Chapter Text
Anakin is somewhat on edge when he’s finally called in front of Obi-Wan and Master Plo. They’ve summoned him to a small private conference room on the Negotiator.
He finds Obi-Wan has a severe and grim expression when he arrives. And they both have a heavy weight to them in the Force.
“I’m here Masters.” He says as he comes to a stop in front of them.
“Good. Anakin this interview is being recorded for later study by small number of Masters, but will otherwise remain private to those outside this room.” Obi-Wan informs him.
He knows he’s more or less the last one being interviewed from the 501st. Ahsoka had been first, and the natborn officers after her and then several ranking clones including Rex and Kix. What he doesn’t know, is what these interviews are for.
After a long pause he realises they’re waiting for a sign of acknowledgement from him.
“Understood.” He responds seriously, matching the tone of the room.
He may not know what this is about, but he can tell it’s serious.
“We’re going to ask you a series of questions. Answer honestly, and with as much detail as you can.” Plo says.
He nods and then realises they want a spoken response for the recording, “Okay.”
What follows is an intense series of questions about his movements since he took on Ahsoka as a Padawan. Many of them about what the two of them have done when on assignment alone together or when off duty but not back on Coruscant. Some of the questions are hard to answer, and Anakin honestly doesn’t remember every moment he’s spent with her this past year and a half. Eventually the questioning ends and he’s dismissed without explanation. He, of course, is burning with curiosity.
He tracks Obi-Wan down a little later to ask him what the hell this is about. He’d suspected the interviews were some kind of assessment or review of the 501st but the questions all revolved around him and Ahsoka, so that’s obviously not it.
“Obi-Wan what’s going on?” He asks when he finds the man filling out forms in his quarters an hour later.
Obi-Wan looks up from the pad he’s using and glances behind Anakin.
“Close the door, would you.” He requests.
Anakin steps fully into the room and closes it behind him. He walks over to Obi-Wan.
“What were the interviews for?” He presses.
Obi-Wan sighs and puts down the pad, running a hand over his beard.
“I can’t tell you that yet Anakin. Not until the evidence has been looked through. In a few days I’ll explain.” He replies.
“Obi-Wan.” Anakin frowns.
Obi-Wan’s lips thin and his expression grows hard, “No Anakin. This is not a rule I can bend for you. Not this one. I will explain soon.”
The firmness of Obi-Wan’s tone takes him aback slightly. He searches Obi-Wan’s face. There isn’t a hint of humour in his expression at all. He’s deadly serious.
Anakin swallows, trepidation gathering in his stomach for reasons he can’t yet tell.
“Okay. I’ll hold you to that.” He promises.
The following day he’s sent on a solo mission, leaving Ahsoka behind without him. No one tells him why Ahsoka is not being assigned to the mission, which is not standard protocol. The mission lasts a week and a half. He’s about ready to tear his hair out wondering what the hell is going on by the time he rejoins the Open Circle Fleet.
Once he’s had a chance to brief the Council on the success of his operation and take a sonic to rid himself of the stale sweat that’s accumulated since he was last able to bathe, Obi-Wan searches him out in his quarters.
“Obi-Wan.” He greets warmly.
Obi-Wan gives him a small smile, but it falls from his face quickly.
“Anakin. I know you’re probably chomping at the bit by now to find out what’s been happening, and I can tell you. If you’ll take a seat.”
Anakin sits in the one chair in the small room, turning it towards the other man. Obi-Wan moves sit on the edge of his bunk so they’re at eye level. They’re physically close now, knees almost touching with how little room the ship quarters afford.
“What’s going on?” Anakin asks plaintively.
Obi-Wan grimaces.
“I know you’re aware that the Order has means to monitor that conduct between Masters and Padawans is appropriate.” He places enough emphasis on the last word that Anakin figures out immediately what he means.
“Yeah I remember.” He answers. It was something that had been explained to him in the early weeks of his apprenticeship to Obi-Wan. How to speak to someone if he was being abused, what that might look like. He’d known more about the topic than the Healer explaining it to him expected. Slave children on Tatooine didn’t have the luxury of growing up unaware of what sex was, or that it was something their slave masters could force on them against their will.
The whole discussion had been unbelievably uncomfortable, but he can look back on it now and appreciate the fact that it happened. Obi-Wan had never- would never do anything inappropriate like that to an underage charge. But it was good to know who to turn to and how if it did happen as a Padawan.
“Usually our subtle and unintrusive methods of monitoring are enough to catch things before they get too far. But with the war things have changed. Some Master-Padawan pairs are hardly ever on Coruscant. There has been…a case of abuse, between a General and a Commander. Not- not under my command. Another High General’s subordinate.” Obi-Wan tells him haltingly.
That trepidation that’s been sitting inside him suddenly flips and turns his stomach sick with revulsion.
“Someone touched their Padawan?” He hisses, incredulous and enraged.
Obi-Wan’s blank expression finally cracks, some pessimism coming through.
“No. No it didn’t get that far.” He shakes his head.
Anakin’s eyebrows draw together, in silent question.
Obi-Wan sighs in a long-suffering way, “Anakin you must know these things don’t sprout up overnight. There are warning signs long before it reaches that point. Ones we can spot, when a Master and Padawan aren’t away from the bulk of the Order for months at a time.”
Low simmering confusing fills him. This, this is something about these abuses Anakin doesn’t already know. As familiar with the bleak realities of the cruelty of this galaxy as he is…a slave master doesn’t have to employ any kind of strategy. They can simply take.
“What signs?” He asks.
Obi-Wan nods in slight approval of Anakin’s wish to understand more, expression clearing as he switches to teacher mode.
“The abuser will isolate the vulnerable person first. Create a false divide between them and their support network. In the case of Jedi this would mean creating a sense of distrust towards other Order members. Telling the child that no one else understands them, likes them. That everyone else secretly hates them or sees them as a burden. Especially friends or other Masters they look up to, the people they’d be most likely to turn to for help.” Obi-Wan pauses, running a hand over his beard.
“They’ll take it further. Creating a sense of artificial closeness by showering the child in secret gifts. Especially as reward for keeping secrets. The secrets will be innocuous, initially. Things like secret outings no one else is allowed to know about. Nothing bad necessarily has to happen on those outings, it’s the secret keeping that’s the point. To build a base where the child becomes used to hiding what happens between them from others.” Obi-Wan continues.
Something ugly twists in Anakin’s gut, something like recognition, but he ignores it. Buries it.
“Then they’ll work their way up to sexual touches by first touching the child in ways that seem more harmless. Non-sexual in nature. Like on the hands and shoulders.”
Anakin quirks a brow then, “Isn’t it normal for Masters to show some affection towards Padawans? We’re not droids, we need some comfort.”
Obi-Wan’s expression clouds, “Yes of course it is. A touch on the shoulder isn’t bad on its own. That’s the point. If you don’t notice all the other subtle signs this one looks innocent. But it will probably keep ramping up from there to less excusable things. Like sitting on the abuser’s lap. Or a massage. Or other things like that.”
Anakin nods, confusion fading.
“It’s called grooming. Grooming them for when it eventually turns sexual in nature,” Obi-Wan’s voice is exceedingly grim, “The Order does everything it can to catch the earlier signs before it can reach that point. And it doesn’t happen often. That kind of abuse is rare, but it happens.”
Anakin mulls over what Obi-Wan has told him, returning to the start of the conversation.
“And this happened between a General and a Commander.” He repeats, not quite a question.
At this Obi-Wan’s face tilts downwards and he runs a hand through his hair, musing it. Before taking a deep breath and visibly finding his centre and lifting his head back up.
“Yes. Yes, it did. And once the High Council discovered this, they ordered an examination of all Master-Padawan pairs currently in the field as Generals and Commanders.”
Anakin’s remaining curtained curiosity burns up like flimsi as indignation replaces it.
“You thought that I would- to Ahsoka-” He chokes incredulously. Hurt spreading through his chest at the lack of trust. At the implication that he could be capable of such a thing.
Obi-Wan reaches out to squeeze his forearm reassuringly as he says, “No Anakin. No, I know you would never. But the Council had to be thorough. Check every pair. I never thought that about you.”
Anakin breathes through his nose, trying to dispel that feeling of hurt at even the insinuation he could…to his Padawan.
That he would ever groom a child under his care.
Reflecting on what Obi-Wan’s said, it sounds like another form of enslavement to him.
There’s a hundred ways to be enslaved, Anakin knows. That’s an old proverb on Tatooine. He knows in the end his mother was never free, not really. That Lars bought her and married her straight out of her chains. That he, in his own way, replaced her cage with a prettier one.
And this…grooming. It’s like another kind of chain.
Anakin would never-
He’s pulled from his thoughts by the feeling of Obi-Wan’s hands on his biceps, squeezing comfortingly.
“Dear one, despite your less than traditional teaching of the Code that the Council might otherwise take issue with but are turning a blind eye to in this case, nothing of concern was found in the search with you. As I knew it wouldn’t be. Anakin you must understand this isn’t about you. It’s about Ahsoka and all the other Commanders. About protecting them, even when we think they’re already okay. I should not tell you this, as someone outside the Council, but as far as I’m aware we haven’t found any other instances in our search throughout the GAR.”
Anakin nods vaguely and focuses on a lone grey hair in Obi-Wan’s beard as he pushes away his mess of feelings. Tuning out everything else until his mind quiets and he can think clearly again. He blinks and meets Obi-Wan’s searching eyes and gives him one small, confident nod. Obi-Wan squeezes his arms one more time and lets go, sitting back.
Anakin’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and then lets out a shaky breath. There’s something else lurking in the back of his mind, a half-formed idea that he suppresses before he can finish thinking it.
“Thank you for…informing me, Obi-Wan.” He says haltingly.
Obi-Wan leaves him to his thoughts not long after that. For reasons he doesn’t know, can’t examine too closely, Anakin’s insides feel like lead. He busies himself for the rest of the day with whatever duties he'd usually put off. Anything to keep his mind from having time to stop and think.
He stares at the roof over his bunk that night in the darkness, unable to sleep. After tossing and turning for hours, he gives up and gets out of bed. His eyes skate to his commlink on the desk where he’d put it before bed. He’d dropped the thing as if it had burnt him, when he read his messages. He swallows and turns away to get dressed.
He shucks his night clothes and puts on just enough clothing to be decent to leave his room and goes to the nearest training space.
With his saber he goes over katas until he’s sweaty and winded and his muscles are exhausted. His mind feels clearer, his anxieties banked for the time being. Maybe he’ll be able to sleep now. He takes a quick sonic to clean up and heads back to his room. He deliberately avoids looking at his desk as he changes back into his night clothes but as he moves to get into his bunk his eyes fall on his com again. A quiet keen escapes his throat as all those feelings of fear, powerlessness and suspicion return like a crashing wave. He immediately recoils at the feebleness of the sound.
He scoffs at himself for being such a pathetic coward and marches the two steps over to pick up the stupid device.
He stares at it, searching the message history and finding the waiting message from the Chancellor. An invitation to dine out with him next time Anakin is on Coruscant. He stares at the innocent message silently for several minutes as his thoughts churn.
He shouldn’t be contemplating this. Shouldn’t be trying to see something that surely isn’t there. But…
But he knows in his bones, that he can count off every single thing Obi-Wan described as grooming, as something the Chancellor has done to him.
“He didn’t. He’s not-” He hisses to himself. The words, even said aloud into the silence, aren’t enough to dispel all of his doubts.
Giving up on sleep entirely, he sits down at his desk. He fishes out his personal datapad from where it’s stacked underneath his official GAR one and the unofficial GAR one as well. He turns it on and searches up grooming.
The connection is rubbish, but he reads through thing after thing until the text starts to blur together and his eyes ache from the light of the screen in the dark room. He turns off the pad and places it carefully down on the table.
He pushes the chair away from the table and slowly plants his elbows on his knees and puts his head in his hands.
He sobs quietly.
He’s known for a long time that some of the meetings he has with the Chancellor are a little strange, not quite right, maybe. But he’s always ignored that instinct. Always told himself that the Chancellor is his friend. Is a man following the career of a promising young Jedi after Anakin helped save Naboo all those years ago.
But truthfully…truthfully he remembers how uncomfortable he was the first few times he was alone with the Chancellor as a young Padawan. The way the man would take him on outings to strange parts of Coruscant that weren’t at all what he told the Council they were doing, and then gently ask Anakin not to tell them.
Anakin had known it didn’t feel quite right. But he’d been young, and he’d felt special. Such a powerful man taking an interest in his life. Seeing him as more than just the poor former slave boy from Tatooine. Seeing his future potential as a Jedi Knight.
And Palpatine has been so good to him, since then. The man has never touched him. Not sexually. But he does…he does put his hands on Anakin, sometimes. And there’s always a strange possessiveness to the touches. A hand on his shoulder feels commanding and forceful, when the Chancellor does it. Like he has power Anakin does not, in those moments.
Palpatine has never raped him, but now Anakin can’t be certain it won’t happen at some point. That the man isn’t just waiting for the war to end and Anakin to come back to being on Coruscant more of the time so he can- so he can-
Anakin sobs into his hands. He feels dirty. His skin itches. Disgust and shame twist in his stomach.
What is he supposed to do about this? The Chancellor is the most powerful man in the Republic. He commands the Grand Army. Anakin can’t escape him, not really. Not when he hasn’t done anything Anakin can prove is wrong.
Palpatine has been careful, he realises. Never pushing far enough to raise Anakin’s internal alarm. The Chancellor is well aware of Anakin’s background, how guarded it makes him. The man must have known pushing too far too quickly would send Anakin straight to Obi-Wan or someone else. That’s why he’s waited, even though Anakin is no longer a teen. It doesn’t matter, not really, because the Chancellor still has all the power over him.
Why him? Anakin thinks. Why did this have to happen to him? Why has no one else noticed? Why hasn’t Obi-Wan? If he knows so much about these things. Why…
Why did Obi-Wan let the Chancellor be alone with him? Why did the Council?
Shame turns to indignation, and then to anger and bitterness. The Council will protect Padawans from harm within the Order, but not from outside it? What kind of double-standard is that? And why is he the one who has to suffer for it?
Anakin stands from the chair and leaves his room without bothering to change this time. Obi-Wan’s is just a few steps down the hall. He knocks loudly enough to wake the other man. He feels Obi-Wan’s Force signature brighten as he rouses from sleep. Anakin knocks again, more insistently.
After some quiet shuffling behind the door, it slides open and a sleep mused Obi-Wan stand before him.
“Anakin?” He asks in confusion.
Anakin pushes past him into the room. He can’t have someone on the opposite night cycle hear him in the halls.
Obi-Wan turns around and tracks him with his eyes as the door slides shut behind him.
“Anakin it’s the middle of the night, what’s going on?”
Anakin stands in the middle of the tiny room, hands clenched tight enough that his nails bite into the palm of his non-mechanical hand.
“So the Council protects younglings from Masters in the Temple who might abuse them, what about from people outside the Order? Does it protect Padawans from them?” He spits the words like poison.
Obi-Wan looks a little unsteady, standing a short distance away, and after a moment Anakin realises it’s because he is shaking like a leaf, Anakin is. He tries to pull himself together and stop the trembling. He sees Obi-Wan’s face lose all colour.
“Padawans rarely spend extended periods with anyone outside the Order without their Masters present until they’re very Senior and close to their Knighting. The expectation is that Masters will spot any concerning behaviour early.” Obi-Wan says slowly as his face gains a horrified clarity to it.
“Has someone- is someone outside the Order hurting Ahsoka?” He whispers, like the words are too horrible to say any louder.
Anakin laughs, and it’s a terrible, agonised sound.
“No.” He answers. Obi-Wan’s expression relaxes momentarily, until he catches Anakin’s raw tone and his face cracks in two. Horror bleeding from him in the Force.
“No. No-No…Anakin who-” He pleads, sounding tortured.
“You know who Obi-Wan. You left me alone with him when I was twelve!” Anakin breaks down on the last word, voice cracking. Tears stream fast and hot down his cheeks. He doesn’t want to kriffing cry about this, but he can’t stop. He reaches up to rub them away aggressively until his face stings and he gives up.
Obi-Wan makes a terrible pained sound, like he’s been shot between the ribs. He actually clutches himself around the middle as he bleeds agony in the Force.
He straightens suddenly and steps towards Anakin very quickly, reaching out and then stopping just before his hands land on Anakin’s arms. He hovers, clearly unsure about touching Anakin. Anakin can’t admit out loud that he wants the comfort, he’s too angry and raw, but part of him does. So he gives a small shaky nod and Obi-Wan pulls him into his arms.
“I’m so sorry Anakin.” Obi-Wan whispers into his neck. He runs a hand up and down Anakin’s back as Anakin continues to hiccup.
“I should have known. I was concerned, at first, but I thought I did my due diligence. I thought there was nothing- I thought I’d proved it was harmless. I should never have allowed it at all. I’m so sorry.” Obi-Wan apologises hoarsely.
“Well, once a slave always a slave, right?” Anakin spits the slaver blasphemy bitterly into Obi-Wan’s shoulder, clinging to him like he’ll fall apart if Obi-Wan lets go. Maybe he will.
Obi-Wan’s hands fist in his thin night shirt, pulling it tight against Anakin’s back.
“No. No you’re not. Not now, not ever, if I have anything to say about it. I won’t let him anywhere near you-” Obi-Wan says fiercely.
Anakin snorts miserably, “He’s the Supreme Commander and the karking Chancellor. He controls both the GAR and the Senate, which the Jedi Order reports to. I don’t know what you think you can do.”
“Whatever I have to.” Obi-Wan whispers furiously. His hands relax, letting the fabric fall lax and returning to rubbing Anakin’s back soothingly.
Anakin lets Obi-Wan hold him for a few minutes. Until his tears have long dried and his hiccupping has stopped. Until he feels like he can breathe, despite the misery choking his Force signature.
He pulls away somewhat reluctantly. He doesn’t know when the last time Obi-Wan hugged him even is, and he doubts it’ll happen again any time soon. But crying has helped to clear some of the tangled mess of things he’s feeling and he’s starting to become self-conscious about the emotional display. Such vulnerability isn’t very becoming of a Jedi Knight, and he’s sure Obi-Wan is silently judging him for it.
Obi-Wan releases his hold as Anakin steps back. Obi-Wan’s eyes are red, making Anakin realise he’s cried too. That actually shocks Anakin still. He can’t remember the last time he saw his Master cry, if ever.
“Will you allow me to secure a line for a holocall with the Council? If I do, do you want to be the one to tell them or would you prefer I do it?” Obi-Wan’s voice scrapes against his throat as he speaks.
Anxiety skitters through Anakin’s chest at the thought of going in front of the Council and telling them this. But he’s not a coward. He’s a General and a Knight and does not want to be in chains. Not if there is anything at all they can do about it. Not that he’s very hopeful there is.
But that thought draws another lesson learned in the sands of his horrid childhood. Even if you cannot yet break the chain, any dent made to a link by the file counts.
He coughs loudly to clear his throat, “I’ll tell them.” It’s all he manages, and his voice is more subdued than he wishes, but he can’t force false cheer. Not right now.
Obi-Wan’s expression shutters at the tone slightly, and he squeezes a hand against Anakin’s arm briefly.
“We should get dressed then. I’ll arrange a private conference room and get the call on as soon as possible.” Obi-Wan says, mind already moving ahead to plan.
Anakin can tell it’s Obi-Wan’s way of holding himself together. He needs the next task to focus on, so he doesn’t fall apart under the strain of what Anakin has revealed to him. A frission of guilt lances through Anakin’s chest at the burden he’s placed on his Master. But he knows Obi-Wan should have protected him in the first place, so he says nothing.
Forty five minutes later Anakin is standing in a conference room, fully dressed in his robes alongside Obi-Wan. Despite the fact Obi-Wan’s sleep cycle has been interrupted, he doesn’t look tired or ruffled. They’ve both grown too used to losing sleep in this war.
After a few tense minutes of waiting that make Anakin grind his teeth together, the call connects. He knows intellectually that this call has been made on extremely short notice and it’s a miracle it’s happening this fast, but the wait is agonising.
Several Council members—not all—appear in blue. The likelihood of them all being available with no notice was next to none. A few are likely in the middle of military engagements right now. But it's enough of an audience to make Anakin uncomfortable. These people don’t like him, and he has to tell them this?
“General Kenobi, General Skywalker.” Master Windu greets them.
He alongside Masters Plo, Ti, Gallia, Fisto and Ki-Adi-Mundi are all seated on the holoprojector.
“Masters.” Anakin greets with a tiny bow.
Obi-Wan gives his own shallow bow.
“What is the emergency that you wished to bring to our attention?” Windu asks.
“Since being made aware of why he was interviewed a short time ago, Anakin has brought some incredibly concerning information to light,” Several sharp intakes of breath translate across the call, “He was not aware of the term grooming or what it entailed until I explained it to him. After that he told me…” Obi-Wan swallows, losing his nerve.
Expression tight, Windu shifts his gaze to Anakin’s, “What did you tell him? Are you aware of uptoward behaviour that we are not between a Padawan and a figure of authority in their life?”
Anakin laughs shortly and bitterly while Obi-Wan makes a choked off sound of pain next to him.
“Not a current Padawan, no. But it did happen when I was a Padawan.” He replies.
Windu’s expression grows grave and surprisingly, sympathetic. Anakin can’t think of a time Mace Windu has ever looked at him with such an expression. It’s discomforting. But it helps as well, it’s better than blankness. Better than staring at someone who appears not to care at all.
“Considering who you informed I take it was not a Master-Padawan issue. Who was it?” Ti asks, voice carefully level. Anakin glances at her and then back at Windu’s intense look.
Anakin frowns, bitterness poisoning him, making him increasingly agitated.
He tries to keep his voice calm as he says, “There is only one man outside the Jedi Order, outside the walls in which you can apparently monitor these things for yourselves, who had unrestricted access to me from the time I was twelve. By the Council’s allowance.”
The lines of Windu’s face grow sharp with anger. Anakin can tell only some of the other members present have figured out who he means. Plo hangs his head. Ti looks at him with sympathy.
“Are you saying that despite our best efforts to ensure otherwise that the Chancellor of the Republic groomed you?” Windu grates out. But Anakin can tell for once the man’s anger isn’t directed at him.
“Yes. Whatever you did failed.” He replies, voice empty.
Windu exhales noisily and looks at the ceiling beseechingly. Anakin thinks he can see several of the Masters release their emotions to the Force, even though he isn’t there to sense it.
Windu re-meets his gaze, “Skywalker- Anakin,” He starts, voice surprisingly gentle, “The Council owes you an apology. We’ve failed to protect you utterly as a Padawan and child under our care, at the time. And as the Master of the Order, I’m sorry.”
“We all are.” Fisto echoes. The rest of the Masters make affirmative noises.
Anakin presses his lips together and blinks silently at Master Windu. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react. He doesn’t even know how he wants to react. He’s not going to thank them, but he also can’t quite reconcile hearing an apology for a mistake from them all. It’s surreal.
Mostly Anakin feels tired and scraped raw inside.
“I am sorry to ask this of you Knight Skywalker, but in order to understand how to proceed, we need to know exactly what happened. How far things went.” Plo speaks up.
Anakin grits his teeth until his jaw hurts and then relaxes it, breathing through his nose until he finds- not inner peace, but enough stability to continue.
“He didn’t sexually assault me, I think he knew I would tell someone if that happened. Nor- any other kind of inappropriate touches. But everything else. The secrets and lies. Outings- I mean he took me to a bar when I was thirteen maybe? I don’t know-” Obi-Wan makes a noise in the back of his throat but Anakin doesn’t look at him, it’s hard enough to keep his nerve as it is, “He told me- so many times he told me the Council hates me. That the Order sees me as the Chosen One and nothing else. That I’d be kicked out otherwise. That no one in the Order really cares about me, not even Obi-Wan. The way he’d tell me these things, they made sense to me. They sounded true. And he’d…do things for me, after I’d been to see him. And he’d put a hand on me when I was there, maybe my back or something- and it would feel like he was trying to- to-” Anakin struggles for a way to put it.
An epiphany comes, and it’s not a good one.
“To own me,” A few Masters wince at the word choice, but no one interrupts him, “He didn’t give me gifts that were physical objects because of the Jedi’s lack of personal possessions but…but if I was dissatisfied with something. Maybe the missions Obi-Wan and I were going on or the Temple food or something else stupid like that, he’d give me something. Use his power to get us a high-profile mission, take me out to eat somewhere fancy,” Windu’s expression pinches, “-things like that.”
Anakin takes a breath. He feels worked up, but the words aren’t stopping now they’ve started.
“I knew on some level that there was something wrong with it. But I didn’t know what. And as time went on…as I started to believe the things he kept saying about everyone else, I started to feel like he was the only one I could trust. Like he was the only friend I could really trust.” Anakin feels a stab of hurt come from Obi-Wan in the Force, but he’s too occupied to even consider trying to soothe the man.
“I realised…I realised if not for the war taking me off planet, that I think things would have escalated. He’s always offering to get me shore leave, asking me to visit the rare times I’m on Coruscant for more than a short time. He’s the- He’s the Supreme Commander. I’m worried things still might, and there’ll be nothing I can do to stop it.” Anakin’s eyes burn as he finishes speaking and he rapidly blinks back the fresh tears. He is not going to cry in front of the Council, not on his life.
“I’m so sorry Skywalker.” Gallia says quietly.
He shakes his head, “I don’t need meaningless apologies. What can be done? With his power how could I possibly say no to his com message requesting to see me next time I’m on planet?”
Obi-Wan’s back straightens, and he turns to look directly at Anakin.
“He’s made that request on your private com?” He asks.
Anakin nods, still mostly facing the holos of the Council but eyes tracking Obi-Wan.
“We will start by postponing your next return, you’ll have to take leave off planet which is not ideal, but that’s the first place to start.” Master Windu cuts in.
Obi-Wan faces him, mouth turning downwards in dissatisfaction, “That’s not a solution, that’s just delaying it.”
Windu gives Obi-Wan an unimpressed look.
“That’s only the first step to buy us more time. With his power, unseating him, going public with evidence, will take time.” Windu replies.
Horror sweeps through Anakin so fast it makes him dizzy.
“Go public?!” He cries.
Plo interjects, “We will keep your identity anonymous to avoid the press, if that is your wish.”
Mundi chimes in, “That seems wise, considering the fame Skywalker already carries. The press would be quite unmanageable I imagine.”
Anakin breathes rapidly, trying to stay calm and failing. A hand on his shoulder has his head whipping to look at Obi-Wan, who is giving him a gentle, steadying look. Anakin focuses on the pressure of the hand through his clothing, trying to slow his breathing.
“I don’t want my name on that. I don’t want all of the holonet to know that happened to me.” He says firmly.
“Of course Skywalker.” Master Windu agrees.
Windu surveys the present Council members and then turns his sharp gaze to Anakin and Obi-Wan.
“General Skywalker I am taking you off duty and referring you to see a Mind Healer.” Windu says.
Anakin goes to protest but Windu holds up a hand to forestall him.
“This would be standard in this situation. You need to sit down and work through this. Usually this would be done in the Temple, but we can arrange for you to call with the Healer remotely. You won’t be off duty for long if you actually comply with this.”
Anakin grinds his teeth and stews silently, eventually nodding jerkily when it becomes obvious Windu is not going to continue until he’s received some kind of response.
“General Kenobi, the 501st will temporarily report to Commander Cody and by extension you through their Captain, Rex. Commander Tano is also off duty until her Master can return to his post.” Windu waits for the quick nod from Obi-Wan before turning to the rest of the Council.
“We will assign a Jedi Shadow to investigate the Chancellor for hard evidence to back up our case against him. We must approach this carefully so he can’t just bury this or bury us for trying to get him out of office.” Windu’s words wash over Anakin as his attention begins to wane.
It’s not enough, not really. But it’s a dent. A small one, right now. But if they keep filing away at it, if the Shadow can somehow collect actual evidence, maybe the link will be broken in time. Maybe this chain will not remain around Anakin’s throat long enough to choke him. Maybe there is some hope.
Anakin brushes a hand against Obi-Wan’s arm. The man glances at him. Anakin squeezes his wrist once and lets go. Obi-Wan gives him a brave, encouraging smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and then turns back to the Council.
“Knight Skywalker- Anakin.” Anakin blinks and refocuses his attention on Plo, realising he’s been called out to.
“Yes?” He asks, voice betraying his rising exhaustion.
“It should go without saying, but I will say it on behalf of this Council. Everything that man said, was not true. The Council does not hold any contempt for you, nor are you under threat of being thrown out. There are many within the Order who look up to you and respect you. Both for your efforts within the war, and outside of it.” Plo says slowly.
Anakin gives him a slow, hesitant nod of understanding, while glancing at Master Windu because he can’t quite help himself.
Windu leans forward in his chair, looking a little unimpressed, maybe exasperated too.
“Skywalker I’m aware that you and I have had our differences, but Master Plo is not wrong. I have been frustrated with your actions on many occasions in the past, and I’m sure I will be in the future,” Someone chuckles quietly in the background, “But that man lied to you. Know that. Believe that.” Windu responds to his unvoiced doubt.
Anakin swallows, “…Thank you, Masters. I know that, on one level already. I will…endeavour to believe it, on the rest.” He offers tentatively, unsure of what else to say.
Windu nods at him.
“Then you are both dismissed.” He says.
Anakin nods and bows and then the holos fade out.
He stands staring at the dark projector for a minute, for something to do.
“Might I suggest getting some rest, if you can?” Obi-Wan says.
Anakin turns towards him and fully takes him in. Obi-Wan looks exhausted in a way he didn’t before the call. There’s a quiet pain on his face that he can’t quite conceal. A downturn to his shoulders that is all wrong. The whole of it makes Anakin itch, but he’s too tired to try and fix it.
“To add onto what they said, you should know that I care about you Anakin. A great deal. You are my best friend. And you can trust me. I’m glad you came to me. I’ll do everything within my power to change this, even if…it’s too little and too late.” Obi-Wan’s voice grows quiet and sombre.
“It’s only too late when you stop fighting.” Anakin replies.
Obi-Wan quirks a brow. His lips curve in a crooked and sad facsimile of a questioning smile.
Anakin shakes his head and waves a hand. He’s not in the mood to explain the slave proverb or it’s context right now.
So instead he settles on, “Thank you. I wish…I wish you’d stopped it then. But. But I need you now, and I can’t…I can’t do this on my own. He was…he made himself a space in the centre of my life. I can’t do this without you by my side, I don’t know how.” He confesses brokenly.
Obi-Wan’s lower lip trembles in a sad, heartbroken way as the corners curve slightly upwards.
“You don’t even have to ask Anakin. You have me by your side for as long as you need, whenever you need.” Obi-Wan’s voice is soft and broken, but there’s warmth to it as well.
Anakin gives him his best attempt at a smile, but he can feel that he doesn’t manage much.
“Get some rest?” Obi-Wan repeats his earlier suggestion.
Anakin sighs, “I’ll try.”