Chapter 8

Vader ignored the garbled explanations of the guard slumped on the floor, instead slicing him cleanly through the middle with his lightsaber just as he had done to the one that had been waiting outside the cell and all the others in the immediate vicinity. “Insolent fool,” he scoffed, clipping his lightsaber back onto his belt.

Vader had almost been too late when he had sensed Obi-Wan's location as the Jedi had tried to escape, and he realized how very close Obi-Wan had come to succeeding. Fearing that he would vent too much of his anger and inadvertently harm the Jedi more than he should, Vader had decided to leave Obi-Wan in the detention cell for the night. His plans had changed, though, when he had felt a brief but unmistakable flare of fear across what remained of his bond with Obi-Wan.

With speed borne of worry that he would deny ever feeling, Vader had headed straight for the detention block and easily located Obi-Wan's bright presence. Rage had consumed him as he saw the guard forcing his naked, battered Consort to the floor, and Vader had unleashed it in the form of dark Force energy as he slammed the defiler into the wall.

Furious with Obi-Wan for being assaulted and even more furious with himself for allowing it, Vader made an effort to curb his anger before he turned to look at Obi-Wan. He looked his Consort over critically, more than slightly displeased by what he saw. The Jedi looked back at him with a slightly dazed expression, blood trickling down the side of his face.

“Stand up,” Vader said roughly. In one swift motion, he removed his heavy black cloak and draped it over Obi-Wan's naked body, not wanting to share it with the rest of the Palace. “Since you cannot seem to stay out of trouble even here, you are coming with me.”

Obi-Wan nodded uncertainly and staggered to his feet, using the wall for support when his right leg gave out under him. Noticing the dried blood on it, Vader moved over to him and steadied him with an arm around his waist. Obi-Wan tensed and looked mildly surprised, but Vader just scowled down at him and pulled him out of the detention block.

As much as Vader wanted to take Obi-Wan back to their chambers and give him a good reaming, the more sensible part of him recognized that it might be a better idea to take him to the medical wing instead.

“Where are we going?” Obi-Wan asked as he noticed their change in direction.

“To visit the medics,” Vader growled. “Because I know how you love that.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan replied, somewhat dazedly.

They entered the medical wing and Vader promptly dropped Obi-Wan onto the examining table. “But don't think I'm done with you,” he said threateningly. “You,” he directed to the medic that had just entered. “Treat him, and have him returned to my quarters no later than tomorrow afternoon,” he ordered. “And under no circumstances are you to allow him to leave before then. See that he remains secured.” His eyes narrowed menacingly.

“Yes, my Lord,” the medic replied quickly, eyeing Obi-Wan warily.

With one last look at his injured Consort, Vader turned and exited swiftly, still seething. He returned to his chambers and prepared for bed, irritated that his bed mate would not be there to provide him with a diversion.

------

The following day, Vader returned to his chambers twice before afternoon, but Obi-Wan was not there yet. Annoyed by the inconvenience and slightly worried, Vader resisted his highly inappropriate impulse to go to the medical wing before heading to a late presentation that he had agreed to attend.

By the time he returned to his chambers, it was evening. The sitting room was dark, but he didn't bother to turn on a light as he headed straight for the bedroom. A small light was on in the bedroom, and Obi-Wan lay asleep on the bed, clothed only in a thin medical tunic. Reaching out with the Force, Vader allowed himself a quiet sigh of exasperation as he sensed the reason that Obi-Wan was asleep. Apparently, the medics had taken his admonishment to keep Obi-Wan secure quite seriously, and had sedated him.

Perhaps they had heard what he had done to the guards.

Blowing out his breath, Vader shook his head in irritation as he sat down on the side of the bed beside Obi-Wan. “Once again you have escaped my wrath, Obi-Wan,” he said resignedly. Vader supposed that he could have sex with Obi-Wan anyway, but it wouldn't be the same. And it seemed that the much-needed scolding would have to wait.

Removing everything but his pants, Vader lay down on the bed next to Obi-Wan and pulled the blanket up over them both. Turning on his side, he impulsively reached out and touched Obi-Wan's smooth cheek, then drew back quickly. But Obi-Wan did not stir or show any sign of recognition, and before he could stop it Vader found his arm moving to hold Obi-Wan in a light embrace.

And Vader allowed it, just this once. Because this would never, ever happen again.

------

Sometime between last night and this morning, something had changed.

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin curiously from where he lay on couch, which was where Anakin had promptly deposited him after first meal. The young Sith had spoken barely a word since he had woken up, and now sat beside Obi-Wan's head. This positioning made Obi-Wan somewhat uneasy, but not nearly as uneasy as the look on Anakin's face did.

“You will never do that again,” Anakin told him calmly, though Obi-Wan could sense an underlying current of tension in his voice.

“Won't I?” Obi-Wan asked quietly, looking up at Anakin sadly.

“No, you won't,” Anakin replied icily, leaning down closer to Obi-Wan's face. “Because if you do, I will kill them all.” Anakin clenched and unclenched his fist beside Obi-Wan's head. “Every single person who you ever come across, every person who helps you in any way, no matter how small, and every person who you manage to get past.” Anakin drew in a ragged breath and put his mouth to Obi-Wan's ear. “I will kill every one of them, if you try to escape again,” he whispered harshly. Before Obi-Wan could respond, Anakin drew him up into his arms and pressed his lips against Obi-Wan's in a rough, desperate kiss.

Obi-Wan froze for a moment, but then pressed his palms against Anakin's chest in an effort to pull away. Struggling, he looked up into Anakin's face, but stilled in shock at what he saw there. Anakin broke the kiss abruptly, and leaned Obi-Wan's upper body down onto his lap.

“And I will catch you anyway,” he finished, directing a smoldering look down at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan took in the expression on Anakin's face with a mixture of sadness and despair. He had thought it impossible, but there it was: Anakin loved him, though Obi-Wan was sure that he didn't even know it. This dark, ruthless Sith loved him, and would kill as many people as he needed to to keep him at his side, even if he didn't understand why. And while Obi-Wan was more than willing to risk his own life to escape his hellish captivity, he would not risk the lives of innocents. And Anakin knew it.

“Why?” Obi-Wan choked out, not really directing the question towards anyone or expecting an answer. But Anakin answered him anyway.

“Because you are mine,” he said intently. “You always have been.” Anakin stroked his hair with a strange tenderness, as though Obi-Wan were a treasured pet in his lap. And Obi-Wan could only close his eyes against the touch and tune it out, refusing to let himself believe in it, and focusing instead on the Force.

Chapter 9

As a Jedi Obi-Wan had always lived a rather busy life, first as a Padawan, then as a Master, and then as a General during the Clone Wars. And even after the Jedi Purge, Obi-Wan had been an active participant in the Rebellion.

But now, as a captive Imperial Consort, Obi-Wan found that for the first time in his life he had nothing to do. Obi-Wan had no doubt that Anakin would carry out his threat if he should attempt an escape, so planning an escape attempt was no longer a consideration. And he certainly didn't have any duties to perform . . . at least not during the day, usually.

He performed katas and meditated a great deal, which allowed him to maintain his sense of self and accept his situation as it presented itself. But one could only meditate so much and do so many katas, and Obi-Wan was somewhat at a loss as to what to do with himself for much of the day. Of course, Anakin's chambers – he still refused to think of them as his – had full access to the holonet, but Obi-Wan wasn't often in the mood for mindless drivel and Imperial propaganda, absurd as it could be.

So he asked himself instead what he would have done with free time if he had had it as a Jedi. Recalling after a moment the still-unexplored aspects of his strangely acquired Aurën heritage, Obi-Wan felt that he had his answer. Between his Padawan and the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan had had precious little time to spend becoming acquainted with anything about his Aurën physiology besides his body's immediate workings. He had, however, noticed subtle and not-so-subtle differences in his Force abilities, such as the strange tenacity of his bond with Anakin. That was not something that he particularly wanted to think about, though, so he set his sights on a more potentially useful task: figuring out how to make himself invisible in the Force.

It was something that the guards from Aurën had been able to do at will, and Obi-Wan was certain that he could do it as well. He knew that the ability was within him, somewhere, but finding and mastering it would take time. And time, Force only knew, was something that he had in abundance. His mind made up, Obi-Wan seated himself and reached deep within his mind, probing and drawing out his latent abilities.

Obi-Wan had certainly not expected to make much progress right away, but his efforts were interrupted after only a couple of hours by Anakin's return. Much to his dismay, Obi-Wan had become somewhat accustomed to Anakin's dark, wild presence in the Force, and it usually didn't even disturb his meditations anymore. But there were some times that he couldn't stand to be around Anakin, so overpowering and reeking with darkness as his presence occasionally was. These times, Obi-Wan had noted, seemed to coincide with when Anakin committed large-scale atrocities and was consumed with blood lust.

And it looked like now was one of those times. Before Anakin had even entered his chambers, Obi-Wan was brought out of his meditations by the chaotic, sickening sense of his former apprentice. Anakin's aura seeped darkness and malcontent, and Obi-Wan quickly moved to the far end of the sitting room and picked up a data pad in an attempt to avoid it in the only small way that he could.

But his attempt was futile, as he figured it would be. Anakin strode confidently into his chambers, and it was only a few seconds before his gaze came to rest on Obi-Wan. “Not meditating, my old Master?” he smirked, stalking closer to Obi-Wan.

“One can only meditate so much. Surely, you of all people should know that,” Obi-Wan shot back at him, hoping that his ill-ease was concealed from the young Sith. Being so close to Anakin's dark presence was like being suffocated and fondled by oily blackness, and it took every iota of Obi-Wan's willpower to stay put as Anakin moved closer, even as the darkness receeded somewhat.

“Most meditation is a waste of time. But I hardly care what you do in my absence,” he replied dismissively. Unspoken between then was the fact that Anakin didn't consider his escaping an issue. Anakin sat down beside Obi-Wan then, hip to hip, and Obi-Wan couldn't suppress a shudder at the sickening presence. Anakin seemed to think of another explanation for his shuddering, though. Wrapping his arms around him, Anakin began to plant kisses on his neck just below his ear. “To bed. Now,” he said huskily as he stood and pulled Obi-Wan up and into the bedroom.

As Anakin pushed him down on his back onto the large, soft bed, Obi-Wan turned his face away from Anakin's and squeezed his eyes shut. Sex with the young Sith was not a pleasurable activity for him, but it was usually at least tolerable now that he had gotten used to it. But now, dark and bloodstained as Anakin's aura was, Obi-Wan didn't think he'd be able to stand the intimacy of sex. Just being around Anakin now was revolting, and he couldn't bear the thought of experiencing the closeness in the Force that they experienced during intercourse.

So when Anakin began running his hands down his thigh and pressing his hips to his, Obi-Wan fought to dislodge him, shoving him off with all his strength. Anakin was far stronger than he, though, and Obi-Wan was not surprised that his efforts failed. But he would still try. The physical pain that he knew his struggles would cause would at least help dampen the psychic pain.

Anakin paused for a moment and lifted his head, looking at Obi-Wan with a mixture of confusion and anger. “You will cooperate,” he said forcefully, attempting to capture Obi-Wan's gaze with his own hardened one. But Obi-Wan wouldn't allow it, instead turning his head away.

“No, Vader. Not tonight, not willingly, and never like when you are like this,” Obi-Wan replied quietly, his voice little more than a ragged whisper.

Anakin's gaze darkened and his expression hardened into one of anger. “I will do as I please with you.” He sat upright, straddling Obi-Wan, as he tore off both their clothing and bent down to attack Obi-Wan's neck. Obi-Wan cringed at the contact and grappled helplessly against Anakin's hold on him.

But to no avail. Anakin did as he pleased.

------

Vader rolled over in bed and almost squashed his bed mate. Shaking the sleep from his mind, he wondered for a moment why Obi-Wan was still even in their bed, as Obi-Wan usually got up far earlier than he. A quick look at the livid bruises and marks on what was exposed of his Consort's body, however, quickly reminded him of last night's . . . minor disaster. With a low growl Vader got up, making an effort not to jostle the bed too much.

Disconcerted, he stalked over to his closet and pulled on his clothes, periodically looking back towards the sleeping figure on the bed in consternation. Vader had thought that he and Obi-Wan had reached an understanding, and since he had made it clear to Obi-Wan that escape was not an option things had gone quite well. Obi-Wan didn't fight him much, and Vader didn't have to hurt him. Certainly, this was beneficial to them both, as Obi-Wan was no masochist and Vader didn't really like hurting his lovely companion. It had been entertaining for awhile, but now that the novelty had worn off he could grudgingly admit to himself that he much preferred to have a partner that he didn't have to worry about hurting. And now, thanks to the surprisingly valiant struggle that Obi-Wan had put up last night, that's exactly what he had. Bruised and battered, Obi-Wan would hardly be in any condition to provide him pleasure tonight.

But why had Obi-Wan suddenly resisted him so fiercely last night?

Almost by its own volition, his gaze wandered back to the slim figure in the bed, and he couldn't stop himself from starting slightly when he saw that Obi-Wan was awake, and looking his way.

Wasting no time, Vader growled his inquiry. “Why?”

Obi-Wan gave him a sad look. “I don't like it, Vader, even on your best of nights, but there are some nights that your aura is so tainted that I would welcome the distraction that physical pain provides rather than allow myself to sense you fully,” Obi-Wan said in a quiet, deliberate voice.

Vader considered this for a moment, silently, and then swept out of the room without giving a word in reply.

So, Obi-Wan could sense his aura. This was no surprise to him, really, as he could sense Obi-Wan's as well. Last night, some of Obi-Wan's anxiety must have been transferred to him, and the sex had left him feeling strangely ill. But what could it be that was bothering Obi-Wan? Yesterday had been a fairly normal day, consisting of a few meetings, an inspection, a mass execution, some reports . . . the mass execution. That had to be it, as he hadn't carried one out personally for some time. And Force only knew how overly sensitive Obi-Wan could be about such trivial things.

It was a shame, really, as he did rather enjoy them – but not as much as he enjoyed being with Obi-Wan every night. Mildly displeased by the loss of a pleasant past time, Vader nevertheless accepted the situation as it was and headed to get first meal.

Chapter 10

“In this, you ask too much of me.” Obi-Wan said coolly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Being forced to have sex with Anakin was a degrading, unpleasant experience. But, at the very least, it was private. Unlike this.

“You will accompany me to the Imperial celebration on Dantooine,” Anakin told him calmly, a razor edge to his voice. “Just as you have accompanied me to other such events. This is no different.”

But it was. The other three events that he had been made to attend had been a station opening, a building dedication, and an inauguration ceremony; all fairly irrelevant events. The celebration on Dantooine was in honor of the Empire's success in driving the Rebellion out of that sector. “It is different, but you know that already,” Obi-Wan said with a hint of sadness in his tone.

“It does not matter. Your face will be covered as it always is when I take you out; no one will ever know you,” Anakin insisted. “And it is my will,” he added imperiously. “You will accompany me, one way or the other,” he threatened, gesturing towards the wardrobe.

Suppressing a grimace of distaste, Obi-Wan recalled the first time that Anakin had taken him to such an event. Obi-Wan had flat-out refused to cooperate and behave as a trained lap dog, so Anakin had physically forced him into an embarrassingly revealing outfit and taken him in chains, while trying to make him engage in small-talk with the visiting Imperial dignitaries. So the second time Anakin had tried to take him out, Obi-Wan had grudgingly cooperated, dressing as ordered. And Anakin, much to Obi-Wan's surprise and relief, hadn't tried to make Obi-Wan be sociable, instead accepting that he would be silent for the duration.

So of course Obi-Wan hadn't expected to win this 'argument', but he had had to at least try. “Very well,” he said in reply, his tone dropping a few more degrees. Anakin eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but his expression soon tuned to one of satisfaction as he turned and left.

Obi-Wan reluctantly padded over to the wardrobe to get dressed. Fortunately, the pale green tunic set that had been laid out for him was actually rather tasteful, and far more modest than what he was given to wear at the Palace. He quickly pulled it on, annoyed by the impractical slipper-like shoes, and headed to the sitting room to wait. Momentarily, Anakin swept into the room from his adjoining study, now dressed in his formal military garb. Tall and regal, Anakin cut a dashing figure in the sleek black uniform. But Obi-Wan tried to ignore that, instead allowing himself to be amused by the fact that Anakin had dressed in his study while he had dressed in the bedroom.

Obi-Wan's amusement quickly evaporated, however, when Anakin picked up his hands and placed them in cuffs, which attached with a deceptively fine chain to the finely engraved collar that Anakin fastened around his neck. They were delicately crafted, beautiful, and, much to Obi-Wan's dismay, utterly inescapable.

“A gift,” Anakin told him with a darkly charming smile. “I foresee difficulties, today.”

“Difficulties?” Obi-Wan repeated incredulously. “I can't image.”

------

Vader was bored. He had hoped that his Consort's presence would provide him with some diversion, but Obi-Wan had been downright frigid since Vader had chained him. Not that Obi-Wan was ever any warmer than cool towards him anyway, he noted with an involuntary twinge of regret.

They had arrived at the lavish, open-air banquet not more than two hours ago, and the first course had only been served just now after several long-winded speeches. Looking at his disgruntled Consort beside him, Vader watched him pick at his food half-heartedly, rather than pay attention to the performing dance troupe. Obi-Wan, sensing his scrutiny, looked back at him with a look that only Vader would be able to recognize as a glare, and then turned away and to the side. Now both bored and irritated, Vader decided that some public humiliation was in order. Ravishing his Consort in public would certainly provide him as well as any interested spectators with entertainment, and it would also serve to remind Obi-Wan of his place.

Just as he began to move his arm towards Obi-Wan, the administrative building just to the side of the banquet area erupted in the rumbling, billowing flames of an explosion. Blaster fire pierced the air, and workers began to pour out of the crumbling structure in panic. Around him, his fellow banquet-goers radiated fear and uncertainty as they scattered in all directions. Instinctively on alert, Vader stood and reached out towards the building with the Force, sensing a small multitude of hostile presences. This, then, was surely the disturbance that he had foreseen. It seemed that the Rebels had not been as thoroughly ousted as they had thought.

He directed a quick, sharp glance at Obi-Wan, who was still seated and seemed entirely unbothered by the chaos surrounding him. “You!” he ordered the two nearby Imperial Guards that had not fled from their posts, “Escort my Consort safely to my shuttle and remain with him until I return.” The last thing he wanted was Obi-Wan getting in the middle of this mess, unarmed and chained as he was.

With a last fleeting glance back at his Consort, Vader headed swiftly towards the devastated building with only one purpose in mind. Though dealing with Rebellion activity was certainly more interesting than a banquet, the damage that had been done to Imperial property and the danger that they posed to his Consort was unacceptable

He looked forward to killing them.

------

Vader had only gotten to kill two of the Rebels, which was fewer than he'd have expected. The rest had escaped his wrath, apparently having planned for a quick getaway as soon as they caught sight of him. Cowardly as they were, Vader had to wonder why they had even bothered with the explosion and siege of the building in the first place; they certainly hadn't accomplished anything by it. But it was of no importance to him. It had provided him with a diversion from that dull banquet, and he hadn't even had to engage in any mass killings. Which was just as well, given Obi-Wan's touchiness about that sort of thing. Being relieved of daytime boredom was not worth another frustrating night with his Consort.

Having finished delegating and directing, Vader headed back towards his shuttle, and was struck with a sudden anxiousness to get home and away from here. He all but hurried aboard, expecting to be greeted by the welcome, but never welcoming, sight of his Consort. What he saw instead did not please him.

“Where is my Consort, Guard?” Vader said menacingly as he moved closer to the only other person in the small shuttle.

“I—I am sorry, my Lord,” the guard said nervously, bowing his head. “He is gone.”

“You let him escape?” Vader roared, enraged at the thought.

“No, my Lord!” the guard protested, taking a step back. “He was taken. By the Rebels. They killed Guard Trelen, and then they took him,” he said fearfully.

Rage engulfed him. Too furious to care to hear any further explanations, Vader swiftly and efficiently snapped the guard's neck with his robotic arm. But the action helped quell his anger only slightly, and a dark sense of emptiness seemed to well up within him as he allowed what had happened to sink in. Obi-Wan was gone.

The explosion and everything else had just been a distraction, and an effective one at that. Vader cursed himself for misunderstanding his premonition—again, his inner voice whispered -- and for chaining Obi-Wan that day thus making him all the more easy to capture. As he glanced down at the guard's body, Vader wished, belatedly, that he had thought to ask where Obi-Wan had been taken from. Going back outside, he quickly spotted his answer in the form of a shoe. A green, silk slipper that was entirely lovely and completely impractical. The next time he took Obi-Wan out, Vader vowed that he would give him boots.

But would Obi-Wan have even tried to escape capture? He had been a member of the Rebellion himself, but it was unlikely that his fellow Rebels had come to rescue him. There was a reason that Vader kept Obi-Wan's face veiled when there was a chance of him being seen.

What, then, could the Rebels possibly want with Obi-Wan?

Chapter 11

When he regained consciousness, Obi-Wan didn't know whether to thank his kidnappers or to try and escape them.

He had sensed their presence a while before they had sprung their trap and taken him, but hadn't bothered to do anything about it; though the guards probably would have listened to him. With the exception of the pair that he had encountered in the detention block that one time, the Imperial Guards that patrolled the Palace tended to be rather fond of him, in the way that the servants in a wealthy household would pity the pet of their employer's cruel son. It was regrettable that Anakin had probably killed the remaining one. But, still, Obi-Wan was glad that he had been able to escape Anakin's grasp, even if he now had new captors. Because surely they couldn't be any worse, and he didn't think that escaping them would be too difficult.

But he may not have a chance to escape, if Anakin caught up with his captors first. Undoubtedly, Anakin would be able to find him easily through the strangely strong remnants of the training bond that they had once shared, which had only gotten stonger in the time they'd been together. Already, he could feel Anakin reaching out towards him through the Force. But Obi-Wan did not want to be found, and decided that now would be a good time to put his new skill to use. Concentrating for a moment, Obi-Wan willed himself out of the sight of the Force, and then simply vanished. He could sense Anakin's distant anger and distress, and took this as a sign of his success.

From his vantage point in the holding cell in the small cruiser, Obi-Wan unconcernedly took in his surroundings. There were only three other people on the small vessel, a female Twi'lek and two human males, one tall and fair and the other one dark and burly. Taking a closer look at them, he found the tall one to be very familiar, but he couldn't quite place him.

“Looks like Vader's pet is awake, Commander,” the burly one commented, sticking his thumb over his shoulder in Obi-Wan's direction.

The tall Commander strode over towards the holding cell and looked at Obi-Wan with disdain. “So he is,” he commented. “He shouldn't be any trouble though, he's just a glorified whore.”

Commander . . . Obi-Wan knew this man. “I suggest you choose your words more carefully, Commander Sein,” Obi-Wan said coolly, taking a few fluid steps to the edge of his cell to face the man. “Especially when you have no idea what you're talking about,” he added lightly. Slowly and deliberately, he unhooked the veil that concealed the lower part of his face.

“How did you know my name?” Commander Sein demanded.

The Twi'lek who had been observing from the bench across from the cell spoke then, her voice quiet with shock. “General Kenobi,” she breathed.

Obi-Wan nodded his head towards her. “Yes, thank you . . .”

“Lieutenant Saayta,” she replied, inclining her head slightly in return.

“Well, Lieutenant, it appears to me that your mission was a success. But since this obviously wasn't a rescue mission,” Obi-Wan said wryly, “Why in the galaxy would the Rebellion want to kidnap an Imperial Consort?”

------

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, or at least a semi-decent one. But now, Padmé wasn't so sure. Her former husband was an intelligent and ruthless man, and she somehow doubted that he would give the Rebellion anything but trouble in exchange for his Consort. Thus, it was with great apprehension that she headed to the Yavin base's hanger to meet the successfully returning team, wondering off-handedly what her replacement, of sorts, would be like.

“Obi-Wan?” she said incredulously, catching sight of the figure that descended from the returning ship's ramp behind Commander Sein.

Obi-Wan gave her a warm, weary smile. “Padmé. It is good to see you again,” he said sincerely. “It has been too long.”

Disregarding the presence of the other officers, Padmé ran over to Obi-Wan and flung her arms around his slim shoulders. “When we heard you were captured, we thought that you were dead. I'm so glad you're safe,” she whispered, and then pulled back to look him over. Noticing for the first time his fine, elegant clothing, she asked incredulously, “What happened? And what are you wearing?” Some part of her mind knew, but she just couldn't, or wouldn't, put it together.

“They captured me, Padmé, and brought me to Vader,” Obi-Wan said gently. “And rather than killing me . . . he decided to keep me.”

Padmé could only stare back at him in shocked horror, shaking her head. “No . . .” Obi-Wan couldn't be.

“As his Consort,” Obi-Wan said deliberately, looking her in the eye with a soft, sad look.

“Oh . . . no . . .” Padmé choked out, not wanting to believe it. But the evidence was standing there before her, undeniable. “All this time, we never knew. Even now . . .” This was, or would be, a disaster. A horrible, tragic disaster.

“What is it, Padmé?” Obi-Wan coaxed, looking at her intently.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she met his gaze. “We had a plan,” she told him. “But now . . .”

------

Just as Vader had grasped Obi-Wan presence in the Force, he had lost it. It wasn't that he his concentration had slipped . . . Obi-Wan had simply disappeared, as though he had vanished from the Force. Bringing his speeder to an abrupt halt, Vader made an effort to suppress his rising despair. Surely Obi-Wan was not dead, but he may as well be if Vader couldn't rescue him and bring him back where he belonged.

His mental trail having abruptly vanished, he turned and headed back to his shuttle to return to his warship, which was in orbit above the planet. A small cruiser from the nearby space port would have been quicker, but it hardly seemed to matter now since he didn't know where to go.

And a warship, besides, would be far better fitting for his current state of mind. Somehow, he was going to hunt down and kill the Rebels that had taken Obi-Wan from him, bearing down on them with the full wrath of a Sith Lord of the Empire.

That is, of course, if his Master allowed it.

------

“Of course we will take action, my apprentice. The Rebels must not be allowed to get away with such a serious insult to Imperial power,” the Emperor assured him gravely. “But, as you informed me, you do not even know where your Consort,” he said with a slight sneer, “has been taken. How shall you proceed?” He looked at Vader expectantly, a slight challenge in his tone.

“The Rebel's threats are empty, my Master. My Consort was one of their own, and they will not kill him even if we refuse their demands,” Vader replied formally.

“If? There was never any if, Lord Vader. The Rebel prisoners shall not be released under any circumstances,” Palpatine reminded him coldly.

“Yes, my Master,” Vader replied stiffly. It was fortunate that it wasn't an issue, or he would have had to argue with his Master. Surely, Obi-Wan was worth more than a few Rebels that had been thick enough to get themselves caught, and they could always catch more. But as it was, he knew that the Rebels wouldn't even consider killing Obi-Wan. The Rebellion suffered from a weak, gentle leadership, unlike the Imperial Government, and he intended to use this to his advantage.

“I propose that we kill the Rebel prisoners, my Master, and begin concentrated assaults on all suspected past and current Rebel base locations. Even if none of them are actual bases, the Rebels will undoubtedly feel responsible for the destruction,” Vader said confidently.

“An excellent plan, Lord Vader, and one that will create ill-will towards the Rebellion among the general populace as well,” Palpatine said approvingly. “I will see that it is carried out.”

“My Master, I had hoped to do this myself,” Vader said, choosing his words carefully and schooling his features to hide his disbelief. This was something he needed to do, and that had nothing to do with the Emperor. And Vader certainly did not appreciate Palpatine interfering, Master or not.

“Remember your place, my apprentice,” Palpatine rebuked him coldly. “I have another mission for you . . .”

Chapter 12

Padmé slumped down minutely in her seat, disenheartened by the discussion going on around her.

“So are you saying that we should return him to that monster, General?” The icy tones of Mon Mothma echoed throughout the cavernous meeting room of the Yavin base.

At this point it seemed that returning Obi-Wan to Vader was the only way to stop the Imperial attacks on seemingly random locations, supposedly because they were suspected Rebel bases. But no one wanted to do that, knowing what the poor Jedi had been subjected to as Vader's captive.

“Of course not, Ma'am,” General Radiin bristled. “But we must consider all of our options . . .”

The top ranking officials of the Rebellion been going at it for hours, but kept ending up at the same place. Everyone had something to say, but it was all more of the same. Padmé, of course, had already said her piece, and had vehemently defended that Obi-Wan should not be handed over to Vader. When she had finished, Obi-Wan had graced her with a small smile, looking both grateful and sad. He had since been sitting quietly at her side, seemingly disinterested in the goings on around him that would decide his fate.

As absorbed in her thoughts as she was, Padmé didn't notice that Obi-Wan had moved until he had already stood and stepped forward to address the group. Someone who didn't know Obi-Wan as well as she would have been reassured by expression on his face, but Padmé recognized it for what it was and regarded her friend with mounting apprehension.

“My fellow members of the Rebellion,” Obi-Wan began in his usual lilting, melodious tone. “Please, there is no need to continue this discussion. Clearly, there is no satisfactory solution to this dilemma. But I cannot in good conscience allow these attacks to go on . . .”

As Obi-Wan spoke, Padmé's eyes widened slightly in disbelief. Trust a Jedi to come up with a plan like that, though she would hardly call it one at all.

------

“This, Obi-Wan Kenobi, is entirely too familiar.” Padmé sniffed quietly, raising her tear-filled eyes to meet his. Obi-Wan met her gaze fondly, and placed a hand gently but firmly on her shoulder. She had insisted on seeing him off as he departed the Yavin base, and they now stood in the hanger bay before the small Starfighter that he would be taking.

“It is the will of the Force,” he said simply. “And I must follow it.” Though he had finally been freed from Anakin's grasp, the price of his freedom was far too high. He had desperately not wanted to return, and had meditated on the matter for some time before the solution came to him. It had seemed so wrong, at first, but he had accepted and come to understand it.

“Of course you must,” Padmé replied with a hint of bitterness. “You're a Jedi, despite it all. Though don't you ever feel that your Force has betrayed you?” She asked heatedly.

Obi-Wan slowly shook his head. “How can I? There is too much that I do not know,” he said gently.

“But why? You're a good Jedi, and a good person, and look what happens to you! You're being taken away from me, probably to die. How can the Force be so . . . cruel, as to do this to you?” Padmé burst out agitatedly.

“ Padmé --” Obi-Wan tried to cut her off, but she wasn't finished.

“The Force took my husband from me years ago. I didn't understand it at first, but I learned what the dark side can do to a person.” Padmé took a deep breath. “But you are so different than him, so light. I don't understand why the Force would take you too.” She looked away from him. “The dark side took my husband, and you allow yourself to be taken by the light. I don't think I like the Force, much,” she said distantly, the bitterness gone from her voice. A single tear slipped down her cheek, unbidden.

Obi-Wan stepped closer to her, resting his forehead against hers as she put her arms on his shoulders. “The Force is not finished with either Anakin nor I yet,” he said softly, looking into the sad brown eyes just centimeters from his own. Straightening, he moved away from her and went to board his ship. “Remember that, my friend.” Obi-Wan gave her a serene smile, and Padmé returned it with a small wave.

“May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan. Since that's what you want,” she said sincerely, though Obi-Wan could read the doubt in her eyes even as he piloted the ship out of the hanger. He only hoped that his own doubt had not been so apparent.

------

The Force had been quiet as of late. Vader was far away, and there was still, vexingly enough, not a trace of Kenobi. Sidious was highly displeased that things had gotten so out of hand with the Jedi; Kenobi had clearly become a bad influence on his foolish apprentice. And this ridiculous kidnapping attempt would provide him with the perfect opportunity. He could kill Kenobi and make the Rebels appear responsible for his death, which would only strengthen his hold on Vader.

All he needed was Kenobi. How the Jedi had managed to vanish from the sight of the Force, Sidious had no idea. But there would be time enough to find out about that, as well as to partake in other amusements, when he captured the Jedi. Not if.

Abandoning his attempts to focus on Kenobi's seemingly absent presence in the Force, Sidious rose with a low growl and paced over to his expansive, sleek black desk to contact whatever underling he had assigned to head the search. As his shriveled finger hovered over the com button, he paused. There was something there that he could sense, just now, that hadn't been there before. Or rather, someone. Gradually, like a masterfully engineered explosion, a presence seemed to grow brighter and brighter on the vast plane of the Force, until Sidious could see it clearly. Blindingly bright, Sidious recognized the presense right away as Kenobi. For whatever reason, the Jedi had become visible to him again; unfortunately, that meant that Vader could sense him now as well. Undoubtedly, he would come rushing across the galaxy to reclaim his little Jedi pet, but it was of no matter. He would be finished with the Jedi long before his apprentice returned to claim him. But even if Vader did somehow manage to get back before he was finished with the Jedi, it would be of little consequence. Vader was nothing if not loyal.

He pressed his finger to the com button, and gave the orders that would be remembered for some time to come.

------

“Unidentified Starfighter, you have illegally entered Imperial space and will be detained. Stand down for tractor beam.”

“Understood,” Obi-Wan replied calmly over the com unit. Since he has 'reappeared' in the Force in the Coruscant system, it had actually taken some time for the Imperial forces to come after him since. And he knew that these Imperials were not under Anakin's command, but the Emperor's.

His ship jolted slightly as the tractor beam latched on, and Obi-Wan released the controls. Sitting back in his seat, he closed his eyes and cleared his mind, allowing the calm clarity of the Force to penetrate his mind. The ship lurched, signaling that it had been docked in the hanger of the Imperial warship. His ship's hatch slowly raised, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see the blasters of several Storm Troopers pointing down at him. Unfazed, he simply raised his hands and climbed out of his ship. They immediately slapped a pair of cuffs on his wrists, much to Obi-Wan's chagrin.

“Move, you,” one of them ordered, giving him a shove. Obi-Wan did not reply, but allowed them to lead him into the bowels of the ship until they eventually came to a stop at the end of a darkened corridor.

“The Emperor wants to see you,” one of the Troopers informed him, and the door in front of him opened with a swish.

Pausing only for an instant, Obi-Wan crossed the threshold, and the door closed swiftly behind him. The room was dark and expansive, and a view of space blanketed the back.

“We meet again, Jedi,” came an oozing voice from the black, throne-like chair that was silhouetted by the window.

“Sidious,” Obi-Wan acknowledged calmly. There was no escape now; he was the prisoner of Darth Sidious.

And that was exactly what he had planned.

Chapter 13

“It is a pleasure to have you here, Jedi,” Sidious said with a short cackle, looking him over with a malicious eye. “I have been looking forward to ridding my Empire of your disruptive presence.”

“Disruptive, is that what you call it?” Obi-Wan flung back. “And here I thought I was a good influence,” he said caustically. “Your apprentice is so easily swayed,” Obi-Wan commented, depositing a hint of smugness into his tone. He didn't actually believe that he had done a thing to change Anakin's dark ways, but Sidious seemed to think otherwise and Obi-Wan wanted to use this to his advantage. Hopefully, he could avoid a painfully drawn-out death if he angered the Sith enough. Force only knew that they were prone to such irrational bouts of rage.

“Do not overestimate your influence, Jedi,” Sidious sneered. “You are an annoyance, nothing more. Vader cares for you no more than he would care for a pet. But nevertheless, you are still an annoyance to be removed.” At this last word, Sidious raised his hand and flung a crackling blue bolt of energy at him, and Obi-Wan fell to his knees with a gasp of pain. Obi-Wan embraced the pain, and allowed it to flow through his rapidly weakening body.

Finally, the end was in sight.

------

“I am sorry, my Lord, it is simply not possible for our ship to return to the Coruscant system that quickly.”

Vader glowered down at his Captain, but acknowledged him with a nod. As angry as he was, he didn't trust himself to speak at that moment without flying into a rage. Good as it would feel, Vader knew that he really shouldn't kill Captain Lissen. After all, someone would have to take command of the ship when he left, as he certainly wouldn't be staying. He had felt Obi-Wan's presence once again over a day ago, and had immediately abandoned the useless mission that Palpatine had assigned him and headed towards where he sensed Obi-Wan was.

He had been somewhat uneasy when he had realized that Obi-Wan was in the Coruscant sector, since that meant that he was near Palpatine. It hadn't been until a couple of hours ago, though, that Vader had began to feel the beginnings of panic. Across their old bond, and across the galaxy, Vader had sensed that Obi-Wan was in pain. Excruciating, life-threatening pain. And more than anything, he wanted to stop it. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Vader recognized the possibility that Palpatine was responsible, but quickly shoved it back even further.

“I will be taking a fighter to the Coruscant system myself, then,” Vader said shortly. “I will be leaving immediately. Captain, you have command of this ship.” Without another word, Vader turned and started to leave.

“But, my Lord!” the Captain protested. “The Emperor would certainly not approve.”

Vader whirled around and fixed the Captain with a deceptively calm glare. “The Emperor and I have had a small misunderstanding. I am returning early so that it may be resolved. Unless, of course, you feel you are not competent enough to assume command?” Vader said threateningly, a dangerous undertone in his voice.

“No, my Lord, of course not,” Captain Lissen replied quickly. “Of course you must see to your business with the Emperor,” he added with a hint of nervousness.

“How good of you to approve,” Vader said mockingly. “I will be certain to remember it.” Leaving a quivering mass of nerves in his wake, Vader stalked purposefully off the bridge and headed to the hanger to rescue his Consort.

------

Anakin was coming for him. Somehow, even through the relentless barrage of pain, Obi-Wan knew this, and couldn't help but find it amusing in a twisted sort of way. Perhaps Anakin would help kill him, after all. A choked laugh escaped his lips, or perhaps it was a sob. Yet even now the Force sang around him, offering its urgent reassurances.

“So amused, are you, by your impending death?” Sidious snarled, a smile twisting his lips. “Allow me to amuse you further, then.”

------

Before he even arrived, Vader knew that he was too late.

Shortly after entering the system, he had sensed a change in Obi-Wan's presence in the Force. It had dimmed, abruptly, and Vader had nearly lost control of his ship as he had reached out enough to feel Obi-Wan's pain. He had already been flying at top speed, but had willed the ship to go faster, drawing on the unusually willing Force to aid him. And it had seemed that it would be enough.

But just as he had docked in the hanger of the Emperor's ship, he felt it. A blinding, agonizing pain coursed through Obi-Wan and echoed across their bond, and then Obi-Wan slipped away, just out of his grasp. I can't be too late! It should not have seemed so important, but it did.

Leaping out of his docked ship, he ran through the empty corridors towards Obi-Wan with Force enhanced speed. Straight to the Emperor's chambers. He normally would have shown courtesy to his Master and announced himself before entering, but it seemed too absurd now to even consider. The Emperor had not shown him any consideration in this matter, and Vader was angry and desperate enough to do the same. He flung the door open with the Force, leaving crushed metal behind him as he entered the room. He surveyed the room immediately, but could see little in the darkness but the outline of the back of a chair on the wide dais, facing the stars. He stepped around to see, suddenly wary, and nearly froze at what he saw there. Palpatine stood before the chair, dark energy crackling from his hands. A step down from him lay Obi-Wan, unmoving.

“Palpatine,” Vader said in a low, tightly controlled voice. “I have come for my Consort.”

Palpatine turned on him and gave him with a gleefully malicious look. “Of course, my apprentice. How good of you to come. Certainly, you may take the final blow for yourself; though it is hardly necessary. He was yours, after all.” Palpatine conceded with a twisted smile and a slight wave towards Obi-Wan.

Surely, Palpatine did not think that he had come all this way, and so quickly, just to kill Obi-Wan? He could have done that at his leisure. And Obi-Wan was still his. “No,” Vader choked out vehemently.

Palpatine looked at him inquiringly for a moment, and for that brief moment Vader thought that he had won. “Very well, then,” Palpatine cackled. “I shall finish him myself!”

In an flash, the Sith Lord's red blade was activated and raised to strike. Vader looked on in shock, unable to deal with the conflict raging within him. But the shock passed almost instantaneously as his internal battle was ended. There was no choice for him, now, and he wondered fleetingly if there ever had been. His body responded more quickly than his mind, and before he knew what he was doing he had drawn his own blade and turned it on his Sith Master. With one swift, elegant stroke, it was over.

He watched, detachedly, as the top and bottom half of the Sith toppled to the floor, landing with two dull thuds. It had been so easy; Palpatine hadn't planned for this. He could only stare at his red blade in his hand for a moment, and was suddenly and intensely struck by the wrongness of the familiar weapon.

Breaking free of his daze, he recalled, with mounting distress, his reason for all this.

“Obi-Wan!” He dropped the foreign blade to the floor and swiftly moved to kneel beside Obi-Wan's still form. The Jedi had not moved since he had entered Palpatine's chambers, which worried him immensely. “Obi-Wan?” he called again, softly, as he gently stroked the other man's hair. But the Jedi remained still, and he felt his heart clench as he sensed how weak Obi-Wan was. He knew, at that moment, that Obi-Wan was not strong enough to survive. It had been too much.

Curbing his fear, he reached out with the Force to Obi-Wan, and, unbidden, their old bond sprang to life. Tenacious and unnaturally durable, it had never truly died; but now it seemed to call to him. Allowing himself to be led by its urgings, he carefully lifted Obi-Wan and hugged him to his chest. “Please, live,” he whispered. “I need you.” Without a second thought he called upon the Force, once again reaching for a part of it that had become unfamiliar over time. Delicately, he drew upon the light energy, basking in its warmth as he directed its much needed strength into Obi-Wan. As the energy from the Force flowed across their bond, it flared brightly, leaving him with a sense of long-awaited completeness. So this, then, was what was to come of it all.

Obi-Wan still lay limp and unresponsive in his arms, but he no longer feared for his beloved's life. “Rest, now,” he murmured. Gently, he gathered Obi-Wan in his arms and stood.

Without a second glance at the fallen Sith, Anakin took Obi-Wan and left.

------

Something was different, now, but it was some time before Obi-Wan realized what it was.

He drifted, for what seemed to be both a few moments and an eternity, in redness. He remembered little from then other than grating pain and a distorted vision of Anakin's worried face. But it couldn't have been Anakin; Sith do not worry. He had imagined it. Closing his eyes and shutting the image out, he allowed himself to drift again.

When he woke more fully, he was aware that he was being pulled out of a bacta tank and laid on an something white and cold. He shivered, still not fully awake, as he was toweled off and bundled into a narrow medical bed. He had failed. He was still alive, and Anakin and Sidious had no rift between them, as Anakin surely would not be allowed to come here. Tired and aching from the brief activity, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and welcomed the darkness that beckoned him.

“Obi-Wan?” came a soft voice at his bedside, and a pair of hands encircled his. One of them was metal.

His eyes flew open, and he turned his head to see Anakin sitting beside him and regarded him wearily. Obi-Wan felt it, then, and would have jumped upright if he had had the strength. An intimate, light mental touch caressed him, one that was far too warm to be coming from who he thought it was.

Anakin picked up Obi-Wan's hand, then, and brought it up against his cheek with a kiss. “Yes, Obi-Wan, it's me,” Anakin said gently, his voice pained. “Anakin.” His voice cracked, and a tear fell down onto Obi-Wan's upturned face.

And it was Anakin, this time. With effort, Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin's hand with his own captive one and reached out to his wayward partner with the Force, welcoming him home.

The End

. . . for now.

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