Title: Padawan Braid
Series: Star Wars Clone Wars
Author helgaleena helgaleenas@yahoo.com
Rating: R
Archive/Distribution: yes.
Category Slash POV
Spoilers: Jedi Trial
Summary: Obi-Ani relationship redefined after Ani's knighthood
Warnings: braid has three strands
Disclaimer: Lucas is the god of Star Wars and owns everything. I am nothing.
Authors Notes-- contains my theory of Obi-Ani-Padme-Qui

Now he is a knight. He no longer needs to call me master, yet he still does. There is only one place where he eschews the term completely, and that is in bed.

Perhaps it is his subtle way of rubbing the galaxy's nose in the nature of the indispensable team of Kenobi and Skywalker. We were a team from the first; the only difference being that he grew up into my equal, and more. Yet the strands that bind us together have to remain hidden, even now. Calling me Master in public, when we all know it's no longer so, never lets them forget.

Finally he demonstrated the necessary self-mastery, during the bloodbath on Praesitlyn.* Retaking the communications hub of the Sluissi Sector had become another siege of attrition. Death tolls were staggering on both sides. Hundreds of hostage lives, including that of a Jedi Master, were at stake. Thank the Force I did not have to see it. But my fellow Master described it well.

This is what coming to maturity during war has made of Anakin's loving heart-- killing is the Jedi skill which comes easiest to him. And so to stop the loss of life, he killed. Like a living scythe he cut his way into the besieged communications center. When no enemy remained within, he showed his control. He ceased to kill, and became a commander again. This time, he had his witness. He would become a knight.

Upon this first day of his knighthood, immediately after the ceremony, he stood by a window of the Temple, looking at the piece of hair he had just lost. He was turning it in his hands as if it were a great puzzle, what do do with this strange little thing that had rested against his neck for so long. And I looked at him, my padawan no more, trying to solve the riddle of what lay between us now.

Dueling with Asajj Ventress had marked him, and like Master Tiin he had chosen to keep the scar as a reminder. Dooku had maimed him, and the result was increased efficiency in his new right hand. Yet the slaughter of thousands at Praesitlyn, where he had become an angel of death, had left no trace at all. It was the unmistakeable characteristic of what he was now-- a knight. My fellow knight.

He also looked different; the first thing he'd done after the ceremony was untie the queue at the back of his head and toss the elastic away. He'd shaken out his hair like a wet dog, and grinned. No more ears sticking out, although the top still had to grow out some more. It was a bit strange not to see his cheekbones any longer, as he stared at what lay in his hands.

Then, from a pocket of his robes he extracted a long narrow box, of the sort that women use to store jewelry. With shining eyes he put the braid in and sealed it again reverently.

He had some plan for it, I could tell. Some other ex-padawan might have thrown it off a bridge, or into the trash, or perhaps set it on fire. Me, I got drunk the evening of my knighthood, and lost the thing somewhere in Coruscant. But Anakin was always different.

Now, as he tucked the box securely away again, his golden brown locks fell to his shoulders, veiling the familiar column of his neck in a way that I envied them. His blue eyes blazed with joy as he raised them to meet mine. I was suddenly shy of him.

"Anakin---" I was all at once not sure how to say what I needed to so badly. So I let my face convey to him my pride in him, equal to his own, at being my peer at last.

I saw his lovely mouth begin to form that m-word that he need no longer use, but whose habit was so ingrained after our long years together. He changed it, and said,

"M-my friend. Obi-wan."

Then his smile became a small nova, and I took him in my arms, brother to brother, as he took me in his. I felt as if my heart would hammer itself right out of my chest in order to knock up against his. Looking up at this new-made knight, so familiar yet so splendidly transfigured, I could only smile in welcome.

"Thank you," he said, and bent his lips to mine.

The are no adequate words to tell of that kiss. In it, he lay this honor at my feet, and I gave it back again, for him to wear like a diadem.

And what was most splendid of all is that now that we were no longer padawan and master, we could stand there all day and swap kisses, and not one being in this whole pile could say a thing against it! So we did that, though not for the entire day. There was absolutely no urgency, just my dear one's lips rolling against mine, meeting and parting like a boat bobbing against its mooring, in the open air, for the whole planet to see.

At last we parted enough to allow for walking side by side, his arm over my shoulder, mine about his waist. Our matched gait took us leisurely toward our quarters, where more private celebration could take place.

"Tell me, what will you do with the braid?"

He smiled, with a look of unutterable bliss upon his face. "I finally have something of my own, a symbol of achievment. It's my only true posession.

"I'm going to give it to Padme."

And I smiled, too, though you may wonder why. But that is part of the weave between us three, that secret yet transparent surety of one another. It simply is, for which we are grateful. That braid was merely going to another station of its existence among us; no longer needed between him and me, it would be theirs.


The door of the apartment slid closed behind us.

"I suppose we may both be re-assigned to smaller spaces, soon."

"Yes, we will no longer merit our own cooking facilities, unless we take padawans. But that is hardly the Council's first priority for us, in these times."

"I like your cooking, Obi-wan."

"Do you? I would barely have known it, the way you simply inhale whatever is placed before you."

"I did that because it was good." And Anakin turned his head to place his lips gently into my hair. Then he took a mouthful, as if to chew it off. "Mmmm."

I laughed. "Not so fast. I'll need preparation."

"Oh no. You aren't the boss now. I'll eat what I want to." He grinned wickedly, pressing my shoulders into the wall of the foyer. And rapacious lips met mine, forcing them open to admit his tongue.

The perfume of his mouth was delicious, and I sucked at it with hunger of my own, until he withdrew to gaze into my face again, tracing it with delicate fingertips. Those deadly, beautiful hands... I shivered with mingled dread and desire as the black glove moved along my jawline.

My reaction fueled his next kiss. This time he nibbled at my mouth as if to consume it in small bites, stopping just short of breaking the skin. The mix of pleasure and discomfort made an arousing dish. My whole body began to prickle in response, with an electricity that drove me to begin pulling open his robes, even as our mouths continued their nipping play.

As I got his belt clasp undone, to send it clanking to the floor, his knee came forward between my own, to nudge at my sex. My hands were obliged to pause in their exploration of his golden chest. I had to cry out at the familiar pressure of that thigh upon me, just insistent enough not to bruise. From side to side it rubbed, and I swayed with it, in bliss. Anakin smiled.

His moist, plum-colored lips before me made me suddenly ravenous for their flavor. I grabbed him by his long locks and pulled those lips to me, devouring them with nips as had been done to me. Meanwhile the leg between mine rose ever higher, increasing the tension in me, even as my feet began to leave the floor. Anakin's hands were divesting me of my belt, opening my pants, finding what was inside. He grasped me as if he had found the handle that operated me. Perhaps he had, at that.

When next our lips parted, I discovered that I was high up the wall, with his booted leg supporting me. I gasped for breath as his hands exposed me, and without moving his leg in the slightest, he bent gracefully to take me into his mouth. Oh, it was a wondrous sensation. I was on a pedestal, being given fealty by this splendid young man whom I loved more than any other. I am afraid that I came immediately and explosively.

Gently he lowered his leg, setting me gradually back onto my feet. I was clutching at his sleeves for support, with the dew of pleasure emerging from my brow. And once again I was kissed, sustained by the nectar of his lips once more, spiced with my own essence. But like all things, this kiss had to have an ending.

"Obi-wan," he breathed into my hair. He made my own name into a caress. "You are delicious."

He reminded me of a hunger that I had not yet satisfied. My hands found the front of his trousers, with the treasure I knew they housed. I craved his taste. I opened them to find it.

Swiftly I grabbed him by the buttocks, sending his clothing skittering downward, and engulfed him with my mouth. He cried out at the rough pressure of my hands upon him, as I flipped his back against the wall in my place, my mouth never releasing his delectable organ. Stiffened nipples shook upon that golden chest as he laughed at my growling and sucking. But I felt his legs beginning to tremble, in that precursor to his release that I knew so well.

I was lapping thoroughly every inch of his shaft, then withdrawing to its tip in concentration. With each pressure of my lips upon his tip, he cried out joyfully. And as I took him in up to the root, I could feel his balls' reaction to the touch of my beard. Soon he would have to give me what I wanted.

Finally he could restrain the leaping of his legs no longer. With a shout, he spilled himself into my throat, his knees flapping to either side within the prison of his lowered pants, my hands exulting in the spasms of his buttocks.

Slowly Anakin slid down the wall, and into my arms. He was smiling as wide as the horizon, his blue eyes struggling to keep me in their sights behind the exhausted droop of his lashes. His hands still rested upon my shoulders. I crossed my legs beneath us, to take him upon my lap.

"My Anakin." I said it just to say it, there within the circle of his arms.

His eyes drifted closed for a moment, then opened again to return my love.

"Mmmmm," he said. "Obi-wan."


When I awoke, after we had at last fallen into bed together, I was alone. My partner's presence is nowhere within these chambers. Yes, that is what he is now. Not padawan, but partner.

I know where he has gone. He is off to slip into the Nubian Senator's residence, to deliver his token. Careful self-examination has revealed that I am simply happy for them.

I have no doubts about our partnership. We will continue to accept assignments, both together and separately, stronger than ever. I wouln't bother to change our quarters unless there is a pressing need for master-padawan accomodations, by others.

There are times when I feel particularly close to my deceased Master Qui-gon, even when not in dream-state. This is one of those times. I had thought I might be lonely once Anakin had left upon his errand, but I find that I am not. It is as if the distance from the other two has brought Qui-gon closer to me.

This is the nature of the bond between us in this life. We are woven together inextricably,for greater strength in our tasks.Long live the team of Kenobi and Skywalker. I can imagine nothing powerful enough to sunder us.

I smile into the darkness.


* Jedi Trial, by Sherman and Cragg

Back to Fiction Index