Redeeming Anakin

by AK

Summary: After Anakin has turned to the dark side, his former Master sets out to turn him back to the light. Said Master comes to a few unpleasant realizations.

Warning: NC-17 for rape and violence. Also noncanon; it's my own pre-Ep 2 interpretation of things to come. Anakin is pre-black body armor and helmet.

Archive: M_A if you will take it, and OKEB. If you want it let me know, I will likely as not be more than thrilled to give it to you.

Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns Obi-Wan, Anakin, Darth Vader, Darth Maul, Qui-Gon, Yoda, and a ton of other people, and if he decides to sue he can probably own me too.

Author's Notes: Well, here it is--my second fanfic. Many gracious thanks to Masters Renee, Chad, and Nonie for betareading. And without their encouragement, this thing would never have come to exist.

Feedback: Please...nothing in the world makes me happier.

Redeeming Anakin

by AK

Obi-Wan woke with a start. A flickering in the Force had caught his notice. A vergence in the Force, Qui-Gon had called him.

The flickering in the Force was the presence of his former Padawan, Anakin Skywalker. He was near to his former Master, and it was the kind of disturbance no Knight could sleep through. Their Master-apprentice mindlink had survived even Anakin's turn into the dark side.

Which had done little for his sleep. Obi-Wan rose from the sleep-couch and silently donned his robe. Anakin had been his student; his companion and his most intimate friend since Qui-Gon had left him. Obi-Wan felt certain that Anakin was not a lost cause. He could be turned back to the light.

Qui-Gon would never have let him turn to the dark side in the first place.

Obi-Wan walked slowly to the cockpit of the transport, pondering.

Anakin could not have turned utterly to evil, because their mindlink remained. Of course, who knew if that meant anything? But surely there was still some good in him. Surely young Anakin Skywalker, of the touseled blond hair and the happy smile, could not have been eliminated completely. Yes, he had turned into a brooding adolescent, quiet and sullen, but the little blond child as Obi-Wan had first known him was surely deep inside. Surely.

And if he will not turn?

If Anakin would not turn back to the light, Obi-Wan understood that he was walking into the waiting arms of death. But there was no escaping it. He had to try to turn Anakin back, before it was too late.

/Do, or do not. There is no try./

So Obi-Wan would do. He had to. It was his responsibility. To himself, to Anakin, to Qui-Gon, and to the galaxy.

He smiled bitterly into the empty darkness of the cockpit. He would finish what he had started. Somehow.

*

Obi-Wan searched the Force for Anakin, and it led him to a darkened, empty hangar bay. The boy was waiting for him.

Anakin had dressed in a black jumpsuit. His light hair was touseled, and he looked as innocent as he had the day he'd left. Except, that is, for his eyes. They had aged a hundred years in only days.

Obi-Wan walked towards him slowly, his brown robe swishing softly against his legs. "Were you calling me?"

A quiet smile spread over Anakin's face. His features were familiar yet somehow different. Altered. His teeth were very white, visible to Obi-Wan even in the dim light. "On the contrary...you were calling me."

"Was I?" Obi-Wan said with a touch of earnestness. "What made you answer?"

Anakin came towards him, faster than Obi-Wan would have liked. His weapon slapped against his leg as he stalked his former Master. "You hope to turn me from my destiny," he said in a low, toneless voice. The barest glint of anger dwelled within it. Anakin's new alliance with evil showed fully only in his eyes, which burned with molten fury.

Obi-Wan felt cold fear steal into his chest. "This isn't your destiny, Anakin."

"Why did I come? I came to silence you." Anakin tugged out his lightsaber and snapped it on. It had looked the same as his old one, but it was a new saber; bright blood red had replaced the traditional Jedi color of the other.

Quickly, but reluctantly, Obi-Wan tossed his brown robe to the side and slowly pulled out his lightsaber. "I came to help you find yourself again," he tried. Anakin stood back a moment, studying his posture and stance.

"Anakin don't make me fight you," he said in the lowest of voices. He was not afraid, but merely sorrowful. He was not afraid to die

oh Force, to be with Qui-Gon again...

but he needed to live; to turn Anakin away from the darkness and evil that had drawn him in. He would defend himself, if necessary. Obi-Wan steeled himself; he had to succeed in this mission. He had failed once; he must not fail again. Anakin had to be redeemed.

"You shouldn't have come," Anakin answered, and his voice echoed oddly. It sounded different...and somehow wrong. It was deeper than it had been when he'd left his Master, but there was more to it than that. It was quieter, its undertones edged with the dark.

Anakin where did you go wrong?

Obi-Wan parried the first red slashes easily. He was an excellent fighter; he had been since he'd first held his lightsaber. But Anakin was only testing him. Force-fast, Anakin spun his red laser towards the Jedi's midsection and Obi-Wan only barely leaped out of the way. The fight had barely begun, he realized, and already Anakin was pushing him to his limits. Already he was nearly out of breath.

Anakin was all attack, and little defense, but Obi-Wan did not want to kill his opponent, and probably he could not have even had he wanted to. He settled for blocking the solid, painful blows, but he recognized that trying to tire Anakin would be useless. The boy was too strong in the Force.

Obi-Wan did not want to give ground, but Anakin left him little choice. The younger man backed him into a smaller chamber, never letting up on his swiftly dangerous offensive. The narrow room was better lit, but Obi-Wan was not comforted. The brightness allowed him a perfect view of the demonic quality in Anakin's eyes; Obi-Wan wished he could not see them.

Obi-Wan felt the strike of the red saber vibrate through his arms, and he recognized that he was being forced backwards. Anakin sliced at him, at his head, at his torso and finally at his legs. Obi-Wan jumped over the burning red saber, and twisted away to regroup; to regain his composure.

But the younger man took him totally by surprise. Silently using the Force, he moved debris from the corner into Obi-Wan's rearward path. Obi-Wan did not trip, but it was a close thing, and he did stumble. Anakin abruptly brought the hilt of his lightsaber down onto Obi-Wan's shoulder, and the Jedi was stunned. It was only pain, and only for a single split second, but it was enough. Anakin took advantage of the moment, and Obi-Wan's weapon was loosened from his hand and flung away.

Grasping him by the neck, Anakin wrenched him around and slammed him against the wall. Obi-Wan's body tensed helplessly, involuntarily, expecting a final, fatal attack.

But then, instead of stabbing his former Master, Anakin turned his lightsaber off. Grasping both of Obi-Wan's wrists in one long-fingered hand, he held them against the wall, over the Jedi's head. He slowly dropped his other hand to lie caressingly on Obi-Wan's waist.

His cheek suddenly pressed against the coldness of the wall, Obi-Wan blanched as he realized what his student was thinking. "Anakin don't do this," he said, in as slow and calm a voice as he could manage.

He received no answer, only a tightening of the hands binding his wrists. Anakin was using not only his hands, but the Force. Desperate, Obi-Wan began to struggle against him, trying to tear himself from Anakin's powerful grip. But it was no use. Anakin had always been stronger; his midichlorian count was unprecedented.

That's why Qui-Gon wanted the boy for an apprentice. He refused you how many times? Three? Four? And was willing to drop you for the boy after three minutes with him. Obi-Wan began to slide the long descent into despair. But he would not submit; he would fight. He had too much pride not to.

The lightsaber surged back on with a hum, and Obi-Wan had a brief, flaring moment of hope. There was no dishonor in death. The momentary flash was destroyed, however, as Anakin carefully began to slit his clothes with the laser. The heat was unbearably close to him, and his body involuntarily stilled as the instinct of self-preservation took over. Frozen, he breathed hard, unable to quell his surge of terror. But the blood-colored beam burned up through his tunic without touching the fragile skin beneath; the dark side of the Force was guiding Anakin in his task.

Obi-Wan roused his unwilling body. He tried to move, to push against the wall or shove away, but the Force held him rigid and immobile. He moved just enough to get a burn for his trouble. It was but a fraction of an inch, yet it was too far. The pain stung, and he fought for control. How could Anakin have such mastery of the Force, that he could use it to keep Obi-Wan from moving while also cutting the clothing, and without slicing the Jedi in half? It should have been too much for one so young and inexperienced. But Anakin's concentration seemed effortless. Obi-Wan's leggings had been all but burned away.

When the saber went towards his boots, Obi-Wan stood stock still of his own volition, rooted to the spot and gripped by another overwhelming moment of panicked hysteria. It was too much. Anakin was going to cut off his legs at the knees, there was no way to avoid that. Even the Force could not give him the precision required to successfully do that...surely the leather was too thin, too closely wrapped around his legs...!?

But the boots too were slit, one after the other, and then his last inner articles of clothing. Obi-Wan was whole and not even really burned. His garments, however, were a different story, sliding easily to the floor. Anakin barely had to touch them. The leather of the boots peeled down around his lower legs like skinned fruits, and Obi-Wan stood exposed, face against the wall. His feet remained in the shoe parts of his boots, and a sleeve of his tunic remained hanging from him, a burnt flap of his leggings. Clothed only in tatters, he was apparently naked enough for the other man, who snapped off his lightsaber and put it away.

Exposed, nearly naked, and utterly vulnerable before the mouth of evil that waited for him.

Shamed, Obi-Wan tried to contort his body sideways, trying to pull away. He could not let this happen to him. He could not bear it. He had to escape, in any way he could...but even as he thought it he knew there would be no escape this time. Anakin was just too strong. Breathing hard, Obi-Wan bit his tongue, turning his head from side to side in a frantic, pointless search for some means of deliverance, some sanctuary, somewhere, somehow. The fact that Anakin was now letting him move only horrified him further. Anakin was allowing him to squirm, pinned like a helpless animal.

But then the motion of his head was stilled as the Force again flattened it against the wall. Obi-Wan fought to be calm, to harness the power of the light side of the Force, and he failed. His poise had long since been irrevocably shattered, and Anakin was siphoning all the powers of the Force to bend Obi-Wan to his will. The Jedi felt drugged, tired.

Obi-Wan felt Anakin press his head to the Jedi's struggling shoulder, inhaling the smell of his body, brushing against his hair. Then he felt the hands spreading his legs apart, laying him open for the taking. He resisted, trying to close them, but Anakin overpowered him with ease to spare. Obi-Wan gasped audibly as Anakin's penis brushed against him, at the hot drops of liquid already forming on its tip...at the fact of the thing itself, and at what his student intended to do to him.

/Your eyes are so very wide, Master,/ Anakin mocked him through their bond.

/Anakin stop don't do this Anakin no.../ Everything in him was screaming. He gasped as those treacherously soft hands roamed over his sensitive nipples, under his armpits. Exploring him, invading and defiling him. All of him. Anakin's legs rubbed between his, and those hands--no inch of skin was left untouched. They came to rest, finally, on his naked hips.

And then all conscious words dissolved, and Obi-Wan cried out as Anakin shoved himself far into him with a crushing violence. He hadn't been with a man since Qui-Gon had died; he was tight and Anakin was anything but gentle as he pleasured himself with the other's body, with Obi-Wan's smooth skin and soft hair. His tight ass, and his muscles, straining towards a freedom they could never obtain. The futile writhing of the other only added to the dark one's gratification as he thrust inside, and pulled out, and thrust in again.

Obi-Wan moaned in pain as Anakin fucked him. He could feel Anakin's anger, his hatred running like a poison stream below his darkened surface. He could feel the satisfaction the younger man took in punishing his former Master in this way. For everything or for nothing in particular, it made little difference now.

Stricken by the savage chaos of the assault, the Jedi stopped attempting to conceal his pain from the other. He no longer had the strength. why are you doing this?

But Anakin did not answer him. As the other man absorbed the anguish in the mental projections his breath came faster, and Obi-Wan felt the cold flow of that supple desire wash over him, into him, with the feel of Anakin inside him. It swept him up in a rush of physical nausea.

But the dark energy of the pain was rejuvenating Anakin. Refreshing him, and he was reveling in its gift.

Obi-Wan understood only belatedly.

His pain, felt directly through their mindbond, was turning Anakin on like nothing else could.

/oh Anakin what has he done to you?/

Pain in the living Force bestowed intense power upon the dark side. The dark one released Obi-Wan's wrists and gripped his buttocks with both hands, holding him in place using only the Force.

His body racked with agony, his mind spinning, Obi-Wan gave up. He stopped fighting his former apprentice and let Anakin take him. He went slack, his body hanging like a rag doll under the other's slender, heated form. His hands fell limp to his sides as Anakin ravaged him rhythmically, every thrust killing something inside Obi-Wan. The dark one was enjoying his tortured submission as much as he'd liked his resistance. Sweat dripped between their bodies, between Anakin's stomach and Obi-Wan's back. He did not know whose it was. Anakin's motions became less jerky and smoother as more of the slippery fluid leaked from him, but Obi-Wan's pain was not lessened.

This is all because you failed. You failed to guide him in the light. Obi-Wan's blue-grey eyes involuntarily filled with tears; he thought of his Master, so long dead at the hands of that other Sith apprentice, and to the task he'd been sworn to as Qui-Gon had died. In his head he could hear his Master's voice all over again. /Promise me you will train the boy./ Could feel the gentle brush of fingers across cheek. Obi-Wan bent his head in sorrow. Master...I have failed you again. Tears ran down Obi-Wan's cheeks, but he did not move to wipe them away.

Anakin was rocking into him faster now, and harder than before. The being's passion was greedy, sadistic; Obi-Wan's anguish only enhancing his arousal. The intimacy between them was horrifying. Obi-Wan was open to him in every way, body, mind and soul. Even his thoughts were no longer his alone. He couldn't endure this. Pride kept him from crying aloud again, but what did it matter when Anakin heard every agonized thought, every sound in his mind?

And he could feel his aching torment delighting the other...three rapid thrusts, and Obi-Wan felt a slight snapping in the Force and the splash of liquid deep inside him. In that most private of areas, which no longer truly belonged to him. Nothing did, anymore...even though he was now alone again, in his mind.

Anakin released him. He stepped away, straightening his clothing, and Obi-Wan fell to the ground. Feeling fluid run down along his legs, he wondered vaguely if it was semen or blood. Probably it was both. He lay like that, then, in a heap where Vader had dropped him. Discarded him.

For the being was Vader, and he belonged to the Emperor. Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Master, no longer existed. This being was Darth Vader now, a Dark Lord of the Sith.

Obi-Wan realized he had made a terrible mistake in coming.

He moaned again, and rolled onto his side. Pain radiated through him from his center, his back, his legs. He could feel Vader's eyes on him, and he heard the snap-hiss of the Sith's lightsaber. Then came its characteristic hum, and Obi-Wan felt its blazing heat. Vader was going to kill him.

The Jedi lay still. His mind reeling, he waited for death. Dimly he sought the Force, but he felt like he would never move again. Vader or no Vader.

And then the hum died suddenly. Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Vader had flicked it off, and replaced it on his belt.

He's going to let me live. Obi-Wan came to the realization with something close to dismay. Well of course; what other choice would he make? Why should the Sith strike him down when he could let him live instead. Since everything he had lived for was gone.

Obi-Wan laughed harshly and to himself. The Jedi were rapidly becoming extinct. The Temples were destroyed, the Emperor had control of the galaxy and last but not least, Qui-Gon had been taken from him all those years ago. That pain was aged, but the wound was in many ways still fresh, still bleeding. His world had been obliterated, with everything he'd loved smashed to pieces like fragile bits of glass. At that moment, Obi-Wan couldn't imagine anything worse.

So Vader would let him live on.

Vader looked down at him for a few moments, amused or perhaps interested. Obi-Wan didn't know; couldn't tell. The mind of the Sith was closed to him now, bond or no bond. Perhaps the Knight-Padawan mindbond had finally been destroyed, in that snapping of the Force. Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut. He did not sense the being's departure, but he eventually realized that he was alone. In every way.

Obi-Wan's mind drifted, and he lay silent and unmoving for a great while. Get up, he told himself. He would face the destiny the Force had set for him with courage. Qui-Gon had always been impressed by his courage. But Qui-Gon was no longer there to comfort him; he would need every ounce of that courage to go on.

He would go back to Tatooine, yes. To wait. And he would be patient. Perhaps nothing could turn Anakin away from evil, but there was that one last hope for redemption.

Their only hope.

And he would always have Anakin...his friend and his beloved student. Obi-Wan would keep those memories sacred, keep them safe and separate from all....this.

Anakin was Anakin. Vader was Vader. Vader had violated him and left him to the cruelest fate he could imagine, but Anakin had been his Padawan. He'd loved Anakin, and still did. The boy was in there, behind the anger and the impatient hate and evil. Obi-Wan could still sense the Anakin he loved deep within the darkness. Perhaps it would yet be brought out.

Perhaps Anakin would someday live again.

In the meantime, he would heal. He would not forget this--he would never forget this--but he would put it behind him. He would go on.

Obi-Wan's entire being was wracked with pain as he struggled to stand and straighten, but he forced his much-abused body to obey him as he stood to face his future.

Pain could be lived with; it would have to be.

It would have to be.



-finis-

by AK
CalmJedi@hotmail.com