Title: What Comes of It
Author: Dolly
Rating: R
Pairing : Obi-Wan, Anakin
Timeframe: post-ROTS era AU. Anakin is 27.
Genre: Drama, Action
Summary: The Sith and the Jedi have never been able to coexist – so what are the possible outcomes when they meet?

Notes/Series: takes place about eight years after my story A Simple Change (which was set just after AotC) though you do not have to have read it for this to make sense as the two stories have completely different plots. But if you see little things that you don't quite “get” in this story, its probably because you haven't read the one that comes before it. So go read it! You can find it HERE. There are also relatively major events that have happened between stories that will be revealed gradually, and only as necessary, since they are pretty easy to figure out and are more background than anything else. Also, I have NO BETA! I'm the only person who has read this story as of posting it, so I apologize in advance for any errors, characterization flaws, or general weirdness.

~*~*~*

Chapter 1

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“I do believe that's my line,” Obi-Wan said teasingly to Padmé as she walked with him to the Rebel Base's hanger.

She looked at him reproachfully. “You feel it too, then,” she stated, looking him in the eye as they approached the small starfighter that he would be taking.

“Perhaps,” he conceded. “But we really have no choice. I'm the only one who can do this.”

“I know,” Padmé said regretfully. In the almost five years since he had joined the fledgling Rebellion against the Empire, Obi-Wan had become a valued and trusted member. They were small in number, but growing continually. Still, Padmé knew that Mon Mothma was reluctant to send Obi-Wan, their only Jedi, on such a dangerous mission. His ability to use the Force made him invaluable to them, but at the same time it hindered his ability to go on missions since the Emperor and Vader could sense him. Yet here she was, seeing him off on a mission; and a very risky one at that.

“Just be careful, Obi-Wan. And promise me you'll come back,” she said fiercely, giving him a quick hug before he got into his ship.

“Always, my friend.” Giving her one last, reassuring smile, he closed the hatch and powered up his ship to launch. Padmé stood in the hanger for a long moment, looking after Obi-Wan's small starfighter.

His lack of assurances that he would be back had not escaped her notice. Despondently, Padmé slowly turned and left the hanger, somehow doubting that she would ever see her dear friend again.

------

Today was not a good day.

“Lord Vader?”

Inexplicably, he had been feeling tense and on edge lately, and what he really needed was a nice, violent insurrection to put down. Or, for that matter, anything that would let him get in a few good kills. And his current mission most certainly did not fit this description.

“My Lord?” the voice came again, somewhat hesitant this time.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he answered menacingly, turning to glower at the younger officer.

Seeing the look on his commanding officer's face, the man shrank back slightly. “A message, my Lord,” he said as he motioned towards the com unit.

Only slightly curious, Vader accessed the message, and anticipation welled up within him as he read through its contents. The dull mission that Palpatine had sent him on could wait; this was what he needed to rid himself of his nervous energy.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said curtly, in a rare show of good temper. “Lay in a course to intercept the Trinity.”

“Yes, my Lord,” he answered promptly, and then hurried off.

Vader sat back in his chair, incredibly pleased by this new turn of events. A Jedi. They had caught a Jedi, and one rescuing children nonetheless. Surely this Jedi had known the risk, foolish as their kind tended to be. Unfortunately, the Jedi had succeeded in preventing the scheduled executions, but Vader felt that the loss was more than worth it. It had been more than two years since a Jedi had been captured, and he knew that there were very few that remained.

The question was, which remaining Jedi had been caught? Whoever it was, if they had eluded the Empire for so long then they would surely prove to be entertaining. And he had no doubt that they would be a pleasure to kill, as well.

Perhaps today wasn't such a bad day after all.

------

“Get up, you.”

A boot kicked him in the ribs, and Obi-Wan suppressed a groan as he pulled himself off the cold floor of the containment cell. His head ached from the blows that it had received, and his movement was impeded by heavy cuffs on both his wrists and ankles. He observed, with some amusement, the eight Storm Troopers that waited outside of his cell to escort him to . . . wherever he was being taken. He wasn't entirely certain, but he suspected that he was about to have a most unpleasant reunion with his former partner. Reaching out unobtrusively with the Force, he could sense Anakin's familiar presence, even tainted by darkness as it was.

“Let's go.” A tinny voice shook Obi-Wan out of his thoughts, and he moved swiftly to avoid another kick. The Storm Troopers marched him down the ship's corridors in silence, save for the clanking of their armor, and a pair of them stepped into a small shuttle with him. He stood, swaying, through the short ride, and stumbled briefly as they docked with lurch.

He was escorted down the ramp, and Obi-Wan couldn't suppress a small twinge of anxiety as a familiar figure came into view. Obi-Wan recognized the tall, well-built young man that greeted him as Anakin Skywalker; or rather, the person who had once been Anakin Skywalker. Taking in the hard, dark expression that marred the handsome features, Obi-Wan felt a pang of sorrow.

Anakin, however, looked positively delighted to see him, but not in the way that Obi-Wan would have liked.

“What a pleasant surprise. It's been far too long,” he addressed Obi-Wan with a dangerous smile.

“Vader.” Obi-Wan acknowledged him with a nod. Though he couldn't help but think of him as Anakin still, intellectually he knew that the Sith before him was not the partner and friend that he had known. But, even now, Obi-Wan couldn't fully bring himself to wish that he had had the inner strength to kill his former apprentice after their last, fateful battle on Mustafar. Still, the Jedi in him regretted that he had held back and saved this monster that stood before him.

Anakin moved in closer then, and seemed to look over every inch of his weary, battered body with an inscrutable expression on his face. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to squirm, instead bringing his gaze up to meet the taller man's.

A look very much like a smirk crossed Anakin's face. “Bring him to my quarters,” he ordered. “But first,” he said distastefully, “Clean him up.” Without another word, the young Sith turned and strode out of the hanger, his long black cape billowing behind him.

Clean him up? What in the galaxy was Anakin up to? Obi-Wan had been hoping for a fairly quick execution, but it seemed that Anakin had a different idea.

The bad feeling he'd had still hadn't gone away, and he had the sinking feeling that his demise would not be nearly as swift as he would have liked.

Chapter 2

Vader had hoped that the captured Jedi would be at least a Master, preferably one that he knew and thus would take extra pleasure in torturing and thinking up a creative death for. So when he had sensed that is was his old Master, he had been positively happy. His initial glee was somewhat dampened, though, as soon as he started thinking about what to do with Obi-Wan. Perhaps he was biased, but Vader grudgingly recognized that Obi-Wan was one of the strongest Jedi that he knew, by sheer will alone. He doubted that even his own special brand of torture would be enough to break the Jedi; in fact, he doubted if Obi-Wan could be broken at all, least of all by him. And Vader certainly didn't want to kill him without breaking him.

Before he could consider the matter further, his door chimed, and a pair of guards escorted Obi-Wan in. Vader quickly dismissed them, and the two were alone for the first time in over five years. Vader raked his eyes over Obi-Wan's form, marveling at how unchanged the older man was, though he looked far younger than Vader, now. Still slender and beautiful, Obi-Wan was just as Vader remembered him, right down to the calm, inscrutable look on his face and his cream colored Jedi tunics.

“So, care to tell me what you plan to do with me?” Obi-Wan asked casually, not really seeming to care. As Vader had suspected, it appeared that he had already resigned himself to his fate. It would not be easy to shake Obi-Wan, serene and dispassionate as he always was. Dispassionate . . . A slow smile spread across his lips as a long-forgotten and dismissed idea blossomed in his mind and took on new life.

“My plan?” Vader replied archly. “You flatter yourself, my old Master, if you assume that I have one.” In past years he had spent many, many hours dreaming up what he would do when he finally got his hands on Obi-Wan, but now that the time had come, none of his plans seemed even vaguely sufficient. Except, perhaps, for one. Vader moved closer to Obi-Wan then, and circled him slowly before coming to a stop just centimeters from his face. He looked down into the head of red-gold hair, and forcefully brought Obi-Wan's face up to meet his gaze. “I'm sure I'll think of something, though,” he said smoothly as he ran his finger down across Obi-Wan's lips.

Obi-Wan did not move, though flinched slightly at his touch. Yes, this was definitely the best way to deal with Obi-Wan. Vader knew that he may not be able to break Obi-Wan's spirit, but he would settle for having some fun and humiliating him before killing him.

“I'm sure you will,” Obi-Wan said, looking him in the eye.

Vader made a show of looking Obi-Wan over. “Ever the Jedi, even down to your manner of dress,” he observed. “That will have to be taken care of. But for now,” he said with a cold smile, “Strip.” Obi-Wan did not move at first, and simply looked back at him calmly, though Vader could sense just the slightest hint of discomfort in his demeanor. “Or perhaps you would prefer that I take your clothing off for you?” he asked mockingly as he fingered Obi-Wan's tunic with his robotic hand.

“I'd like to see you try, with these on.” Obi-Wan replied wryly as he held up his cuffed wrists and looked down at his chained feet. Annoyed at himself for overlooking the bindings, and angry with Obi-Wan for making him look the fool, Vader unlocked them with a wave of the Force and they dropped to the ground with a clang. He then leaned back against the table and crossed his arms, making it clear to Obi-Wan that he was watching. Slowly, Obi-Wan began to undress.

“As much as I appreciate the strip show, do hurry up. It's been a long day, you know.” Vader said caustically. That should get Obi-Wan moving, and give him just enough of a hint at what he was planning to make him nervous. Though he had to admit, watching the man undress so slowly and deliberately was disturbingly appealing to him.

His words had their intended effect, though, and the remainder of Obi-Wan's clothes came off at a much faster pace. He resisted the urge to draw in a quick breath as he took in the firm, lithe body that stood before him, instead settling for a rather obvious and intimidating leer. Or at least, it was meant to be intimidating. Obi-Wan, to Vader's surprise, wore the same expression that he had when fully clothed in the hanger bay.

Frustrated by his own ineffectiveness, Vader grabbed Obi-Wan's by the arm and shoved him roughly onto the floor at the foot of his bed. Calling the cuffs over to him with the Force, he then chained Obi-Wan's wrist to the bed post. It was more of a symbolic gesture than anything, since Vader knew that Obi-Wan could unlock these cuffs just as easily as he himself had. But, as Obi-Wan surely knew, the cuffs were of little importance; escape was impossible on a ship such as this.

“Now that we have established who is in charge here,” Vader said, allowing some of his triumph to seep into his voice, “I have other business to attend to.” He wanted Obi-Wan to know that he wasn't his top priority. Even though he was. “Try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone.” With one last look at the bound, naked man on his bedroom floor, Vader turned and left with a flourish of his cape, retreating to his adjoining sitting area. He didn't actually have any matters to attend to that were more pressing than the one currently in his bedroom, but he liked the idea of leaving Obi-Wan to squirm for awhile.

Vader spent some time reading reports, and purposefully ignored a message from his Master. The Emperor had probably heard that Vader's ship, the Defiant, had deviated from its course to Neskya, where he was to oversee the transition of several mid-level officials. The whole mission was meaningless, really, as just about any upper-level Imperial officer could have done the job. So when Vader had intercepted the message from the Trinity that they had a captured Jedi on board, he had not hesitated to disregard his orders in favor of acquiring the Jedi. And he did not regret it one bit. If his Master had gotten a hold of Obi-Wan first, he probably would have killed him before even letting Vader have a go at him. But of all the Jedi, Obi-Wan should be, and now was, his to deal with.

Deciding that an hour was enough time, and seeing how he was too distracted to get much done anyway, Vader abruptly stood and headed back to his bedroom. Obi-Wan was still chained to the foot of his bed, as he had been when Vader had left. But he was most definitely not squirming, and if anything he looked more calm than he had when Vader had left. He appeared to be meditating, of all things.

Perhaps giving him some time alone had not been the best course of action.

Vader stalked over to Obi-Wan and stood in front of him, legs spaced apart in an intimidating stance. “Stand up,” he ordered. Obi-Wan gave him a mild glare but obeyed, much to Vader's pleasure. He then moved slowly around behind Obi-Wan and leaned close to his neck, breathing near Obi-Wan's ear as he wrapped an arm around his chest. Deliberately, he ran his tongue up the curve of the other man's neck to his ear, which he then bit.

Obi-Wan shuddered minutely, but boldly turned around to face him. “Don't do this,” he implored. “You may not like what comes of it.”

“I'll be the judge of that, Obi-Wan,” Vader replied as pushed Obi-Wan down onto the bed with the Force and his own strength. Vader held Obi-Wan down with the Force while he undressed, and then climbed on the bed to straddle Obi-Wan, pinning him to the bed with his own substantial weight. Feeling Obi-Wan tense beneath him as if poised for action, Vader leaned down until his face was mere centimeters from Obi-Wan's. “Go ahead and struggle. But don't think you can make me kill you before I'm done with you,” he said in a calm, deadly voice.

Obi-Wan met his gaze with an equally determined look. “Good to know,” he said, a hint of challenge entering his tone.

So, Obi-Wan was going to make this difficult . . . good. Vader allowed himself a feral grin as he forcibly spread Obi-Wan's legs apart, which was no easy task as they seemed more inclined to kick him than allow him entry. Looking down at the firm, writhing body beneath him, Vader found himself almost immediately and painfully aroused, and he swiftly and brutally began to enter it as it struggled under his touch.

------

Anakin was gone.

It was morning, though one would never know it by looking out the window. Obi-Wan lay still on the bed that he remained cuffed to, watching the stars streak by as the ship carried him closer to an inevitable end. Obi-Wan shifted slightly in another futile attempt to get comfortable, and winced at the pain that flared throughout his body. He hurt in a multitude of places, from the raw bite marks on his neck to the dark bruises on his shoulders from where his former apprentice had held him so forcefully. Though it was the more . . . sensitive parts of his anatomy that hurt the most, and, by the look of the blood on the sheets, had only recently stopped bleeding. Last night had been painful, but he would heal. If he was allowed to live long enough, that is.

Obi-Wan had expected Anakin to toy with him and perhaps torture him, yes; but he most definitely had not expected rape. But then, even before he had turned Anakin had been a passionate young man; and, if what Padmé had told him was any indication, this extended to his sexuality as well. So it really shouldn't have been such a shock to him that Anakin would rape him as a way to dominate him and cause him pain; yet it was. And it had hurt, so much more than just physically. Now, more than before, Obi-Wan realized that the young man that he had loved was gone.

But Obi-Wan was a Jedi. Unlike the Sith, he was not a slave to his emotions -- even now.

Chapter 3

Vader strode confidently down the corridor towards his quarters, eagerly anticipating what awaited him there. Last night had been positively orgasmic, and not just literally. There was something incredibly erotic and sensual about forcing sex on his former Master, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. Palming open the door and heading directly to his bedroom, Vader paused in the doorway for a moment and took in, with great relish, the sight of Obi-Wan on his bed; naked, bloody, and beautiful. But as much as he liked his handiwork to be visible, the blood just had to go. There was no way that he was sleeping in that mess, and he decided to try to be a bit neater next time.

Approaching the bed, he saw that Obi-Wan was looking at him. He had the same calm expression on his face, but there was something else there as well that made Vader slightly uneasy. Ignoring the feeling, Vader moved closer and undid the cuffs that he had used to keep Obi-Wan on the bed after they had finished last night. “Clean up,” he ordered brusquely, motioning towards the 'fresher unit. “You will wear what I give you.”

Obi-Wan seemed to ignore him, but rose stiffly and made his way gingerly to the 'fresher and shut the door behind him. And Vader allowed it, because as much as he would have enjoyed watching, he had to order the bed changed and find something for Obi-Wan to wear. And damned if he would allow him the dignity of dressing like a Jedi. He had ordered one of his underlings to find something appropriately revealing and humiliating, but there had been nothing delivered to him yet. Making a note to severely inconvenience said underling, Vader strode over to his own wardrobe and began rifling through it. Though he doubted Obi-Wan would care to wear anything that belonged to a Sith Lord, he decided that most of his own garments were far too dignified anyway. So, he would have to find something else.

A few minutes later Obi-Wan stepped out of the 'fresher, clad only in a scant black towel. His hair, still wet, clung to his neck and face in stark contrast to his ghost-like skin. Piercingly blue eyes looked at him, in both question and challenge, making Vader want to slam the other man into a wall right then and there. But he would restrain himself and wait, allowing the tension to build up; but for who, he was not sure.

“Get dressed,” Vader said, gesturing imperiously towards the bed.

Obi-Wan walked over to the bed with obvious difficulty, and eyed the clothes that lay on it dubiously. “I'd prefer the towel,” he said dryly as he sat down on the edge.

“You will wear them,” Vader said menacingly. “It matters little to me which one of us puts them on you.” Though he rather hoped that Obi-Wan would refuse, so he could put the clothes on that lithe body himself.

Glancing to the side, Obi-Wan let out a quiet sigh that was a mix of resignation and exasperation, but dropped the towel and began to pull on the clothing that Vader had found for him. It was a lovely, finely made outfit of cream colored silk, consisting of a sheer sleeveless top and cropped, clingy pants. It was a just a bit tighter on Obi-Wan than it was meant to be, but that only added to its appeal. As Obi-Wan slid it over his slim, well-muscled body, Vader felt a pang of fondness at the sight of the familiar garment being worn again, but quickly squashed it.

“I do hope Padmé will forgive me for borrowing her night clothes without asking,” Obi-Wan said with a humorless smile. “Or did she give them to you?” he asked flippantly.

Vader felt anger boil up in him at the unwanted reminder of his traitorous former wife, and he stalked over to glower at Obi-Wan. “I will do what I please with them. As I will with you,” he said threateningly.

“Haven't you already?” came the maddeningly calm reply.

“Do not fool yourself into thinking that I would let you die so easily,” Vader replied coldly as he once again chained Obi-Wan to the bed. “There's still so much more fun to be had.”

------

After thoroughly groping him and biting him in several glaringly obvious places, Anakin had left Obi-Wan alone again, still chained to the bed. Obi-Wan was beginning to rather dislike the bed, and wished he could just sit on the floor. Unfortunately, the bed was large and the chain of his cuffs was short, so he was stuck on it. Removing the cuffs would not be too difficult, but it would not help him escape and his situation was bad enough that he didn't feel the need to provoke Anakin any further.

Somehow, he had the distinct feeling that things were going to get much, much worse before they got any better. His prediction, minus the getting better part, proved to be true later that evening when Anakin returned. The young Sith seated himself and Obi-Wan at a small table, and eyed Obi-Wan with a predatory gaze as he went about eating his evening meal.

“Eat,” Anakin commanded, but Obi-Wan just shook his head. Though the guards that had checked on him during the day had let him use the 'fresher, they hadn't fed him, so he was quite hungry. But he could easily go without food for the amount of time that he had remaining to live, and he didn't want to give Anakin the satisfaction of having yet another thing to hold over him. “Always the stubborn one,” Anakin commented with a smirk as he slid a forkful of meat into his mouth. “But that is your problem, not mine,” he said after he had finished chewing.

Not wanting to give his captor any topic for further discussion, Obi-Wan simply sat patiently at the table. Clearing his mind, he closed his eyes and reached out to the Force to find his inner calm. It hummed around him reassuringly, soothing his jangled nerves, and taking his worry.

A hard slap across his face brought him abruptly back from his meditations. “Stop that.” Anakin said harshly, looking somewhat rattled. “I didn't say you could do that.”

“I hardly require your leave to meditate, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said calmly. He knew that his words would only anger Anakin, but at that moment he couldn't bring himself to care.

Anakin carefully placed his fork back down on the table. “It seems that I have still not made it clear who is in charge here,” he said deliberately, narrowing his eyes. Before Obi-Wan knew what was happening, Anakin was in his face and hauling him over to the bed again for a repeat of last night.

And thus a pattern was formed. Several days passed, each one of which Obi-Wan spent meditating and watching the stars streak by while chained to the large, much-loathed bed. In the evening Anakin would return and have evening meal, which Obi-Wan refused, save for some water. And then he was shoved onto the bed, violated, and forced to sleep next to the man who had done it.

All in all, it was not a pleasant existence, and Obi-Wan was beginning to wish that Anakin would kill him already and get it over with, since escaping from the bowels of a galaxy-class Imperial war ship was beyond even his abilities.

But on the fifth day, something changed; the stars stopped streaking by. Morbidly and irresistibly curious, Obi-Wan escaped from his cuffs, not caring by now what Anakin would do in retaliation. He padded over to the window on the far side of the bedroom, taking care not to jar his abused body, and his eyes widened at the sight that greeted him. Having called it home for so much of his life, Obi-Wan instantly recognized the city-planet of Coruscant, even from above. But Imperial City was nothing like the home that he had known.

“We have arrived.” Anakin's smooth, cold voice from behind him caused him to start slightly, and he mentally berated himself for having let his attention wander. “My Master the Emperor is most anxious to see you.”

So perhaps this was how he was to die; at the hands of Darth Sidious. It would surely be painful, but a small part of him was glad that Anakin would probably not be the one to kill him.

Chapter 4

Vader eyed the slight figure that stood beside him critically, but tried to do so in a subtle manner. In the five days since he had taken Obi-Wan as his prisoner, the Jedi had become even paler than he normally was and unhealthily thin. Bruises covered what could be seen of his body, and Vader observed with some pride the bite marks that marred the graceful neck. He admitted to himself, reluctantly, that he was actually enjoying having the Jedi around. It was rather nice to have someone around that didn't quiver in fear at his first sign of ill-temper, and the sexual activity provided him much needed release. Certainly, he could have any number of attractive men and women in his bed at his whim, but that was hardly the point.

As if sensing his scrutiny, Obi-Wan turned his head up to look Vader in the eye. Vader looked away abruptly, inexplicably embarrassed at having been caught looking.

“Come,” he said brusquely as he stepped out of his quarters on the Defiant and headed to disembark. Obi-Wan trailed after him reluctantly, still cuffed at the wrists but not otherwise guarded. They were on an Imperial ship docked at the Imperial Palace in Imperial City, and Vader knew that even Obi-Wan had the sense not to try any daring escapes here. As they headed out of the hanger bay, Vader considered, for the first time, what he was going to do with his captive. He had planned to kill Obi-Wan fairly promptly, and thus had not counted on having him around still by the time he arrived back home.

Yet here he was in the Imperial Palace, with Obi-Wan walking at his side. He wasn't quite sure when, but at some point in the past few days he had decided that killing the Jedi would not be the best course of action. He would enjoy the diversion that Obi-Wan provided, and told himself that death was far too kind a fate for his old Master, who seemed to almost welcome it. Better to degrade him by keeping him as a plaything of sorts.

Going over his options, Vader decided to go with what he already knew would work and keep Obi-wan with him in his private chambers; Force only knew they were large enough. Satisfied with his decision, Vader walked swiftly through the halls of the Imperial Palace towards his chambers, slowing his pace only slightly for Obi-Wan, who was moving slower than usual. Stopping so abruptly that Obi-Wan nearly ran into him, Vader pushed open the large doors to his private chambers and stepped inside, pulling Obi-Wan in after. He then turned around to face Obi-Wan. “Welcome home,” he said mockingly, spreading his arms. “You had best get used to it.”

Without another word, Vader turned and went into his office, leaving Obi-Wan alone in the sitting room, hopefully to wonder about his fate. The room was locked and secure; he wasn't concerned that Obi-Wan could escape. He sat down at his desk to prepare a report for is Master, but found his mind wandering to other matters that were both more and less important. More specifically, how to bring up the matter of Obi-Wan to his Master. Surely, the Emperor would wonder why he wanted to keep a Jedi, and Vader was absurdly reminded of how he had felt as a young Padawan asking his Master if he could keep a wild animal that he had found as a pet.

Banishing such ridiculous thoughts from his mind, Vader prepared his report, and finally sent it after several half-hearted revisions. Surely his Master would be displeased that he had taken Obi-Wan for himself, but Vader would deal with that issue when the time came. Having settled that, he turned his attention to more practical matters.

-------

Obi-Wan was somewhat at a loss. What had Anakin meant when he had called this place his home? He doubted that Anakin would keep him alive for much longer, and if he did he surely wouldn't keep him in his own private chambers. At least, he hoped not. Quite honestly, a hard bunk in a detention cell was looking downright appealing in light of recent events. But by the way Anakin was talking, it would seem that he planned to keep him here for more than just a short time, and Obi-Wan really didn't want to think of the implications if that was the case.

His battered, sore body was tired from the short trip and Obi-Wan allowed himself to sit down on the couch and close his eyes briefly as he let his body re-energize itself. He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, but it seemed like only a moment passed before he sensed that Anakin had returned to the room. He didn't bother to open his eyes right away, but asked off-handedly, “Well, now what are you going to do with me?”

No reply was forthcoming, and he opened his eyes to see Anakin frowning. But not at him, surprisingly enough. “Surely you must be getting tired of keeping me around by now,” Obi-Wan remarked, and the distracted frown on Anakin's face quickly turned to a scowl that was directed at him. That was more like it.

“You are more entertaining than you give yourself credit for, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said archly as he moved closer to him, and at that moment Obi-Wan really regretted having let his guard down enough to sit. Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan by the wrists and pushed him sideways onto his back, and then got onto the couch and knelt over him. “I will be keeping you around for some time.”

“And here I was looking forward to a nice, swift execution,” Obi-Wan said dryly. “Dare I ask how long 'some time' is?”

“So sorry to disappoint you, my old Master.” Anakin smirked. “But I have decided to keep you. You make a fine toy.”

By the triumphant look on Anakin's face, Obi-Wan realized that he must have been gaping and quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression. Surely, it was too far fetched to believe. But then Anakin bent down then and began ravaging his neck again, and Obi-Wan suppressed a shudder. “A Sith, allowing a Jedi to live? Whatever will your Master think?” he asked admonishingly, hoping that the thought would distract Anakin enough to get him off of his neck, which it did. Anakin drew back abruptly, and Obi-Wan was startled by the dark look that his former apprentice wore.

“It doesn't matter what my Master thinks; you are mine, not his. I'm not his slave, and I can do what I please in this,” Anakin said, sounding confident to the point of it being forced.

“How reassuring,” Obi-Wan replied sarcastically, though he was not the least bit reassured. But then again, the way things were going with Anakin, he might actually prefer the inevitable torture and death that Palpatine would surely want to inflict on him. Surely, Force-lightening couldn't be much worse than what Anakin had done to him every night they'd been together so far.

“Good,” Anakin breathed as he looked down directly into Obi-Wan's eyes. “Because tomorrow morning, he wants to see you. And I will allow it.”

Obi-Wan sincerely doubted that Anakin could 'allow' Palpatine anything, but he didn't see any reason to tell him that just now. If Anakin hadn't figured that out already, then he was only deluding himself. Though it seemed highly probable that he, rather than Anakin, would be the one to suffer for it.

“Enough of this talk,” Anakin said impatiently, getting up off of the couch. “I don't keep you around for that.” He then pulled Obi-Wan up and dragged him into the spacious bed room for another long, painful evening.

------

Obi-Wan was sore again, or perhaps he was still sore. He couldn't tell, but it was probably both. As always, he had resisted Anakin's sexual advances, and as always, his efforts had been rewarded only with bruises, bite marks, and aches. He winced as he sat up in bed, and rotated his shoulder experimentally as he accessed the damage that Anakin had done to it last night while pinning him to the bed. He turned his head to survey the room, which he hadn't gotten a good look at the night before, and nearly jumped in shock as he saw Anakin's sleeping form next to him. Uneasily, Obi-Wan slid out of bed, absently noting that he had not been chained to it.

Naked as he was, he paused briefly as he considered wrapping himself in a bed sheet, but then dismissed the idea. Anakin had more than seen him naked, and any display of modesty on his part would only give the young Sith further opportunity to humiliate him. He padded out into the sitting area and settled himself down on the floor to meditate, and release his thoughts of anger and hopelessness into the Force. Because as much as he needed a healing trance, he needed this more. The Force embraced him gently, allowing him to maintain the calmness and strength that he knew he would need today.

His meditations were soon interrupted as he felt the dark, turbulent presence of his former apprentice enter the room. He opened his eyes and looked up at the intimidating figure calmly, though Anakin didn't really look all that intimidating with his hair sticking up and his chest bare.

“Get dressed,” Anakin said tightly. “You have an audience with the Emperor.” He then stalked off to another room that Obi-Wan guessed to be an office or study.

Somewhat miffed that Anakin had assumed he would obey, Obi-Wan nonetheless rose and went back to the bedroom, and then gingerly pulled on the clingy blue tunic set that was laid out on the bed. Looking the clothes over, he concluded that they had not belonged to Padmé, as had the other clothes that he had been made to wear since his capture. No, these were new, and obviously very expensive judging by the tailoring and the feel of the fabric.

The thought of Anakin buying him clothes like this made him feel slightly ill. And lovely as they were, he would never wear them willingly.

Least of all to an audience with a Sith Lord.

Chapter 5

“Come closer, little Jedi,” commanded the gravelly voice from inside the Emperor's audience chambers.

Reluctantly, but with a quiet calm, Obi-Wan stepped forward to stand before Sidious. They looked each other over for a moment, silently appraising, before the Sith let out a low, rolling laugh.

“My apprentice has fine taste, if nothing else,” he remarked as his eyes traveled over Obi-Wan's body. “Though it hardly makes up for his lack of good sense,” he snarled.

“That may be the only thing that we agree on,” Obi-Wan replied coolly, looking Sidious in the eye.

“Indeed,” Sidious said with a dangerous smile. “And through you I shall teach him his error and his place.” With a vicious grin, Sidious spread his fingers as force lightning leapt from them, striking Obi-Wan with white-hot pain. He doubled over, but did not cry out as the assault continued, for how long he couldn't say. He then felt himself being lifted off the ground by a ripple of dark energy, and with a wave of Sidious's hand he was flung back against the wall. He hit it, hard, and slumped down to the ground. His head hurt, and the room suddenly seemed to get darker as he hazily registered Sidious's horrific face above him. “I will be watching you with my apprentice, Jedi,” the Sith hissed, and he seemed to be saying something else, but it was all a haze to Obi-Wan as he slipped into greyness.

Abruptly, he started awake, only to find that the audience chamber was now empty. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious for, but he figured it couldn't have been too long as he wasn't stiff from sitting in such an awkward position. But between his injuries from Anakin and the assault from Sidious, moving was still quite an effort. Painfully, he pulled himself to his feet and stumbled out of the chambers, fighting the oblivion that threatened to overcome him again.

He was overcome by a wave of dizziness, and the last thing that he remembered before passing out was being caught and cradled by a pair of familiar, black-clad arms.

------

Vader fumed silently as he carried the unconscious Jedi back to their chambers. His Master had assured him that he only wanted to question the Jedi, and that Obi-Wan would be returned to him intact. Nevertheless, Anakin had decided it would be wise to wait for Obi-Wan outside of the Emperor's audience chambers, just in case something came up. A few minutes after Obi-Wan had gone in Vader had gotten a distinctly uneasy feeling, but it had not prepared him for the sight of Obi-Wan stumbling out of the Emperor's chambers, blood dripping onto his delicate new clothes.

Vader had quickly moved towards Obi-Wan, intending to give him a tongue-lashing for having provoked the Emperor, but the other man had simply fallen into his arms, unconscious. He carefully lifted him as if he were no more than a child, and was somewhat disturbed by how little weight there was to carry. Vader briefly considered taking him to the medical wing, but quickly dismissed the idea in favor of simply returning with him to their quarters.

He stalked down the wide hallways, directing a menacing glare at anyone who dared to stare at them. Throwing open the doors, he went directly to the bedroom and flung back the blankets with the Force, and then laid Obi-Wan on top of the bed. Obi-Wan had not stirred at all, and Anakin suppressed an unwanted twinge of worry as he sensed how weak the other man was. Promising himself that he would punish Obi-Wan for his insolence later, Vader tentatively reached out to grasp a long-untouched part of the Force and directed the warm, bright energy towards Obi-Wan. Satisfied with his work but strangely shaken, Vader pulled the blankets over the unconscious man and left the room.

------

Obi-Wan returned to consciousness only partially, as though a heavy shroud of darkness was slowly being lifted. He felt someone pull the blankets off of him, indicating that he must be in a bed, and something cold and metal touched his neck. He shivered as the cold air came into contact with his bare chest, and even that small motion was painful.

“For a medic you seem rather inept and keeping your patients comfortable.” Anakin's icy voice filtered into his consciousness. Suddenly, the cold metal was removed, and the blankets were on him again.

“My apologies, Lord Vader,” an unfamiliar voice replied stiffly.

“Well?” Anakin asked testily.

There was a brief silence before the unfamiliar voice that Obi-Wan figured belonged to a medic replied. “Oh, yes, of course . . .”

Obi-Wan lost his hold on the conversation then as the ache in his head seemed to reach a crescendo. A nearly inaudible moan escaped his lips, and he turned his head away from the noise that was buzzing by the bed. The noise gradually faded away then, and he allowed himself to do the same as unconsciousness beckoned once again.

------

“You are dismissed.” Vader said curtly as he waved the medic away. The man gave a quick bow and hastily departed. And a good thing for him, too, because Vader was in a particularly foul mood.

Obi-Wan would be fine, the medic had said; he just needed rest. Complete and total rest, most of which would consist of sleep. Had anyone been feeding him, the medic had asked? And perhaps, he'd suggested, it would be a good idea to stop, ah, beating him so often? It's best to think in the long term, the man had advised him knowingly.

Grudgingly, Vader admitted that perhaps he would have to re-think how he dealt with Obi-Wan now that he would be keeping him. As diverting as the added violence was, it really wasn't a necessity for his continued sexual enjoyment, and over time he knew that it would only lead to the physical break down of his lovely new companion. Which would mean, of course, no more sex at all. And the same went for Obi-Wan's refusal to eat; it was simply not acceptable anymore. Surely Obi-Wan would agree with his logic.

Night had fallen, and Vader sat down for the evening meal, refusing to notice the empty place across from him. He then read a few rather dull mission reports, but found that he couldn't concentrate as well as he'd have liked. Abandoning his efforts, he headed back to his bedroom and changed into a pair of sleep pants before slipping quietly into the bed beside Obi-Wan's unnaturally still form. Vader was tense and could have used the relief of another stimulating sexual encounter with Obi-Wan, but the Jedi looked far too weary and fragile to be of any use just then. So Vader left him alone.

Sleep did not come easily, that night.

------

The following morning Vader rose early as he always did, somewhat irritable from the poor night's sleep. He dressed with his usual efficiency, but before he left the room he found his gaze drawn to the slim, slumbering form in his bed. His expression softened briefly, but he quickly turned away and left the room before . . . . what, he didn't know.

Today, Vader would take the steps necessary to ensure that he would be able to keep Obi-Wan properly. Starting with first meal. He took the meal from the Palace servant who was waiting at the door and hastily ate his portion before he took the rest back to the bedroom. Unsurprisingly, Obi-Wan was still asleep. Vader debated for a moment whether he should let him sleep more or wake him up to make him eat, but his impatience won out in the end.

“Wake up.” Vader ordered the sleeping man. But Obi-Wan was even worse at obeying when he was asleep than when he was awake, and he didn't show any sign of having heard Vader's command. Almost hesitantly, Vader reached out and shook the bony shoulder as he repeated himself more forcefully. “Wake up, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan practically sprang upright at his touch, and an expression of pain flitted across his face at the sharp movement. Vader gave him what he considered to be a patient look and motioned towards the tray of food on the table. “Here. Eat,” he said brusquely.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at him, a sign that Vader knew was not good for his cause. The Jedi said nothing, and simply looked at him for a moment in a manner that made him want to fidget as he might have as a Padawan. Obi-Wan then gingerly scooted over to the other side of the bed, got up, and made his way unsteadily out of the bedroom.

It was then that Vader had the distinct feeling that keeping a Jedi would not be as easy as he had thought it would be.

Chapter 6

Of all the things he might have expected to wake up to, Anakin bringing him a tray of food was certainly not one of them. Neither the sight of Anakin nor the food was particularly appealing though, and he made what he hoped was a clean escape from the room. He wanted to go ever to the window to meditate, but before he made it even halfway across the sitting area his legs buckled under him and the room began to spin. Before he could hit the floor, though, a strong arm wrapped itself around his waist and held him upright.

“I don't recall giving you permission to get up.” Anakin scowled down at him as he steered him back to the bedroom. Firmly, but with a surprising gentleness, Anakin pushed him back down onto the bed and flung the covers back over him. Obi-Wan's head was swimming and his limbs felt like mush, so he didn't bother to muster up the energy to protest.

“I don't know what you said to the Emperor, but whatever it was you were foolish to say it. He is my Master, and since you belong to me you must show him more respect if you wish to survive future encounters with him,” Anakin scolded him.

More than slightly annoyed by Anakin's declaration of ownership, but not feeling up to a useless argument, Obi-Wan simply leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes, quickly sinking into sleep.

Anakin would have none of that, though, and Obi-Wan felt a hand grab his chin and pull his head to face its owner. “I didn't say you could go back to sleep, either,” Anakin told him irritably.

Obi-Wan dragged his eyes open and met Anakin's gaze. “Make up your mind, then,” he said tiredly. He was too weary to play whatever game Anakin was playing now.

“Eat.” Anakin repeated forcefully.

“That would be rather a waste, don't you think?” he said flippantly. Despite Anakin's earlier threat, Obi-Wan doubted that he would be keeping him alive for more than a short time.

Anakin was angry now, Obi-Wan could tell. But his weakened body was already beginning to shut down, and sleep took him before he had a chance to hear Anakin's reply.

------

Vader stalked out of the bedroom, seething from his failed encounter with Obi-Wan. Clearly, the man hadn't taken him seriously when he'd said that he was going to keep him.

Vader hated it when people didn't take him seriously. Especially Obi-Wan.

And if trying to get him to eat was this difficult, he couldn't imagine how he could get Obi-Wan to stop fighting him so much every time Vader wanted to have sex with him. But hopefully, Obi-Wan's sense of self preservation would kick in as soon as he realized that Vader wasn't going to kill him anyway.

But how to get Obi-Wan to take his declaration seriously, before he wound up killing himself with his own stubbornness?

Vader headed to his study to ponder this while looking over various reports and inquiries. It was dull work. A Senator from Corellia requesting a different liaison, the Bothan Secretary submitting a planetary taxation report, the Monarch of Kahlshar requesting Imperial acknowledgment of his new Consort . . . Vader paused as he skimmed over this last report, and read it a bit more carefully. A Consort, by Imperial Galactic Standards, was someone who provided companionship and possibly sexual services to someone in a position of power, but that had no political powers or rights other than those that their Master or Mistress granted them. And, he noted with malicious delight, it seemed that Consorts were allowed to accompany their 'partners' anywhere.

If the Monarch of Kahlshar could have a Consort, then Vader figured that he, the second most powerful person in the Galaxy, should be able to have one as well. It was decided then. He would make Obi-Wan his Consort, thus accomplishing two goals at once. Not only would Obi-Wan realize that he was serious, but Vader would be able to humiliate and control him further by forcing Obi-Wan to accompany him on official Imperial business and behave properly.

Unusually pleased with himself, Vader turned to the com unit. He had arrangements to make.

------

When Anakin returned to his bedroom that evening, Obi-Wan was still asleep. He didn't stay that way for long, though, as Anakin shook his shoulder incessantly until Obi-Wan woke up, wincing at the contact.

“Sit up,” Anakin ordered, and roughly shoved some pillows behind him to prop him up. Obi-Wan eyed Anakin warily, and suppressed the urge to sigh in annoyance as Anakin deposited a tray of food on his lap. “Eat.” Anakin folded his arms and glowered at him.

Obi-Wan hadn't eaten for many days, and not only was he not hungry but he was also somewhat nauseous due to his spinning head. Obi-Wan looked down at the food, and then up at Anakin. “I honestly don't know what you're up to, Vader, but I hardly see the point of this,” he said calmly.

“Let me make it clear for you, then,” Anakin said with just barely contained ire. “You are mine. I am keeping you, alive. You won't escape me so easily by starving to death.” Anakin moved closer, then, and bent over the bed so that his face was just centimeters above Obi-Wan's. “And if you still refuse to eat, I will have a medic come and supply you with parenteral nutrition, which would be even more of a 'waste',” he threatened. Anakin then pressed a data pad into Obi-Wan's hands before returning to his chair at the bedside, looking unaccountably pleased with himself.

Any remaining doubt Obi-Wan may have had regarding Anakin's intentions quickly vanished as he looked over the contents of the data pad. It was a condensed version of the daily Imperial Newsnet broadcast, and it seemed that he was the top story.

IMPERIAL CONSORT ANNOUNCED

In a surprising move, His Imperial Lordship Lord Vader has announced that he has taken a Consort. Lord Vader, second in power only to His Imperial Highness Emperor Palpatine, has chosen not to actually name his new Consort, referring to him simply as “Ben”. All further inquiries as to the nature of his Consort have been politely refused, though it is likely that he will be available for viewing at Lord Vader's next official appearance. It is traditional . . . .

Obi-Wan's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and he shook his head at the wording of the article. “What have you gotten yourself into?” He admonished Anakin, a hint of amusement creeping into his tone despite his initial horror. As absurd as it was that he, a Rebel Jedi, should be an Imperial Consort, somehow Obi-Wan was not terribly surprised. Anakin had always been impulsive, and prone to taking drastic measures to reach his goals. And Darth Vader was no different.

“You may want to ask yourself the same question, my Consort,” Anakin replied smugly. “Enjoy your meal,” he said mockingly before exiting the room.

Obi-Wan let out a small sigh and looked down at the tray, filled with fine fruits, soup, and tea, fitting fare for someone who had been ill. If Anakin wasn't going to kill him, and keep him prisoner instead, then Obi-Wan may very well be stuck here for a very long time. Unless he tried to escape, of course. When faced with the choice of impending execution or certain death in a dangerously impossible escape, there really wasn't much to consider.

But now that execution was no longer impending, he faced a different choice. With time and planning, perhaps death would not be so certain and success more likely if he should attempt escape. But of course, if he wanted to do that he would have a much better chance if he were in good physical health.

Picking up a fork, Obi-Wan stabbed at a piece of melon and popped it into his mouth.

Chapter 7

“ . . . peripheral part of the system. Conversely, the overall trade revenues could benefit only marginally if the upper quadrants were redirected through the cluster to the . . .”

Vader tuned out the droning voice of the Lieutenant as he went on about something having to do with trade routes. The Treasurer and the Commanders present would be the ones to make the final analysis and present it to the Emperor; Vader was here only as a formality. But he was still, unfortunately, here. It was getting late, well past time for last meal, and he should be back in his chambers right now enjoying the delectable body of his Consort.

In the past few weeks, he had gotten rather used to having Obi-Wan around, and Obi-Wan seemed to be adjusting to his position under Vader quite well, both literally and figuratively. The Jedi ate, now, and while he didn't exactly participate in their sexual encounters, he had at least stopped forcing Vader to hurt him so much. Obi-Wan did struggle a bit, though, and just thinking about that nubile body writhing under his was enough to make him harden right then. Uncomfortably, Vader shifted in his seat, and tuned back into the conversation again.

“ . . . favorable ratios have been calculated via several different methods, including the . . . “

That Lieutenant was still droning on.

“Lieutenant,” Vader interrupted him coldly. “What time is it now?” he asked in the tone that one uses to speak to small children and idiots.

The Lieutenant blinked and looked back at him uncertainly, and then looked down at his chrono. “Twenty-one hundred and fourteen hours?” he ventured.

“Indeed. And what is it time for?” Vader continued.

There was a brief pause before a hesitant answer came. “Ah . . . nothing?”

Vader leaned back and steepled his fingers. “Yes, Lieutenant, nothing. And as close as this long-extended presentation comes to that, it is still wasting my time,” he said testily.

The Lieutenant paled, and the others in the room remained silent. “My apologies, my Lord,” the Lieutenant stammered. “I believe we are finished here.” He bowed, and hurriedly began to put away his data.

“You are all dismissed,” Vader intoned, and then stood and turned to leave without so much as a look back.

Even before he reached his chambers, Vader knew that something was wrong. He flung open the doors and stalked inside, looking first in the sitting room, then in the bedroom, and even in his study. But his search was fruitless.

Obi-Wan was gone.

------

Obi-Wan was so close, and yet so far. The Palace's hanger was mere meters away from his current position – which was pinned around a corner across the hall from it. After carefully observing the times that the guards changed, and waiting for a night that Anakin was out, Obi-Wan had made his move. It had taken judicious use of the Force in some instances, but he had managed to get this far without any significant difficulties. That is, until now. Storm troopers had suddenly closed in on him from either side of the hallway, bombarding the short span that he needed to traverse with blaster fire. With his lightsaber, he would have stood a good chance of making it across; but without it, his odds were much slimmer.

But it was a risk he was willing to take. Moving with blinding speed, Obi-Wan sprinted across the hallway in a near leap, gritting his teeth in pain as a bolt tore through his right thigh. He landed gracefully in the small alcove that led to the hanger, and quickly keyed open the door, which, thankfully, was unlocked. The doors slid open, and Obi-Wan stepped inside as they closed behind him.

It was over.

Slowly, Obi-Wan held up his hands as he came face to face with the Imperial Guard and a swarm of Storm Troopers.

------

Obi-Wan sat back on the hard, narrow bunk in a Palace detention cell and looked up at the ceiling with a quiet sigh. This was not where he had hoped to be by now. But he supposed that it was better than Anakin's private chambers, anyway, and hopefully Anakin would leave him here for the night. Though now that he had tried once to escape, he had no doubt that it would be more difficult the next time he tried. And he would try again, and keep trying until he either escaped or was killed.

But for now, he had more pressing matters to think about. His leg throbbed painfully, and was still leaking blood. He closed his eyes and entered a light healing trance, focusing his energies through the Force toward healing. His efforts were soon interrupted, though, by the taunting voices from outside his cell.

“What kind of Jedi takes a nap when he's captured?” By the sound of the voice, Obi-Wan guessed that it was not a Storm Trooper.

“Thinks he can ignore us,” came another mocking voice.

They barrier of his cell was gone, now. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and sat up, eyeing the pair of Imperial Guards warily.

“We're going to be in a lot of trouble because of you,” the brown-haired one said coolly. “Lord Vader is going to be furious that it took so long to capture you.”

“I doubt he's going to be very happy with me either, if that makes you feel better.” Obi-Wan offered dryly.

“As a matter of fact, it does,” the taller of the two said as he moved closer. “Lord Vader is leaving you here for punishment, so you won't be sleeping in your plush bed with him tonight,” he sneered. “But I've always wondered what's so wonderful about you that he keeps you around. He's never kept anyone else for more than a few days.” He stepped even closer, then, and yanked Obi-Wan off the bunk before shoving him up against the wall. “Perhaps you can show me and make up for all the trouble you've caused.”

Obi-Wan struggled to escape the touch, and suppressed a brief flare of fear. But the guard only chuckled and pressed his hips against Obi-Wan before grabbing his chin and pressing a bruising kiss against his lips. Obi-Wan endured it, mouth closed, but retaliated with a swift knee to the man's groin.

The guard stepped back for a moment, gasping, but quickly fixed Obi-Wan with a malicious glare. “I bet you do that for him too, don't you?” He chuckled. Abruptly, he brought his staff down across the back of Obi-Wan's legs, bringing him to his knees, and then stunned him with a brutal blow to his head. Then, with great deliberation, the guard flicked open a small vibro-blade and ripped off Obi-Wan's silken blue shirt and bloodied pants.

“Your Master isn't here right now, pet, it's just us,” the guard said confidently as he drew his blade lightly across Obi-Wan's throat, leaving a thin trickle of redness. “There's no escape,” he breathed into Obi-Wan's ear before sinking his teeth into his always-tender neck.

Hazily, and with a sinking heart, Obi-Wan recognized that the guard was probably right. Even supposing he could get away from this one, there was another armed guard outside of his cell along with countless Storm Troopers.

But he had been raped many times before; it was only his body, and he could endure. This time should be no different . . . in theory.

The guard unfastened his pants, then, and pressed his hardness up against Obi-Wan as he slumped against the wall, his head spinning. Obi-Wan willed his body not to tense up, so as to avoid further injury. But before he could even register the additional presence in the cell, he felt a surge of dark energy and looked back to see the guard slam into the wall and slide down into a heap, leaving a bloody streak in his wake.

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