Ahsoka snarls, swords held out defensively. “I should’ve known this would happen,” she growls, not taking her eyes off of her opponent. “There were so many warnings… of course you’d fall to the dark side. All of the weak ones do.”
Hidden behind the darkness of his cloak, her adversary laughs menacingly. “You call me weak? I’m more powerful than I’ve ever been!”
Ahsoka scoffs. “That’s what every Sith Lord says—right before they lose!”
“I will never lose. The Force is on my side!” He points his saber at her. “Prepare to die, Jedi!” With those words, he lunges at her, slashing at her middle. She executes an elegant backflip, landing just out of his reach. But he is his father’s son, and continues to pursue her. She dodges and blocks every attack, but is too slow to guard herself against the slice to her legs. Letting out a cry of agony, Ahsoka falls to her knees. Her eyes snap up to her attacker as he holds his saber to her throat. “Tell me where she is, and your death will be quick.”
She smirks at him. “Make it as slow as you want, Sith. You’ll never find the princess.”
“You Jedi are strong,” he commends her. “But are you strong enough to survive this?” He pulls his arm back, bringing it down towards her shoulders. At the last second, she jumps, leaping above the saber, and rips it from his grasp as she flips over his head. “Hey!”
She lands delicately on her toes, lightly dropping to her heels. Holstering one of her swords, she admires her new weapon with a smug grin. “Nice sword.”
Agitation writes itself across the Sith Lord’s face, and he stomps his foot impatiently. “Jedi don’t steal. It’s not fair!”
Ahsoka raises an eye-marking at him. “I'm not a Jedi. And what kind of Jedi would play fair in a fight against a Sit—eep!” She squeals loudly, jumping several inches into the air as two fingers dig into her sides. She whirls around, huffing at the amused face of her former Master. “Anakin!” She shoves him, causing him to stumble back as he guffaws.
“What kind of Jedi doesn’t notice someone sneaking up on them,” he laughs, before looking to her assailant. “Luke, are you losing?”
Luke pulls his hood down, pouting at his dad. “Soka cheated!”
“I did not!”
“Uh huh! She stole my ’saber, Daddy!”
Anakin puts on his Very Serious Face, giving Ahsoka an admonishing look. “You can’t steal his ’saber, Ahsoka. That’s not the Jedi w— wait, is he a Sith?”
Ahsoka winces. “…He called dibs?”
Leia chooses that moment to enter, and Anakin blinks in surprise. She wears one of her fancier dresses, with a mini tiara on her head. Ahsoka has no idea where the tiara came from, but she’s willing to bet Anakin bought it for her. “Luke, are you losing?”
“Why is everyone picking on meeee,” Luke whines.
Leia rolls her eyes sharply. She’s only four, and a genuinely kind girl, but when she does things like that, it always stings. (Her mother’s genes. Definitely her mother’s.) “Did you forget what we talked about?”
“What are you—oh, yeah.” With a battle cry, he launches himself at Ahsoka, taking her by surprise. The two of them tumble to the ground, Ahsoka wrapping her arms around him to shield him from the worst of the fall. The landing is softer than it should’ve been, and she realizes Anakin must’ve cushioned it with the Force. Still healing, she remembers. Right. She lands on her back, Luke held protectively to her stomach. He laughs victoriously, wiggling out of her arms, and takes a seat on her tummy. “I win! Now, the princess is my prisoner!”
Ahsoka looks over to Leia, betrayal etched in her expression. “You conspired with the enemy? After I put my life on the line to protect you?”
Leia shrugs. “The Force is neutral, and so am I. I just wanted to see if that would work on you.” She tips her head curiously at the Togruta. “How did you even survive the war, Soka?”
Ahsoka thinks about it, choosing not to be offended by the blatant insult. “This is usually the part where Rex decides to stop punishing me for running ahead, and save me.”
“Daddy says you should never wait for anyone to save you,” Leia states firmly. After a slight pause, she adds, “Unless you’re waiting on him.”
“Exactly,” Anakin agrees, smiling adoringly at his daughter. “Unfortunately, Ahsoka’s never been too good at waiting.”
“Or taking orders, or following orders, or depending on others…” Ahsoka lists off.
Anakin looks over at her, his grin widening. “Have we had this conversation before, Snips,” he teases.
“Once or twice.” Ahsoka glares playfully at him. “And I could never wait on you. Waiting on you would get me killed!”
“I have better timing than that!”
“Are you sure?” She turns her gaze to the four year old on her stomach. “And how long do you plan on sitting on me?”
Luke blinks innocently at her. “Just for a few more seconds.”
Ahsoka’s eyes narrow suspiciously at him. “Why?”
“So Leia can attack Daddy.”
“Wh— hey!” Anakin cries out as the makeshift lightsaber (made of wood and metal, totally child proof) pierces his side. He dramatically falls to one knee, a hand covering his wound. “Leia, how could you?”
Leia smiles sweetly at him. “Steps to taking over the world,” she recites. “One, become royalty. Two, make lots of friends in high places. Three, be an icon for the good guys. Four, conspire with the bad guys. Five, take down the leaders of the good and the bad guys. Six, pick a throne.”
Anakin chokes, and Ahsoka suddenly feels the need to cry. Force, she swears, giving her former Master a look that she hopes accurately conveys her displeasure. Skyguy, you raised another Palpatine. Good job!
Anakin throws a glare at her, as if to say, It’s not my fault! It’s her mother’s blood, I swear.
“Wait,” Luke interrupts, oblivious to the silent conversation taking place. “Does that mean you were about to kill me, Leia?”
Leia simply raises her sabers — when did she get two? — and charges at him, only to be pulled back by Anakin. “You won’t kill my son!” He lifts the squealing girl into the air, and brings his own body softly crashing to the ground with her in his arms. Luke tries to get to his father’s side, but Ahsoka holds him back, viciously tickling him.
“Sometimes,” a woman’s voice speaks from the direction of the door, “I like to delude myself into thinking I only have two children. Then I remember the others.”
Anakin and Ahsoka turn to each other. “She’s talking about you!”
Obi-Wan has no idea how he let himself get talked into this. He’s sure that he was adamantly against this whole thing not too long ago. Taking in a domesticated animal is one thing. It isn’t a wise thing, but it’s something he could accept. But this? Taking in a creature that is historically dangerous (and not even remotely endangered, this time) and likely to kill them all?
Frankly, it’s a stupid decision.
He explicitly told Anakin that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the creature, and he would not hesitate to disembowel it if it attacked him. Anakin had just smirked and told him that he wouldn’t dare.
Obi-Wan briefly wonders how his apprentice has such nerve. Then he remembers two sets of bright eyes and tugging hands, and, “Please, Uncle Ben, please?” Letting out a long suffering sigh, Obi-Wan relaxes on the couch, Leia curled against him on one side, and the wolf humming itself to sleep on the other.
“You know,” Ahsoka drawls, swiping food off of Anakin’s plate. She does it on purpose, because she knows how much his food means to him. She’s just a bully. “Eventually, you’re going to have to tell your kids that you’re fucking their uncle.”
All the Jedi training in the world couldn’t have kept Anakin from choking on his food. Tears rush to his eyes, and his body shakes from the force of his coughs. Ahsoka pats him on the back, rather unhelpfully, and watches with an expression of amusement and repentance. “First of all,” he wheezes. “Language. Force, what if Obi-Wan heard you? Do you know how much trouble we would be in?”
“I’m twenty-five years old.”
“Do you think he cares? And second,” he continues, pulling his food out of her reach. “What are you even talking about? Do you know how weird that sounded?”
Ahsoka sends him a no-nonsense stare. “You know what I’m talking about. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. They think Obi-Wan’s that really cool uncle who comes around every day because he loves them so much. In reality, he comes around every day because he loves your—”
“Okay, thank you,” he interrupts with wide eyes. This is why Obi-Wan wants to wash her mouth out with soap, and Anakin is only kind of sure that it’s his fault. “I’m so glad to know your senses are as sharp as ever.”
“I was going to say bed,” Ahsoka says innocently, fooling absolutely no one. “And I don’t need my senses to know what you two get up to when I’m not around.”
He blanches. For a horrifying second, he thinks that she could feel his pleasure through their bond, and he’s considering running himself through his lightsaber. Slicing off his own head would be better than having to deal the ramifications of that particular situation. In fact, he’s thinking about cutting his head off regardless, if only to forget this earth shattering conversation. He might actually literally die from embarrassment, anyway.
“You two act like a married couple all the time,” Ahsoka continues, oblivious to the destruction she’s wrought on his psyche. “I’ve seen this coming since the second I saw you two. No Jedi have ever stood as close as you two do. We don’t even stand that close, and I’m attached to your hip. Plus, you couldn’t hide a relationship if you really wanted to. How do you think I found out about Padmé? You couldn’t be more obvious, if you tried.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so attacked in my entire life. And I’m a war veteran.”
“Which brings me back to my original point,” Ahsoka surmises. “Your children are eventually going to figure out that Obi-Wan isn’t your brother, at all, and they’ll need extensive therapy as they try to wrap their minds around your weird as hell relationship.”
Anakin stares. He doesn’t know who raised this child (other than him, Padmé, and Obi-Wan, they cannot be blamed for this), but they did a terrible job. She turned out horrible. “My kids are nine years old,” he starts. “They know nothing about sex—you should know nothing about sex, there is a reason I avoided giving you the Talk.”
“Unlike you, Padmé and Obi-Wan are actually good people, and they made sure I was informed after my fifteenth birthday.”
Anakin is going to have a Serious Talk with them when this is over, because what kind of unit are they, if they don’t even consult him on when to give the kids important talks? He should’ve been a part of that discussion, and holy shit, fifteen is so young. She was just a baby. And, “Second, I never explicitly called him Uncle Ben. They did that to themselves.”
“Don’t blame your bad parenting on those children, Skyguy, please.”
“And when my kids do find out about what Obi-Wan and I are getting up to— not that we are—”
“We will clearly and patiently explain things to them,” he decides. “And pay for any therapy they may need.” He smiles, proud of his foolproof plan. And she says he’s a bad parent.
Ahsoka nods. “And I’m going to sit back and laugh when you fail.”
He honestly deserves so much better than this.
“Oh my gooosh,” Luke whines, dragging out the last word. It goes on for at least five seconds as he slumps himself over the kitchen table, taking his head in his hands. Ahsoka glances up briefly, before looking back down to the card game she’s playing with Leia. Obi-Wan and Padmé don’t even startle at the sound of his cry, only continue to talk over the cookbook held between them.
Han, on the other hand — not yet used to the melodrama that is the Skywalker family — has a mini-fucking heart attack. His eyes widen to the size of saucers, and he stares at his friend in panic. His eyes swivel across the room to the other inhabitants. “What—what is this? Is this—is this a teenage thing? Hormones?”
“No,” Padmé responds distractedly. “That’s his father’s side.”
“The falling out, the drama, the violins playing in the background…” Ahsoka lays another card on the table. “He gets it all from Anakin.”
Obi-Wan glances over at Luke, then back down to the cookbook. “You learn to ignore it.”
Obi-Wan can count on one hand the amount of times he’s walked into Anakin’s house to the sound of silence. He doesn’t even need hands to count how many times it’s happened in the past eighteen months. With two erratic twins, Anakin, and Ahsoka always running around (as if the latter two aren’t enough), the home is always filled with laughter, and maybe even a little bit of crying. It is never quiet, and certainly never this quiet.
Obi-Wan would be concerned, if he couldn’t feel the absolute tranquility coming from the occupants. He detects five Force signatures, from Leia’s soft presence, up to Anakin’s barely tame one. He releases tension he hadn’t been aware of, and wanders into the living room. He’d like to say that he’s surprised, and maybe a bit agitated at the scene that he walks into. Really, he is neither.
There are four bodies piled together on the floor, all sound asleep. Anakin lies on his back, his right arm thrown over his eyes, while his left arm acts as Ahsoka’s pillow. She’s curled up on his side, unusually blissful, even though her lightsabers are nowhere to be found. Luke lies in the slit between Anakin and Ahsoka’s bodies, hands fisted in Ahsoka’s shirt, with his back pressed to Anakin’s side. Leia sleeps soundly on her father’s torso, her head pillowed on his chest and fingers curled around the fabric of his tunic. A slight glance to the right shows Padmé resting on the couch, her legs pulled up onto the seat. Even in sleep, she looks absolutely exhausted.
And cold. They all look cold.
With a weary sigh, Obi-Wan walks past the group, and towards the bedrooms. He pulls the comforter off of Anakin’s bed, then goes to grab the one off of Luke’s. He heads back into the living one, and drapes the larger of the two blankets over the group on the floor. It’s a bit difficult to situate it. Too high, and Luke gets suffocated; too low, and everything above Ahsoka’s knees is left exposed. He sets down the blanket meant for Padmé, and carefully repositions Luke. The young boy curls into his hold momentarily, and quickly reattaches himself to Ahsoka once he’s set down again. The girls shift at the feeling of the quilt being placed over them. Leia coos, turning her head several times before she settles down again, and Ahsoka stirs momentarily, before moving closer to Anakin.
Once they’re properly covered, he takes Luke’s blanket and places it over Padmé. Unlike the others, she actually wakes up. “Obi-Wan,” she mutters, lifting her head. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I didn’t think it was necessary to wake you.” He keeps his voice low, lest he wake the others. The twins take after Anakin when it comes to sleep: they’re either incredibly light sleepers, or tragically deep, depending on the day. There is no middle ground with them, and it’s nothing more than a pain in Obi-Wan’s hide. “It’s been a while since you’ve rested like this.”
“Why do you think we’re doing it,” she laughs quietly. “Anakin and Ahsoka wore the kids out — and themselves, apparently. They all just fell asleep like that, and I didn’t want to wake them. We don’t have anything to do today, so…”
He shakes his head. “A wise decision. Anakin is insufferable on his best days. Even more so when he’s tired.”
Padmé grins. “That’s what I said.” She pulls herself up, creating room on the couch. “You’re already here. You might as well join us.”
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin mumbles from the floor, not nearly as asleep as Obi-Wan assumed. Of course not. “There are some battles you just can’t win.”
“Obi-Wan, go to sleep.”
Given Anakin’s words, doubled with Padmé’s stern look, Obi-Wan knows when a fight is lost. He takes a seat on the couch, placing Padmé’s ankles in his lap. Just two years ago, he would’ve never done such a thing. But he’d done and seen far worse since the day Anakin announced her pregnancy. They’re comfortable enough with each other to pay little attention to such contact, though it would be seen as indecent with any other woman. With a smug smile, Padmé lets her head fall back again, eyes slipping shut. In less than two minutes, she’s asleep. A reach into Anakin’s consciousness shows that he’s fallen back to sleep as well.
And Obi-Wan swears he doesn’t fall asleep. The war might not be a concern anymore, but there are still Separatists, and still people who would wish to do harm to this family. Someone has to stay on watch, or else the family will be completely vulnerable. If anyone attacks, they’re all done for, and he can’t let that happen. He keeps his lightsaber at his side, and he blinks. Really, that’s all he does.
He just doesn't open his eyes for a while.
There is a reason Padmé doesn’t tell Anakin when things go wrong. And they do — often. She was once a queen, and is now a senator; she knows, more than anyone, how dangerous politics can be. And ever since getting involved with Anakin Skywalker, she’s found herself in trouble, more often than not. On top of that, they're still rebuilding the Senate, trying to figure out who to trust and who to incarcerate. Ever since the fall of Palpatine all of those years ago, her safety has been more relative than ever. And she’s accepted the dangerous part of her job. Unlike Anakin and Ahsoka, she doesn’t live for it, but she’s — okay with it.
Her family, however, is not.
She can accept needing a bodyguard for every meeting and negotiation she goes to. It’s only smart to take precautions. And now that they’re finally past the point where Anakin and/or Ahsoka accompanies her, she feels less suffocated, and more willing to take a few hits. With Anakin around, a shot coming anywhere near her is likely to result in someone’s untimely demise. And while Ahsoka is marginally better, she can still manage to land someone in a bacta tank for weeks on end, if she puts her mind to it. (Usually, she does.)
Obi-Wan is much calmer, thankfully. The part of the Jedi Code about not overreacting to every little thing actually registered in his mind, she thinks, because she’s yet to see him lose his head over anything that didn’t border on certain death. And even then, he's been rather level-headed. She’s seen him get angry, but not the way that Anakin tends to. And Obi-Wan’s anger fades in a matter of minutes, which is more than can be said for the others. As far as she can tell, Han is of a similar mindset. His calm demeanor, she assumes, has less to do with Jedi training, and a lot more to do with him being a genuinely sane person.
The twins… take after their father.
So, really, she isn’t terribly surprised when she wakes up in the medbay after an attack, to find four vaguely murderous Force-sensitives, an exasperated Obi-Wan, and a mildly impressed Han Solo standing around the room. “I’m fine,” she swears, before they can say anything. “The bacta did its job. Honestly, I’m fine.”
Leia clasps her hands behind her back and smiles, nice and innocent. “We know you are, Mother.”
“Your assailant,” Obi-Wan sighs, “isn’t.”
She immediately looks to Anakin and Ahsoka, who suddenly find the ceiling to be very interesting. “What did you do?” It’s not like she’s all that concerned for the man; he did try to kill her. But he was still once a respected member of the Senate, and if they killed him, there will be so much paperwork.
“Nothing he won’t recover from,” Anakin promises.
Ahsoka smirks a little. “In time.”
She turns her gaze to Luke. Her sweet, innocent, actual ball of sunshine child, who has never once disappointed her. Her more dramatic but decidedly less brutal offspring. One of the three people in this room she trusts to think twice before committing a serious crime. The only one who cares how much paperwork she’ll have to fill out if they kill a fellow senator in her defense. “What did they do?”
“Taught him a lesson,” her favorite son declares, all too proud of himself. “We can’t have him thinking it’s okay to mess with the Skywalker clan. Someone might try to follow his example.”
Anakin, Ahsoka, and Han are such terrible influences. She should've just let Luke spend more time with Yoda when he was a child. He'd be extremely cryptic, and an even bigger headache than his father, but at least he wouldn't be a criminal.
“Just tell me he isn’t dead,” she begs.
Obi-Wan’s brows furrow. “Honestly, Padmé, I’m offended. I would never let them so recklessly kill someone.”
She lets out a relieved sigh, because of co—
“Unless he deserves it.”
Force, help her.