Mud | Obikin

11.

Back to the Temple, I find myself craving alone time to let last night sink in.

Quin has different plans, though. "I'll check Aurra's file in the Archives, and you'll write your little essay for Windu. Then, I'll resume my parallel inquiry about you while we have dinner together."

"Maybe I'll let you trick me into doing your homework, but I'm not getting caught in your web willingly. Why don't you spend the evening with your Twi'lek Knight instead?"

"So, how was my Master today?" Anakin has approached us from behind and is possessively throwing an arm over my shoulders. It could pass unnoticed as a plain, friendly hug, but there's something about the way he holds me that is unequivocally out of place.

How foolish of me to hope he would have act like an adult.
My first instinct is to step back to escape the touch, but this would only give more emphasis to it. I take a deep breath, imagining with a straight face several effortless ways to kill him.

If Quin is perplexed, he's not showing it. "He has been adorable, as usual. You should've seen the steady eye contact he kept with all the hot girls he interrogated, in fear of looking at their..."

"I think Anakin's got the idea," I say, getting his arm off my back. "Excuse me, but I'm not ready for this. I can barely tolerate you two separately."

"You're unfair," replies Anakin, pouting and grinning at the same time. "I'm showing all my affection to my old Master, and Quinlan's praising your honourability. The least you can do to demonstrate your gratitude is cooking us dinner."

The more I try to get free, the more the net gets tighter. "You must be kidding. I'd rather dine with Dooku and Ventress; it would be more relaxing."

"Ouch, it burns," says Quin, his hand over his heart.

"If it hurts, ask Obi-Wan for one of his Bacta salves. They can make the difference."

All of a sudden, I'm considering all the mitigating circumstances I'll present to the Council for killing the Chosen One.

Long story short, they force themselves into my quarters, carrying food and alcohol from theirs. For reasons I don't fully understand, they bring Ahsoka too. I show all my fatherly worries over this, but can't help being secretly relieved by her presence, as if she could save me from being eaten alive.

To commence, she helps me with the cooking. We have some quiet time together, ignoring the boys laughing from the living room like younglings throwing a party behind their Masters' back.

Cutting the vegetables, I ask how her day was, wondering once again why she can't be my Padawan.

"Nothing special. A couple of classes in the morning, some training with Anakin after lunch. He feels different today... You're right, he's moody. I shouldn't let his swings affect me so much." We turn our heads to look at him before she continues. "I like it when he's like this."

"Me too. His mood can be contagious, for better and for worse; he can be thrilled, furious and desperate over the same hour. I had to learn how to handle this. Here's something we have in common."

Ahsoka smiles warmly.

I've rarely had this kind of mutual understanding with anyone. An instinctive communion that makes me feel comprehended beyond words.
The only other person with whom I share something similar is Padme. Obviously, what we three have in common is Anakin. We orbit together around him, caught by his gravity; desperate to get free, at times.

I'm trying to admit the Senator is my friend, yet another good reason to feel sick whenever I think of her.

"Obi-Wan, you're burning the dinner." Ahsoka takes my place near the stove. "They'll get drunk if we don't feed them quickly."

She's right, we start eating just in time; they're a bit intoxicated but still nothing serious.

Quin is carrying on a talk he probably has begun while we were cooking. "I was explaining to Skywalker how irrecuperable Obi-Wan is. For example, there's this beautiful, brilliant Knight that is - inexplicably - dying for him. He's her perfect hero, the flawless Jedi, and all that shit. The moment he snaps his fingers she's in his bed, I swear."

I interrupt him, "I'm sure this can't interest anyone. Moreover, I don't think it's suitable for Padawan ears."

"Don't hide behind Ahsoka, she's not a child," says Anakin, amusedly looking at his embarrassed Padawan. "Actually, I find this story interesting. Let him finish."

Quin goes on, "So, what do you think he does when they meet under Coruscant's stars? He goes full Master Yoda on the poor girl; patronises her, calls her young one, and leaves her in despair. Ahsoka, you're a smart gal, does this make sense to you?"

I tell him to leave her in peace, but she answers anyway, obviously proud to be admitted to the grown-up table. "Maybe he's simply not interested. Anyway, isn't attachment forbidden?"

I love her more than ever.

"Sweet child, how can you possibly survive as Skywalker's Padawan? " Asks Quin. "They could've kept faith to the Code, enjoying something different from attachment! For Force's sake, she's exactly what he needs now, he has no right to be uninterested. He keeps boycotting his life."

"Ahsoka has more common sense than you'll ever have," I shot back. "I'd be interested if only you could stop selling me that girl at all costs. Shaali doesn't need your help to look attractive. Now, could we please talk about something else?"

Anakin mouth stays open for a second - one of the best seconds of my life - before he gets himself together. "This is a battle you can't win, Quin; not with those blunt weapons. You'll need something more than a dull Knight to make him surrender. Obi-Wan's standards are kriffing high."

Quin is seriously pondering this, and I take my chance to talk. "Perhaps it goes beyond your comprehension, but someone prefers to keep his private life private... Now, interrupting this catching debate is gruesome, but it's time for you two to clear the table and wash the dishes while I have a caf with the only reasonable person in the room."

"They're terrible. I'm sorry you had to undergo this," I tell Ahsoka when we are on the couch, looking at her over my cup.

"This is so typical of you, Master, worrying about others when you're the one that has been tormented all night. I'm feeling bad because I know it hasn't been fun for you, but I loved this dinner. All my favourite people laughing and joking together, making war seem distant. Maybe I sound childish, but it feels like family. Quinlan could be the crazy uncle."

The implications of what she's saying hit her, and she fiercely reddens.