A Problem Shared is a Problem Halved
Pairing: Padmé/Obi-Wan and background Padmé/Anakin
Rating: gen (+ no major warnings)
A/N: written for Day 5 (Jan 3) of Celebrate Star Wars Week (run by @star-wars-is-star-wars), although I published a few hours early. The theme for Day 5 is AUs, so I went with a genderbent AU. And this is my first fic of 2019, which is cool!
Obi-Wan had always disliked the Senate building, with its oppressive atmosphere and self-important decor. At the best of times, it was inhospitable; at the worst, it was like walking into a pit of vipers.
Nonetheless, she had been ordered to advise some subcommittee on the state of morale amongst the troops, so she was there. The Senate wasn’t in session at that moment, but the corridors were busy with politicians and civil servants hurrying this way and that. At least she was ahead of schedule and didn’t have to run.
Rounding a corner, she caught sight of Senator Amidala, resplendent in a royal blue ankle-length tunic and a matching cloak. Obi-Wan always felt a surge of protectiveness for the young man, given their history and knowing how much Anakin loved him.
They came face-to-face in the middle of the corridor, Amidala dismissing his attendant with a discreet whisper. That left them with a small bubble of privacy — a rare thing for both of them.
“Senator Amidala.” Obi-Wan dipped her head in greeting.
“Master Kenobi.” He responded with a respectful nod. “You know, we’ve known each other long enough that you can call me ‘Padmeon.’”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “I distinctly remember being told not to call you that.”
The fabric of his formal garb was too heavy to shrug comfortably, so he settled for an amusedly dismissive tilt of his head. “I was younger. I didn’t like my name.”
Younger. Weren’t we all? Obi-Wan mused, reflective. Those were simpler times.
Outwardly, she acknowledged his statement placidly. “Hm.”
“Anyway, I’m glad to see you, Obi-Wan. There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”
“Oh? Nothing’s the matter, I hope?”
Sensing that the man may not want his words to be overheard, Obi-Wan ushered him into a discreet alcove, the kind used for dubious political scheming. The space was large enough that they could stand without touching, but small enough that a murmur was all that was required to converse.
“Unfortunately…” he took a steadying breath. “I should apologise in advance for being too forward. This is a very personal matter and I hope that I won’t make you uncomfortable.”
She found herself increasingly confused — and concerned. “If there’s something you need to discuss, I’m more than open to it. I’m sure it can’t make me that uncomfortable.”
Padmeon paused, steeling himself. “You know that Anakin and I are married,” he asserted.
“Yes.” Obi-Wan smiled affectionately, with no small measure of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to fake ignorance any longer. “It would be impossible to not know. You’re never far from her thoughts.”
A small smile of pleasure, fondness, pride. Quickly supplanted by the man’s obvious concern.
“You’re so close to him — that’s why this is so important.” He glanced down, uncomfortable. “My love for Anakin is absolute, don’t doubt that.”
“I never would. Even if I couldn’t feel the strength of your bond, I can see it in your eyes,” she replied, seriously and earnestly.
At her words, Padmeon met her gaze again.
“Obi-Wan,” Padmeon said, grasping her arm. There was an unintentional accusatory edge to his voice. “I don’t understand. I feel drawn to you, somehow. It’s confusing.”
Obi-Wan gently detached Padmeon from her arm. “You and Anakin are connected in the Force,” she began carefully. A suspicion that he’d had for months surfaced. “Anakin and I also share a close bond. It’s possible that the two are… leaking into one another.”
“‘Leaking,’” he echoed, sounding unsure. “And why would it do that?”
Hesitantly, Obi-Wan continued. “The dark side of the Force has always had a draw for Anakin, perhaps because she started training later than most. She’s strong, she resists it, but the war is taking its toll. It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s hard for her to withstand, at times.”
“She’s been different lately,” Padmeon replied in a low voice, reluctant to voice his fears. “She seems angrier. And she has nightmares almost every night.”
“I know,” she said, with a touch of sadness.
“I feel helpless. I want to do something, but…” he trailed off.
Obi-Wan felt a wave of sympathy. Lacking the confident veneer of Senator Amidala, Padmeon looked like what he was: a young man, lost, trying to do what was right. “It’s not your fault, believe me. This is beyond your control; yours and mine and Anakin’s. If times were different, the healers at the Temple would be able to do something, but this is beyond us,” she said firmly.
A pensive silence held for several seconds, before Padmeon broke it.
“You know, even without the Force and bonds and all of that… when I first knew you, I was utterly enamoured with you,” he confessed with a smile, thinking back to their time on Tatooine — an incredibly stressful, frightening time, but also one of freedom and a childish sense of adventure. “I think Anakin was, too, when she was a little older. And when the two of you came back into my life — my heartstrings had no idea that they could be pulled in different directions so strongly!”
“Well, I-” Obi-Wan was at a total loss as to how she should respond. She ignored the inexplicable pang in her chest. “The Jedi Code-”
Padmeon waved that away, a hint of distate slipping onto her face. “Trust me, I’m aware of what the Jedi Code says about love.”
Realising her mistake, Obi-Wan rushed to rectify the sourness. “Of course, the Code is open to interpretation. My own Master,” he paused momentarily, thinking fondly of Qui-Gon. “Broke the Code often enough. He always told me to prioritise justice and mercy over the rules — that the spirit of the Code was what mattered, not the letters of the law.”
Padmeon didn’t resist the change in subject. “I didn’t really know him, but that seems about right. He was willing to train Anakin, even knowing that the Council would object.”
“That was Qui-Gon all over. I only wish that I’d had longer with him. He was full of emotion, unlike most Jedi — I never understood why and how, and I wish I had. It would’ve helped with Anakin.”
“There was nothing you should’ve done differently,” Padmeon reassured her.
“I only wish that were true.” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure there would ever be a day when she didn’t look back and regret one thing or another. She shook herself out of that train of thought. “Padmeon, I’m relieved that we’ve had this conversation. Please, if you ever want to talk, don’t hesitate.”
She was unwilling to end such a personal interaction in such an abrupt manner, but she had no choice. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. It’s a Senate subcommittee and I really can’t keep them waiting.”
Padmeon, accustomed to the demands of the world of politics, nodded in understanding. “Of course. I hope I haven’t delayed you too much.”
Obi-Wan was seized by an instinct that she couldn’t quite explain; she leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss on his cheek. It was a simple gesture in many cultures, one of pure courtesy, but it was uncommonly intimate for a Jedi.
Once she’d moved away again, she cleared her throat self-consciously. “It’s no problem.”
Padmeon had a brilliant smile, she now noticed — sweet and radiant. “Good luck with your committee.”
They parted there, amicable. Before Obi-Wan had taken more than five steps, however, she heard someone say her name. She turned. Padmeon had yet to leave their little nook.
He kept his voice down, careful to avoid being overheard. “Now that you know — officially — about our marriage, will you have dinner with us sometime?”
Though she would never admit it, her heart lifted at the prospect. “It would be my pleasure.”
