snapped his mouth closed, following the grandmaster inside.

“Well, I…” Obi-Wan started. “I’m flabbergasted.”

“The Great Negotiator without a thing to say?” Master Plo asked, warmth suffusing his deep voice. Obi-Wan broke into a laugh, followed by everyone else in the room.

“Happy birthday, Master Obi-Wan!” Ahsoka said before Obi-Wan could speak. That, too, was followed by a chorus of well wishes. Obi-Wan just stood there smiling, nearly overcome with love and emotion.

“Happy birthday, old man,” Anakin finally said, stepping closer and pulling him into his arms for a quick embrace. Obi-Wan huffed a laugh as Anakin kissed the corner of his mouth. Now as close as he was to his master, he could see that his stormy blue eyes seemed brighter with unshed tears.

“Anakin, you did all this?” Obi-Wan asked softly.

He shrugged a shoulder, “I had a little help.” Obi-Wan placed his palm against his cheek.

“It’s lovely, thank you, my darling.”

Anakin just smiled, too afraid to say anything as he was getting choked up himself. Obi-Wan’s reaction was everything he wanted and more. But he finally cleared his throat, “Well, come on then, we have food and drinks and cake to eat!” Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan’s elbow and pulled him further into the room to begin the party.

#

Anakin could hardly follow his old master around the whole night, there were more than enough people for everyone to talk to, but that didn’t keep his eyes from following him from time to time just to see if he was enjoying himself. And he always was—he looked radiant, relaxed, and happy. He knew how much Obi-Wan prized his alone time, or his time with only Anakin, but he was just as much in his element here, even as the center of attention.

All the snacks and cake were being eaten, drinks were flowing, and some even had come up with games amongst the small groups. This is where Anakin next found Obi-Wan, standing next to his beloved commander. They were talking as they overlooked some kind of game amongst the troopers involving dice and chips. (He was fairly certain they were gambling, but was too afraid to ask.)

Obi-Wan gently touched the brass buttons on the jacket of Cody’s dress greys. “You certainly got dressed up, commander. Did they tell you it was just for me?”

Cody nodded. “They did indeed, sir.”

“Cody, you know you don’t need to call me that anymore…” Obi-Wan grinned, taking another long sip from the fruity alcoholic punch concoction Depa had made.

Cody grinned, “Old habits and all that.”

“And you still got dressed up?”

“I wanted to put everyone to shame,” Cody answered. Obi-Wan chuckled.

“You certainly did that, my dear.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Anakin cut in with a huff, wrapping his arm around Obi-Wan’s waist and pulling him close. Cody smirked into his own drink.

Obi-Wan looked up at him and grinned, “Anakin, dear, don’t be jealous. I appreciate beauty wherever I may see it.” His general’s flirtatious ways never fazed Cody much. He just smiled and took the compliment.

“Well, anyway, there are some more people to schmooze,” Anakin said as he directed a laughing Obi-Wan away from the troopers at the table. “And you do look very nice, commander!” Anakin added, calling over his shoulder as they walked away.

#

The party went on for hours, well until after Coruscant Prime disappeared beyond the horizon and deep blues and purples had settled on the ecumenopolis. There wasn’t a single person Obi-Wan had not spoken to at least twice. And Anakin, even though he wasn’t exactly in his element being the ‘outgoing, gracious host,’ pushed himself to be just that, flitting between conversations, offering cake and drinks and anything else anyone might want or need.

So after everyone left, the two of them found themselves exhausted. Too exhausted even to get up and go to bed, where it was surely more comfortable. They were sitting on the couch, leaning against each other, propping the other up. Anakin’s left leg was slung over Obi-Wan’s right knee, and he was swinging it gently back and forth. Their fingers were intertwined laying in Obi-Wan’s lap. They didn’t need to say anything—just being together was enough. Anakin could feel happiness, contentment, and affection rolling off Obi-Wan in waves.

“Thank you again, my darling,” Obi-Wan said, bringing his hand to his lips and kissing the back. “For everything. I was wonderfully surprised.”

Anakin turned to look at him, “Were you? Truly surprised? I was so afraid it had leaked. Then I thought, well I guess Obi-Wan is a very great actor.” They both chuckled.

“No, no, no acting involved. I was truly surprised,” Obi-Wan smiled. “I was however very suspicious about Yoda’s impromptu lesson on the Donar flowers that had been recently planted in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.”

“A lesson you couldn’t refuse,” Anakin laughed then suddenly shot up, leaving Obi-Wan to fall sideways onto the couch. “Your gift!”

Obi-Wan chuckled as he pushed himself upright again. He watched as Anakin ran into their room and returned with a gift-wrapped package. He flopped back down on the couch, pressing up against Obi-Wan and placed the gift in his lap.

Obi-Wan fingered the pretty paper and bow, even as a bit messy as the wrapping was. It had Anakin’s handiwork written all over it.  He looked up at the younger man and smiled. “What’s this now? Was the party not gift enough?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this was a big birthday, so it needed something really special.”

Obi-Wan placed his hand on Anakin’s cheek and pulled him in for a quick, gentle kiss. “Anakin, even if it was just a quiet evening with just you, it would have been really special to me.”

Anakin looked down, the smallest bit of pink coloring his cheeks. He loved that Obi-Wan could still make him blush after all these years, even if he was embarrassed. He finally looked up again. “Well, open it! I went through… a bit to get that.” Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, curiosity getting the better of him. Anakin watched his deft fingers as he quickly but carefully unwrapped the gift. If it had been him, he would have just ripped the paper off, but Obi-Wan had treated even the paper as if it was something precious.

When he finally got it open, he touched the brown material slowly and softly, enjoying the feel of the delicate woven material. “Oh, Anakin,” he breathed out as he looked to the younger man briefly then back to the cloak, still folded on his lap.

Anakin stood, taking the cloak and unfolding it, holding it up in front of himself so Obi-Wan could see it in its entirety. Obi-Wan touched the material again, running his hand down the front, then down the sleeves to the end, touching the fine hemming and stitching. Obi-Wan finally stood, too, still holding on to the material. He looked at Anakin again, “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

“You really like it?” Anakin said, hopefully.

“Like it? I love it. It’s almost too nice to wear,” Obi-Wan chuckled. “You know me and my cloaks…”

Anakin laughed, “I do know. Hence the reason for the gift.”

Obi-Wan smiled, “Help me put it on then?” He turned and Anakin held it out so Obi-Wan could slip his arms into the wide sleeves, then pulled it up and over his shoulders. Anakin turned him around to face him once it was on, and pulled it closed, smoothing the material down over Obi-Wan’s torso (not completely necessary, he mostly just wanted to feel Obi-Wan’s strong chest under there). He looked up at the younger Jedi again, “So then… what’s the story behind it?”

“I was waiting for you to ask,” Anakin grinned broadly. “It’s from Tatooine. Some of the best weaving my home planet has to offer. A friend of Beru’s made it, and mom helped me get it.” Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows again in surprise. He looked happy and pleased. “Oh, and Vos…”

“Vos?” His expression changed to confusion quickly. “Quinlan Vos?”

Anakin laughed, “So help us all, you know another Vos?” Obi-Wan laughed and shook his head.

“No, one Vos is quite enough…”

“But yeah, Quinlan, the one and only,” Anakin continued to explain. “He went specifically for the cloak, but managed to get in another mission in a neighboring system while he was there. He visited mom and picked it up for me. I figured if I went on my own, you might get more suspicious.”

Obi-Wan grinned, “Yes, you’re probably right about that. You’re quite clever getting everyone involved in this. I suppose I am most surprised about Quinlan of all people being so helpful. To you.”

Anakin shrugged, “I’m sure it has nothing to do with me , you know. It's you.” He tugged at the closure once more then used it to pull Obi-Wan closer for a soft, languid kiss. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Anakin’s waist and pulled him close until their chests were touching. Anakin finally pulled away, and though he had been tired, had found he got a second wind. “So… are you ready for the final part of your gift?”

Obi-Wan huffed a laugh, “Anakin, I hope you’re kidding… This is more than enough. What could it possibly be now?”

He chuckled as he began to walk backwards towards their room, pulling Obi-Wan along by the hand. “Well, I might be half kidding about it being part of your gift, but… let’s get you out of the cloak and all the rest of these clothes and you can find out,” he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Obi-Wan shook his head fondly.

“But you love me anyway.” Anakin sat down once the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed. He pulled Obi-Wan closer and had him stand between his legs.

Obi-Wan looked down at him and plunged his fingers into his hair, “I do… very much.”

Anakin looked up at him and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist and pulled him into an embrace, pressing the side of his face into Obi-Wan’s stomach. “Happy birthday, my love.”

“Thank you, dear,” Obi-Wan said softly as he continued to play with Anakin’s hair. “I’ll certainly be remembering number 40 for a long time. But I hope you know you’ve set the bar quite high. Now you’ve got 10 years to plan for the next big milestone.”

“You really will be an old man then,” Anakin chuckled and squeezed Obi-Wan tighter. “But always my old man.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “Yes, I suppose.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Anakin’s head.

Not even the peace suggestions infused in the very walls of the Halls of Healing can soothe the panic spreading like wildfire through Obi-Wan’s chest, filling his lungs with smoke until he struggles to breathe, pouring sourness in his stomach to the point he has to make an effort to keep himself from retching.

Anakin speaks, finally, the truth about what happened first on Naboo and then on Tatooine, and Obi-Wan wishes he, too, had died like the Sand People his Padawan slaughtered. It would have been a more merciful fate than sitting here listening to the tale of his own failure, trying to wrap his head around each of Anakin’s words and failing, over and over again.

Anakin cries, his words interrupted by sobs that shake his entire body, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks, making him look younger than he has in years, and the instinct to console him, to hold him and take away his pain, fights with Obi-Wan’s inability to move, sure that his legs won’t bear his weight.

Anakin finishes his tale, his broken confession about what he and Padmé told each other just outside the arena on Geonosis, and takes a long, steadying breath, before shaking his head.

“But it can’t be. I was stupid and selfish to tell her that. She needs to be with someone better than me, less damaged, less dangerous, less broken.” He angrily wipes away his tears with his left hand. “And I’m a Jedi. We have a war to fight, we can’t afford these distractions.”

Those words finally manage to pull Obi-Wan out of his silence. This tongue feels heavy, too big for his mouth, but still, he manages to swallow down his despair long enough to speak what needs to be said, although it’s definitely the last thing Anakin needs to hear right now.

“Anakin, you won’t be fighting the war as a Jedi.”

The confusion in his Padawan’s watery eyes is almost comical, but it doesn’t make Obi-Wan want to laugh. On the contrary, he needs to swallow down his tears and take several deep breaths before he can trust himself to speak in a steady voice.

“Your romance with Padmé could have been overlooked, but what you did to those innocent Tuskens is unforgivable. Revenge, anger and murder are not the Jedi way. You broke the Jedi Code in a most heinous way, you gave in to the Dark side and I cannot, in good conscience, let you stay a part of the Order.”

Anger flashes across Anakin’s face, as his eyes darken and his brow furrows, but it only lasts a moment. A skipped heartbeat, and then it passes, melting off Anakin’s features as quickly as it had risen, and is swiftly replaced by hurt, then grief, then pure, heart-breaking sorrow. His eyes fill with tears again, and his parted lips shake around words he’s not strong enough to speak.

“You can choose if you want to tell the Council or not, but Tatooine is not under the jurisdiction of the Republic, so there’s no legal obligation for you to confess to your crime. If you want, we can leave in silence. They will not ask for a reason if we don’t want to give one.”

The words come out of Obi-Wan’s mouth at the same time as the resolution sinks in his heart. He’d barely realised he’d made that decision while listening to Anakin’s confession, but of course he’d follow him. What other choice does he have? Anakin’s actions are as much Obi-Wan’s failure as they are his own. Even if he stayed, he would not trust himself with another Padawan, nor with leading an army into battle.

Again, Anakin frowns at him in confusion, but now his eyes shine, too, with a glint of hope.

“Di-did you.. did you say we?” he stammers, breathless. “Will you come with me if I leave the order?”

For a moment, a selfish, greedy part from the darkest depths of Obi-Wan’s heart tries to push him to deny it, to say he misspoke, to say that he’ll stay, because this is his home, and it’s not fair he should lose it because of someone else’s mistakes. But looking into Anakin’s eyes, it’s easy to tune out that voice and make himself nod.

“I promised I would train you, with or without the Council’s approval. I failed and I broke my promise, but the fact that you won’t be a Jedi Knight doesn’t mean I’ll abandon you. You’re still my Padawan, Anakin, and I’m your Master, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Anakin breaths slowly, dragging out the long, shaky inhale, and as he exhales, relief and gratitude break through the thick, grey cloud of sorrow and guilt permeating the room, flooding the Force with light. Seeking to relish in that moment of respite from the grief that awaits them, Obi-Wan almost launches himself from his chair and towards Anakin’s bed.

“Of course, Master,” Anakin is saying as Obi-Wan sits on the edge of the bed. “Of course, I’ll have you.”

Obi-Wan takes his left hand, scorching even through the bandages, in his cold, clammy own, and tears start rolling from Anakin’s eyes again, slowly making their way down his face, but where there had been desolate, bottomless grief, now there’s a desperate kind of hope, shining in his eyes and pulsing through the Force.

“And I’ll listen, I swear I’ll listen,” Anakin breaths out shakily. “I swear I’ll make you proud of me again.”