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All We Can Do

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Anakin has always considered his master rather unflappable. Obi-Wan Kenobi can take anything with a smile and carefully crafted clap back. Right now, though, he seems pretty flapped. Anakin doesn’t think he’s stopped ranting to breathe in twenty seconds.

“- the level of stupidity required to make this much of a mess. Honestly, anyone would think you’d been raised by incompetent fools! You lack any subtlety at all, you get your secret wife pregnant and then you allow a SITH LORD to nearly TURN YOU! Do you know how much work I have to do, Anakin? How much paperwork you cause me on a normal day? How many lives depend on me? Do you really think I have any time at all for this nonsense? I just killed the Chancellor, and now you think you can blame me for your faults! You couldn’t wait a few fucking hours to implode the entire Republic? Just because of a few dreams clearly planted by a Sith Lord? You are not prone to visions Anakin, and you know as well as anyone that trying to prevent visions can set in motion the events you fear!”

Obi-Wan is pacing. Anakin, Padme and fucking Yoda sit on the couch in front of him. Asajj Ventress is standing in the corner, laughing. Cody looks as stoic as always, solid support for Obi-Wan.

“Do you have any idea how much I have sacrificed for you? Never once have I regretted it, until this moment. You should’ve been a crechemaster. Or a pilot. I should’ve said fuck you Qui-Gon Jinn, you don’t deserve my fucking loyalty. The terrified traumatised boy does not need to be a Jedi Knight, he needs a home and stability! Instead, I listened to the words of a dead man and his fucking prophecy. I haven’t slept in four days Anakin, and you still call me to clean up your messes? Do you know how lucky you are that I didn’t pass out in the middle of that duel? I don’t remember the last time I ate! I just fought Grievous, and then you call me to deal with Sidious?”

“Master-” Anakin tries to interject but Obi-Wan steamrolls right over him.

“And you, Master Yoda! Your bullshit nearly cost us the Jedi Order. No attachments, no attachments. Lead to the Darkside they do. Do you really think any of us would still be in the light if we weren’t attached? Teach us how to deal with love and our power, instead of cutting us off from it! I would have fallen a million times over if I didn’t have a reason to cling to the Light! And stop with all the preaching, children don’t give a shit. If you’d stopped for a second and been kind to the little slave boy we might have avoided a lot of pain.

“Padme, I expected better of you. Marrying a man five years younger than you who just lost his mother? Ridiculous! A secret marriage. This could ruin your whole career! And then not getting proper medical care? Are you insane? I- I had a point with all of this…”

“General,” Cody rests a hand on his shoulder, “I think you need to sleep.”

“I’m sorry!” Anakin bursts out, throwing himself at his master, “I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan.”

Cody tries to push him off but Obi-Wan pulls him into his arms with a strength Anakin is fairly certain he doesn’t really have. His Force signature is like a balm to Anakin’s own aching soul. His master is so Light. So full of power and kindness and love. Why had he ever resented him? How could he ever think Obi-Wan didn’t care for him?

“It’s alright,” he whispers into his hair, “It’s alright, dear one.”

Cody snorts but says nothing. Anakin thinks he might be taking most of Obi-Wan’s weight.

For his part, Anakin sobs into his former master's shoulder. And Obi-Wan embraces him, all of his broken parts and barely healed hurts. Obi-Wan forgives him, for all the mistakes he nearly made and the ones he actually did.


Obi-Wan is exhausted. Anakin cried himself to sleep in his arms, but Obi-Wan doesn’t have the time for something so trivial. Everyone needs to stop looking so goddamn concerned. He has at least another week in him before he collapses.

After he’s tucked Anakin into bed, he turns to his audience, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

He doesn’t stumble on his way out the door.

He’s fine. Definitely completely fine. No cause for concern here, no sir. Distantly, he realises he’s dissociating. No matter, he can work through it. It’s hardly the first time.

“General,” Cody lays a hand on his shoulder, a copy of what he did earlier, “General, the war’s over. You can take a break.”

How did Cody follow him? Did everyone follow him? A quick glance around shows that no, no one else followed. Just Cody. Huh. Why did Cody follow him?

“The war is never over, my dear commander,” he finds himself saying, “Not until everyone who fought it is dead.”

Or free. Ah, that reminds him, he needs to get the clones citizenship.

“General,” Cody repeats, firmer, “You need to take a break.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, “No, I have a lot to do. I need to set up negotiations with the Separatists and release all the information on Palpatine's corruption and find somewhere for you and your brothers to stay. Oh and I have-”

He’s cut off as Cody hugs him.


“General,” he says, “General, you are exhausted. You have multiple injuries from the two battles you took part in. You haven’t eaten in days and you’ve been through a horrible emotional experience. You need to take a damn break. Let everyone else do their damn jobs for once.”


It’s a mark of how tired the General is that he doesn’t argue. Obi-Wan’s body melts against Cody’s. He can feel his ribs through the layers of robes and his blacks. They really are lucky he didn’t pass out in the middle of fighting Darth Sidious.

Cody is angry. He’s angry that his brothers have fought and died in a pointless war. He’s angry that the Kaminions put chips in their heads. He’s angry that General Skywalker nearly betrayed them all. Right now, none of that anger serves a purpose. So instead, he’s going to take care of his general. It’s all he can do.

Protect the man who will fight for them. Take care of his friend in the aftermath of an awful battle. It’s all he can do.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan takes a ten-hour nap. It’s possibly the longest he’s slept in years. And honestly, it’s a bit long for a nap but calling it that makes him feel better. A nap is acceptable, a full night of sleep is not.

Cody has fallen asleep beside him at some point, though embarrassingly he can’t remember when. Was he in the bed from the beginning?

Oh Force, did he fall asleep in the speeder on the way back to the Temple? That’s mortifying. He vaguely remembers stumbling to his quarters but nothing beyond that. He must’ve been more exhausted than he realised. How embarrassing.

Next to him, Cody breaths softly. His face is relaxed in sleep, all the worry melted away. Obi-Wan wishes he didn’t ever have to regain the tension of the galaxy. For a brief moment, he considers kidnapping the entirety of the GAR and running away to a distant planet. The logistics would be a nightmare, but he could probably do it. The population of Coruscant is far larger than the GAR, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Then he remembers he has a duty to the Jedi and the Senate as well as to the vode.

And besides, he doubts all of the men would be happy with the idea of abandoning everything. Cody, at least, seems determined to stay with him and Woffle would never leave Plo. It’s a nice idea though. He shelves it for later consideration.

Right now, he can work on getting them citizenship. It was a goal from the beginning, but the clones belonged to the Senate and no one was willing to argue it. He supposes that he’ll have to work on a campaign that plays on people’s guilty consciences and public image. Get the public to fight for the clones. Yes, that would do it. He can enlist Bail for help, and maybe Padme if she survives the scandal of her marriage.

That reminds him, he needs to reform the Jedi Order. And attempt to help Ahsoka, in any way possible.

Obi-Wan snorts, staring at the ceiling. Ah yes, such an easily achievable to-do list. Shouldn’t take more than a week. Plus negotiating the official end of the war, removing all the damned chips in his men's heads and rescuing all the cadets from Kamino. Easy peasy.

“Stop thinking so loud,” Cody grumbles, covering his head with a pillow, “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

It’s so unlike his Commander that Obi-Wan can’t help but laugh, “Sorry, my dear, so much to do.”

Cody grunts, “Well, first you can get us some breakfast. Before you pass out again from hunger, preferably.”

Ah, yes, it’s been at least three days since he last ate. Obi-Wan decides not to dignify the not so subtle scolding with a response. He’s a (barely) functional adult who can make his own poor choices.

He does, however, make breakfast. Cody stays in bed a little longer, until the smell of Obi-Wan’s fantastic recently requisitioned eggs. Apparently Master Yoda put in an order for him yesterday. How delightful. He suspects it’s a guilt gift but he’ll take it.

“You know,” Cody says, once he’s scraped his plate clean, “I didn’t expect you to be able to cook.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, “My Master couldn’t cook to save his life, so the dubious honour fell to me. And Anakin can’t boil water without setting it on fire. I have been cooking any meal not eaten in a refectory for twenty years. Tell Boil he wins the bet, and he has my gratitude for believing in me.”

That gets him a laugh, “Boil only bet that way because Waxer promised to split his winnings with him. Your self-care skills don’t make a promising picture.”

Which might be true. It’s not his fault he has too much to do to worry about things like his health. If he can fight, then he’s fine. None of his troopers seem to agree. For shame.

“Well,” he sniffs haughtily, “Boil will be getting a lot of money regardless. And I hope this will be a lesson on assumptions based on dubious evidence.”

“Sir,” Cody looks him dead in the eyes, “You haven’t eaten anything but a ration bar in five days.”

Again, Obi-Wan does not dignify that with a response.


This morning had to end eventually, but Cody wishes Senator Organa could have waited another hour at least. He hasn’t seen his general this relaxed in- well, ever.

His general is spirited away to play politics, and Cody makes his way back to the level of the Temple where most of the troopers are staying. The 212th has set up in the prime position near the door with the 501st. Everyone who sees him smirks like they know where he’s been. They probably do, but none of them will believe him if he tells them all he and the general did was sleep. Obi-Wan would tie himself in ethical knots over the very idea of having sex with a subordinate, never mind a clone trooper. Besides, Cody isn’t sure he even likes sex.

“Boil!” he calls, “Turns out the General can cook. Better collect on that bet.”

“Hah,” his brother appears from behind him with Waxer in tow, “I can probably buy a whole house with that money.”

The other brothers mutter amongst themselves, exchanging looks and money and favours. Yeah, Cody’s just fed the rumour mill for the next three tendays at least. Let them talk. It keeps morale up.

Waxer and Boil are already discussing what they’re going to do with money. Probably buy a ship and visit Numa. Cody’s glad Senators Amidala, Organa, and Mothma managed to get them all the pitiful stipend. It makes betting so much more interesting.

Cody settles himself down against a wall, next to where Rex is napping. He can wait here for his general to resurface from his piles of work.


It takes three days, but Obi-Wan and Bail manage to rouse public support for the clones from all over the galaxy. When the vote is called, it should pass by two-thirds of the majority. Unheard of in the Senate. Bail has a slightly manic look in his eyes as what feels like the ten-thousandth Senator leaves his office after pledging their support. Maybe it is the ten-thousandth Senator. They have fourteen thousand planets officially supporting the bill. Obi-Wan is sure he also looks slightly manic. The vote takes place in three days, and they still have to draw up an official plan to integrate all the troopers into Republic society.

It’s been some of the longest three days of his life. It took three carefully crafted PR videos, five demonstrations and a hundred candid videos to get the ball rolling but they did it. In between all of that, Obi-Wan even managed to sleep for two hours, eat three ration bars and put Anakin in therapy. All in all, this is going a lot better than expected.

At the end of the week, he can start with the Order reforms. And he’s been exchanging comms with Ahsoka. If only Cody was here right now, then everything would be perfect.


Cody is eating with his brothers when the vote goes live. His general stands next to Bail Organa on the screen as Acting Chancellor Amedda grudgingly calls the vote. He watches them tally the votes on the screen with bated breath. He knows people have been showing support for them, but is it enough?

Boil grips the edge of the table with white knuckles. Kix isn’t even blinking. Rex doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

It passes. Cody drops his spoon. It fucking passes by 70%. Holy shit. The general did it, he actually fucking did it.

The mess hall is absolutely silent for a moment, then it erupts into cheering and shouting and crying. Cody leans back in his seat, relieved. The general did it. They’re citizens of the Republic now. Holy shit.


Anakin hasn’t seen his master since he cried all over him. Obi-Wan has sent him numerous comms and directed him to a mind healer, but he hasn’t actually seen him in eight days. Of course, during this period of time Obi-Wan has gotten the clones citizenship and a fucking planet to live on. All Anakin has done is eat and cry and think about his mistakes. And spend time with Padme, who is officially on maternity leave.

Today, though, Obi-Wan has to come see them. Because today, Ahsoka is coming home.

Chapter Text

Seeing Ahsoka again is like a breath of fresh air. She’s so young. And she doesn’t give him a chance to feel awkward.

“It’s so good to see you Master,” she smiles, squeezing the life out of him, “But you look terrible. Where’s Cody?”

“Cody is right here,” he pushes his way through the door, eyebrow raised, “He’s been saving the galaxy, I haven’t been able to corale him.”

Obi-Wan frowns, glaring at them both, “I’ve slept for six hours this tenday, and eaten.”

“Master,” Ahsoka wacks him on the back of the head, “That’s how much you should sleep in a night.”

He doesn’t respond to that, picking his way further into the apartment. C3PO is busy in the kitchen, and arguing with R2 at the same time. Cody follows behind him, silently disapproving that Obi-Wan isn’t using this time to sleep.

He’s looking for Anakin, who seems to be hiding from him. The mind healer reports that his sessions are going well, but Obi-Wan hasn’t had time to follow up with his padawan directly. The comms they’ve exchanged have been nonsensical. There hasn’t been time. This is the centre of all Obi-Wan’s problems, there’s never enough time.

“Anakin!” His padawan is lurking in the sitting room fiddling with some droid parts. “How are you?”

Anakin drops a spanner, eyes wide, “Master! When did you get here?”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, “Five minutes ago, R2 let us in. Where’s Padme? And, again, how are you?”

“Uh,” he blinks, “I’m good? Having Ahsoka back is great and the babies are healthy. Padme’s talking to Bail. Something about when to schedule the proper vote for the new Chancellor.”

Yes, Obi-Wan’s heard about that. Acting Chancellor Amedda is less than stellar, but they don’t want to rush and risk destabilizing the Republic further. It seems likely the vote will take place in nine days.

Anakin is watching him cautiously. Which he supposes is fair considering the last time they saw each other he had a bit of a breakdown. Looking back, Obi-Wan isn’t particularly proud of that but he stands by everything he said. Except regretting training Anakin, but he’s already apologised for that. Maybe Anakin just looks nervous because Cody is glaring at him.

Regardless, Obi-Wan doesn’t like it so he pulls his padawan into a hug.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers, then pulls away to go say hello to Padme.

“- I think Mon is our best option,” she’s saying when he enters her office, Cody still trailing behind him, “If you’re refusing to run.”

She flashes them a smile and gestures for him to come over, ignoring Cody’s scowl.

“Hello there,” he gives Bail a wave, even though they saw each other an hour ago, “It’s lovely to see you, Senator Amidala.”

She gives him a look, “If you’re going to be our daughter's godfather you’re going to need to drop the Senator.”

“Should I call you Amidala then?” he asks innocently. She scowls at him.

“Oh, shut up,” Bail laughs, “Stop antagonizing her.”

“Alright,” he grins, “It’s lovely to see you Padme. How are you doing cooped up with your husband? Has he been fussing?”

“No more than 3PO,” she rolls her eyes, rising to hug him.

It’s rather awkward, with the size of her stomach, but they make it work. Padme, for all his past irritation, is one of his oldest friends. It is good to see her healthy, even if he’s offended she didn’t smack Anakin around the head and tell him herself. Wait, godfather?


“Yes, Obi-Wan,” she says fondly, squeezing his hand, “There is no one we’d rather have, though you’ll have to share both of them with Bail and Rex. I suspect both will have a full battalion of uncles soon enough. What do you think, Cody?”

“You got that right, Senator,” Cody grunts.

The vode have been stockpiling baby gifts, Obi-Wan knows. They have a rather large amount. They’re quite proud of it. Echo and Jesse are already arguing about who will be the favourite uncle. When Cody had shared this, Obi-Wan had told him to remind them that he would be the favourite uncle.

Obi-Wan clears his throat awkwardly, pushing away the unexpected emotion, “Have you thought of names yet?”

She rests a hand on her stomach, smiling gently, “Luke, for the boy, and Leia for the girl. I suggested Shmi but…”

He nods, “Shmi is a slave name and Anakin’s children are free. Luke the light, and Leia the brave. They’re wonderful names, Padme. Will they be Amidala or Skywalker?”

“Naberrie-Skywalker actually,” she shrugs, “Naboo is a matriarchal society, so traditionally it would be Naberrie. That’s my family name, not Amidala. But, I want the children to have something of Anakin and his childhood. It’s part of their culture too.”

“Luke and Leia Naberrie-Skywalker,” he smiles, “I think we’ll have two little troublemakers in no time.”


Dinner at the Skywalker house goes surprisingly well, even if Cody would rather his general was taking a break to actually sleep. For all the di’kut is proud of himself for sleeping at all, it’s not nearly enough. Near as Cody can figure he’s got days until the medics descend and sedate him.

“Oh,” Ahsoka smiles, “I never got the chance to thank you, Master Obi-Wan, for the contacts you gave me. I was quite surprised, but they were all very helpful.”

Cody’s general smiles softly, old guilt in his eyes, “Yes. Ventress was quite fond of you, and she’s made quite the life for herself. I thought you might find her advice helpful. For how different they were, your situations were also rather similar.”

The day his general made friends with Ventress was one of the most stressful days of Cody’s life, but it has served them well. The former darksider assassin is currently being a general terror in the Jedi Temple, and she pops up often wherever Obi-Wan is. Cody thinks his general rather enjoys their verbal spars.

“Wait,” General Skywalker looks between the two of them, “You put her in touch with Ventress?”

“Well, first I put her in touch with Dex and Bail,” Obi-Wan comments mildly, picking his way through the decadent meal, “But I thought Ventress might be able to help. And she was.”

Before the two can start bickering about it, Cody changes the subject, “Do you know when the twins are due?”

“In nineteen days,” Senator Amidala says, “Give or take a few I suppose.”

“Oh wow,” Ahsoka looks a bit green, “That’s soon.”

“You don’t have to be there, ‘Soka,” Skywalker smirks, “I imagine human birth is a bit of a gross process to young Torgruta’s.”

The Senator kicks him under the table.


Reforming the Jedi Order is both easier and more difficult than Obi-Wan expected. Everyone seems to see the need for change. The war has shaken them all to their foundations. They’ve lost too many, too young. So many Jedi are dead or Fallen. Something has to give.

It’s harder because Master Che, Cody and Kix have all banned him from working unless he’s had at least five hours of sleep and eaten something. And the change has to come slowly.

He starts with educating the public. The galaxy was content to watch the Jedi fight and die for them, the galaxy would’ve let them be massacred. That’s a problem.

It takes five Council meetings for them to agree on a PR strategy but they get there. They choose representatives from the Council to deal with that side of things. Obi-Wan declines a permanent position in that vein, but he gets the task of helping set up a documentary. They’ll advertise Jedi aid centres. They’ll explain the Force and why Jedi children are brought to the Temple so young. This dubious honour goes to Depa and Adi.

The in-Order changes are harder. More oversight within Master-Padawan pairs. (So no child will suffer like he did). Dealing with attachment rather than scorning it. Valuing the Corps. Training older children.

It’s slow going, but it is going.


Obi-Wan sleeps better when Cody is there. Neither of them have acknowledged it yet, but it’s true. His general has fewer nightmares and is more willing to sleep when Cody sleeps next to him. Cody doesn’t mind. Obi-Wan would never ask him to stay, he’s far too proud for that.

It also means the general eats. He would never let Cody go hungry, and Cody won’t eat if he doesn’t too. And Obi-Wan can cook. Cody hasn’t eaten this well ever.

“How’s saving the galaxy going?” Cody asks, dropping onto the sofa next to the general.

“It’s going,” he answers distractedly, “And I’m not saving the galaxy I’m just-”

“Doing what has to be done,” he finishes, settling in for a nap, “Wake me for midmeal?”

Obi-Wan smiles warmly at him, “I will.”

Chapter Text

Moving around four million men from all over the galaxy to a planet in the Mid Rim is easier said than done. For one thing, the infrastructure on said planet isn’t complete yet, not for the number of citizens it will soon have to support. For another, many of them don’t want to settle at all. The locals are welcoming enough, though there are few of them, and it’s all very promising. Just difficult.

For the citizenship to hold, however, all the clones (every single one, from newly decanted to hardened veterans) need to register with the planet. Of course, any vod who served in the GAR has citizenship anyway, but for those on Kamino this is how it has to go. The vode will be citizens of Citlatu, and therefore of the Republic.

It’s all a bit complicated, Obi-Wan will admit. And that’s not getting started on actually getting the rest of the vode off of Kamino. When he’s feeling particularly frustrated he considers just kidnapping them all by force. It makes for a nice daydream.

Of course, he can’t do that. So instead, he’ll go and retrieve them himself. Peacefully.


Cody would like to say his mission to teach his general self-care has been going well, but that would be a lie. It is, in fact, going terribly.

They had a good patch for a while, where Obi-Wan was sleeping most of the night. But apparently dealing with all the clone citizenship stuff is more important than staying alive. Which, it isn’t. Without the general, none of it would get done so it’s important he’s alive to do it. Cody is grateful his general cares so much, but the man needs to sleep.

So, when they arrive on Kamino and Obi-Wan practically melts at the sight of the shiniest shinies Cody gets an idea.


The youngest vode love the general. They think he’s the coolest person they’ve ever seen. Apparently, the glamour of Shaak Ti has worn off. This means it’s quite easy for Cody to find a group of volunteers.

“Alright!” he calls to silence the room, “Everyone know the plan?”

A brother who’s probably about six nods eagerly, “We get General Kenobi to nap with the babies. We tell him we want to play and then say the babies need a nap and they fall asleep on him so he can’t leave.”

“That’s right, good job, Snap,” Waxer smiles, giving the kid a high five.

The Jedi transformed the unwelcoming halls of the place Cody grew up into a hive of bustling activity and light. One of the Cuy'val Dar arrived a while ago with a cure for the accelerated ageing. They’ve created a new schedule for the kids and made sure that they were just kids. They’ve turned the Kaminions out on their arses.

And this is just the transition period. This is what they’ve done while they’re figuring out how to transport the million tiny humans off of Kamino.

For all of that, his general deserves a good night of sleep.


Obi-Wan had hoped to do this with the support of the Kaminions, but that didn’t pan out. Shaak Ti had been waiting to take full control of this place since she arrived, and Obi-Wan can’t say he really tried to stop her.

So parts of his daydream have come true. The Kaminions have no rights to the clones, and now he can free them all. Help them free themselves.

Turning Kamino into a giant creche wasn’t really a part of any plan, but it’s what’s happened. They have to wait three weeks to transport the tiny vode. The least they can do is make this a home until then.

When Snap comes to ask him to play with them, he can’t say no.

Here’s a badly kept secret, Obi-Wan Kenobi melts in the presence of children. They’re his favourite beings in the galaxy. Full of innocence and light. It’s true that the vode aren’t as innocent as many children, but they’re still full of hope and light. They shine in the Force. In a galaxy where most sentients have been dimmed by the war, it’s a breath of fresh air. If he could, Obi-Wan would personally adopt all of the clones. All nearly five million of them.

He doesn’t notice the smug look on Cody’s face as he follows Snap to what used to be a training hall. He doesn’t realize he’s been tricked until he’s covered in tiny sleeping bodies. Oh dear.

It’s really not his fault he falls asleep in the pile of children. It was a devious plan, after all.


Kal Skirata doesn’t precisely like Obi-Wan Kenobi and the rest of the Jedi, but he finds he can’t hate them either. They’ve done what he couldn’t, given all the clones freedom. They contacted him to ask for his help, instead of clinging to their pride. God, he wants to hate them but he can’t.

His boys have been fascinated by Kenobi since a video of him fighting circulated the whole of the GAR. And that fascination has not eased since they’ve arrived on Kamino.

Kal will admit, only in the privacy of his mind, that Kenobi is competent. Scarily so. He also cares, openly and freely. The damn man is all sharp lines and soft corners. And his boys think he’s hot. (That is a conversation he pretended not to hear, Kal has no desire to know how they think Obi-Wan Kenobi looks naked).


Operation Kenobi Naps is a success. General Kenobi is sleeping under a pile of babies, and Snap is very proud of himself. Maybe his ori’vod will give him chocolate now. Chocolate is the best.

But first, he might join the sleeping babies. Only for a little bit, because Snap is basically an adult now and he doesn’t need naps anymore. But the general and his brothers need a guard while they’re sleeping and if Snap lies down next to them he can keep them safe.


Cody watches his general, sleeping peacefully among his brothers, with a smile. Finally, the idiot is getting some much-needed rest. And so is Snap, who’s taken his job as leader of Operation Kenobi Naps very seriously. The kid deserves a nap too. Beside him, Waxer is trying not to be too obviously sappy and Boil is pretending the sight isn’t absolutely adorable. Both are failing.

This is what he fought for, Cody thinks. His general, safe and cared for. His brothers, free. His little brothers, given the chance just to be children.

Chapter Text

Anakin has had a fair few tendays to contemplate all the ways he’s made his Master's life difficult. This is made easier by the fact Obi-Wan doesn’t blame him at all.

But, fair to say, Anakin has been a bit of an idiot.

First of all, his padawanship began with the death of his grandmaster. He’s looked it up and, even with the war, Obi-Wan is the only Jedi to take a padawan before he was even properly knighted. No one does that. It paints a rather depressing picture overall.

As a child Anakin relied heavily on his Master. He slept in his bed, had most of his lessons with him, ate every meal with him, sparred with him, everything. In hindsight, that was a lot to put on a twenty-year-old Knight. And then when he reached his teenage years, he wrenched himself away from Obi-Wan. He put distance and anger in between them. He was downright cruel sometimes. Obi-Wan was the perfect Jedi, he’d reasoned, he can’t understand how I feel.

It’s a trap much of the Order has fallen into. Obi-Wan Kenobi, the perfect Jedi. That's a lot of pressure for one man to shoulder.

Also, Anakin has come to realise that the Jedi Council does not, in fact, hate him. Yes, he was shocked too. They’re a bunch of emotionally repressed stuffy bastards, but they don’t hate him or fear him. They fear what he can do, they fear his arrogance, but he’s learning that that’s not the same thing. His mindhealer has managed to shift his view of the entire Order.

He remembers now what Obi-Wan taught him at the very beginning of his apprenticeship. He hadn’t understood then what his master meant. That he could mourn his mother, but her life was now separate from his own. (He’s learnt that Obi-Wan tried to free her, and the Council didn’t know he was a slave until much later. How much of his life was false?). That he could love and let go of love at the same time. All of it was too much for a nine-year-old ex-slave. (Too much for a too young master and a too old padawan).

Palpatine twisted the truth to suit his purposes and clouded Anakin’s judgement of the people who raised him. In the end, it was never the Jedi who were the villains. It was the Senate, and the Chancellor and Anakin’s own fear and arrogance.

The mindhealer is helping to clear it all up, but he still has a ways to go. Anakin has spent a lot of time reading up on Jedi philosophy recently.

He understands that what Obi-Wan is doing isn’t throwing out the Code, but challenging interpretations of it. People fear the Jedi because they are different. They can command powers beyond understanding. And the Jedi fear themselves too. Fear their power.

That is why the Order is so strict.

The Force is everything and everywhere and they are privileged to witness it. And if misused, many people could get hurt. Anakin nearly fell, and he will have to live with that knowledge for the rest of his life.


“Anakin!” his master smiles, a small clone hanging onto his neck, “How is Padme? She’s due in three days. I am on my way back. I should arrive in good time.”

“Uh, she’s good, master,” Anakin raises an eyebrow, “Who’s your little friend?”

“Ah!” Obi-Wan exclaims, swinging the child around onto his lap, “This is Sabre, he wants to be a Jedi. He isn’t Force-sensitive, but I have brought him to see the Temple anyway. He’s very excited.”

The boy nods vigorously. He looks to be about six standard, but he’s probably actually closer to three with the accelerated ageing.

“I can’t be a Jedi,” Sabre grins, “But I can stay with Obi and Cody. And Obi will show me how to use a training lightsabre.”

Obi-Wan’s smile is wry, “Yes, so Sabre is coming home with me. And he is very excited to meet Luke and Leia.”

He nods again, then slips out of Obi-Wan’s lap to go make chaos elsewhere.

His master watches the boy go with a soppy grin, then turns to Anakin, “And you, my dear padawan? How are you? Excited for the birth of your beautiful, healthy children?”

“Yes master,” Anakin rolls his eyes, “We have established that I am a fool. I am excited though and terrified but I’ve been told that that’s normal. How are you, Obi-Wan? Have you been sleeping? Cody commed Padme to complain the other day. You shouldn’t have to be tricked to get a night's rest, Obi-Wan.”

The tips of his Master’s ears flush red, “I am very busy and-”

“-don’t have the time?” he finishes wryly, raising an eyebrow, “Sleep, master, you deserve it.”

Obi-Wan hums non-committedly.


Sabre has never left Kamino and is understandably excited to see Coruscant. Obi-Wan lets the child clutch his hand as they walk the crowded streets. Cody holds Naps in his arms.

If he could, Obi-Wan would adopt the whole clone army. As it is, he has two little boys who light up in the Force whenever he sees them. He might not have filed the official paperwork yet, but Naps and Sabre are his sons. (Just like Ahsoka is his daughter, Anakin his brother and Aayla his niece.)

The relationship between him and Cody is evolving slowly. Obi-Wan doesn’t want to force him into anything and Cody doesn’t want to go too fast and overwhelm him. (Obi-Wan has slept with half the Temple and most of the Senate, but he is not used to being loved). (Cody would never feel obligated to love his general, which is part of why he does). Cody is contemplating proposing to his general (to his jettii, to his cyare, to his Obi-Wan). Partly so they can adopt the kids together, partly because he just really wants to call Obi-Wan Kenobi his husband.


Padme kicks her husband out of the delivery room. Obi-Wan gets to stay, but Anakin is leaking anxiety everywhere and is overall being unhelpful. She imagines he’s gone to sit with Ahsoka. They’re probably bemoaning the grossness of childbirth.

“I am never having sex again,” she grits out, squeezing Obi-Wan’s hand, “Never.”

To his credit, Obi-Wan just smiles and agrees. He’s exactly the right amount of encouraging without being condescending. Why didn’t she marry him? Fourteen-year-old Padme had way better standards. She never would’ve chosen the boy with anger issues over the experienced and competent Jedi Master.

Of course, Obi-Wan is not interested in younger women much less the younger women his padawan has had a crush on since he was nine. (She got drunk with him and Bail once, and both of them are extreme oversharers).

Another contraction hits her, and she can feel the bones in Obi-Wan’s hand grinding together. He doesn’t flinch. Bless him.


Luke and Leia are bright in the Force. Their Force signatures twine together as the twins curl around each other.

Padme is asleep and Obi-Wan stands guard over the three of them. Anakin had to go to his mindhealer appointment but he doesn’t mind. The children glow, and Obi-Wan just knows they are destined for great things. (In another universe, they are destined for terrible pain. In this one, they will never have to experience the same depth of sorrow.).

A thin bond already exists between them and Obi-Wan. He suspects that he will one day train Leia. But for now, they’re innocent and free of worldly expectations.

Luke curls his fists, blinking sleepily. He projects contentment into the Force. Leia’s feelings are more chaotic, a level of disgruntled he’s never seen from a newborn before.

He feels tears well up. It’s possible he hasn’t slept in far too long, but Obi-Wan had expected to live his life without ever feeling this much joy. The life of a Jedi can be lonely, and the Force has always told him he was meant for loneliness. Visions of a one-man hut in a wasteland, with nothing but guilt and sorrow for company have haunted him his whole life. Now they’re gone, and all that’s in their place is love.

Chapter Text

“Are we gonna see them?” Sabre asks, hanging off Obi-Wan’s hand, “I want to see Luke and Leia. Are they really smaller than Blue? Blue was decanted like two weeks ago, how can they be smaller than him?”

Cody chooses to leave the answer to that question to Obi-Wan. He doesn’t know much about natborn reproduction and he’s not exactly eager to learn. Obi-Wan mentioned something about the Senator needing to push them out and, while that makes sense, Cody wants nothing to do with it. Naps is napping on his shoulder, living up to his name. Sabre named him and Cody wonders how many brothers out there have a similar name.

The Senator is sleeping when they arrive, and the ade are gurgling at each other in their cots. Naps and Sabre are both fascinated by the absolutely tiny children. (So is Cody, they’re so small what the fuck). Luke and Leia are now three days old. He pulls Obi-Wan into his arms as they supervise the children.

A small part of Cody was sure the war would never end or, at least, he wouldn’t be alive to see it. But it is over, he made it and so did so many of his brothers. And his cyare. It’s all his best dreams rolled into one.

“Can I hold one?” Sabre asks, turning back to look at them pleadingly. Obi-Wan nods with a quiet laugh, peeling himself away from Cody’s side.

He lifts Leia carefully out of her cot and walks closer to the bed, “Sabre, you sit there.”

Sabre settles obediently into the chair next to the bed, and Obi-Wan carefully puts Leia in his arms.

“Support her head,” Obi-Wan instructs quietly, adjusting Sabre’s arms.

“Woah,” his eyes are wide, “She’s so small. What if I break her?”

“You won’t,” Obi-Wan smiles gently, kneeling next to their son, “She’s tough, and I’m right here to help if you need it.”


During the war, Obi-Wan got quite used to nightmare logistics but this is on a whole other level. Most of the vode are now on Citlatu, the difficulty is registering them all with the planetary government. It’s made more complicated by the fact that Obi-Wan himself is on Coruscant dealing with Jedi and Senate matters.

The vode need to set up their own government in the newly built main city on Citlatu, and coordinate with the existing system to form a united one. But, of course, the Kaminions didn’t think it prudent to teach politics as well as battle tactics. Yeah, it’s complicated.

“Cody isn’t going,” Obi-Wan states firmly, locking eyes with Master Windu, “He doesn’t want to and I won’t force him. There are vode willing to learn and take up governmental positions. All we need to do is teach them. There are hundreds of qualified Jedi. Why aren’t we sending them again? Because the Senate says so?”

Mace sighs, “Obi-Wan, I know how you feel but the fact remains-”

Adi interrupts, “The fact remains the Senate wants to make sure the clone settlement on Citlatu fails so they can pretend all the clones are good for is war. They want to prove a point and we can’t let them.”

“Adi is right,” Depa says firmly, “We have public support for both the clones and the Jedi. Though they might not like it, we are no longer bound by the Senate. They cannot force us not to provide aid when it is requested of us. We have ten requests from the vode to help them set up a functioning government on record. That should be enough to at least send a diplomatic envoy. Even just a Master and Padawan duo would be a start.”

“I agree,” Obi-Wan strokes his beard, “A Master/Padawan team would be a good place to start. And it would be a wonderful way to get Jedi back out into the field. Too many of our padawans know only war. A mission to help end the war may help many Jedi to start healing. There would be no active combat and we could send many of the younglings and their crechmasters as well to help set up an education system. The educorps are eager to get started as well. We can’t put everything on hold simply because the Senate demands it of us. If their issue is still with the death of the Chancellor then hand me over.”

Yoda wacks his shins, “Do that, we will not. But right, you all are. Put it to vote we must. Send Jedi to Citlatu, will we?”

“All in favour, raise your hand,” Mace sounds exasperated as he calls the vote.

All twelve Councillors raise their hands. Depa gives her former Master a look but he pretends not to see it. Bastard.

“Now, next on our agenda…”


“We are not moving to Citlatu!” Padme throws up her hands, exasperated, “I am a Senator and you’re a Jedi. Both of our jobs demand we remain here.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t laugh but it’s a near thing. Anakin and Padme have been having this argument round and round for days. Padme wins every time. Why his former padawan keeps trying is a mystery.

Next to him, Ahsoka is less successful in concealing her mirth and collapses into giggles as Anakin pouts. They each have a twin while Padme and Anakin argue to their heart's content. Luke and Leia are nearly two weeks old now. Luke gums at Ahsoka’s montrals while Leia happily sucks on Obi-Wan’s fingers. While Anakin and Padme still struggle with the grosser elements of child-rearing, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were raised firmly desensitized to such things. The Jedi creche always needs an extra pair of hands and the older Initiates spend at least half their time helping with the younglings. By the time he was twelve, Obi-Wan had been vomited on, drooled over and cried into.

“Obi-Wan,” Padme says pointedly, eyebrows raised.

“Um,” he blinks at her, “Oh. Right. You can move to Citlatu when the twins are older. It wouldn’t be advisable to go when they’re so young even if you didn’t have other responsibilities here. Coruscant might not be the best place to raise children but you have time. It would be needlessly stressful to move now.”

Padme frowns at him, “Well, not what I was going for but good enough. We can revisit the topic when Obi-Wan decides to move.”

Obi-Wan feels rather caught off guard by that. How does she know he plans to move to Citlatu? And what has that got to do with her and Anakin moving? Leia gurgles around his fingers, projecting sleepiness into the Force.

“Well, of course, we’d only go if Obi-Wan was going with us,” Anakin huffs, though it’s the first Obi-Wan has heard of this, “I thought that would be obvious.”

Ahsoka gives up on trying to conceal her laughter, “Oh my god, your face Master Obi-Wan.”

“Thank you, little one,” he comments wryly, even though he mostly feels bewildered, “I appreciate the sentiment. Having my padawan laugh at me makes my day so much better, how did you know?”

She rolls her eyes, “None of us want to leave you, dumbass, so stop looking so surprised when we say it.”

“I don’t believe anyone said that,” Obi-Wan replies, adjusting Leia in his arms. She’s given up on his fingers and is now sucking on his robe. She doesn’t appear to be hungry so he leaves her be.

Now it’s Anakin’s turn to roll his eyes, “That’s exactly what I said. I don’t want to move to another planet without you, cabur.”

The use of Anakin’s first name for him hits Obi-Wan in unexpected ways. He feels tears prick at his eyes. When Anakin was first his padawan, he didn’t feel comfortable calling him Master and Obi-Wan would never have forced him. The idea of using Mando’a came from Master Nu, surprisingly. Cabur means protector or guardian. It is about as far removed from Tatooine and masters as they could get.

It’s been years since Anakin has called him by the title. One day he just stopped, and it had stung every time he’d called him Master for a full year. He never mentioned it. It was a good thing that Anakin felt comfortable calling him Master, but something about it had still felt wrong.

“Thank you, hibir,” Obi-Wan blinks back the tears, focusing on the child in his arms, “Though I would not-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Ahsoka says gently, “I’m not sure any of us have the emotional capacity for that right now.”

Anakin shakes his head, “And I disagree, so it’s best we leave it for now. Can we have our children back?”

Obi-Wan gives a mock frown, “Mmm, no I don't think so. Leia has just fallen asleep after all.”

“Child stealer,” Padme narrows her eyes.

He laughs, “Only because they wish to be stolen. Go spend time with your husband, and leave the twins to us.”

She makes a face at him but obliges.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan had done his best not to repeat his Master’s mistakes with Anakin. He’d been kind, given praise and made sure Anakin had a firm foundation to build on. It had been difficult, being a teacher and a parent and a brother all at once but he’d managed. Anakin had needed more than most Jedi children and that was okay. It certainly wasn’t a nine-year-old’s fault that he needed a little extra care.

Then when Anakin was thirteen something had changed. It started with the change from cabur to Master. Then Anakin threw himself into lightsabre practice instead of school work and spent less and less time with other Jedi. He started taking every minor criticism meant to help him as an affront on his talent and he stopped listening to Obi-Wan.

It was all of this that led to the rather spectacular miscommunication between the two of them. Obi-Wan is more than willing to admit he failed Anakin by not asking more questions or finding some way to stop him from talking to the Chancellor. It’s admitting that Anakin had a large part to play too that he struggles with. Anakin was being manipulated by a Sith Lord but he was also oblivious to everything Obi-Wan was trying to teach him and all Obi-Wan himself had done.

In the end, the fault lies mostly with Sheev Palpatine.

If he was still alive, Obi-Wan wouldn’t hesitate to kill him again. Perhaps slower and more painfully than last time.

“Master, why are you making that face?” Ahsoka sits down in front of him and Obi-Wan starts. Where did she come from?

“I was meditating.”

“That,” she points at his face, “Was not a meditation face. That was an ‘I’m thinking murderous thoughts’ face.”

He fights the blush threatening to rise on his cheeks, “I was… I was thinking that I wouldn’t mind killing the Chancellor again. Hypothetically, of course, because he is already dead. Now, what are you doing in the room of a Thousand Fountains little one?”

She makes a face, dropping her gaze to her lap, “I- Master I’ve made a life for myself outside the Order. And I’m proud of that, of all I’ve managed to do. I did the right thing for me at the time and I’m glad I did. But… I’m not an adult and I’m tired of being on my own. I was wondering… would you consider taking me as your Padawan? I know the Council was willing to grant me Knighthood but I’m definitely not ready for that.”

Well, that’s- he wasn’t expecting that.

“Did you know,” he smiles at her, “I left the Order when I was thirteen?”

“What?” her head snaps up and she stares at him incredulously, “You did not.”

Obi-Wan laughs, “I did, little one. My Master was in love with another Jedi Master. Tahl had been captured on the planet of Melida/Daan and we were sent to rescue her. Melida/Daan was a planet torn apart by civil war, the Melida and the Daan couldn’t even agree on the name of their planet. They’d been fighting each other for hundreds of years. We arrived to find a third faction had recently sprung up. They called themselves the Young. They were the children of both the Melida and the Daan, sick and tired of the fighting and the death. I wanted to help them, my Master was overcome by his love for Master Tahl. She needed medical attention, and he told me we couldn’t help the Young now or even come back later. Then he gave me an ultimatum, either I left with him then or I left the Order.”

Ahsoka’s eyes are wide, “No.”

“Yes,” he pats her knee, “I told him I would stay because the Force told me I had to. I was one of the oldest of the Young, and- I saw a lot of death in those months but in the end we won. And we brought peace to Melida/Daan. Only, some people weren’t ready. Fighting started breaking out, and the girl I loved, a leader of the Young, died. I called for help from the Jedi and we managed to help set up lasting peace by finding who had fired the shot that killed Cerasi. But I was no longer welcome on the planet and I begged Master Jinn to take me back with him. He did. There is more to the story, I think, than we have time for. But know this, I know what it is to come back to an Order that has made you feel unwelcome. And I know what it is to leave in the first place. I would be honoured to be your Master, Ahsoka.”

He nearly falls flat on his back as she launches herself at him, “Thank you, Master, thank you.”


“When was the last time you slept?” Kix manages to catch General Kenobi in a mostly deserted hallway three months after the end of the war, “And how much have you been eating?”

The general looks rather startled, “Kix, hello. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Kix narrows his eyes, “But you haven’t answered my questions.”

“Ah,” the general clears his throat, “Well, I slept about thirty hours ago. And I ate dinner last night.”

The damned man looks quite proud of himself for that, and Kix can’t quite bring himself to scold him. It is better than he was expecting, clearly Kenobi is trying.

Instead, he says, “That’s a good start sir, would you come eat with me now? It’s nearly latemeal now. And then I can deliver you to Cody for some more sleep?”

“Oh, no,” the general tries to wave away the suggestion, “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He tries to walk away, and Kix holds back a sigh. Idiot. Helix was right, General Kenobi is worse than General Skywalker. Skywalker might be oblivious to other people, but even he would know that was not merely a kind offer. It was an order.

“Sorry sir,” Kix takes a hold of his arm, “You’re eating latemeal with me. It wasn’t a suggestion.”

The general looks rather bewildered but allows Kix to drag him along. Good, he’s learning.


Sabre really likes the Jedi Temple and his new home. Cody understands what life used to be like and helps him adjust. Obi is kind and patient and soft. They make him feel safe. Kamino never felt this safe.

He has his own room, and Naps is next door. The place they live is big, not big like Kamino but big for all the people in it. His parents, Cody and Obi, have a room. Auntie Soka and Auntie Asajj both have their own rooms too. There are cots for when the twins come visit and two spare rooms. One for Ani and Padme, and one for any brother who wants to visit. Sometimes Sabre wishes more brothers lived with them but he also knows that many of his brothers already have other homes.

Obi helps him paint his room. Sabre hates white, it’s cold and sterile and mean. For his new life, he chooses green. Green like the plants Obi keeps in the sitting room, green like Yoda who comes to visit sometimes, green like the training sabre Obi has given him. Green is life and hope and everything new. Sabre likes green.

They paint Naps room a soft yellow, Soka chooses purple and Auntie Asajj says she likes the white. The sitting room is pale blue, the kitchen is yellow. Sabre’s new home is full of colour and people and life. He really really likes it here.

Chapter Text

Sitting in her new quarters, Ahsoka feels more at peace than she has in a long time. The months leading up to the end of the war had been so chaotic, so full of stress and hurt. She doesn’t know what happened in those final days besides vague rumours, but the Force is lighter than it has been since she was a child. And Ahsoka is home. She hadn’t realised how much she ached until she was here. The Temple is part of her.

She still doesn’t trust the Council. Obi-Wan has explained their decision to her, and she understands but she still hurts. They cast her aside. Maybe it’s not fair, they did accept her back, but only three Masters have come to apologise to her. Plo, of course, and Masters Windu and Billiba. She supposes Yoda has apologised in his own way. He keeps ordering them meat. So much meat. Master Obi-Wan is running out of space to put it and ways to cook it. At least it makes Sabre and Naps giggle when their buir is staring at the fridge in utter despair.

So maybe that makes four members of the Council, and then Master Obi-Wan. Ahsoka isn’t sure she will ever truly trust them again.

When she first visited the Temple, after the end, people stared and whispered. She’d been certain she’d never be welcome here again. Master Obi-Wan has helped calm her fears and seeing her creche mates did most of the rest. Barriss’ betrayal still sits heavily in her chest, but Master Obi-Wan has helped with that too. For the first time in a long time, Ahsoka feels like a child again.

“‘Soka!” a little fist bangs on her door, “Auntie ‘Soka, Obi’s made a stew. You have to come eat.”

She smiles, unfolding herself from her meditation pose, “I’m coming, Sabre!”

The kitchen is stuffed full of people. Master Obi-Wan is dishing food, while Cody passes it out. Asajj is sitting at the table, an already empty bowl in front of her. She looks pleased with herself. Sabre sits next to her, chattering more than eating. Naps is slurping broth under the watchful eye of Kix. When Kix got here, Ahsoka isn’t sure. Anakin is hovering anxiously while Padme feeds the twins.

Ahsoka accepts her own bowl of stew from Cody, slipping into the seat on the other side of Asajj.

“How is it?” she nods towards the empty bowl.

Asajj smirks, “Pretty good. Don’t tell Kenobi though, I have to hold something over him.”

“I heard that!” Obi-Wan yells.

Ahsoka stifles a giggle. She digs into her stew, listening to the sounds around her with half an ear. Master Obi-Wan is a surprisingly good cook, for a man who can’t even remember to feed himself.


It was too good to be true. Obi-Wan had been doing so well, and Cody allowed himself to be lulled into a false sense of security.

“Obi-Wan, you need to sleep.”

“In a moment,” the stubborn idiot tries to wave him off, “You go back to bed, Cody.”

Cody sighs, considering his options. It’s been about four days since Obi-Wan has slept for any significant amount of time. He could wake Kix and get him to sedate him, but that seems a bit much. He could go back to bed and deal with this in the morning (yeah right).

He sighs again, abandons his dignity, and throws Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi over his shoulder.

“Cody!” he whisper-yells, mindful of the sleeping children, “Put me down!”

“Sorry, cyare,” he pats his back, “You’re coming to bed. It’s time to sleep.”

Obi-Wan splutters some more, but Cody pays it no mind. They’re going to bed now, and this is the most painless way to achieve his objective. Once in their bedroom, he sets his cyare on the bed and throws him his most comfortable shirt. Obi-Wan scowls at him, tiny in the centre of their bed.

Rolling his eyes, Cody lifts him up again and strips off his clothes before pulling his giant shirt over the idiot’s head.

Obi-Wan glares, hair sticking up everywhere, “This is most undignified, I have things to do my dear.”

“Yes,” Cody agrees wryly, “Like sleeping. With me, your loving boyfriend.”


Cody throws the duvet over his head, and climbs in next to him, “We’re going to sleep. Goodnight, my love.”

Obi-Wan pouts, crossing his arms, “Cody-”


He lasts another ten minutes before he gives in and curls up in Cody’s arms. Internally, Cody smirks. He should do this more often.

“Shut up,” Obi-Wan mumbles, nuzzling his chest.


If anyone were to ask her, Asajj Ventress would say she hates the Jedi Temple. Too calm, too light, blah blah blah. She’d definitely deny liking any of her living companions, except maybe the tiny clones.

The truth, though, is that it’s been a very long time since she’s felt so welcome somewhere. Sure, most of her conversations with Kenobi involve subtle jabs and enough sarcasm to sink a ship, and most of the Jedi are still wary of her, but the Temple itself welcomes her and her companions are all so unbelievably kind. No one told her the Jedi Temple was sentient. It feels like something both of her Masters should’ve mentioned. But, then again, most of the Jedi don’t seem consciously aware of it. To them, it just is. But Asajj, well, Asajj has never been in a building that feels before. The Temple, which she would once have burned to the ground, surrounds all those in it with love. Including her.

And, if all that wasn’t enough, Kenobi can cook. Like damn, can he cook.


“Why do you love me?”

Cody’s heart aches, and he tugs his cyare closer to him, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I was your slaver. You and your brothers had no choice, and I didn’t do enough to stop it. I lead you to your death, over and over. How can you love me? All I am is broken, and all I do is fail. You shouldn’t love me.”

Obi-Wan sounds so certain, as though this is a fact. Cody’s blood boils, and he knows it’s no use but fuck does he hate the Chancellor. The kriffing awful, fucking disgusting crusty pasty old piece of shit.

“You were not my slaver,” he growls, “The Chancellor was. I know you fought for us, for me, for our rights and our personhood. Do not call yourself a slaver. Sabre and Naps? If you hadn’t fought, they wouldn’t be free now. You did not fail me, or Anakin, or Ahsoka, because we know that you tried your best at all times. I love you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, because you are brilliant and kind and you love so deeply. You saved so many of my brothers, who would have died under another General. You threw yourself into oncoming fire to shield shinies and rescue injured vode. I love you, because you are you. I love all parts of you.”

The silence is near deafening as they lie there, and then Cody feels tears soak through his nightshirt. Obi-Wan is crying.

“I’m not worth it,” he mumbles, muffled by Cody’s chest, “I’m not worth your love.”

“That’s my decision to make,” Cody gentles his voice, squeezing Obi-Wan tight, “Not yours.”

“I love you too, Cody. More than I have words for.”

“I know,” he drops a kiss to soft hair, “Don’t worry about that, I know.”

Chapter Text

Sabre sits quietly next to Obi and ‘Soka. They’re both meditating, but he’s just here to be close to them. Cody’s taken Naps to get vaccines or something, and Sabre did not want to stay at home with Auntie Asajj. She’s nice but she’s also kinda scary. And Uncle Anakin is busy doing something with Aunt Padme, something not child-appropriate apparently. So he’s here, trying to copy Obi and ‘Soka. It’s so boring. They’re just sitting with their eyes closed and thinking and breathing. Sabre is bored.

He opens one eye cautiously, and finds Yoda staring right back at him. He yelps, nearly falling onto Obi.

Yoda cackles, “Morning, Sabre. Good day, you’re having hmm?”

“Where’d you come from?” Sabre exclaims, unfolding himself. Maybe if he talks just loud enough, Obi and ‘Soka will come out of their meditation.

“My rooms,” Yoda says, sitting down across from him, “Sleeping in, I was, and then came here to meditate I did. Found you and your family, I have. Bright in the Force you are.”

Sabre frowns. He’s not sure how he feels about this bright in the Force thing. Everyone keeps saying it, but Sabre can’t see it so how does he know what they mean? Does he glow? That would be cool, he thinks, if he glowed. Like one of those weird bugs Obi was showing him pictures of.

“I would invite you to join us in our meditation,” Obi says, opening his eyes (yes!!), “But I imagine Sabre rather wants to get a move on. He’s been sitting still for nearly an hour. It’s very impressive.”

He beams at Obi. The praise makes him feel all warm inside. Sitting still was really hard, and now he gets to watch them spar!


“It was never your fault,” Mace says, just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the bar around them.

Obi-Wan shrugs, staring into his drink, “Some of it was.”

“You were a child,” Mace counters, “We were the adults. Qui-Gon was the adult. None of it was ever your fault, Obi-Wan.”

He sighs, knocking back the rest of his drink and gesturing for another. When he’d decided to come out tonight, he’d thought it would be a lot more fun. Instead he just feels old and tired and sad.

“What’s the point in talking about it now, Mace? He’s dead, he’s been dead a long time.”

Mace seems to disagree, because he keeps talking, “It still hurts you, Obi-Wan. No matter anyone’s thoughts and feelings at the time, all our actions hurt you and those wounds have never healed. Despite it all, you’ve become a phenomenal Jedi and a great man. He would be proud of you.”

He snorts, “He didn’t want me. One of the last things he ever did was repudiate me. He would’ve hated the man I’ve become.”

The worst part is that it’s true. Mace can’t refute it, because Qui-Gon would’ve hated everything the Jedi have become and Obi-Wan with them. If Qui-Gon Jinn had lived, their relationship would be in tatters and Obi-Wan likes to think he’s made his peace with that.

“Fine,” Mace shakes his head, “Maybe that’s true, but I’m proud of you. And if Dooku had had half a brain he would’ve been proud of you. Yoda is proud of you, though he’ll never say it. You shouldered the burdens of your elders, carried things you never should’ve had too, and yet you still sit here with us in the Light. We made you grow up too fast. I regret that, more than anything. It should never have been your responsibility to heal a broken man. Master Yoda… he struggles to admit when he’s wrong but he regrets pushing the two of you together.”

“And if he hadn’t, I never would’ve been a Jedi,” Obi-Wan says simply, any bitterness he once had long gone.

“Do you still think that?” Mace’s gaze is intense, “You do. We have failed you, Obi-Wan. I wanted to take you as my Padawan. You were a bright student, despite your anger and brashness. There were at least twenty Jedi interested enough to speak to Master Yoda. It was easy to see you would become a great Jedi, but Yoda insisted you were meant for Qui-Gon. So we listened. I vowed to myself that if Qui-Gon didn’t wise up soon I would claim you anyway, damn the troll. But when you were sent to the Corps I was on a mission. It took me weeks to let go of the anger I felt, especially after I learned what happened. You deserved better, Obi-Wan. Better than a broken man and blind old Masters.”

For a moment he’s speechless. He’d never noticed any interested Masters, and he’d been looking, but Mace wouldn’t lie to him. Not about this. Obi-Wan has spent so long being grateful to Qui-Gon for giving him the chance to become a Knight. And Master Yoda… Obi-Wan feels old anger rear its ugly head and releases it tiredly. He’d trusted Yoda to take care of him, but he hadn’t. What does it matter?

“We did notice,” Mace continues, “That something wasn’t right. But we assumed you’d come to us if something was really wrong. I’m sorry, Obi-Wan.”

“Thank you, Mace,” he closes his eyes, “I- I thought I was alone. But it’s comforting to know I never was.”


Healing is an awfully slow process. Most of the time, you don’t feel like you’re making any progress at all until you look up one day and realise most of the pain is gone.

That’s how Anakin feels now, as he cradles Leia in his arms. Obi-Wan is napping with Sabre, Naps and Luke on the playmat in the nursery, and Padme is back at work. He feels at peace. His soul no longer aches and his mind is quiet. Everyone he loves is safe. His children will grow up happy and free. To them, war will be an abstract concept, not a reality. He feels… happy.

It’s strange, because he hadn’t realised he was unhappy before. He’d been so angry and miserable, and he hadn’t even known it. It’s only been nine months since the end of the war but already so many fault lines are healing.

Even Obi-Wan, who is still stubbornly refusing to see a mindhealer, feels happier in the Force. They’re healing. Anakin hadn’t realised they could do that. Could be this happy, and safe.

Chapter Text

“Just hear me out!”

Obi-Wan snorts into his tea as his former Padawan’s voice drifts through the apartment. Padme and Anakin are supposed to be on a date, but they seem to have returned early. At his feet, Leia scrunches up her nose and bangs blocks together.

“What is it this time, Ani?” Padme sounds fondly exasperated, “Are you going to say we should get a tooka?”

“No!” Anakin says, then pauses, “Although… anyway, no that is not what I was going to say. We should move in with Obi-Wan!”

There’s a moment of silence.


“Listen,” Anakin bangs something and Obi-Wan assumes they’ve moved into the kitchen, “I love Luke and Leia, but neither of us knows how to take care of kids! The Jedi have always raised kids communally. If we moved in with Obi-Wan we’d have a lot more support and babysitting would be way easier! Cody and Obi-Wan leave Naps and Sabre with Ahsoka and even Ventress all the time. There are no logistics to work out, because they all live together. We’re there every week anyway, we might as well just move in. And The Temple is about the same distance from the Senate as the Republica 500.”

Obi-Wan looks down at Leia, who is trying to use his legs to haul herself to her feet. When did they get so big?

“You won’t do this to me, will you Leia?” he asks, lifting her into his lap, “When I’m your Master you’ll treat me with respect, and ask before you decide to move in with me again, won’t you? Yes, you will, yes you will.”

He bumps his nose against hers and she laughs, high and bright. Luke, previously distracted by R2’s holo’s, looks up. He crawls over to Obi-Wan too, babbling happily about something or other.

“We’re not moving in with Obi-Wan, Anakin,” Padme says firmly, finally entering the playroom, “I need to live here, and your poor Master doesn’t have space.”

“Oh, come on! It was a good idea,” he sulks, trailing behind his wife, “We already have rooms there anyway.”

“You’re not moving in with me Anakin,” Obi-Wan states, “You need your own space, and time to yourself.”

Whatever Anakin is going to say is promptly forgotten when Leia opens her mouth and says, “Obi.”

They all freeze.

“Did she just-?”

“Oh my Force.”

“Seriously, Obi not da or ma?”

“Obi,” Leia says again, curling up in his lap.

“Obi,” Luke echoes, and Anakin groans dramatically.


“I think you will find, Senator, that the clones have bleed enough for the Republic,” Obi-Wan says sharply, dropping the diplomatic mask.

Senator Hgihis gives him her best smile, “Of course, Ser Jedi, I was only wondering what they will contribute to our great institution, if not their fighting skills.”

Obi-Wan steadies himself, “The Vode have already contributed a great deal to the Republic and will continue to contribute as they see fit. They are unlikely to sit idle. However, I find your assertion that we should only help those who can give us something in return. It is our duty to give what we have in surplus.”

“Of course, Master Kenobi,” she inclines her head, “that is the Jedi’s purview, is it not?”

She does not mean it as a compliment but Obi-Wan takes it as such anyway, “Indeed, Senator Hgihis, the Jedi always do their best to help others. We do not seek recognition. Now, if you’ll excuse me I must find the new Chancellor.”


Sabre watches Obi spare with ‘Soka. Usually, he’d be absorbed in the way they move and the flashing of their blades. Today, he has other things to think about. He’s lived with Cody and Obi for more than a year now. It’s a really long time. Now that the accelerated ageing is gone, it’s like time moves slower.

When he first arrived, Obi and Cody told him he could call them whatever he wanted. And he’d liked that because it gave him options. The problem is, he doesn’t want to call them Cody and Obi anymore. He’s been thinking about it, and he really wants to call them by proper parent names. Cody can be buir, because he’s technically still a brother and Obi… well, Obi is harder. Sabre has no idea where he was born, or what his cultural language is. Master Yoda refused to tell him, and Anakin said he didn’t know. The only person who was any help as Padme, who suggested parent names in Basic. Eventually, he decided to call Obi Papa. Now, he needs to figure out how to tell them.

Auntie Asajj said he should just slip it in, while Uncle Rex suggested he talk to them both about it.

It’s at times like this Sabre wishes he was like Naps, who has copied Luke and Leia and called their parents “da” (it gets confusing). Sabre has to think about these things because he’s older and more mature. Naps is only, like, two.

Sighing, Sabre kicks his legs so they thud rhythmically against the bench, like a heartbeat. If he starts referring to Cody and Obi as buir and papa in his head, maybe it’ll slip out into his speech and he won’t have to make a decision.


Ahsoka loves dinner time. It’s a childish thought, but one she’s decided to indulge. They always have dinner together, all six of them and she loves it. Sometimes Anakin and Padme will join them, or some other Masters or Vode will, but without fail the six of them eat dinner together.

“Stop looking so happy,” Asajj rolls her eyes, “Your smile makes you look crazy.”

Ahsoka makes a face at her and calls, “Master Obi-Wan, Asajj has her feet on the table.”

“Feet off the table, Asajj, you know the rules,” Obi-Wan yells back.

Asajj glares sullenly at Ahsoka, slowly dropping each of her feet to the floor. Ahsoka doesn’t really understand Asajj Ventress, but she does love her. As a sister, even though there was a time when she thought it might be something more. Asajj is too old for her. Riyo though...

“I’m hungry, papa,” Sabre whines.

Ahsoka grins, turning away from Asajj, she wants to see Obi-Wan’s reaction to this.

“It’ll be ready in a minute, Sabre,” he soothes, setting a plate of bread on the table, then freezes as the words register, “Sabre, what-”

Cody sighs and pushes his husband back into the kitchen to get the rest of the food. Sabre preens, self-satisfied. He’s been trying to decide how to do this for days now. Ahsoka was firmly in agreement with Asajj, shock Obi-Wan and Cody with it.

They return from the kitchen with the rest of the food, a thick soup Master Obi-Wan learnt from his own Master. It’s really good.

Cody sets a heat-safe bowl in front of Sabre, who smiles cheerily at him, “Thanks, buir.”

To his credit, Cody only hesitates for a second before saying, “No problem, Sab’ika.”

“Well,” Master Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, though he still looks fairly startled, “Eat up, everyone.”

Ahsoka doesn’t need any more encouragement.

Chapter Text

“What are you doing?”

Anakin throws the mouse droid under the couch before he’s even properly registered the question. Obi-Wan’s voice just does that to him sometimes.

“Uh, nothing?” he tries.

Obi-Wan raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

Anakin sighs, and collects the mouse droid, “I was trying to modify this droid to watch Luke and Leia when me and Padme are out. So we can see them.”

“There is technology that allows you to do that already,” Obi-Wan points out dryly, and yes Anakin did know that thank you very much, “Or you could, and bear with me hear, comm the babysitter.”

“That’s what Padme said,” he frowns, “But I’m bored, Obi-Wan! I love Luke and Leia, but I’ve done nothing for the past year and a half. I can’t even find more ways to upgrade my prosthetic. Padme’s back to work, so I would be busy with the twins but I programmed C3PO as a nanny droid so he takes care of the basic stuff and I need something to fill the time. I have no idea how you’re managing this.”

“I still have a job,” Obi-Wan points out, “Training Ahsoka and, in case you forgot, helping to lead the Jedi Order.”

Anakin groans, flopping back onto the sofa. He’s here, in Obi-Wan’s living room, because Padme is spending quality time with the twins. She said he needed space. Anakin thinks he just needs something to do. He had, in fact, forgotten that Obi-Wan was still a very busy man. Unlike him, people still counted on his cabur.

Obi-wan picks up the abandoned mouse droid, frowning down at it, “I think I have an idea. Go take a nap, you look exhausted.”

When he goes to protest, Obi-Wan silences him with a single arched eyebrow. Damn him.


Obi-Wan sighs loudly for the fifth time in as many minutes and Cody raises an eyebrow, “What are you even doing, cyare? If I’d known you’d hate the show this much, I wouldn’t have made you watch it.”

There’s another loud sigh, and Obi-Wan chucks his datapad onto the coffee table, “I don’t hate the show.”

He shuffles closer to Cody and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. Cody brushes his lips against his cyare’s and whispers, “Don’t distract me.”

Obi-Wan laughs, and pulls back, “I’m trying to figure out how to convince the Council Anakin should be a creche helper.”

“Isn’t he technically still on probation?”

“Yes,” he groans, curling into Cody’s side, “He’s bored, and a bored Anakin is never a good thing. He’s been tinkering. I think he’s installed weapons in his arm. Sooner or later, Luke and Leia are going to need more official instruction in the Force, which they will receive in the creche. Having Anakin work there would solve his boredom and calm his lingering fears about Jedi indoctrination. Besides, if him and Padme plan to have more little ones he needs to get used to small children. Younglings are good for him, anyway. The problem is, the Council is still wary of exposing him to the younglings, considering he nearly helped lead a slaughter of all the Jedi.”

Personally, Cody doesn’t blame them. Skywalker might have grown on him, but he’s still not exactly a big fan of all the things he nearly became. And, unlike his riduur, Cody isn’t willing to forget it so quickly.

Still, Obi-Wan makes valid points.

“You’ll convince them, cyar’ika,” he kisses the mop of soft hair, “Now, watch this show with me. The Jedi just lost his robes. Unlike you, he has the decency to take them all off, and not just the top layer.”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes, but he does watch the next three episodes attentively.


“Here,” Obi-Wan shoves a ‘pad under his nose.

Anakin blinks, going cross-eyed looking at it, “What is this?”

His cabur rolls his eyes and pushes it at him more insistently, “I found something for you to do.”

He takes it carefully and finds it open on an assignment certificate.

Probationary Jedi Knight Skywalker has been assigned to help in the creche on Primeday, Centaxday and Zhellday. He will be required from 1300 hours to 1900 hours.

There are some signatures and rules as well, plus a warning about his conduct. The crechemasters will be monitoring him closely. At the bottom is a note from the Council.

Luke and Leia Naberrie-Skywalker are welcome to start some simple Force classes along with the other crechelings during Knight Skywalkers hours. - The Jedi Council (p.s. We’re watching you, Skywalker - Master Windu.)

A year ago, the addendum would’ve had him steaming, never mind the postscript from Master Windu. Now, Anakin is just thrilled to have something to do. And he doesn’t know enough basics about the Force to teach Luke and Leia everything they need to know. Besides, Padme keeps saying they need to be socialised.

“Is it okay?” Obi-Wan asks, shrouded in his giant cloak, “I didn’t want to presume but I thought it-”

Anakin throws his arms around his cabur, “It’s perfect, Obi-Wan, thank you. I’ll have to talk to Padme about Luke and Leia, but she’ll probably agree. I love you, cabur.”

“I love you too, hibir,” Obi-Wan whispers into his shoulder, so quietly he nearly doesn’t catch it. Obi-Wan is still working on verbalising his feelings, so Anakin doesn’t mind. He just squeezes tighter.


Sabre is getting water when he hears voices in the sitting room. Because he’s meant to be asleep, which means this is an adult conversation, he creeps to the door to eavesdrop. It’s his parents and ‘Soka.

“I’m sorry,” she sounds like she’s crying and Sabre suppresses the desire to go hug her.

Luckily his Papa does it for him, wrapping ‘Soka up in his big, safe arms.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, little one. We all get nightmares sometimes. I’m just glad you felt safe enough to come wake us, mm, and now we can help.”

“Just two nights ago,” his buir adds, “I woke your master by punching him in my sleep. We know how it is.”

“I still have the bruise.”

‘Soka laughs wetly, burying her head in Papa’s shoulder, “Sometimes I feel like the war will never be over. Will we ever leave it behind us, Master? Because I wake up thinking I’m on the Resolute at least once a week, and I haven’t stepped foot on that ship in two years.”

There’s a silence and Sabre wonders if he should be hearing this. No one really talks about the war anymore, even though it’s what they were made for. They answer his questions if he asks, but they never just talk about it. He didn’t realise it still made them all so sad.

“When the war ended,” his Papa says, so quietly Sabre has to strain to hear it, “I said the war would never be over until everyone who fought in it was dead. But that’s not true, Ahsoka, the war is over. That’s the thing about wars, they always end. I’ve fought in three wars now, and they’re all over. It might never truly leave you, but the war is over. And you’ll never have to fight again if you don’t want to.”

They keep talking, into the early morning, but Sabre decides he doesn’t need to hear anymore. He creeps back down the hallway. That night, he dreams of green fields and his parents' warm arms.

Chapter Text

Naps doesn’t remember much about Kamino. He knows it’s where he was created, just like all his brothers. And he knows that they were created for a reason. But Naps has lived in the Jedi Temple with his family for most of his life.

Now that he sees the sterile white corridors, Naps is very very glad. Pa carries him on his hip and Buir has Sabre. But even with his parents shielding presences the entire place makes him feel icky. And it’s cold. He can’t explain it, because he’s still wearing his coat and Pa is warm against him. The whole place just feels cold and bad. He’s glad he doesn’t remember this place.

“Pa,” he whispers, “I don’t like it here.”

Pa presses a kiss to his head, “I’m sorry, sweetpea, we’ll be done really soon and then we can move on to Naboo and see Luke and Leia, okay?”

He pouts, leaning his cheek on pa’s shoulder, “It makes me feel icky, pa. This whole place is ughy. Did Buir really grow up here? And Uncle Rex? They’re too warm to come from here.”

“They are, aren’t they?” Pa sighs, “If you ask your buir after we leave, he’ll tell you about some of it. But right now, we have to talk to some people so we can leave really quickly, okay? I promise it won’t be too much longer.”

“Fineee,” Naps sighs.


“You look terrible, Master,” Anakin greets, smirking. In his arms Luke giggles.

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, “You try travelling with two overexcited younglings for a week and then you can talk. Now let me greet my nephew.”

“Obi!” Luke agrees enthusiastically, wriggling so violently Anakin nearly drops him.

Once his son is safely enclosed in Obi-Wan’s arms, Anakin surveys the rest of the family. Cody looks nearly as tired as his husband, and Naps and Sabre are drooping quite dramatically. They had to make a stopover on Kamino to inspect the facilities and make sure the treaty is being upheld.

Even so, the moment they catch sight of him both boys perk right up.

“Uncle Ani!” they both call, dropping their bags and sprinting at him.

“Hello, my favourite nephews,” he ruffles Sabre’s hair and settles Naps on his hip, “Have you been causing your parents trouble.”

Sabre shakes his head somberly and Naps giggles in a way that says “yes, yes we have”.

“I’ve been really good,” Sabre insists, “I’ve only been in time out twice! Naps was in five times, so really he’s the only one who’s been naughty.”

“I believe you,” Anakin suppresses a smile, “You would never cause any trouble, right Sabre?”

Sabre narrows his eyes at him suspiciously, sensing a trap, “Never is a bold statement, Uncle Ani. And twice isn’t never, it’s just not naughty like Naps. I covered you in paint, ‘member?”

He makes a show of thinking, “Ah, yes, I do remember that.”

“Stop corrupting my children, Skywalker,” Cody says, coming up behind them laden with bags, “And take us to Padme’s lovely country house.”

“Yes, padawan mine,” Obi-Wan drawls, a sleepy Luke in his arms, “Let’s get going.”


At times, Padme wonders if her daughter loves Obi-Wan more than she loves her parents. Other times, she knows she does.

Their relationship is genuinely perplexing. Leia is three years old and yet Obi-Wan understands her like no one else. They seem to communicate on another level, one not even Anakin can understand. When Obi-Wan tells Leia to do something, she does it. When Leia is upset, Obi-Wan sometimes knows even before Luke.

Many Jedi have told Padme that this is because Leia is going to be Obi-Wan’s padawan. Padme just thinks the two of them are too similar.

Leia is curled up in Obi-Wan’s lap, listening to him read. They’ve only just eaten but already her eyes are drooping.

Arms wrap around her from behind, “Adorable, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” she smiles, leaning against her husbands, “They are.”


Master Obi-Wan regards her with serious eyes, and Ahsoka tries not to feel nervous. She’s twenty for Force’s sake! Why does he still have the ability to make her feel like a youngling? They were just supposed to be meditating while the children were still asleep.

“Ahsoka,” he says finally, “Do you feel at home in the Temple?”

“Master?” she questions, frowning.

He waves a hand dismissively, “Just answer the question, little one.”

She sighs. Her master is always so cryptic.

“I do,” she says slowly, “I didn’t in the beginning, but spending time with my crechemates helped a lot, and so did you. And working in the creche has reminded me what the Jedi’s purpose is. I think, for a long time, I felt lost. I didn’t understand what we were doing, or what it meant to be a Jedi. I started my apprenticeship in a warzone, and that affected how I interacted with the Force and the Jedi as a whole. In the years since the war ended, I’ve been able to stop and examine myself and the Force. Now, I feel comfortable in the Temple. It’s my home. I guess, well, I guess I still hold some residual bitterness towards certain Council members for my expulsion but I also understand why they made the decision they did.”

He nods, brow furrowed in thought, “You will make a wonderful Jedi, Ahsoka. You’re no more than two years off from your Trials in terms of skill, but I wanted to discuss it with you. Do you want to continue on this path? Do you need more or less time as a Padawan? What direction do you want to go? You would make a fantastic Guardian, but you are also skilled in Diplomacy. You have a lot of options, my dear, and I want you to be aware of them all. No, don’t tell me now. I want you to think about what you want, meditate on it.”

Ahsoka frowns, “Alright Master. Hey, while we’re talking, have you considered the mindhealer Master Che recommended?”

Her Master gives her a look.

“What? It’s just a question, Master Obi-Wan.”

“He hasn’t,” Cody informs her as he walks past.

“Master,” she scolds, hitting him lightly, “It’s important you take care of yourself.”

He bats her hand away, “I will consider it, I just haven’t had time to sit down and think about it.”

Ahsoka doesn’t believe that for a second, but they’re on holiday so she lets it slide. For now.

Chapter Text

Anakin feels regret. Deep regret. Why did he want to do this? Why did he even suggest this? And why, in Force’s name, do beaches have sand on them?

“It’s getting in my hand, Obi-Wan,” he whines, flopping down next to his master on the blanket. Ugh, there’s sand on here too.

“You were the one who wanted to come to the beach,” Obi-Wan points out dryly, not looking up from his book.

“Yes, well,” he huffs, “I forgot that the beach came with sand. Most of the sand in my life has definitely not been a sign of water. Sand is-”

“Coarse, irritating and gets everywhere?” Obi-Wan finishes, “Yes, we know.”

Anakin pouts, “Obi-Wan it’s on the blanket. The blanket is meant to be a safe place, not more of the sandy hell we find ourselves in. You can’t tell me you like sand.”

“I don’t,” he shrugs, “But nor do I hate it. Honestly, Anakin, will you let me read my book in peace.”

Anakin sighs, lying back on the least sandy bit of blanket. At least the kids are having fun. Naps and Luke and building a sandcastle with Padme, while Cody runs child-friendly self-defence drills with Sabre and Leia. Even Snips looks more relaxed than usual, floating in the water with Ventress. It’s worth it, even if his prothetic is going to be a bitch to clean later.

“Obi!” a call travels across the beach, followed by Leia on her stubby legs, “Uncle Obi, I beat Sabre!”

“Only cos I let her!” Sabre protests, not far behind.

They both collapse right on top of Obi-Wan, who barely manages to get his book out of the way in time. Anakin doesn’t know if he’s jealous, because both the children and still wet from swimming and therefore cold, or relieved, because they’re not exactly light.

“You both did very well,” Obi-Wan manages breathlessly, nudging Sabre until he’s less crushing him and more hugging, “And remember, there’s no shame in losing.”

Anakin’s three-year-old daughter rolls her eyes, “Yeah, we know, Obi.”

Where the hell did she learn to roll her eyes? What has Obi-Wan been teaching his children?

“What, no cuddles for dad?” Anakin asks, interrupting the beginning of an argument between Leia and Sabre.

“No,” Leia says, smiling.

“I’ll cuddle with you Uncle Ani!”

Anakin laughs, pulling the nine-year-old (six-year-old?) into his arms happily, “Thank you Sabre. See Leia, Sabre wants to give me cuddles.”

“Uncle Obi is better,” Leia says firmly, tightening her grip on him, “Sabre agrees, he just gets Uncle Obi more often so he can make sacrifices for me.”

Obi-Wan chokes on a laugh, kissing the top of Leia’s head, “Thank you, my dear.”

Anakin, meanwhile, gasps in mock offence and looks down at the boy in his arms, “That’s not true, is it Sabre? You just like cuddles with Uncle Ani.”

Sabre giggles, “No, it’s true. I get Papa all the time, Leia has to have him now. It’s only fair.”

“Betrayed!” Anakin collapses back dramatically, “By my own nephew!”

Obi-Wan sprinkles sand all over his prone form.


It’s not that Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why he needs to see a mindhealer, it’s just that he’s, well, he’s scared. Or maybe scared isn’t the right word.

Obi-Wan is very aware that he has a lot of trauma. He’s been collecting it since he was in the creche. From Bruck, to Bandomeer, to Melida/Daan, and then New Aposolon and Naboo and the war. He knows he should talk about it, all of it. But he wouldn’t even know where to start. And wouldn’t talking about it bring all the trauma back up to the surface? Wouldn’t that make everything worse?

However, he knows he has to at least try. Because Ahsoka doesn’t need to worry about him and he keeps waking Cody up in the night. They’re both cornered him now, and he knows they just want the best for him. So he’ll go, at least once.


Cody waits with him outside the mindhealers offices. Obi-Wan isn’t nervous, he’s just… apprehensive. Yes, apprehensive.

“Master Kenobi?” Master Fosruh calls, “I’m ready for you.”

Obi-Wan swallows thickly and stands. Okay, maybe he’s a bit nervous.

“Hey,” Cody catches his hand, “I’m proud of you. You’ve got this.”

He gives his hand a comforting squeeze and then lets go. Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. He’s got this.

The office is much nicer than he was expecting. There’s a basket of toys in the corner and a very comfy looking couch. It’s all reds and browns and earth tones. The windows let natural light flood the room and a wind chime tinkles in the corner. An abstract painting in blues and greens hangs on one wall.

Master Fosruh smiles at him, “Hello, Obi-Wan. Would you like to sit on the couch? Or the chair? Or, if you want, the floor?”

“Uh,” he takes another deep breath, “The couch is good.”

She settles on the opposite end of the couch from him, relaxed and open in a way Obi-Wan really isn’t.

“You can call me Rbiah if you want, or Master Fosruh if that makes you more comfortable. Have you ever seen a mindhealer before?”

He nods stiffly, “When I was first brought to the Temple, I saw Master Gisibi for a year.”

Rbiah hums, “And why was that?”

“Uh, my parents were trying to sell me when the Jedi interrupted the deal. I believe that was considered to be a rather traumatising ordeal. I don’t really remember much.”

“Still, not a very fun start, was it?” she says.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, laughing slightly, “No, not exactly.”

She smiles, “As I’m sure you’re aware, the life of a Jedi itself can be hard and lead to some amount of trauma even without the war. So, why don’t we start at the beginning? What was your first mission?”


Ahsoka finds herself in meditation often these days. She’s trying to find a way forwards, trying to decide what she wants. Master Obi-Wan hasn’t asked her again and she’s glad, because she doesn’t know the answer.

Fighting is what she’s best at, battle tactics and war strategies. But it’s not what she wants. Ahsoka, when she really lets herself think about it, wants peace. She wants to guide others. She wants to help others, not by fighting for them but by teaching them. By reaching out and helping them up.


“Are you sure?” Master Che crosses her arms, “You are a phenomenal fighter, Ahsoka.”

“This is what I want,” she states firmly, “And Master Obi-Wan wants me to do what I want. I’m still going to work towards knighthood, Master, I’m not ready to leave my Masters side yet. But I want to help, I want to work at the clinics.”

Master Che studies her for a few moments, sharp eyes taking in who knows what. Ahsoka isn’t worried, not really, she's telling the truth.

“Alright,” she says finally, “I’ll have to talk to your Master first though.”

Ahsoka grins, “Thank you, Master.”


Naps’ room in purple, with a miniature version of the Mandalore solar system hanging from his ceiling. He chose the decorations himself. There’s a fish tank in the corner, and he likes to sit and watch it.

Luke does too. But when Luke does it, it almost seems like he’s meditating. He goes all still and calm just like Auntie Soka and Papa do. Sometimes, Naps even thinks he’s talking to the fish.

Today, Luke is so still and quiet that Naps is afraid to breathe too loud in case it disturbs him. He reads books on his beanbag and makes sure no one disturbs them. He even writes a sign and puts it on the door! He’s only just learning to write, so he had to get Auntie Asajj to help him but he did it!

Buir sticks his head around the door and signs, “Food.”

Naps shakes his head and points at Luke, “He’s with the fish, Buir.”

His buir sighs and enters the room fully. He kneels down next to Luke and somehow manages to bring him back to reality. Probably just by telling him there’s food. Luke likes food.

Chapter Text

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.”


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.”