Mysteries of the Force

Chapter 4

If Obi-wan loved Anakin beyond death then perhaps his affections could heal his padawan’s fear of death. The fear of death was the root cause of poor Anakin’s suffering. It started after Anakin became Obi-wan’s padawan. One day they traveled on a mission traveling through a dead solar system. Its central star once lived for millions of years. After its death only gaseous clouds drifted in the cold vacuum of space.

“How beautiful,” Obi-wan observed from his starfighter. He contemplated its rainbow aurora of light. Parts of its color scheme ranged from dark green transitioning into violet and pink. In another area the dark green brightened into neon green then vermilion red.

“How can you say it’s beautiful, Master?” replied Anakin sorrowfully. “It’s dead. Even stars die.”

Both Obi-wan and Anakin stared at the same scene. Obi-wan saw beauty, however, Anakin saw death. The death of a celestial sphere told him a terrible truth: the transient nature of all material existence.

The fear of death in Anakin whispered all things die when he dreamed. Its cruel whisper tortured him with thoughts of his mother dying. Her battered body, her fluttering eyelids, the hot touch of blood on her lips. It seemed so real that he woke up screaming in every night. disturbing Padme as well. In addition to reliving his mother’s death, Padme’s future death tormented him as well. This indescribable agony drove Anakin towards the Dark Side seeking mastery over death.

Death is darkness. If love is the answer to the darkness, might love heal the suffering caused by death? In the ultimate experience of love, if a person realizes that they are One with the Force, then they discover their true nature is eternal. If the soul lives on forever then they never really die, therefore death is an illusion, according to the ancient Jedi masters. Through love if Obi-wan could guide Anakin in this greater understanding he’d have no need to turn to the Dark Side. If Obi-wan failed Anakin might fall in the darkness far beyond his Master’s reach.

/He is all I have left. I know I can save him. Yet I cannot save him from himself / Obi-wan thought silently, retaining a sense of composure. He knew the more Anakin suffered the closer he grew to the darkness.

From the darkness Palpatine’s promise seduced him. “Embrace the Dark Side as well as the Light, and I shall give you the power to conquer death,” Palpatine said.

“I won’t let the Dark Side take you,” Obi-wan cried, locking Anakin firmly in his arms. Only rarely did the Jedi Master’s emotions overpower his fixed sense of logic.

His sudden grasp caused him and Anakin to tumble back on the bed. The drop threw Obi-wan’s hair out of place. Tousled locks spread over the comforter, their ends rounded off in perfect curls. Anakin weaved a finger through a single lock twisting it around up to his nail. Its golden highlights captured Anakin’s eye. Then his sight wandered to Obi-wan’s face. Normally his calm features betrayed no emotion not even a hint. Thin angular eyebrows knotted together wrinkling the skin between. Light pink lips compressed, unable to utter a word.

The abrupt emotional outburst distressed Anakin. His mentor never acted like this. “Master, what’s the matter? Please tell me what’s bothering you,” Anakin demanded, freeing his finger from Obi-wan’s hair twined about it. Anakin’s hand wandered down to Obi-wan’s jaw line tracing it, tickled by his beard.

The padawan stifled a laugh, pushing up the edges of his mentor’s mouth with his thumb and forefinger. The pressure applied forced Obi-wan’s lips up into false smile, even if he frowned.

“Alright, my friend, I’ll relax. So please, stop that,” Obi-wan chided softly, never raising his voice out of anger. He returned to being the self-composed Jedi the Council admired him as.

“Good, Master. Now take a deep breath. Remember, don't focus on the negative and be mindful of your thoughts,” Anakin teased Obi-wan in a schoolmaster’s tone of voice, throwing back the words Obi-wan hounded him with.

Before Obi-wan could counter and reply Anakin added, “Keep your concentration here and now where it belongs.” He grinned wickedly at his Master’s loss.

Obi-wan answered it with the trace of a modest smile and let Anakin steal the victory. Anakin possessed Qui-Gon wit of and sense of humor making them so similar, that it hurt Obi-wan.

Without Anakin Obi-wan would have been a different man, perhaps a lesser one. Anakin taught him to smile, relax and even joke around. Through his relationship with Anakain, Obi-wan learned to explore his emotions, and even embraced them to a certain extent. Yet a part of him clung strongly to the Jedi Code, which forbade emotional attachments. The Code itself stated, “There is no emotion, there is peace,” denying the existence of emotion itself. What would Obi-wan do? Follow his feelings or cling to the Code?

While Obi-wan thought in silence his outside manner put Anakin at ease. Young Skywalker’s expression seemed to say, “Come Master, follow me.” That made Kenobi’s decision clear: follow his emotions. If Master Yoda knew just how adversely Anakin affected Kenobi, he’d separate the two. Of course nothing would divide them Obi-wan prayed.

/I hope I can reach him/ Obi-wan wished, drawing Anakin closer.
Obi-wan’s fingers hooked under the edges of Anakin’s robe removing it. Brown fabric gathered on the bed. Anakin sat before him clad in black long sleeve tunic that folded over at his chest and draped to his mid thigh. Beneath that he wore brownish-black pants and black knee high leather boots. Anakin’s dark attire might have intimidated other people except for Obi-wan.

/He’s accepts me. The other Jedi never liked me, they were always against me/ realized Anakin to himself. /Only he isn’t/

Anakin’s eyes dimmed to a blue gray by the low lighting in the room, and they narrowed in on Obi-wan’s lips. Anakin kissed him, capturing them in his mouth. The hot breath of teased Obi-wan, making him shiver. A gasp escaped him as playful teeth nipped on his earlobe. Anakin’s tongue darted out in the crevice behind Obi-wan’s ear, igniting a fire in his blood. He moaned in pleasure and he threw his head back, exposing the skin on his neck. Anakin found its tone a few shades paler, more delicate and light than the tanned skin on his teacher’s face. His hands roamed over its smooth texture, warmed by the heat underneath. Right above the collarbone he slid his hand under the hem of his master’s robe. He pulled it off leaving Obi-wan in an off white colored tunic that fell above his knees with matching pants. Unlike Anakin he preferred lighter colors, perhaps reflective of his inner purity.

The Force flowed in Obi-wan—pure, clean and perfect. It cleared Anakin’s mind, driving back the darkness that clouded it. In Obi-wan’s presence Anakin felt the Light. He experienced the only peace he knew, the only joy that touched him.

“Promise me we’ll always be friends, Master,” Anakin implored, trailing sweet kisses down Obi-wan’s neck.

“I promise, of course we will,” Obi-wan whispered, kissing him soulfully on the lips.

Anakin forced a smile to comfort his dear master. His heart beat frantically. /Why do I feel this way? It’s the same as when I had those nightmares about Padme/

“Anakin?” Obi-wan paused, cupping his Padawan’s face.

“Oh, its nothing,” replied Anakin, grasping Obi-wan’s human hand in his mechanical one. His lips brushed over each finger, delighting in their feel.

The durasteel hand released him with reluctance, its cold steel tips dancing up Obi-wan’s arm. They tickled Obi-wan and tugged at the neckline of his tunic, revealing inch-by-inch of tantalizing skin. A perfect milky glow untouched by the sun. No wrinkles, no blemishes, no dark spots, a lovely pink-white peony. Obi-wan’s natural tone that contrasted with his tan. Tanned or pale, both were beautiful in Anakin’s eyes, that saw in Obi-wan the only beauty he knew.

The dark blue orbs took in his master’s muscular chest, as he unbuckled his belt, working off the tunic bit by bit. His full, round lips pressed tender kisses across Obi-wan’s chest, feeling the curve of drawn muscle beneath satin flesh. On both pectoral muscles, Anakin’s tongue teased each nub; their texture stiff and color flushed a slight pink hue. Lips kissed them enflaming Obi-wan’s senses in an onslaught of sensations. Tingles spiraled down his spine. Nerves were strained. He breathed unevenly. His senses heightened. His pulse fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings.

With the tunic off cool air caressed his bare upper body. Obi-wan shuddered as Anakin’s fingertips traced feathery routes up his sculpted arms, brushing across strong shoulders. Anakin’s path meandered behind Obi-wan’s back circling his shoulder blades, then to his sides, down along the gradual curve of his spine and back up. Heat flooded his poor body already racked by pleasure. The mental restraints of Jedi control began to break. Instinctively Obi-wan slipped into meditation trying to empty his conscious.

“It won’t work, Master.” Laughter rang in Anakin’s voice.

“Well, Anakin, we’ll just have to see about that, shall we?” Obi-wan jested back, regarding Anakin with a twinkle of gentle amusement in both eyes.
Obi-wan knew well he might loose this contest as well but engaged in it anyway. Those little games brought relief to a life wrought by war. Moments they treasured forever in the eternal tide of time. Cherished in the infinite flow of the Force. Loved. Obi-wan’s love for Anakin blinded him. Even in the face of his flaws such as rashness and arrogance, he loved him dearly.

“You know I always win, Master,” came Anakin’s bold remark. His mechanical hand blazing an icy trail down to his stomach, chilling flesh that quivered. The sight of trembling flesh sent fire racing through. It roared deep inside, a raging inferno, melting his molten core. Arousal strained, breathe raspy, pulse hammering, unable to contain himself. Durasteel fingers curled at the waistline of Obi-wan’s pants.

“Patience, my friend, patience.” Obi-wan toyed with Anakin, catching the prying hand.

“What!? Don’t lecture me, Master, not at a time like this,” Anakin protested. “I’ll just have do things my way.” A wicked grin crossed his face as he reached into the Force locking onto his target.

Obi-wan’s pants dropped to his knees. “A-A-Anakin!” he gasped in astonishment.

Clearly Anakin’s sharp Force reflexes made him skilled in other ways besides Pod Racing and piloting.

“See? I warned you not to challenge me,” Anakin laughed, rolling onto his side.

Obi-wan remained rooted to his spot on the bed. Anakin shifted closer running his visage down Obi-wan’s form. Brown shoulder length hair curled around his neck. Blue-gray eyes dazzled him, modest and serene. Any desire they harbored was driven back in the depths of his gaze. Not a hint of passion played across his face, set amid soft features.

“Ah, it seems you won,” Obi-wan said at length. “Shall we continue, Anakin?”

Anakin snapped out of his daze. “Continue with what, Master?”

“Your lesson of course.” Obi-wan flashed him the oil bottle from before.

“That again?” muttered Anakin. His fist slammed the bed. “I’m so sick of your damn lessons! I want to be granted the rank of Jedi Master now. Is this part of the trials or something?”

“Perhaps.” Obi-wan contemplated deeply then answered. “There’s more to being a Jedi than just a good fighter. To truly use the Force you must clear your mind. Conquer the darkness within it. Love is the answer to the darkness Master Qui-Gon said. Maybe love can clear your mind and you’ll follow the Light. Then you can destroy the Sith and fulfill your prophecy as the Chosen One. Anakin, Qui-Gon believes in you, and so do I. That’s why it was his last wish I trained you, so someday you might bring Balance to the Force.”

TBC