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Torture And Tranquility	By : Concrete-Diamond Category: Star Wars (All) > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 8733 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, George Lucas does, as well as Disney. I'm not making any money by writing this.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
A.N. – Not sure about this chapter, but it’s necessary for the plot.... what do you think?
As always, read and enjoy!

It was early dawn, and the sun had yet to rise.
Obi-Wan emerged from the fresher, dripping, and sparing his still-sleeping padawan a quick glance, made his way to the conservator with the hope of tracking down something to tempt the boy’s stomach. Force – at one time he would have been hard-pressed to prevent him from devouring everything on the temple’s first eight floors...
“Hgmmm....”
Blue-grey eyes flew back to the rumpled bed, noting the smooth body under the thin sheets beginning to shift. He couldn’t help the soft smile that adorned his bearded face as he moved back to the bedroom – what had Kit called him? A mother-tresher with one chick?
Anakin stirred lightly as a hand dealt an affectionate stroke to his hair, a gentle compulsion from his master rippling through the force... wake... see me...
The jedi didn’t dare to hope... last night had been an error on his part, and it was likely that the boy would only recall it as a purely physical act... yet the human half of Kenobi’s mind - the one that still refused to chain itself entirely to the Order’s standard – still clung to that fragment of a hope, that perhaps, just perhaps...
“Huhh –Wha’ is it?”
The fragment shattered.
Kenobi swallowed back the emotions threatening to choke him, and forced a look of calm serenity.
“Nothing... how do you feel?”
The boy grimaced.
“It’s still sore – the ankle...”
Nodding, Obi-Wan pulled back the lower half of the sheets, baring Anakin’s wounded leg – and bit back a cry of disgust.
“What?” Anakin mumbled, still half asleep...
A hand to his mouth, Kenobi fought back the initial nausea and attempted to collect his thoughts.
It looked like an infection, but perhaps the uncontrolled movement during the night’s sleep had acted as an irritant... Whatever the cause, there was no doubt of the need for expert assistance – Luminara was on call at this hour, perhaps if he could lull the boy into enough of a relaxed haze...
“Anakin, I’m – I’m going to touch your foot, just – just stay still...”
He instantly went tense, as Obi-Wan knew he would, and the second a hand met his bruised skin –
“NOOOOAUGHHH!”
His master was ready, and caught his body in a tight force-hold as he tried to scrabble off the bed, before pushing him back to the mattress roughly.
Blue eyes widened briefly, before flooding with moisture.
“Ma-Master, p-please...” he whimpered tearfully – just as the door to their quarters slid wide open.
Several pairs of shocked eyes met the tableau spread out in the bedroom – both men naked, the younger of the two force-held to the mattress as tears streamed down his face, the older physically looming over his apprentice and clutching the boy’s clearly fractured ankle...
Obi-Wan was the first to speak, his voice shaking.
“Agen, this... this isn’t –“
Kolar cut him off sharply.
“Master Kenobi – by order and upon the authority of the high jedi council, you are under close arrest.”
*

Crushing, helpless sobs ripped through Anakin’s shaking body, as every conception he had held- or thought he held – spun wildly in his head.
Having to suffer the shame of a healer examining him intimately was hardly helpful.
There was no point in dragging his mind from the impersonal touches – it only brought him back to that morning, when he’d been ripped out of his master’s grip and sped to one of the temple “safe holdings”...
It made no sense, no sense at all... Obi-Wan had... he would never have... but he’d held him down... he would have... but...no... but-!
A fresh bout of sobbing rushed out him, accompanied by gasps and choking...
*

“.... the physical findings appear to correspond with the psychological analysis, namely muscular traumatization of the rectum, characterized by swelling and inflammation... I would place the time of the injury to forty-eight standard hours prior...”
Obi-Wan nearly crumpled to the center floor of the council chamber – Force, how could he not have seen it-! And that morning, he’d -!
His boy... His poor boy...
With no thought for his surroundings, the Kenobi rushed for the door, struggling to free himself of the force restraints that bound him to the room’s center. Several pairs of hands locked on him in addition, forcing him back to his place as he railed and screamed.
“ANI! ANAKIN!!!”
*

At eight centuries old, it was known that Master Yoda had steeped himself in the ways of the great mystery – almost to the point of complete abandonment of self.
Each ceremony and ritual he performed was cool, emotionless, and exactly to the book.
All but this one, when the diminutive grand master had always allowed his green eyes to grow moist...
Anakin trembled at the chamber’s center, on his knees, eyes searching for a forgiving expression among the stone-faced council members.
“Padawan Skywalker, violated and compromised the ancient vows of chastity and celibacy you have. Acknowledge we do, your innocence in the matter. Yet, after much deliberation, no exception can we make.”
Tears bathed the boy’s smooth face, his skin raw, his eyes red with them...
“Hereby and forever removed from the Holy of the Jedi you are. Retreat from the boundaries of the temple you shall, and know our ways no more.”
A green lightsaber hummed through the air, singing the shell of his ear as the padawan braid was severed cleanly from his scalp.
Anakin collapsed to the floor, lost to his sobs, before a pair of lesser knights drew forward and guided him bodily from the chamber.
As his feet scrabbled over the mosaic tiles, his mind began racing feverishly – his master was gone, already banished and imprisoned – who did he trust, who could –
Yes. Yes, of course...
*

Sly Moore waved the door open with an imperious wave of her grey-skinned hand, revealing the blood-red office walls...
The crimson carpet felt thick and plush beneath his booted feet, and a faint scent of incense was carried on the air – strangely soothing...
“Anakin –?”
“Forgive me, I – I only –“
“Understandable dear boy, perfectly understandable...”
Palpatine smiled in a calming, almost paternal fashion, and though he’d said near to nothing in the past few moments, Anakin knew there was no need... The man knew everything, somehow...
“Come, sit down.”
He obeyed wordlessly, sinking into the cushioned chair as if it were water... What a relief, what... luxury, after so much harsh, disinfection...
“I-I wanted to –“
“I know.” The chancellor murmured, stepping out from behind the massive desk and coming to stand in front of him, laying a hand on his shoulder.
The incense smoke seemed to be growing thicker, it completely infused the air now – and there was something... sharp, and intensely sweet...
“Wha-What...”
“Shhh...”
“Wh- No...”
The fumes curled about him, heavy and inescapable, and he could feel his eyelids growing weightier...
“Nnn-no...”
“Hush now... sleep. All is well...”
His eyes fluttered shut with a last, weak clutching at the force, like a child to it’s mother’s finger... Every joint in his body went liquid, and as he slipped into unconsciousness he never noted the unpleasant smile that twisted the politician’s calm visage....
TBC.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Torture And Tranquility