abraxaslogs | [OPEN] The truth is often what we make of it

[ He's tempted to reach out with his hand, through the Force, and find some point of connection to settle Anakin-

No. At this point it'd be making contact to settle himself. So much of this world being strange isn't that unfamiliar, many planets have strange governments and customs, systems that are entirely foreign to him but...someone he knows as well as he knows himself- or someone he thought he'd known that well suddenly standing in front of him and decrying him for actions he has not yet taken, but will?

For Anakin of all people to look at him with such distrust, such loathing?

As he cannot reach out, Obi-Wan's arms go around his own ribs instead, a self soothing gesture he hasn't made use of in...he's forgotten how long. ]

You've grown your hair out, for one. [ Because coping with the obvious and remarking upon it is easier than everything he does not know. ]

And you're not grey yet. [ Of course he's not, because the stresses of war haven't waged to harshly on him. Or the stresses of his former Padawan or his grandpadawan.

Ahsoka... Blast, he doesn't even know about her, and that pang of longingsadnesshomesickness passes briefly along their bond before he can help himself. ]

I'm not going to tell you everything. [ It sounds petulant, even to himself, but there are some things he's not ready to talk about yet. Maybe he never will unless he gets confronted about it. ]

I know I always joked about it, but I think the war may have more to do with that than you.

[ Anakin was stressful, yes, but no more or no less than Qui-Gon had been. They had their issues but- he'd grown into a knight Obi-Wan was proud of. What could possibly change that?

Worry and anxiety spiral in him for a moment before he breathes, releasing it into the Force. What will be isn't his concern at the moment, nor what was for Anakin, merely what is, right now. ]

I'm...not going to ask- or rather I do not intend to ask; but you seem deeply troubled. [ Perhaps it is the time in the Pit at fault but...he doesn't think that's the case. ]

Don't take away credit where it's due. We did our fair share of it.

[ He doesn't mean to say 'we', but it's something he doesn't even think about before it's out of his mouth. The kind of quip that's too second nature. And Force does he miss her in the best and worst of times. ]

You didn't exactly show up at the best time. Not that I even expected anyone to show up- you least of all.

[ He can't help but note that 'we', but the following ache is so intense it's likely best to let it lie until they're both less emotional. Obi-Wan tilts his head in the direction of the gazebo. Perhaps a bit of tea might ease the tension, here? ]

I'll...wonder about that without answers, I suppose. Would you care for tea, or caf? I've both in the gazebo.

[ There's also fruit, and if half of them happen to be Anakin's favorites- that's pure habit at this point. ]

[ He shrugs. ] Everyone is a little tense after everything that happened.

[ Oh.. It's such a simple gesture that always made him feel good despite how he always grumbled that he didn't like tea. He should say no. He should just leave and let him stew and wonder where he went wrong along the way, but Anakin finds himself nodding anyway.

He's tired down to his bones. Normally, he'd go for caf with a little bit of cream, but he doesn't need the burst of extra energy. Caf, they call it coffee here, is different and doesn't do as good of a job in Anakin's opinion.

He shuffles in the direction of the gazebo and stares at the bowl of fruit, some of his favorites among the mix. He floats a star fruit out of the bowl and into his hand before he sits down. ]

I've heard from a few of the summoned in the Free Cities as they've recovered. Not much in great detail but- enough. [ enough to worry. Enough to fuss, in his own way, by preparing a pot of tea in a blend he knows Anakin prefers, as much as he's ever preferred tea. Something that smells of the temple, of their shared quarters, of home.

The ritual of measuring and steeping settles some of the disquiet in Obi-Wan's spirit, allowing him a moment to reflect on the differences-

And how much they matter.

Nothing of what happened back home can be changed. Anakin has endured what he has endured and Obi-Wan has yet to learn of his mistakes. All he can do, here and now, is attempt to be supportive. Kind.

To be the Master Anakin deserves. ]

There's a knife, somewhere, if you'd like that sliced.

I've been through worse, but nothing for that long.

[ Campaigns could go on a long time, sure, but there were always enough supplies and sleep could be taken in bigger shifts. In the pit? It never felt like he got enough sleep and their food and water supplies were always meager. Everyone ate enough to keep going, but it reminded him of his childhood too much for his liking.

He doesn't want to think about the ritual they all went through that those that weren't Summoned didn't come back from. He felt the anger that followed crawling under his skin like a living thing. How more than once, he'd taken a swing at somebody he's never had a problem with before. ]

I don't.

[ The response is immediate, his tone irritated. Anakin's brow furrows as he watches Obi-Wan across from him, trying to figure out what his angle is. He knows what's being offered and it makes him feel uneasy. Maybe because he knows his bond with Obi-Wan is almost non-existent and hanging on by a thread, though not on the other side.

He's at a loss for how to proceed. That betrayal sits in the back of his mind, slight after slight playing like a holofilm while Obi-Wan does something as mundane as serve them both tea. Something he'd done hundreds of times before.

Perhaps it's the thought that he's essentially sitting inside the corpse of something that used to be. He stands abruptly, shaking his head. ]

I don't have to sit here while you screw with my head! I'm leaving.

Anakin- [ He starts with the same exasperation as ever but-

Perhaps that is what weighs so ill on the boy- the man's shoulders? He thought he'd made himself understood but with the tensions of war hanging overhead, the horrors he must have endured...

He can make an effort. As Anakin's Master, he should make an effort. ]

Ani.

[ Softer, gentler. ]

You need not tell me what happened or...what is to come. You needn't say anything at all if you don't want to. I know I've pushed you over the years to explain yourself- perhaps too much. [ Definitely too much. ] Please. Stay for tea. Indulge your old master for a moment more and...if my being here distresses you so, I shan't bother you again.

[ He's taken a few long strides toward the exit when that nickname makes him stop in his tracks. How long had it been since anyone's called him that? It makes his chest tighten and his fists clench at his sides.

As much as he wants to just explode at Obi-Wan and tell him just what he'll do, Anakin stands there and listens, his head bowed. His Master's apology- especially over how he'd been pushed in his younger years resonates this time. Granted, he's heard it before, but this time feels different.

He sighs wearily, turning back around and taking his seat again. Anakin may not be wearing a cloak, but he feels the same urge to wrap himself up and shield away from it all. A defense mechanism, but one that's suited him well in the past. Instead, he picks at the sleeve of his robes as he waits for tea.

If only Obi-Wan knew how badly he wanted to tell him everything.. but he can't do that to him. Won't, either, because he's nothing if not selfish. ]

My being in distress isn't your burden.

[ The tea steeps and Obi-Wan waits. Quietly and without expectation, uncertain how to read this familiar and yet not young man. It is as though a language with which he is fluent has been scrambled- translated and translated again, as though a new slant to letters adds an entire new layer of meaning. What was once clear as kyber is now muddled, though by time, distance, age or trauma, he is not sure.

Anakin has changed in their time apart- distanced by years yet lived in their own galaxy, and time here. It has been...good for him, perhaps, to be away from the pressures of the war, of the Order. Pressures Obi-Wan tried to protect him from.

Clearly, he's failed.

Huffing quietly, he pours, eyes flicking down to their mugs. For most the cups are nothing more than plain ceramic but something (habit) has the set here the same as those back in his quarters when first training Anakin. ]

For years, your discomfit and distress was my responsibility, not burden. I thought I'd be prepared to let you handle such things on your own upon your knighting, but- the habit is strong, I fear.

[ It's the familiarity that keeps him in place, it's what drew him here and has kept him for so long. When the tea mug is placed in front of him, he wastes no time picking it up, letting the warmth seep into his hand. As much as he knows that none of this is real, it's still pleasing. The smell is achingly nostalgic. While it has more association with Obi-Wan than it does with the tea itself, the ritual that goes with it is like a balm on the worst of days.

Even when he was at his angriest, it never failed to calm him down after his initial tantrum. ]

If it makes you feel better, that doesn't exactly get better over time. [ The habit, that is. ]

Of course it doesn't.

[ And he should sound weary, wary, or disappointed in one or both of them, but he doesn't. Here with the tree that feels so much like the temple, with his favorite spiced, bitter tea, with Anakin? It's fond. Serene. ]

Strange as it will always be to know you've outgrown me, I can't say I shall ever grow past wanting your company, or worrying for you.

Qui-Gon may have bid me train you but...it became something I did for myself shortly after our first year.

Don't count on it. Even your disappointment has its limits.

[ The words aren't biting and angry so much as they are matter-of-fact. He takes a sip of tea, and it's just how it's always been. When was the last time they'd had tea together? ]

..Oh.

[OPEN] The truth is often what we make of it

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