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All We Can Do

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Sabre opens the door and spots a pair of shoes too small to belong to any of the inhabitants.

He sighs, “Leia!”

A huff sounds from under an armchair and a disgruntled Leia Naberrie-Skywalker emerges. Her hair is ruffled, and there’s an imprint of the carpet on her cheek. She gives him a look.

“How long were you under there?”

“Only an hour, Asajj came through so I hid and then I fell asleep,” she shrugs.

Sabre kicks his shoes off and dumps his backpack on the rack. Like most of his brothers on Coruscant, Sabre goes to school in the Jedi Temple. Generally, this means his school day is a lot shorter than most of the planets. The Jedi are very good teachers and Sabre doesn’t go to the classes that involve Force use. Leia, on the other hand, is bunking.

“Leia, you can’t keep doing this,” Sabre scolds, making his way into the kitchen, “Not only do you have to go to school, but you also can’t run away everytime your family annoys you.”

She frowns, “Yeah, but Luke was being dumb and dad only encourages him. And besides, Master Ali says I’m the best in his class so why do I need to go? Obi has already taught me most of that stuff anyway.”

“Keep this up,” Sabre presses a glass of juice into her hand, “And he’ll stop teaching you things outside of the course.”

If looks could kill he’d be dead ten times over, but at least she doesn’t argue.

¬

“Tenth time this month Leia’s stayed with us,” Cody notes as his husband finally climbs into bed, “Something going on?”

Obi-Wan sighs, “No, she just prefers to be here. Apparently, it’s training for when she gets to be my padawan. Besides, this way she actually goes to all her classes.”

“She’s only seven,” Cody points out, going back to his book, “It’ll be years before she’s your padawan.”

¬

As a new knight, Ahsok’s spent a lot of time on missions recently. It’s tradition, apparently. Thankfully, due to all the time Master Obi-Wan put into helping her decide what she wanted, all the missions she’s been on have involved healing and relief efforts. It was good, enlightening and fulfilling and all of that, but she’s glad to be back in the temple for the foreseeable future.

“Soka!” Naps collides with her legs as she steps through the door, “You’re back!”

She laughs, ruffling his hair, “Yeah, I am. Where are the dads?”

“Buir is working, but Pa is here.”

“He’s cooking your return from mission meal,” Obi-Wan says, dramatically flicking a dish towel as he emerges from the kitchen, “You’re back early.”

She shrugs, giving him a side hug, “The transport was quicker than expected, and I decided to surprise you.”

He frowns, “Your post mission meal isn’t ready yet, though, I timed it to be ready when you came back. Well, no matter. We have snacks. How was your mission? Not too stressful? Was there any active combat?”

“Good, no and no,” Ahsoka rolls her eyes fondly, allowing Master Obi-Wan to steer her to the table.

Naps follows, and obediently eats the fruit his father gives him. Recently, Obi-Wan has become obsessed with snacks. According to Snaps, this is annoying. Leia and Naps both think it’s great. Cody commed her to tell her the truth, which is that snacking is a new coping mechanism from Obi-Wan’s mindhealer to help with his food aversion.

She takes the chocolate and fruit with no complaint, and answers all Obi-Wan’s Concerned Master™ questions.

¬

“Remember Palpatine?”

“That weirdo Chancellor? Wasn’t he behind the war or something?”

“I think so, but I was just remembering how ugly he was. He gave off really creepy vibes.”

¬

“Palpatine was so weird,” Anakin says suddenly, interrupting the peaceful silence that had fallen over the sitting room.

It’s late, all six of the children are in bed and Obi-Wan broke out a bottle of his best wine, even though he isn’t drinking it.

“Force he gave me the creeps,” Obi-Wan shudders, leaning against Anakin.

Cody and Padme exchange an eye roll, and his wife reaches to refill her glass, “And why, exactly, are we bringing that up now?”

“It’s a week until the anniversary,” Anakin says, taking another sip of wine, “It will have been eight years since the end of the war.”

“Fuck,” Cody says.

“Quite,” Obi-Wan agrees, a small smile on his lips, “I’m not sure I ever thought we’d get this far. Or live this long.”

There’s a slightly awkward pause, like there always is when Obi-Wan casually mentions how fucked up he was by the end of the war. Because, really, Anakin’s former Master isn’t even middle-aged. He’s only forty, and most humans or near humans live to at least a hundred and fifty.

“Honestly?” Cody sighs, “Me neither. Or, well, I didn’t expect this many of us to make it out alive.”

Padme smiles sadly, “Hopefully, war will remain a foreig concept to our children.”

“It’s too late for Ahsoka,” Anakin says, “Though I wish it wasn’t.”

“The life of a Jedi is never easy,” Obi-Wan adds, staring into his tea, “So long as there is war in the galaxy, some of our children will see it. All we can do is try our best to give them a real childhood. And manage the effects when they come home.”

¬

“Leia!” Luke screeches, chasing after his twin, “That’s mine! Give it back, give it back.”

“No!”

Asajj looks up from her book, confirms that no one is in immediate danger, and goes back to reading. With these children, there’s always a fight going on somewhere.

“Luke, Leia!” a panting Ahsoka follows close behind, “Stop running in the gardens! When did you get so fast?”

“When did you get so unfit?” Asajj asks dryly.

“When I started going on missions instead of running around after these hellions,” she sasses back, giving up on policing the children and plopping onto the bench next to her, “What’re you reading?”

“Kenobi gave me a book on fungi, I thought it would be polite to read it.”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, “Ah yes, Asajj Ventress, the epitome of politeness. Just admit you like the books he gives you.”

She doesn’t deign to acknowledge that. There is absolutely nothing she likes about Kenobi, except his cooking. It really is the only reason she’s stuck around this long. (And maybe the kids too, but who wouldn’t find the brats cute?). She most certainly would never, ever, admit to liking anything about him aloud. And Tano knows it.

¬

“Cyare,” Cody calls, shutting the door quietly behind him. He toes off his shoes and pads softly into the living room.

Obi-Wan looks up from his book with a smile, and Force does Cody love him. He’s going grey at the temples, from stress surely, and his face is lined after so many years of exhaustion but he’s as beautiful as the first time Cody saw him. More even, because now Cody is allowed to look, allowed to think these things.

“You’re staring,” Obi-Wan comments dryly, “Come here, you’ve been gone all day. I missed you, and so did the hooligans.”

Cody obediently joins him on the sofa, and he puts his book aside to bury his head in Cody’s chest.

“You alright, cyar’ika?”

“Mmm, just tired. How was your day? Did Rex manage to get you drunk?”

Cody rolls his eyes, running a hand through his husband's hair, “No, he barely even tried. We mostly just talked about what he’s been doing. He met someone, apparently they’ve been dating for a few months but he didn’t want to tell anyone because we’re “fuckers with no sense” and we’d scare xe off.”

“Xe must be strong willed if he’s willing to tell us now.”

“Xey live in the outer rim, he’s only telling us because we’re only going to be able to meet xir in a year, and he knows if he waits that long we’ll kick his ass.”

“I’m glad he’s happy,” Obi-Wan smiles, “You all deserve so much happiness.”

He sighs, pulling Obi-Wan closer to him, “We’ve found out happiness, in large part thanks to you. Don’t argue with me, it’s true.”

“I disagree,” his voice is muffled by Cody’s jumper, “But I suppose my opinion isn’t really relevant.”

“You’re right,” Cody kisses his hair, “It isn’t.”