Title: Safe Place
Author: helgaleena helgaleenas@yahoo.com
Series: post-ROTS, AU
Rating: NC-17
Archive/Distribution: yes
Category: slash, AU spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Lucas owns everything. i am nothing
Summary: The family finds a way to deal with Luke's bad dreams.
Authors note: This is an AU where Padme died, but Anakin did not turn. He and Obi-Wan are raising the twins. Contains my theory of
Obi-Ani-Padme-Qui. Previous stories by me in this AU: In Between Changes and Late Night Feeding.

To the rest of the galaxy, they were Kenobi and Skywalker, the Great Negotiator and the Hero with No Fear. But they were Daddy and Daddy-Wan, to the ones who mattered most. And at the moment, their assigned duties found them, and the twins, in the Jedi Temple creche.

Force-sensitive twins always merited special handling. And these lucky children not only had their fathers; they also had Mommy, and Daddy Qui, as well as each other.

But when it came to quiet lap-time, they had their favorite daddies, as well as favorite toys. Leia was Obi's girl, and Luke was Ani's boy. It just worked out that way. So Leia was taking a little break , holding a toy close in imitation of how Daddy-Wan was holding her close, and chewing on her finger. Maybe another tooth was coming in.

"Daddy-Wan? Why do we dream about Mommy?"

"Because she loves you so much, she didn't go away when she died. She stayed because she wanted you to always have a safe place in your dreams."

"Do you go there too, Daddy-Wan?"

"Yes, sometimes."

"And why do we dream about Daddy Qui?"

"Because he showed us the way to that place. He was Daddy's teacher, and my teacher. And he was very good to us."

"Why doesn't Luke see them when he dreams? We have lots of dreams together."

"Because he's Luke, not Leia."

"I know that. Why really?" Her parent chuckled, and stroked her sleek brown head.

"Leia, even though he's your very best brother, you are not the same. Luke likes nima juice, and you like jawa juice, right? And his hair is a different color than yours, right?"

"Yes, he has hair and eyes like Daddy."

"Well, you have hair and eyes like Mommy. And it's easier for you to see your dreams than it is for Luke. You two are just different that way."

"But he's there! I saw him!"

"Why does that bother you, Leia?"

"Because-- because he should get to see Mommy, like me!"

"Well-- if you think so, maybe you could try to make him open his eyes, in the dream."

"Oh..." A pause, with more chewing on the finger.

"Can you remember to do that when you're sleeping, Leia?"

"No, Daddy-Wan. I forgot. I was too happy with Mommy."

"Maybe you'll remember next time."

"Okay." And she trotted off, satisfied, with her stuffed rancor.

"Why are you holding Bantha so tight, son?" Creche staff had alerted them to Luke's lingering distress today. Toddlers were subject to night terrors, notoriously hard for them to describe.

"Daddy, I had a bad dream." Like father, like son, thought Anakin.

"Everybody gets bad dreams sometimes, Luke. If you tell about it, we can help you feel better."

"Okay." There followed a considerable wait for the little boy to say more. Perhaps he thought that simply admitting to a bad dream was sufficient in itself, to do the "feel better" magic. Maybe he didn't know enough words. Anakin decided to prompt him.

"Did you get scared?"


"Was Leia there too?"

"I think so... But it was really dark." His short legs began to kick in agitation. "I couldn't tell for sure if she was there. There was this big dark and it was going to eat Bantha, so I held him really tight, even more tight than now, and I shut my eyes because it wasn't so dark with my eyes shut. But then I couldn't see Leia."

"But you can feel Leia was there, right?"

"Yes, I can feel if Leia's there."

"So if you feel Leia and then you open your eyes in the dream, what will you see?"

A little pause, then, still clutching Bantha tightly: "...Leia.."

"That's right; you'll see Leia, and Daddy, and Daddy-Wan, and Mommy, and Daddy Qui."

"Like in the story?"

"Yes, just like in the story."

And the daddy kissed the son upon his golden hair. They remained this way for quite some time, listening to Leia's bustle and babble to her rancor, quite easy to pick out from the other toddlers, for those so attuned.

Then out shone a sunny smile, and blue eyes met blue eyes again. "Bantha feels better now." Luke hopped down, and he and Bantha went to join his sister.

"So, Daddy, how are things with Luke?" Obi-Wan had come to join his mate.

"Daddy-Wan, he's been having bad dreams. The Dark is out to get Bantha."

"Is that what he's named that shapeless mass of plush?" Obi curled into the arm his beloved held out to receive him, slipping a corresponding arm around the slim waist.

"I think it used to be bantha shaped once, yes."

"Funny, I don't think Leia's rancor has a name."

"Perhaps naming things is a first sign of attachment."

"Do you mean that if the bantha wasn't named Bantha, it would be in no danger?"

"Not exactly-- but anyway, he shut his eyes in the dream, and couldn't see Leia. I told him to open his eyes, and she'd be there."

"Via the twin-bond, you mean."

"Right. He has to see that he's in the safe place."

"Funny, Leia was talking about this very subject, today."

"That place?"

"Yes, and her mother being there. And Luke having his eyes closed."

Their eyes met. This was a personal mission, for the team of Kenobi and Skywalker.

"It's nap-time in half an hour. We can do something about this, perhaps." He traced a finger gently along the curve of Anakin's lower lip, which flexed into new luscious arcs as he smiled.

"Let's let the kids know we're leaving first, Daddy-Wan." And the two fathers rose, making ready to leave the creche.


They walked swiftly and unobtrusively through the Temple to their quarters. Decorum was preserved until the doors slid shut behind them. Then, with the ease of long practice, they disrobed one another, each hungering for the flesh of the other, the ideal nourishment for their collaboration. As partners, as parents, as a team of professional problem-solvers, refueling in this hiatus dedicated above all to family matters. Few Jedi had this luxury.

Anakin was wholly absorbed in uncovering Obi-Wan's shoulders; he was curious to see if the fair skin held a new flavor, now that it had begun to freckle. He delighted in the aroma from the base of each hair follicle upon that well-muscled torso, still salted slightly by perspiration from sparring practice earlier in the day. His beloved former master had gotten hairier in middle age, and it seemed to Anakin that it made him more male somehow. More delicious, certainly.

As his tongue traced under the waistband of Obi's descending leggings, toward the back where the firm glutes met the coccyx, his partner's hands sought to delay him. "Anakin-- Anakin, let me wash."

He let Obi-Wan raise him off his knees, contenting himself with pelvic contact and some gentle strokes of the spine, until he could control his hunger sufficiently to allow them to walk to the fresher. Obi glanced fondly up at the younger man. His breathing was harsh; his lips were inflamed and trembling. But he was determined to be served up properly clean, to that marvelous mouth.

Anakin looked back at him, and they were delayed again, as the younger man crushed him into a ravenous kiss. Those lush purplish lips seemed to delight in the sweatiness of his beard and moustache, as well. And soon Obi's lips were rosy from savoring the stubbled jawline of Anakin. The surprisingly delicate bones of his sinewy beloved, covered in that golden skin, would be even more tasty once the fresher removed the tang of sweat, and left the perfume.

He found a nipple and pinched, making Anakin gasp, and come up for air.

"The fresher, remember?" Anakin growled, then smiled, and let them continue to their goal. They had found, now that they were a dedicated couple, that it was by far the most efficient method to shower together, each sudsing the other simultaneously. The lathering compound became yet another way to pay homage to one another's bodies. The lather itself wasn't edible, however, which meant curbing their impatience somewhat, so that it was properly rinsed away.

Trembling with anticipation, both men massaged the spray deep into one anothers' hair. The moisture beaded up on their lashes. Anakin felt like thanking the Force for the magnificent perfection of mastery contained in those emerald eyes beneath the noble brow, the red-gold mane and beard of such softness, and the rosy lips, the ivory teeth, the tongue that taught him, tantalized him, wrestled with his, licking those lips now--

As their shoulders were now suds-free, Obi-Wan put his tongue to graze upon the golden fields of Anakin. His beloved arched back, moaning, to offer more of himself, while his hands chased the lather down his Obi-Wan's back. There were more moans as his collar-bone was traced, and the hollow at the base of his neck was made love to. In response his pelvis rocked forward, as Obi's hands kneaded at his buttocks, firm as the surface of a planet one moment, then heaving and molten beneath those hands the next. That planet would welcome the exploration by that tongue, of all heights and hollows.

Obi-Wan's mouth followed the descending spray down Anakin's body, ghosting over a pectoral and its nipple, momentarily distracted by the fragrant forest of hairs in the armpit, tracing back upward from the abdominals, when deterred by a lingering taste of soap. He paused to savor the exquisite contrast of Anakin's kneading at his shoulders in counterpoint-- the flesh one heated, the metal one cold.

Now he could make his way lower, following the line of hairs to the root of his beloved's turgid sex. Tongue plunged into the leaking tip. Tongue forced loose skin back, causing metal and flesh hands to clutch at him. Shaft rubbed triumphantly against the bearded face. His lips were claiming, engulfing, and his fingers directing Anakin forward, ever deeper.

But this triumph was short. Suddenly Obi-Wan was pulled away by the shoulders and shoved backwards. With a growl, his partner hooked him under the arms and flung him bodily over his shoulder. Unceremoniously, still dripping wet, Anakin dropped him onto their bed. And dove after him, to lick the moisture from his thighs.

In surprise, he lifted his knees-- and immediately the broad shoulders of Anakin pressed them still higher, granting access to all parts of Obi-Wan. He trembled and moaned in his turn, when those beautiful lips surrounded his scrotum, taking both balls in whole, to be tongued and suckled.

And the licking continued lower, with Anakin's chin pressing maddeningly against his perineum. The nubbly tongue of Anakin played among the hairs, paused teasingly at his secret entrance, then dove deep-- so warm and wet, first rigid, then soft--every nerve ending in that sensitive place thrilled. How wonderful to know that he was this delectable to his love.

Obi-Wan's legs were trembling and he was whimpering from the intense pleasure of this treatment. Anakin raised his face at last, meeting his beloved's eyes past his weeping, throbbing erection. He made certain Obi-Wan was watching, as he wrapped his lips around it, sucked it bit by bit deeper, until Obi-Wan was unable to contain himself and spurted into his dear one's throat, seeing stars.

As he spasmed and rocked, Anakin crawled up and over him. His focus was upon his former master's beautiful face. Straddling him, he angled himself downward. Shakily, Obi-Wan raised himself to his elbows, to plant a kiss upon his beloved's very tip, held reverently out to him.

Anakin's whole body was shaken by that kiss. His hot semen splashed out onto the face and chest of his Obi-Wan, and he collapsed, with a groan,onto his side on the bed, dizzy and panting. Then, taking Obi-Wan into his arms, he began tenderly to lick away what he had done.

Every now and then, Obi would interrupt him, wordlessly requesting a kiss. Those, too, were fondly given. Where their flesh adhered together from the sticky embrace, Obi-Wan licked Anakin clean as well. And when they finally had their fill, they slept.


Force had made this place. Force bade them dwell here, lord and lady of this realm of noncorporeality. And Force kept strong the connection to those still living, or only just beginning to live.

The being of Padme was wrapped like a billowing cloak around the bright presences of her children, Leia and Luke. They were playing with their twin-bond, as if it were a shimmering toy. Qui-Gon and the two living fathers surrounded them, circling and entwined.

Luke's blue eyes came up to meet those of his fathers. //It's Mommy... it really is.//

Leia's sparkling brown eyes glanced up, too. //I told him!//

Then they became absorbed again in communication with each other.

All around them, the bright plains of the Force seemed to stretch forever, in every direction. But they were not yet ready to let go, to lose themselves in oneness. Not while there were Luke and Leia.


As they returned home that evening from creche, the twins were bouncing with news for their daddies.

"I showed Luke Mommy!" shouted Leia.

"I showed Mommy my Bantha!" yelled Luke, as he galloped around the corridor.

They and their toys received many joyful hugs of congratulations. The two fathers exchanged looks of satisfaction.

Now both children knew about the safe place. No longer would they be at the mercy of dreams of darkness. Mission accomplished.


Back to Fiction Index