He must be alright with that because there's no alternative.
As the other man elaborates, Anakin watches him for a long moment, uncertain whether his hearing might have somehow become defective once more, maybe his implants are failing him or more likely, his mind. Surely, Obi-Wan isn't bothering Claude about - but then, Claude speaks on and continues in the same vein. He stares. Blinks. Stares. ]
Obi-Wan... commented on your hickey.
[ What. ]
I don't understand why he'd...
[ It's one thing for Obi-Wan, who's usually intensely private and skittish about other people's private lives as well, to bring up something so personal to Claude. Something concerning his body, of all things, and the thought makes something cold unravel in his chest, ice spreading dangerously beneath his skin. Making Claude uncomfortable is extremely unacceptable. Then, there's how he'd used it as an excuse to ask for Anakin's old crystal, like it matters. He can't imagine why he'd want it back at all, perhaps except for one, singular reason. His gaze darkens. ]
Unless he wants his trophy back, I guess. If so, I think you should hit him in the eye with it.
[ Anakin isn't reluctant with his emotions. You can always tell, with him. You can see it on his face, even now, scarred and deeply marked by the war, whatever he feels. It's there. Claude looks at him while he seems to wonder the exact same thing that Claude has wondered, about Kenobi, about why he would take such personal interest. Then, the anger comes, clouding his vision, his blue eyes more like thunderstorms than clear skies. Claude doesn't back down, although maybe he should, when he begins asking himself if this was what Anakin looked like when he laid the Jedi Order down. Instead, he straightens up slightly, squares his shoulders and responds, keeping his voice level, calm: ]
I don't think the kyber is a trophy to him, Anakin. I think it means something else, something more important than the spoils of war, you know?
[ He doesn't say it out loud, because they don't have the time for that kind of thinking right now, that kind of discussion, but it's implied, lies beneath the rest like a quiet reminder: after all, this wasn't a war he won, whatever he took from you, you took everything from him.
Anakin might have had his reasons, but so does Kenobi now. Two flawed men calling each other mistaken. That's what we're looking at here.
Swallowing thickly, he lets his hand holding the comm drop until his whole upper body's in view, only then holding out his free hand, flattening his palm and flexing his fingers once, invitingly. Extending himself. Reaching out.
Claude's just one more of those to the mix. He recognises this sour feeling at the back of his tongue, this heavy weight in his chest. His own shortcomings, coming into play. Nice timing, huh. Never a better one. ]
[ Anakin watches him, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. Something more important, huh? Like what? Obi-Wan was always the perfect Jedi, even in the end. He doesn't hold onto anything, not the past, not some silly kyber crystal and not Anakin, either. But of course, Claude is sweet, kind-natured and unlikely to judge people without cause and he has little cause, here, aside from Obi-Wan's honestly deplorable behaviour towards him. It's odd. Maybe the last few years haven't been kind to the old man, either.
Haven't been kind to anyone, really. ]
I don't know, my love.
[ He gives Claude a small smile as the other man stretches out his hand, unclenching one of his from his lap and pulling off the glove for good measure before reaching through the blue light, his skeletal, black fingers curling between Claude's. For a moment, they just sit like that, watching each other, Anakin's eyes straying to their linked hands repeatedly because a part of him refuses to believe that he can't feel him, that they aren't linked as physically as they ought to be.
His eyes close.
Then, he reaches out, reaches and reaches, past particles and dust and the nothing that most of the universe is made of and he finds Claude's hand amidst all the impressions and holds, trying to project himself all the way out there to him. He wants, so badly, to connect. It's only been a couple of days. It'll be many, many more before they meet again. ]
[ As Anakin pulls off his glove and reaches out to take his hand, the image of their linked fingers, connecting palms, feeling reassuring and comforting in an environment where there's not a lot of that going around, right? Claude smiles, about to withdraw his hand again, say my love, we have to make it brief, but then he feels Anakin, the touch of Anakin's fingers, flesh and bone and astral distances away, holding his hand instead and the sensation is almost overwhelming him. He stares up at Anakin for a long moment, not really seeing him, basking in the feel of him although he's many systems away, probably, then he breaks into a smile, squeezing the force of him back once. ]
What am I supposed to say to him? Sure, I can keep pretending you're dead, but he'll be able to tell something's wrong.
[ Rainier used to call him out on his lies, with one look at his face. You're lying to me, Claude - try with the truth this time. On top of that, Kenobi has his Jedi tricks and could probably coax the truth out of him, if he thought he needed to, not that Claude honestly thinks he would, but who knows. Who knows anymore, in the midst of this war? What anyone would do...
He meets Anakin's eyes, softer again, bluer, more beautiful, more soothing now. Cocking his head, he sighs in a way that clearly states, I was never a good liar to begin with, what am I gonna do against you people?
Rainier and lone Jedi?
After another long moment, he pulls out of Anakin's grip, softly, reluctantly, but with determination. Time. Time's not on their side. ]
[ Anakin very nearly doesn't catch the question, too caught up in the sensation of Claude's fingers against his own, his presence in the Force, sharpened as if he were Force sensitive himself, as if they shared that kind of bond. He can't seem to stop himself from reaching, not even when Claude disentangles their fingers, dulling the connection but not enough to disappear, never enough. Anakin thinks he'll always be able to find him, no matter where he is, no matter the vastness between them. He breathes out slowly, his breath trembling against the inside of his mask.
But then, as he meets Claude's eyes, he thinks about the other man, alone on Tatooine with no one but Obi-Wan for company, Obi-Wan who has made whatever issues he might have Claude's problem for reasons Anakin can't begin to understand. He sighs. Sits up straighter, his hand falling very slowly back into his lap as he pulls his attention back to himself, to his own surroundings and the hum of the engines beneath him. ]
Then, I think...
[ He's about to tell Claude to lie to Obi-Wan. Then, he remembers being caught in someone else's net, about trying to get free from whatever entanglement they'd made for reasons that weren't understandable and failing, falling, burning - and his breath catches briefly in his throat. No. No, it won't do.
Claude deserves better.
Nodding to himself, he continues: ]
I think you should tell him the truth. If he comes looking for me, so be it.
[ The thought mostly fills him with irritation. Half a year ago, he would have relished the change for a re-match but now, it feels even less likely that he'd win and the thought of losing twice to Obi-Wan Kenobi... ugh. Awful. ]
[ If he comes looking for me, so be it, says Anakin.
Claude almost reaches for his hand again, but refrains because. Time. Always time, of the essence. ]
I'm gonna make sure he doesn't come for you, you know that, right? I'm gonna talk some sense into him.
[ There's a pause in which Claude could say a million things he doesn't say, not because they're secret og unspeakable or wrong, but because there are more important things, like putting a smile back on Anakin's face. He's had enough to deal with and because he has, he's made sure the world has as well. It's a self-feeding, never-ending loop and Claude is tired of cycles like that, wheels that go on and on with no one to stop them, because everyone's keeping it spinning.
Stop.
Smile, Anakin. Smile. ]
If anyone's able to do that, it's probably me.
[ He doesn't sound more cocky than he feels. Claude knows himself, he knows he's got oral talents that beat most people's. If Rainier hadn't told him, he'd still have known. He can make people listen. He made Anakin listen, he made Anakin listen even in death. Obi-Wan Kenobi doesn't stand a chance, sorry, old man.
Meeting Anakin's eyes, he takes the first step, smiling wide and unabashed. Teeth and the wide curve of lips. It's not because he isn't acknowledging how hard this is for the other man, how huge the leaps he's taking.
It's because he acknowledges it, yeah. This is the reward. This moment. This pride Claude is showing him, his. ]
[ Claude tells him that he's going to talk some sense into Obi-Wan, the Negotiator himself and even without the smile Claude shoots him afterwards, certain and sure without a trace of overconfidence, Anakin would have believed him. Who wouldn't want to understand Claude's perspective, that unique gentleness he brings to the world just by being who he is and doing what he does? Crazy, evil people, sure, but no matter how he perceives Obi-Wan now, no matter what they have left, the man has never been either of those. Indeed, if anyone could do it...
Anakin looks at him for a long moment, his skin feeling paper-thin all over, like something might just give without him even moving an inch from where he sits. In a moment, Claude will end the call and they'll be back to their respective missions. Anakin will join Rex in the cockpit, probably, and they'll continue trying to find their way back to each other along bridges burned. Claude will talk to Obi-Wan. Claude will believe in himself and in Anakin, both, and it'll be enough for them because there's really not much else left to grasp.
They have each other.
They do.
Anakin swallows and clicks his mask off his face. Then, he looks at Claude and smiles back, the expression shaky around the edges for half a second before it settles there, his eyes crinkling. Beautiful Claude, whom he'll never match for looks, but he can give back what he's granted, that, at least, he hasn't lost. ]
History shows.
[ His voice is frailer without the mask but warmer, too.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He must be alright with that because there's no alternative.
As the other man elaborates, Anakin watches him for a long moment, uncertain whether his hearing might have somehow become defective once more, maybe his implants are failing him or more likely, his mind. Surely, Obi-Wan isn't bothering Claude about - but then, Claude speaks on and continues in the same vein. He stares. Blinks. Stares. ]
Obi-Wan... commented on your hickey.
[ What. ]
I don't understand why he'd...
[ It's one thing for Obi-Wan, who's usually intensely private and skittish about other people's private lives as well, to bring up something so personal to Claude. Something concerning his body, of all things, and the thought makes something cold unravel in his chest, ice spreading dangerously beneath his skin. Making Claude uncomfortable is extremely unacceptable. Then, there's how he'd used it as an excuse to ask for Anakin's old crystal, like it matters. He can't imagine why he'd want it back at all, perhaps except for one, singular reason. His gaze darkens. ]
Unless he wants his trophy back, I guess. If so, I think you should hit him in the eye with it.
no subject
I don't think the kyber is a trophy to him, Anakin. I think it means something else, something more important than the spoils of war, you know?
[ He doesn't say it out loud, because they don't have the time for that kind of thinking right now, that kind of discussion, but it's implied, lies beneath the rest like a quiet reminder: after all, this wasn't a war he won, whatever he took from you, you took everything from him.
Anakin might have had his reasons, but so does Kenobi now. Two flawed men calling each other mistaken. That's what we're looking at here.
Swallowing thickly, he lets his hand holding the comm drop until his whole upper body's in view, only then holding out his free hand, flattening his palm and flexing his fingers once, invitingly. Extending himself. Reaching out.
Claude's just one more of those to the mix. He recognises this sour feeling at the back of his tongue, this heavy weight in his chest. His own shortcomings, coming into play. Nice timing, huh. Never a better one. ]
no subject
Haven't been kind to anyone, really. ]
I don't know, my love.
[ He gives Claude a small smile as the other man stretches out his hand, unclenching one of his from his lap and pulling off the glove for good measure before reaching through the blue light, his skeletal, black fingers curling between Claude's. For a moment, they just sit like that, watching each other, Anakin's eyes straying to their linked hands repeatedly because a part of him refuses to believe that he can't feel him, that they aren't linked as physically as they ought to be.
His eyes close.
Then, he reaches out, reaches and reaches, past particles and dust and the nothing that most of the universe is made of and he finds Claude's hand amidst all the impressions and holds, trying to project himself all the way out there to him. He wants, so badly, to connect. It's only been a couple of days. It'll be many, many more before they meet again. ]
no subject
What am I supposed to say to him? Sure, I can keep pretending you're dead, but he'll be able to tell something's wrong.
[ Rainier used to call him out on his lies, with one look at his face. You're lying to me, Claude - try with the truth this time. On top of that, Kenobi has his Jedi tricks and could probably coax the truth out of him, if he thought he needed to, not that Claude honestly thinks he would, but who knows. Who knows anymore, in the midst of this war? What anyone would do...
He meets Anakin's eyes, softer again, bluer, more beautiful, more soothing now. Cocking his head, he sighs in a way that clearly states, I was never a good liar to begin with, what am I gonna do against you people?
Rainier and lone Jedi?
After another long moment, he pulls out of Anakin's grip, softly, reluctantly, but with determination. Time. Time's not on their side. ]
I'll do whatever's safest for you, though.
no subject
But then, as he meets Claude's eyes, he thinks about the other man, alone on Tatooine with no one but Obi-Wan for company, Obi-Wan who has made whatever issues he might have Claude's problem for reasons Anakin can't begin to understand. He sighs. Sits up straighter, his hand falling very slowly back into his lap as he pulls his attention back to himself, to his own surroundings and the hum of the engines beneath him. ]
Then, I think...
[ He's about to tell Claude to lie to Obi-Wan. Then, he remembers being caught in someone else's net, about trying to get free from whatever entanglement they'd made for reasons that weren't understandable and failing, falling, burning - and his breath catches briefly in his throat. No. No, it won't do.
Claude deserves better.
Nodding to himself, he continues: ]
I think you should tell him the truth. If he comes looking for me, so be it.
[ The thought mostly fills him with irritation. Half a year ago, he would have relished the change for a re-match but now, it feels even less likely that he'd win and the thought of losing twice to Obi-Wan Kenobi... ugh. Awful. ]
no subject
Claude almost reaches for his hand again, but refrains because. Time. Always time, of the essence. ]
I'm gonna make sure he doesn't come for you, you know that, right? I'm gonna talk some sense into him.
[ There's a pause in which Claude could say a million things he doesn't say, not because they're secret og unspeakable or wrong, but because there are more important things, like putting a smile back on Anakin's face. He's had enough to deal with and because he has, he's made sure the world has as well. It's a self-feeding, never-ending loop and Claude is tired of cycles like that, wheels that go on and on with no one to stop them, because everyone's keeping it spinning.
Stop.
Smile, Anakin. Smile. ]
If anyone's able to do that, it's probably me.
[ He doesn't sound more cocky than he feels. Claude knows himself, he knows he's got oral talents that beat most people's. If Rainier hadn't told him, he'd still have known. He can make people listen. He made Anakin listen, he made Anakin listen even in death. Obi-Wan Kenobi doesn't stand a chance, sorry, old man.
Meeting Anakin's eyes, he takes the first step, smiling wide and unabashed. Teeth and the wide curve of lips. It's not because he isn't acknowledging how hard this is for the other man, how huge the leaps he's taking.
It's because he acknowledges it, yeah. This is the reward. This moment. This pride Claude is showing him, his. ]
no subject
Anakin looks at him for a long moment, his skin feeling paper-thin all over, like something might just give without him even moving an inch from where he sits. In a moment, Claude will end the call and they'll be back to their respective missions. Anakin will join Rex in the cockpit, probably, and they'll continue trying to find their way back to each other along bridges burned. Claude will talk to Obi-Wan. Claude will believe in himself and in Anakin, both, and it'll be enough for them because there's really not much else left to grasp.
They have each other.
They do.
Anakin swallows and clicks his mask off his face. Then, he looks at Claude and smiles back, the expression shaky around the edges for half a second before it settles there, his eyes crinkling. Beautiful Claude, whom he'll never match for looks, but he can give back what he's granted, that, at least, he hasn't lost. ]
History shows.
[ His voice is frailer without the mask but warmer, too.
He looks at Claude and believes in him. ]