The Fun Begins

Written by Felicia Rondo, Rated 18+, Published: 12/11/2016

Summary: Obi-Wan has had issue coping with the death of Duchess Satine, and Anakin confronts him on it - striking a deal that proves to be perhaps too successful…

Contains: Grief, Homoerotic Lightsaber-dueling, and the Dark Side of The Force.

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The anxious knight stood, frozen in place in front of the door to his master’s quarters.

He had led charges against the most impenetrable of defenses The Separatist Droid Army had ever made, faced off against some of the most feared Sith any galaxy had ever known, been revered as one of the most fearless—to a foolish extent, some would argue—Jedi the order had ever known, and yet here Anakin was – on the other side of a door he hadn’t the courage to so much as knock on. Nonetheless, one thing he wasn’t was a quitter, so, with one long delayed-exhale let out, he took a deep breath and knocked with his left hand. “Master? Master, I know you’re in there. I wish…” he began, before settling for more casual phrasing, “I… want to meet with you.”

Before long, the door slid open and he was met with the two intense, bagged, lividus eyes of his master. Obi-Wan had been nothing short of inconsolable since the passing of Duchess Satine, but Anakin could see in his eyes that it went deeper than he could’ve imagined. His gaze softened when he finally saw his apprentice but, nevertheless, Obi-Wan remained dismissive as he asked, “What do you need of me, Apprentice, to disturb me at such an inopportune time?”

Sighing, Anakin silently noted that his master must have been in an especially unpleasant mood—having decided against referring to him by name—and, taking that into account, he folded his arms boldly and answered, “I have come for your sake,” when he saw Obi-Wan roll his eyes, he continued, “Master… everyone knows you’ve not been yourself since the Duchess’s passing, and I’m concerned that it will compromise your ability to perform in battle.”

He was going to regret mentioning her.

“My naive apprentice,” Kenobi flatly, condescendingly started, eliciting a dry gulp from Anakin, “I haven’t any need for your ‘concern,’ now leave,” he ordered, baffling Anakin with his tone and behavior as his patience for the disturbance wore thin. Part of him knew he was acting wildly unlike himself, but a darkness in him would not allow him to fully realize it. Were it not for his mentioning of the Duchess, perhaps he would have been more receptive to his apprentice’s offer.

In an attempt to remain composed, amidst the shocking display of contempt, Anakin cleared his throat and responded, “I-I must confess, master, I’m not ready to give up on you s-so easily,” he put his prosthetic hand on his master’s shoulder—his natural hand was shaking, that he could not allow his master to notice—and met his gray-blue eyes once again, “I do this not only for the Republic, but for you – as an ally, an apprentice, and a friend. Let me help, master… please,” he pleaded, feeling a will to come through for the master he had looked up to for all his life, who had come through for him so many times before.

To Skywalker’s dismay, Master Kenobi’s heart merely hardened as he forcefully pushed the prosthetic arm off of his shoulder and firmly restated, “If I must repeat myself, I shall – leave now, before my patience for your infantile pleas runs out. I don’t wish for you to come to any harm, but, should you force my hand, I will do what I must to discipline you for this insubordination,” he gave Anakin an intense glare, but this time the apprentice could see a hint of anguish in his master’s eyes.

With another deep breath taken, Anakin was finding it quite a challenge to remain strong, but he reached in himself for a strength he knew had to be in there for him to be able to help his master. He made a subtle, unnoticed motion with his left hand, before he asked, “Is that a threat? Did you just attempt to intimidate me, master?”

Kenobi uncharacteristically scowled, “What does it matter? I am your master and you will follow my orders – leave, before I make you leave,” the situation was getting tenser by the moment, but Kenobi stood his ground… that is, before his former-padawan had suddenly kicked him down onto his back. “Ah!” Kenobi grunted when he landed, instinctively reaching for his blade and noticing it had left its hilt seemingly on its own, before realizing it was in the hands of the Jedi Knight before him. Several thoughts raced through his mind, but none materialized into spoken words, leaving him merely speechless while focusing his gaze up to his apprentice.

“You’re sloppy,” Anakin spat, part of him knowing in the back of his mind he was getting perhaps too much catharsis out of this, while the other side panicked, “I was able to d-disarm you in your carelessness as you made your shameful threats, an act I would not have been able to manage were you not so caught up in your grief,” he said, which truly did awaken something in Kenobi, as he attempted to jump at Skywalker, who barely dodged him—merely losing his balance for a moment before responding, “the truth makes you angry, doesn’t it? You’re not supposed to get angry, but you do, and your attempts at hiding it have only led to further turmoil in you – can you truthfully say to me that you can look into yourself and tell me that the dark side of the Force has not seized this chance to take control over you, to some extent?”

The once-composed Jedi Master’s eyes were aflame with anger, and he shouted, “Anakin!” Then, after letting out that furious shout, he saw his apprentice lecturing him on how to compose himself as a Jedi… and he couldn’t believe it. “… Anakin, I… I’m at a loss for words… I beg your pardon for… what seemed to have come over me at that moment,” Obi-Wan said, remorsefully, as the volatile fire drained from his eyes.

More than a little shaken up himself, Anakin nodded and replied, “It is… good to see you in your right mind once again, my master.” He was still tense, as Obi-Wan could tell, which led to the master reaching out to his apprentice’s shoulders and pushing them back down before giving him that wise and knowing smile the Jedi Knight knew all too well. Awkwardly, as he did everything around his master, he cleared his throat and offered, “I came with a proposition – a way to help you effectively rid yourself of this conflict within you and… once again acquire what you once had, but lost. A duel, between you and I.”

Already, the Jedi Master could feel a sort of awakening begin within him, only becoming stronger by the moment. “A duel?” He inquired, raising his eyebrow in intrigue at the Jedi Knight, who could still only approximate a look of awkward firmness in the face of his master, “I must say, Anakin, had this been proposed at any other time I would have laughed and declined, for only now—in my incredible state of disarray—would you be any sort of match for me,” Obi-Wan chuckled, eliciting Anakin to roll his eyes in response.

In an attempt to regain dominance in the situation, Anakin continued, “I will play the role of the sith,” which promptly ended the master’s chuckles and gave him pause. “You won’t be willing to go as far, otherwise; I simply must assume the role of a sith that you will stop at all costs,” he reasoned, as the master turned his back to the knight.

Subtly, Obi-Wan bit his lip, “This is… quite the unorthodox duel you’re proposing, my apprentice…” he breathed through his beard, running his hand through his slick, long hair slowly, before finally agreeing, “very well,” he turned to face Anakin, “it will be done – but when?”

Now back in a position of power in the conversation, a smirk appeared on the Knight’s face—pondering just what words to use and what to say to his master—before merely replying, “Soon enough, my master. Be ready, for I shall fight to win and will aim to strike when you least expect it.” Anakin could see his master sweat as he finished, which gave him the boldness to lean in and whisper into Obi-Wan’s ear and repeat, “Be ready…” before, finally, he left his master’s presence – leaving him confused but… curious.

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Days after the deal was made, Obi-Wan was in a Cantina, hoping that the loud and chaotic surroundings would perhaps take his mind off of the deal that had all but dominated his mind. It drove him, which was a change, but he had yet to feel himself ‘click’ back into his true self, drowning still in misery. He had not thought of it much before then, but he seemed to have gotten himself… dependent, on the help of his apprentice. He did not like it, but it would have to be dealt with for the time being, until Anakin arrived to bring him out of his pit of despair.

Then, startlingly, he heard the distinctive sound of a sith’s sword sizzling into power. It caused a commotion in the cantina, several denizens ran about looking for an exit while others were frozen in fear, before all were forced aside by the dark one’s will, forming a clear line between him and the Jedi Master. Obi-Wan turned to look at the still figure, finding that they were cloaked and silhouetted, unable to make out who it was. Not wasting another moment, Obi-Wan remarked, “What have we here? A sith with the boldness to openly confront a Jedi Master? Usually you are all so cowardly, lacking the will to do such a thing.”

“I’m not like other sith, Master… Kenobi,” the mysterious Sith told his opponent, pausing curiously before mentioning his name. Surely, Obi-Wan thought, he was merely attempting to remember his name. The silhouetted figure, lit only partially by his shockingly-bright red lightsaber, then began to walk towards Kenobi, like a predator closing in on his hopeless prey, continuing, “I am the sith that will do what no other has accomplished…” he halted, a fair distance between him and Kenobi, “… I am the sith that will at last destroy you. I am your end.”

Raising an eyebrow, Obi-Wan could feel a fire light up in his chest once more - a fire he hadn’t felt since before his love died. He could feel its warmth fill him and lift him up from the pit of despair he had been trapped in. “You can talk, I’ll grant that, boy,” he smirked as he lit his sword, “but you haven’t a chance to defeat me.” He shifted his position to ready for battle, to which the sith replied with his own striking pose. Until, at last,

They clashed.

Bystanders fled as the light of the two’s swords danced wildly through the cantina - one composed, the other passionate, and, to the master’s surprise, he was not the one that was composed. He couldn’t help himself, it had been so long since he had duelled and it always filled him with an intoxicating feeling that went unmatched in all his life. It was overwhelming and beyond comprehension, and a small part of Kenobi lived for it. He could feel the heat of the sith’s sword as he leant in and he couldn’t get enough of it. Then, upon putting all his might into pushing against the sith, he found himself thrown out of the cantina and into the rain. Inwardly, Kenobi scolded himself for giving the sith so much leverage.

Kenobi’s opponent seemed in no hurry to reach him again, merely waiting for him to come to him. “Quite the arrogant one…” Obi-Wan thought to himself, then breaking away from the sith’s expectations and force pulling him off-balance, before sliding across the slick surface of the floor and deftly sweeping the sith off of his feet and onto his back. Kenobi was proud of how he had managed to pull that off, only to find the sith jumping back up onto his feet and then barraging him with a series of slashes and thrusts he promptly struck away. Adrenaline, the likes of which he had never felt before in all his life as a Jedi, pumped into him, eliciting him to strike harder, causing his opponent to stagger at last. Seizing the opportunity, without another thought, Obi-Wan tore the hood of the sith’s cloak off, revealing his own apprentice, Anakin.

Now that his identity was out, Anakin began to say, “I must say, master, I’m quite surprised by your energ—” before being interrupted by the master striking at him once again, barely giving him any time to meet the blow with his own sword. “… M-Master?” The apprentice spoke, uncertain as he looked into the eyes of his now-grinning master, newly-awoken and filled with drive. He could tell he wasn’t nearly finished, which made a grin of his own grow on Skywalker’s face. “Very well,” he said, “as you wish, master.” He followed up his defensive attack with an offensive slash, met promptly by another strike before Anakin was forced off the ground and into a dense wall belonging to the building next to the cantina. “Oof!” He groaned, falling on his face before seeing his master give chase. Having but a moment to decide what to do next, the Jedi Knight leapt off the street and onto a rooftop, gaining the high ground. “It’s over, Obi-Wan,” he taunted his master.

“It is far from over, and you are a fool for letting yourself believe otherwise, my apprentice!” Obi-Wan shouted as he force jumped up to meet the Skywalker, keeping a healthy distance in an attempt to avoid granting the knight a chance to cut him in half. Their swords sizzled unrelentingly as rain drops fell repeatedly onto them, the two staring into one another’s eyes intensely. Once more, the two struck a pose before leaping to one another and striking one another as hard as they could, making a crackling roar that echoed up into the busy traffic in the sky, miles above them. They battled on and on, passionately and mercilessly.

In the heat of the battle, Obi-Wan’s lightsaber cut through parts of his apprentice’s makeshift sith robes, unaware and uncaring that he hadn’t worn a single article of clothing underneath. This startled the young knight, causing him to let his guard down long enough to be kicked onto the wet ground, rain drenching his face. “M-master…” Anakin managed to say, looking earnestly at Obi-Wan pointing the cobalt lightsaber directly toward him as his own ruby-hued sword flickered out. “Please…” he pleaded, the pain of his wounds at last catching up to the Jedi Knight and incapacitating him.

Obi-Wan looked upon his wounded apprentice and felt guilt. The battle was won, the rush of the duel had left him, and Kenobi had escaped the pit of despair at long last. His reason and composure returned to him, and he began to speak, “A-Anakin…” he reached down and helped his apprentice off of the ground, “I… thank you, for what you’ve done, here. I believe I needed this more than I realized when I first agreed to it. You have become quite a Jedi Knight, Anakin, and… I am pleased to see you take such initiative, to do what must be done.” He truly believed his apprentice had done something right that night, but, in all honesty, he was also stalling while he made what he could of what had happened, between the two of them. “… The Jedi Council needn’t hear of this… meeting… Understood?” He inquired.

Anakin nodded, “Yes, of course… no one needs to…” his gaze drifted downward to his tattered sith-like robes, “… hear of this.” He finished, “This was a strictly-private meeting between a master and his apprentice, nothing more.” The two both looked around and found a discreet exit from the rooftop and took it, glancing at one another alternately, at random. Nothing would be the same between the two from then on, they knew, but neither one ever spoke of it after it had passed - not amongst themselves, not even among loved ones. Yet, try as they might, neither one could ever forget the duel. The curious memory of it stuck with them and shaped every meeting they would have, following the duel, staying with the two for the rest of their lives.

The End

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