The ship was massive!

Well, sort of. Luke had been on bigger ships before, but they’d all had so many people on them. This was just for the three of them and was so shiny and sleek that Luke literally saw himself in the metal as they loaded up the ship.

They were moving. Which was different somehow from being on the move, but Padme said it firmly like it was an event so Luke nodded and left them to it. It did mean that he’d had to say goodbye to the tally chart he’d kept on the floor under his bed that told him how long he’d been with Padme and Anakin. It was at sixty-three when he left.

He was sleeping on the ship tonight. They were doing a night flight so that they’d be in Naboo by the time that Luke woke up. And Naboo was where Padme was from so it was going to be a good place.

In fact, the ship was Padme’s which explained a lot, Luke thought. There was a fancy conference part of the ship with the softest chairs and a table that you could pull up a holo on. Padme said that sometimes she talked to people about the galaxy around that table.

He jumped up on to it and swirled the Delta 7 around, quietly making the noises to himself. Then he leapt on to the sofas opposite, twirling the ship into a complicated arch and imagining doing it at the controls. He continued swirling it around, jumping from seat to seat and sometimes back to the table.

When he looked up, Padme was standing at the door, hands on her hips and watching him with an expression that didn’t quite stay steady.

Unsure, he paused.

They stared at each other for a few seconds. “What is furniture meant to be for?” Padme asked and there was a wobble in her voice that didn’t feel threatening.

Luke looked around the cabin. “Telling people what to do?” he tried, scrunching up his face as he thought.

Her lips pressed together and she lifted a hand to almost cover them. When she moved a little, he could see that she was trying to hide a smile and it made him feel warm. Grinning, he leapt down and ran over to her to rest his head on her stomach and stick his tongue out up at her.

It made her laugh, like he’d hoped it would. She dropped her hand down to his face and stroked his cheek with her thumb. “It’s not for jumping on,” she said softly.

He turned back to look at the cabin, leaning into her as he peered, then turned to look up at her again. “Where can I jump?” he asked earnestly.

“When we get to Naboo, we’ll jump,” Padme said. “I’ll teach you to jump across the rivers and on trees.”

He liked that idea. “Just us?” he asked.

“Maybe Anakin too,” Padme said and there was a flicker of something on her face. “Come on. Do you want to see if you can help fly?”

Help fly?

Luke nodded, eyes wide as she took his hand and led him up some steps and into the pilot’s cabin. It was a spacious area, enough for a co-pilot and some benches close. The viewer was narrow and pointed and Anakin was at the controls. He turned to look at Luke and gestured him forward with his metal hand.

Luke wasn’t allowed to study it because it was attached to Anakin’s nerves which was a bit annoying. He found it oddly fascinating, but Anakin had stopped wearing gloves when they were out and about so he saw it more and more. Anakin said he’s lost his arm once because he’d been impatient, but Luke wasn’t sure how that worked.

The stars were in the viewer and Luke sucked in a breath, oddly fascinated. He’d never really had a chance to see space – no-one wanted him up in the pilot’s cabin and he’d seen it, just never had the chance to stare.

 A playful tug brought him closer to Anakin and he grinned as the man sat back a little, offering up his lap. Luke scrambled up and Anakin winced slightly then wrapped his flesh arm around Luke. “Want to help us jump to hyperspace?”

Yes! Luke twisted a little to look up at him and grinned. Padme had taken the seat next to them and was pressing some of the buttons and adding in some co-ordinates.

Anakin shifted them forward and guided Luke’s hands to the lever. Their fingers linked as they held the bar and Luke stared down at the sight.

Together they pushed and then the stars in the viewer started to streak as if they were pulling them from their place. He could feel the ship getting ready and Luke sucked in his breath, in awe as they entered.

“Have you ever seen it before?” Anakin asked quietly.

Luke shook his head as the ship suddenly lurched forward. It was a smooth motion; he’d been on ships that jerked and creaked on the entry. This jump was amazing and he leaned forwards, wanting to watch forever.

“How is the siege going?” Padme asked quietly.

Luke felt Anakin shrug. “They’re going,” he said. “Destroying the factory on Geonosis will make a huge difference.” He sounded unhappy.

“Ahsoka and Obi-Wan have worked together many times before,” Padme said gently, but Anakin didn’t respond. “Who else will go with them?” she asked in a different voice.

“Master Mundi,” Anakin said. “And Vos.” He said the second name like he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“I imagine Obi-Wan was delighted with that,” Padme said with a small smile.

It seemed to make Anakin lighten a little. “I told Ahsoka to record his reaction,” he said with a grin. “It was glorious.”

Padme laughed and batted at his shoulder, then ruffled Luke’s hair. “I think that was an impressive first jump,” she offered.

Luke blinked and then tipped his head back so that his chin was up to the ceiling. “You’ve jumped to hyperspace before?” he checked.

“It was our first jump,” Anakin said smoothly. “As a family.”

Hmm.

Luke pulled his thoughts away from that and looked away. They kept making those sorts of comments at the moment and it made him feel…bubbly. Like something might pop and everything was a bit jittery and unsteady. He felt Anakin sigh as if disappointed and continued to stare out the viewer.

“Ani,” Padme said gently. “Just leave it.”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding a bit annoyed still. He ruffled Luke’s hair and then shifted forward to the controls. He was fiddling though, Luke could feel that and it felt like Luke had done something wrong, but he wasn’t sure what.

“Come on,” Padme said and, when Luke turned, he could see that she was standing. “Shall we get you ready for bed?”

Anakin kissed his head as Luke shifted off his lap, but didn’t say anything. His face looked tight, as if he was annoyed by something and Luke didn’t want to ask. Instead, he reached out for Padme’s hand again.

It was like they weren’t on a ship. There was a fancy cabin off of the room that Luke had been in earlier and it had a huge bed that bounced softly under Luke when leapt at it.

“Come on,” Padme encouraged. He lifted his arms and let her pull off his shirt and put his pyjamas on.

“Is Anakin mad at me?” Luke asked as she reached to pull back the covers.

She paused and then shook her head. “No, sweetheart. He isn’t mad at you.”

Luke hummed at that and snuggled down. “Are you sure?”

She tucked him in and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I promise you,” she said, looking it his eyes firmly, “Anakin isn’t mad at you. He’s just…he loves you. We both do. Sometimes he is just a bit impatient. He wants you to be happy and safe.” She stroked his hair.

“I am.”

He liked it when she smiled in that gentle, secret way that made him almost sure she didn’t smile at anyone else like that. “Good.” She gave his cheek a kiss and then put the Delta 7 on the covers for him. “I still think we should give you something softer to sleep with.”

Luke shook his head firmly and gathered the ship up close.

Xxx

He didn’t need to be in the pilot’s seat. Auto-pilot would work fine, but there was something about knowing that his son was on-board that made him just want to be sure.

When Padme’s hand slid down his chest from behind, he turned his head into her, pressing a kiss to her lips, still a little distracted.

“Ani,” she said in a way that made him want to snap at her. He restrained the urge and glared ahead. She must have picked up on it because she made her own annoyed sound and pulled away, turning the co-pilot’s chair so that she was sat facing him. “He’ll do it in his own time.”

“Yeah,” Anakin said, not looking at her.

“He thinks you’re angry with him.”

“What?” Anakin whirled around to her. She was watching him carefully, her brown eyes assessing in the way that she did in a diplomatic conference. He hated the fact that she was dealing with him like that and it was only the knowledge that Luke was downstairs that kept him from snapping at her.

“You bring it up and then get frustrated when he doesn’t reply. He’s seven-”

He shoved the auto pilot on and stood, determined not to have that argument.

“Anakin, would you talk to me?”

“We don’t even know that,” he hissed. “We don’t know our own son’s birthday. We do know he was shoved in the corner of some kriffin’ ship like cargo. Force knows whether he should be eight by now or-”

She grabbed at his arm and he stopped, staring over the top of her head. When her hands cupped his face, he resisted for a moment and then gave in to her.

“I know,” she said firmly. “I know.”

Yeah.

“I…I need him to know,” he said as he leaned down to touch his forehead to hers. “It won’t…I…” he pulled back. “I just want him to say it.”

She stroked his face. “I know,” she said, her own face sad. “But he needs to be ready, Ani. Dr Firra said-”

Yeah, he knew that the good doctor said. Luke could keep attachments relatively casual on purpose. It could be years before he’d name them as Mom and Dad. He might never. He understood he was in the past, would talk about his parents and he’d talk about Padme and Anakin, but he’d never link any of those things together.

It made him ache. The idea that his son had been so lost in the universe, so alone made him want to choke something and rip a ship apart and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Is your mom finally accepting that?” he asked, turning away and sitting down on one of the benches, keeping one eye on the controls.

Padme hummed at that. “We’ll see how that one goes,” she said.

Xxx

They arrived early in Thebes. Luke was still completely out so Anakin gathered him up, wrapping a blanket around him and settling the boy against his shoulder. His son shifted and snuggled in to Anakin’s neck.

He picked up the Delta 7 and rolled his eyes and the thing. Not that he didn’t approve, but he really did wish that Luke had found something softer to attach himself to. The amount of bruises that they’d all gotten from rolling on that force forsaken toy was idiotic.

Dawn was just coming up on the city and he’d forgotten how quiet the place could be, how peaceful. Strangely, Anakin wasn’t entirely sure that it wasn’t worse to be so quiet and he shifted Luke a little closer in his arms.

The streets were familiar, vaguely, from the last time they’d been here. He could remember Sola’s thoughtful gaze as she glanced between him and Padme. The worry from her mother and the frown on her father’s face as they’d all skirted around the issue of the fact that she’d needed a Jedi Knight to protect her.

It was different, he thought as she pressed a kiss to Luke’s head. He hadn’t really appreciated a parent’s fear before. He’d accepted it and known to expect it, but if in fifteen years’ time, Luke came home with an assassin on his tail-

Anakin scowled at the thought. They’d be dead, that he knew.

This time, when they entered Padme’s parents’ house, they were greeted at the door by her mother. It was early, Jobal must have been up at the crack of dawn to get ready and she hugged Padme to her with a fierce grip that made Anakin look away.

His mother would have adored Luke.

The sadness was like a blaster to the guts. The shock and pain of it almost robbed him of breath and he stood, almost adrift for a moment.

“Ani?” Padme said softly.

He stepped into the house, following the women down a wide, spacious hall that quickly opened to the dining room he remembered from last time. Through into a few steps and then up into the lounge area that opened up into the beautiful garden where he had once played with Padme’s nieces.

His nieces too now, he supposed.

“Oh Padme,” Jobal said, turning and looking at Anakin. “He’s beautiful,” she whispered, her eyes on Luke. “Is he completely asleep?” she asked, almost sounding amused.

“He might wake,” Anakin said gently. “He’ll go right back to sleep though do don’t worry too much.”

Jobal’s eyes met his and she smiled. “And my son-in-law,” she said. “I told you,” she added with a sly grin at Padme who actually flushed a little and for a moment looked awkward which Anakin was almost sure he’d never seen.

Amused, he looked at his wife. “She told you?” he questioned, smiling.

“Handsome,” Jobal said, busying about with some tea. “I said that you would make a lovely pair. I was right.”

That was…huh. She might actually be the first person who had reacted to the news of their marriage with pleasure. Not sure what to do with it, Anakin glanced down at the seats.

“Oh, please. Do sit. I imagine the little one isn’t as light as he looks.”

He was. Heavier than he had been because Luke had been almost scarily thin when he’d first arrived. But he was still light and slight. At his age, Anakin hadn’t had that same waif like look to him; he doubted Luke would ever fully grow out of it. Padme fussed as he sat down, still a little red cheeked as she tucked the blanket carefully around Luke.

“Handsome,” he teased.

“She said it. I didn’t,” Padme muttered, her cheeks going redder.

“She didn’t argue,” Jobal said to Anakin, as if spilling some secret. “My daughter always argues unless she agrees.”

It made him laugh, even as Padme looked skywards as if for help.

They talked a little. Sola’s twins were Luke’s age which would be good for him. They’d debated going up to the lake again, but Anakin wasn’t sure he or Luke would cope with being quite that remote. And Luke did need to socialise and keep up his appointments talking to someone.

Ruwee came in a little later. He’d been a mild-mannered man when Anakin had met him and he hadn’t really known what to make of him. He remained quiet and Anakin found himself almost hyper aware of Ruwee and he wasn’t really sure why.

By the time Luke stirred, they’d been in Thebes almost an hour. He could feel his son’s presence flicker a little as Luke naturally reached out and then contracted away again, hiding.

“Morning,” Anakin whispered to him and Luke lifted his head to blink blearily up at him. Luke made a noise which Anakin easily interpreted, being used to it. He reached with the force and pulled the Delta 7 over and Luke tucked it under his arm and snuggled in again, awake but apparently not ready to wake up properly.

“What ship is that?” Ruwee asked.

“Delta 7,” Luke mumbled. He yawned and then turned a bit in Anakin’s arms to face the man. “The Jedi…” he trailed off a little and Anakin could feel his son waking properly now to try and assess what he was allowed to say. “Who are you?” he asked curiously, one hand reaching up to bunch in Anakin’s shirt.

Ruwee opened his mouth.

“This is my father,” Padme said, cutting in smoothly. “Ruwee.”

He felt Luke whisper the name to himself, apparently committing it to memory.

“And Jobal, my mother.”

Luke twisted, almost impossibly twisted, to blink owlishly at Jobal. Then he turned back to Anakin and looked a little unsure.

“Do you want to try some tea?” Anakin asked and Luke nodded as Anakin brought the cup close with his metal hand. He let Luke take a sip and then almost laughed at Luke’s disgusted face. “No?”

Luke shook his head, eyeing the cup warily, like it might leap out at him. He sighed and buried his head back into Anakin’s neck. Then craned a little to whisper in Anakin’s ear.

“They’re watching,” Luke said, so quietly it was like he was hardly speaking.

“Shall we hide for a bit?” Anakin asked, whispering back in his son’s ear. Luke nodded quickly and Anakin caught Padme’s eye and shook his head. Her face fella little, but she nodded and glanced towards the garden. “Luke, why don’t you show Anakin how to climb a tree.”

Luke show him?

Anakin rolled his eyes, even as Luke’s cheeky face appeared, apparently delighted. “You can climb trees,” Luke laughed, suddenly like a different child. “You have to,” he added, swinging around to look at Padme. “Ahsoka said it was in the Jedi data guide.”

Jedi data guide?!

“There’s a data guide?” Jobal asked, in an amazed voice.

“My former Padawan thinks she’s funny,” Anakin said, standing and lifting Luke over his shoulder so that his son dangled down and cackled with laughter. “You know she’s fibbing,” he added to Luke.

“Ahsoka said you have to crash at least three times too,” Luke added and Anakin imagined his cheeks were turning red. “She said you’re the expert.”

He and his former padawan were going to have words. “That is not true,” he said as he strode to the beautiful glass doors that opened onto the gardens. “I am not the expert in crash landings.” He glared at Padme when she didn’t look convinced. “I’m not.”

“Gosh,” Ruwee said suddenly as Anakin's hand rested on the door handle. “Do you remember Padme’s flying test?”

His wife suddenly looked mortified. “There’re many trees outside,” she tried weakly, but Luke had already gotten himself back up and was sitting on Anakin’s left shoulder, head tilted curiously and there wasn’t a sith alive that could turn Anakin away from that nugget of information.

“Her flying test?” Anakin asked, looking back at the man as Luke clambered back down to his arms and then jumped to the floor, though he stayed very close to Anakin’s legs. “You’ve never mentioned that,” he realised, looking at his wife.

“Ruwee,” Jobal said in a mock scolding tone. “Really, if Padme wishes to keep her crash landings quiet, then she should be allowed to.”

What?

“Really?” Anakin asked, oddly delighted. “You crash land, do you?”

Padme glared at him. “Do not even go there,” she instructed. “There is no way my stories are as bad as yours.”

“Didn’t crash in my flying test,” Anakin said with a shrug. “In fact, I got a perfect score.”

“And a speeding ticket five minutes after leaving the centre.”

“There was Jedi business,” Anakin said dismissively.

“That’s convenient.”

Luke was glancing between them, like it was a beep-ball tournament. At some point, his eyes fixed on Jobal and he was smiling shyly at her when Anakin looked down.

“Padme said her mom had cookies,” Luke suggested sweetly. “I like cookies.”

It made Jobal laugh. “Cookies and then climbing trees?”

Luke nodded seriously and then turned to Anakin. “Cookies first,” he said in a grave tone, as if Anakin was a misbehaving child. And then, with that, he scampered to follow Jobal into the kitchen.

“He’s a little champ,” Ruwee said suddenly and Anakin suddenly realised the man had been watching Luke all along. He gave Padme a gentle kiss and Padme leaned into her father with a strange noise and Anakin realised, startled that she was trying not to cry.

He left them alone, oddly aware that she might need some time to be with her parents. So he went outside, feeling that uncomfortable stillness within him, as if he were trapped in a vast empty room and deeply aware of nothing happening.

He had no idea why he suddenly wanted to call Obi-Wan.

Xxx

Having Luke in Naboo was unbelievably soothing. Her son was such an easy going child that before long he was running around the house and the garden as if he’d always been there. Pooja and Ryoo had come over to play too and the three of them spent most of the afternoons after school running around the gardens. The first time, Luke had been adorned by a crown of flowers and seemed unfazed by it, giggling like a mad thing every time someone pointed to it. If he tired of their games, he'd just wander off and play with his ship, though Ryoo seemed to be equally fascinated, especially when Anakin made it fly.

It was Luke’s nature. He was so much like her father, she’d realised. They both found a simple joy in life and had easy going natures. There was perhaps a stubborn core and a flicker of a temper to Luke that her father lacked, but it crashed over him and was gone quickly. The day that Pooja had called his Delta 7 poodoo, Luke had turned away and refused to speak to her for the rest of the afternoon. But he’d accepted the apology and seemed to have forgotten about it the next day, even as Anakin glowered at Pooja.

It was Anakin that she worried about.

They’d settled into a routine of sorts. They’d get up early and have a walk together as a family. Anakin would spend the mornings out by the lake doing exercises while Padme and Luke found a quiet place to meditate then they would swim. Sometimes Anakin joined them. Then he and Luke would spend the afternoon together while she was at the palace. There had been scattered conversations about places that she should buy, areas that they could look into, but it had never gone further than that because it wouldn’t.

Anakin was calmer, but she could feel that he was going to get restless. He dabbled with repair work and upgrading some of the palace ships. He’d taken some of the pilots out to teach them manoeuvres. He meditated and had even made some half-hearted noise about helping to train up the clones, especially in their piloting, but she knew. And she thought he did too.

This wasn’t for Anakin. In fact, she was starting to think there was only one thing for Anakin, but she had no idea how that would work, or even if it could.

There were beautiful moments though.

Anakin was in the garden with the children and he and Luke were play-fighting with sticks. Anakin was playing the role of villain as he held Pooja with one arm and the little girl shrieked with joy. Luke and Ryoo were trying to ‘save’ Pooja with big smiles of their faces and a lot of squealing. Especially from Ryoo as her braids dangled in the wind.

He was a wonderful man, she thought as she watched and sipped her tea. She loved it when he smiled the way he was now, all easy confidence and eager fun. Watching him surrounded by children seemed right somehow and it still stole her breath when she found him and Luke curled up together or whispering with each other.

“He’s a rare one,” her mother said, standing with her. “Like a child himself sometimes.”

Yes. But she wondered about that little boy that she’d met so long ago and how much of a chance he’d actually ever had to be a child. Maybe, somewhere, it was balancing out for him, giving him a glimpse at a life he had never had.

“He’s a wonderful father,” Padme said quietly.

“Do you think you’ll have more?” her mother asked. “The more conventional way,” she added with a smile.

More? The idea of Anakin with a baby took her breath away a little. It came with a slight ache that they’d never got to have that with Luke but…another youngling?

“He needs to find something first.” Anakin let out a dramatic cry as Ryoo ‘wounded’ him and he fell to the floor. The girls looked a little worried but Luke, evidently sensing that Anakin was perfectly fine, threw himself down to the floor and clambered on top of Anakin like he was conquering a mountain. “He misses being a Jedi.”

“Will they have him back?”

“No.” That was irrevocable. “But you do not need to be Jedi knight to fight at their side and use the force.”

“And you?”

“I can take less diplomatic missions. Attend meetings more remotely. I think…I think I’m starting to realise how I want to balance this. And he,” she said, watching her son as he howled with laughter at something Anakin said, “is what I want to prioritise. And Anakin…he needs to find his own way to balance all of this.”

Xxx

That night, as they lay in bed, Padme turned to him.

“Geonosis isn’t far from here,” she pointed out softly. “How is the siege going?”

Anakin turned to her, blinking in confusion. “Not well,” he said, not even pretending that he hadn’t been keeping on contact with either Ahsoka or Obi-Wan. Probably both, knowing him. He sat up slowly. “The factory is well guarded, no matter how much of the planet we take. As long as those droids are being pumped out..." He trailed off, head tilting in the way that Luke had picked up from him. "What does it matter how far away it is?”

She watched him.

He was tempted, she could tell. Reaching out, she smoothed a hand down his chest. “We need to find something that works for us,” she suggested. “Would you go, if it wasn’t for Luke?”

He looked torn. “But Luke…”

“I went away for a few days,” she pointed out. “You won’t be far. If he needs you to come back-”

“It’s a war zone,” Anakin pointed out, but he looked already more focused.

“The factory is the last problem. The planet’s mostly under the republic’s control. Of course, I suppose that might not be interesting enough for you-”

He kissed her with more heat than he’d shown in weeks. She sucked in a breath, as he rolled them back down the bed. “I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered.

“I know who you are,” she murmured into his lips. “You’re a hero, Anakin. You can’t sit on the side lines for long. The fact that you have…I love you for that.”

His hand stroked down her side, fingers touching in a barely there caress as he looked down at her, eyes darkening. “You and Luke,” he vowed to her. “You are everything.”

She took hold of his face so that he looked at her properly. “Go,” she said, smiling.

But a mischievous smile was twisting his lips. “Now?” he asked, as his hand slipped under her night dress.

“Tomorrow,” she amended and gasped as his clever fingers got to work.


Tony enjoyed spending some time with Loki & Thor and their mom - she "mom'd" him too, which was nice (kinda melancholic, but nice), but he was glad when they headed off to Jotunheimen Park together.

Of course he'd set up a place for them, complete with AI support. Jarvis was awesome enough to monitor their location in case they needed him, and they could use google for practically anything else. And he was independent enough to help them out in case they were a "little too Asgardian" for comfort.

There weren't any issues re. Loki anymore, thank goodness. Once Tony'd given the evidence he'd compiled to the UN and the US government re the attack and related brainwashing, charges had been dropped. The fact that Loki had actively assisted in the recovery of NYC cemented his acceptance - there was even some talk of making him an ambassador, which Tony found unsurprising and hilarious at the same time.

Eventually, Frigga and Thor gave Tony a head's up that they'd decided it was time to return to Asgard and have a "conversation" with Odin. OH, to be a fly on that wall, Tony thought. Loki was to remain on earth, under his own AND his mother's protective spells to keep him safe from prying Asgardian eyes - they covered Loki himself, as well as the Jotunheim Park house, Stark Tower, and Malibu locations.

Did Tony say Frigga was awesome? Yeah, she was.

They'd been gone for a few earth days when Jarvis alerted Tony that Loki was in distress. "Try my panic-attack protocols and see if they help", Tony responded.

Tony hadn't been super excited about therapy - a few tell-alls from previous experiences in his youth had left a really bad taste in his mouth. But he'd done some research and found some... "interesting" people, and managed to find someone he thought he might be able to trust and might understand the rather special circumstances of the situation. (Seriously, what was his life where finding a therapist required someone who could deal with alien-attack-related-PTSD on top of the "generic" human stuff?!?". In the meantime, yeah - DIY panic-attack management.

Tony asked Jarvis if he knew what triggered the problem, and in a million years, Tony would never have guessed what had Loki so unsettled. A movie - granted, a good one, one he'd enjoyed himself.  Now that Tony thought about it, he wasn't entirely surprised, because yeah, after their reasonably in depth conversation way-back-when, with the shitty family history and overall insecurity - it would have been a bit of a shock.

Seconds later he had a slightly panicked demi-god in his living room. Jarvis was still talking, and Loki seemed to be calming down, gradually becoming aware of his now-not-Norwegian surroundings.

"Hey Reindeer Games," Tony figured calm and relaxed was the best way to go (hopefully not for too long, because, well - that wasn't exactly his default setting).

Loki looked at him, and said in such a lost voice, "I don't know who I'm supposed to be!",  then just collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily. And yeah, Tony could identify with that a bit. He'd been - literally - blown apart and had to remake himself - it was a work in progress. He said as much to Loki.

"You can be yourself here", Tony reassured him, "and it doesn't matter what form that takes".  Tony meant it; he was 100% done with trying to be what other people expected him to be (media BS aside). It was still a work in progress because of the old baggage and new traumas that had piled on since Afghanistan. Tony was going to make damn sure Loki got the support he needed to be able to reach that place as well.

He joined Loki on the floor, looking out at the skyline, doing his best to give off an "I'm here for you" vibe and feeling pretty sure he was sucking at it as the silence stretched on.

Until ice crystals started to form on the floor and the temperature dropped noticeably along his side. He turned to face Loki and couldn't restrain the hushed "wow" when he saw the deep blue of Loki's skin and the vibrant red of his eyes. Then he noticed the fear in those eyes and the expectation of rejection, and he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"I see you, Loki". Tony smiled - he was a smart-ass, yeah, but he was also completely serious.

Loki managed to combine an eye-roll, an exasperated sigh, and an appreciative smirk in response.

They were both completely aware that a single movie wasn't going to change the world, but a healthy shift in perspective, however minor, would never be taken lightly.

*****

Time passed.

Loki's case had been presented to the United Nations, along with every scrap of evidence Jarvis was able to discover, the power of Stark Industries Legal, and a magic user willing and able to provide reparations. Agreements were made to address the damage and to provide aid in future protections. It didn't hurt that part of that aid was the possibility of a relationship with Asgard. Loki was a skilled politician in his own right, and after a magically-facilitated back-and-forth with Frigga and Thor, Ambassadorship was on the table, and was an opportunity to make things right, improve earth's position on the galactic stage, and NOT be around Odin - a win/win/win all around. The only downside was having to head back to Asgard - however briefly - to make it official.

While his "Bros-in-arms" were away, Tony built & tweaked suits, Jarvis continued digging through Shield, and the Spy-Assassin-Twins came and went (they were pretty fun for spies, Tony had to admit - snark to rival his own).

If his military schedule allowed, Cap visited occasionally - usually when Clint & Nat were in town. They'd do pizza and movies, and sometimes Cap would spend time with Jarvis to do more in depth "future" catch-up (Jarvis could answer pretty much any question without Tony's snark, so Tony had to admit that was the better choice). Both Tony and Steve had been hit with a "baggage" clue-by-four and dealt with their initial oil-and-water-personality conversation/glow-stick-of-destiny-inspired insult-fest. While they weren't expecting to be best friends, they saw each other as individuals instead of the caricatures they'd walked into their relationship with. It was a vast improvement.

Things were going smoothly all around.

Until Jarvis uncovered HYDRA.

***

Tony hoped Thor and Loki were having a better time than he was.

Tony was tempted to reach out to Fury, but had to wait till the one-eyed pirate contacted him; the waiting was, ha - infuriating! Tony didn't envy the amount of crap the man was going to have to deal with, but considering their "ends justify the means" operating system and the fact the world's greatest threat was growing inside their supposedly "good guy" operation, yeah - he was hoping some introspection was on the horizon.

Wake up calls were a bitch, but he was glad he'd had his.

Jarvis, of course, was still working his way through the system. There was NO WAY Tony was going to NOT keep an eye on Shield-ra now, with that threat level cranked up to 20 on a scale of 1-10.

He did suddenly have a taste for calamari, though.

****

Thor and Loki were not having a better time than Tony.


“I’m gonna turn out the light, okay?” Eiji says sleepily, reaching over Ash to shut off the lamp on their nightstand.

Reluctantly, Ash grumbles and sets down his book on the bedside table, pulling off his reading glasses. He massages the bridge of his nose where they had left indentations and lays down against the pillow, feeling Eiji cuddle up against him, wrapping an arm around his waist, his soft breath ghosting over the back of Ash’s neck.

Ash’s heart swells, still not quite able to accept that he’s allowed to feel like this. He’s safe, in the arms of his love, far away from the guns and bloodshed of New York, thousands of miles across the ocean in their new apartment in Japan. It still doesn’t quite feel real. He’d always thought he would die in New York, choked by the stench of blood and smell of garbage, buried as another no-name youth killed in a meaningless gang war.

He drifts off, the arms of his love securely around him. But in his dreams, the comfort of the present bleeds away, and once more he drowns in the dark streets of New York.

He’s walking down a dark alley, surrounded by the familiar sounds of water dripping and the echo of police sirens in the distance. Ash shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket, tracing his thumb over the familiar shape of his gun. The environment and its sounds are as familiar to him as the back of his hand, yet that fails to lend to a sense of security. Night has always heightened his senses, honing them razor sharp.

Suddenly, a figure steps out from behind the corner of a nearby building, its face lit harshly by the fluorescent yellow light.

“Yo, Ash.” Arthur smiles, a sinister grin on his lips.

Ash’s blood runs cold.

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I...I killed you.” His voice shakes. He still remembers the feeling of twisting the knife into Arthur’s gut and the dead, empty expression that had stared up at him when he had peeked down from the train overpass.

“Or so you thought,” Arthur chuckles, and steps further into the light, twirling his knife between his fingers.

Before Ash can react, Arthur’s goons materialize around him and hands grab him from behind, pinning him against a wall with his arms above his head. He curses, spitting and thrashing, as one of them reaches into his pocket and tosses his gun to the side. It clatters on the pavement, outside of his reach.

He can’t move his arms or legs, held down by rough, heavy hands as Arthur comes towards him, brandishing the knife and licking his lips.

“Finally, I get to have my revenge on the little lynx who nearly bit my fingers off.”

He grabs Ash’s chin, tilting it upwards with his thumb, a sadistic glint dancing in his eyes.

Arthur’s hand begins to skim up Ash’s thigh.

His mind goes white.

 No.

—-

 Hm?

Eiji blinks open his eyes to bleary darkness. He had only been asleep for a short while, but something had woken him up.

He feels Ash’s body, tense underneath him, a garbled moan escaping his lips.
Eiji carefully wretches his arm out from underneath Ash and sits up, looking at him. His breathing is fast, eyes screwed tight, murmuring terrified, half formed words and syllables.

"Ash...” Eiji felt his heart constrict, like the wind had been knocked out of him.

It always hurt, seeing Ash in the clutches of a nightmare.

It made Eiji feel powerless, seeing Ash battling with his demons in a land he could not set foot in.
He put his hand on Ash’s bicep, shaking him gently.

“Ash, wake up!”

—-

“Arthur, what the  fuck!” He thrashes, trying to pry his arms free. “Get your hands off me, you sick fuck!”

Terror floods his system—an injection of ice water through his veins. He can feel himself starting to go numb.

His surroundings swim in front of him.

The world sounds muted and faraway to his waterlogged ears.

He can’t feel anything. It doesn’t matter. Arthur can do whatever he wants to him and it won’t matter if he can’t feel a thing.

Arthur’s voice reaches him garbled, as if underwater.

"You ain’t ever gonna be the same when I’m done with you.”

The goons holding him down laugh at him. “You got it comin’ kid,” says the one in aviator sunglasses with a pathetic, greasy-looking mustache.

Arthur’s hand skims over his thigh, pushing up the hem of his t-shirt, exposing his hip.

The rush of blood in his ears and his ragged breath are the only sounds he’s aware of, overpowering everything.

His fingers hover over Ash’s waistband, then retract. As Arthur’s hand leaves him, Ash sees him reach into his own pocket, for his knife. He leans forward to whisper in Ash’s ear, knife resting threateningly low, teasing the waistband of his jeans.

“I’m gonna cut your dick up just like you did to my fingers.”

Panic slams into Ash so hard that he wretches his hands free, cutting his knuckles on the teeth of the man he socks in the mouth who had been holding him down.

His eyes lock on Arthur, an unholy cocktail of fear and panic singing in his veins.

Adrenaline is the only thing he knows at this point. Logic is gone.

His instincts propel him and he pulls back his arm, locking eyes on Arthur’s disgusting face. His fist connects, striking Arthur square in the jaw and—

—-

 “—Aarugh!!”

Huh?

He looks around himself, drenched in sweat, and Eiji is crouching on the bed a few inches away from him, holding both hands over his nose, blood dripping onto the mattress.

The gears turn in his mind.

 Shit, Shit, Shit.

“Eiji—fuck,” Ash pulls several tissues out of the box near their bed and thrusts them toward him. “Tip your head back,” he helps Eiji position himself, a guiding hand on his back. “Yeah, like that...good.”

There were tears in Eiji’s eyes, and although he knows they’re probably involuntary from the impact, Ash still feels shame grip his heart like a vice.

He keeps his hand on Eiji’s arm, rubbing it apologetically, until the bleeding seems to slow.

A blanket of silence falls over them, neither of them speaking, the only sound between them their equally uneven breathing.

“Fuck, Eiji. I’m so fucking sorry.”

This was why Ash had been nervous when he and Eiji had begun sleeping together in the same bed. When they had lived in the condo, as much as he would have loved the feeling of sharing Eiji’s warmth and as much as Eiji would have allowed it, he had insisted on maintaining the distance between them, for his own safety, he supposed.

He’d known something like this would happen eventually.

He felt so disgusted with himself that he wanted to scream. It was over. The violence was over and here he was again, bringing it back into Eiji’s life. Polluting their happily ever after all because his mind still couldn’t let go.

He dug his nails into his scalp, a shaky sob wracking through him.

“Ash, look at me.” Eiji clasped a hand on his shoulder.

He didn’t even realize he was shaking.

“I’m okay. I know you didn’t mean to hit me on purpose.” Eiji’s tone is even, steady, as if he’s talking to a spooked animal.

“No, Eiji—you’re not fucking okay, you’re fucking bleeding!” His voice cracks with a sob. He wants nothing more than to claw his skin off, dig his nails into himself and tear it from his flesh.

“It’s my fault…” he croaks out, tears spilling free and falling down his cheeks.

Eiji must be terrified of him, or hate him. He wouldn’t be surprised if Eiji flinched away from his touch and kept his distance.

Eiji’s heart constricts painfully again, yet he finds his throat dry, at a loss for words.

 He’s just scared. It was just a dream. He wants to reach out and touch Ash, but he himself is still shaking, the bloody tissue in his hand.

 What can I do about this so he feels safe and I don’t get hurt again, Eiji thinks, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Ash, is there anything I can do better next time? So I won’t wake you up so suddenly?”

Ash remains silent.

“…I don’t know.”

His voice sounds hollow, a million miles away.

Eiji feels the weight shift on the mattress, realizing Ash has gotten up.

“I’m going to go sleep in the living room,” Ash announces, voice still raw. Before Eiji can protest, he slings the blanket over his shoulders and grabs his pillow.

“Ash wait—”

The bedroom door slams shut, Eiji’s words dying in his throat.

The spot on the bed next to him is empty, and his limbs feel heavy and cold.


It’s a week to the day he had arrived here.

A year has almost passed and he is freaking out because he has been called out to the back of the school and though he supposedly is alone with this girl he can feel the piercing stares, eyes closed and an awkward smile, ‘Those little fuckers better walk the hell away…’

“Umm… Takemichi, I was just wondering… would you like to go out?!?!”

Play dumb.

“Uh out where? ‘Cuz uh… we’re already outside?”

Too dumb.

A smack could be heard, the motion of hand slapping a forehead comes to mind, but the blonde keeps a confused and innocent face as he looks at the girl earnestly. Just a bit more and she’d likely leave in embarrassment, it would be embarrassing for both of them, but he really didn’t want to go out with her, he’d leave the first date to the actual Takemichi.

God he hoped he came back…

She looked red, Hinata Tachibana was a cute girl, one of the most popular girls at the school from what he heard, well liked, and very attractive, him getting asked out by her was something he should be proud of.

Still…

“No I- Uh I mean would you-”

Then the sweet, sweet sound of a teacher yelling at his friends who were hidden behind a bush invaded their senses, Hinata seemed to burn even more red and Takemichi just continued to look at her confused.

“Umm… well I gotta go if you still need to talk about it you can ask on monday?”

He gave her a warm smile as jogged away meeting his friends who had been caught out by the gym teacher, a charming smile, and an easy explanation got them off with a warning, but the piercing stares would not leave him.

“Sooo….”

Yamagishi had a teasing grin, and Makoto elbowed him, "What did she say?!"

Takemichi played the dense idiot, "She said she wanted to go out, I didn't really get it because we were already outside."

Takuya shook his head, hand hiding a smile, Akkun looked embarrassed for the both of them but mainly for Tachibana. Makoto and Yamagishi looked at him like he was the stupidest man alive, then looked at one another doing that weird silent communication thing, simultaneously they spoke, "You are an idiot."

A shocked and terrified look crossed the blonde's face, "I am deeply offended and slightly nauseous that

you

 would say something like that to me."

Offended sounds escaped them as the three of them fell into a play fight that might have ended up with one of them getting their hand bitten.

Takuya laughed and Akkun rolled his eyes, shaking his head as if done with them though the smile evident on his face showed his amusement.

.

.

.

"So… how are you doing? There's only a day until the deadline, what'll you do if he doesn't come back?"

The blonde laid on the roof of his house. Takuya had stayed with him worried he would do something drastic, he might have felt the clawing feeling of… something.

"I don't know… I kind of really hoped that I would disappear or something, but I kind of hoped it would take me when I had least expected it. It would hurt less you know, but now… I don't know, I'd like to say I've got it all figured out but most likely I'll throw up, have a panic attack and then fall asleep hoping this was just like a real long coma dream. I mean I lost everything.
Everything.
 Takuya… I just don't know."

Takuya bit his lip before taking in a breath, "If it makes you feel any better, if you're still here the day after tomorrow, I'mma stick with you. You're just as much my friend as Takemichi was."

With those words he left.

.

.

.

It was 3 minutes before midnight.

3 minutes before January 1st.

3 minutes before he would likely have to accept that yeah he was dead, and yeah he would never see his family ever again, and yeah he still had to live for however long this body would last, because unfortunately as he had said he was too much of a pussy to take himself out.

And because maybe he wanted to live…

He wanted to be…

The alarm on his phone rang.

It was silent and nothing had happened.

"Shit."

He laid on the floor he felt dizzy and light, yet at the same time heavy because now he had to take charge again. God… he really was going to throw up.

.

.

After emptying out his stomach he walked out of his house in an effort to escape the feeling of dread and emptiness. He was truthful with Takuya. He had no idea what he was going to do, this was life, not just the main character from a delinquent manga. He had a life, he had dreams and aspirations and family and duty, he had money and independence and here he was again, a child.

A neglected child for sure, but 14 again.

Sighing as he snuck into a 7/11, buying chips, he gave a weak smile to the cashier who, like a zombie, stared at him unseeingly, walking out he opened the beer he had stolen.

Sticking a tongue out he sat heavily on the empty park bench, "I forgot beer tastes like shit…"

He leaned back, head snuggled into a balck hoodie he pondered the meaning of his existence for maybe a moment or two, before hearing the rumbling sounds of a murder of motorcysles looking over he saw the flapping wings of a black jackets.

He felt sick.

He wished he had stayed home.

Standing he left the park, but not before gaining the attention of some of it’s more unruly members after all not all of them could be admirable delinquents with strong morals and even stronger wills, some were just bullies using the Toman name to throw their weight around in their own small ponds.

It was a shit pull though, that they chose to rough up a half depressed and half insane individual.

Standing over the faces of beaten up Toman members, a crying Takemichi wiped his nose, “God why… what the hell was this shit, fucking delinquents… fuck I’m a delinquent too.”

He left them like that, murmuring all the way he ran, not wanting to deal with them anymore. They would have gone after him, but had to hurry back, but their pride was hurt and a plan was forming. Their bruised and roughed up expressions pulled some raised brows, but they ignored it or bowed depending on who it was from, a fanged and long haired teen laughed at the sight of them.

“You get your asses beat by that scrawny piss-haired brat?!”

Baji had never had a delicate bone in his body, the boys tensed, before nodding, the teen cackled, “Man either you guys are weak as shit or he was strong as fuck either way… next time don’t fucking lose.”

They tensed necks aching as they kept their bow, the biggest of them was kicked, but he barely let a sound fall as his legs wobbled in an effort to keep him up, soon enough Baji left them to it.

The boy tried to regain his breath, “We gotta kill that guy.”

Truly it was embarrassing, after all they are the ones who picked a fight thinking it would be an easy mark.

.

.

.

At home Takemichi grumbled, eyes blurry with tears and dull as though they could see nothing, “Fuuuuuuck… this body has shit alcohol tolerance…” he bumped into the doorframe and opened up the fridge taking out a water bottle, the sight of senbei on the counter made his stomach grumble, “Aw~ maaan~... what am I gonna do, I’m so goddamn short, and scrawny in this body even after eating healthy and working out…. I FUCKING WORKED OUT FOR THIS GUY AND HE DIdn’t even have the decency to come back…”

He sniffled as he fell to the ground and cried like a child, like the child he was.

“Mamá… mamá perdóname… perdón…”

He fell asleep on the kitchen floor, half eaten senbei gripped in his hand, as he snored snot and tears drying on his red face.

.

Takuya found him in a supremely embarrassing position, sighing as he put the soup on the counter as he squatted before the other boy.

He was an ugly sight. Poking at the other cheek the boy opened up crusted eyes, before they closed again face grimacing in pain and regret, “The hell happened to you?”

The other boy grumbled unwilling to speak much less look at the boy, finally though he looked up, his nosy and cheek had a nasty bruise and blood was smeared across his face, “I’m still here, I threw up, left in the middle of the night, stole beer, got beaten up, ran away and then fell asleep while eating senbei.”

“That’s kinda pathetic man.”

Renewed tears escaped him as he grunted and sat himself up, “I knooooow~, but I panicked and honestly I should’ve stayed home, but honestly I didn’t want to contemplate my existence and stuff…”

Takuya stared at him eyes soft and kind, and pulled the bag full of food down, nudging it towards him, “I brought sustenance, you can tell me what you think or we can eat in silence…”

Rubbing his eyes he gave the other a watery smile, “Sorry, sorry, here I am a whole 19 year old, crying to a kid…”

Puffing out his cheeks, “I’m fourteen you know.”

“Still a kid man, you’ll get it when you're older, even 17 year old's look like babies to me.”


Getting back to Solitude was a challenge. Once we were clear of the Embassy grounds, we found a nice, quiet spot for me to squat down and push as much of the troll's mess out of my ass as I was able; I conjured up a still-energetic Jex to help with cleanup as well. Fortunately, we were not followed and were able to find our way to the road and trudged back toward Solitude.

I wished I'd smuggled in some warmer clothes, I was shivering all the way back. Dravos, now once again disguised as an olive-skinned Imperial, hugged me close to his side and I conjured up some fire in my hands to try and keep warm. Jex even bumped his flank against my hip in an effort to keep the chill out. When we approached the gates, the guards on duty looked us over and saw me shivering in the torchlight.

“What happened to you lot?” he asked.

“My friend here lost his cloak, unfortunately,” Dravos said, rubbing his hand over my side. “Doing our best to keep him warm until we can get to an inn.”

“Well, Winking Skeever's probably got rooms,” the guard said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. Then I saw him twitch his nose. “Smells like you were out having a good time, huh?”

I felt my cheeks warm up in spite of the nighttime chill. “Yes, it's been a very...eventful night.”

“I'll bet,” the guard said and walked over to me. “How many men did you take, Argonian? I can smell the cum on you from here.”

“Oh, uh...” I flushed again and the guard laughed.

He turned toward Dravos and asked, “Hope you don't mind if me and some of the boys take turns keeping your friend warm?”

“Provided he's willing,” Dravos said and moved a hand down to squeeze my ass. “He has had a long night.”

“Tempting though it is, I should really go get some sleep,” I said. Normally, I wasn't one to turn down a good time, but I was sore from dealing with that troll and suddenly very tired on top of everything else. “Maybe tomorrow if I'm free?”

“I'll hold you to that,” the guard said and gave my ass a swat as he let us pass through the gate. It was sorely tempting, but I had to deliver the goods first.

We made it back to the Winking Skeever and crept up toward the rooms we had rented, sneaking in and closing the door as quietly as possible so as not to wake any of our companions. I pulled the folders out of my shirt and handed them to Dravos, who looked at them curiously.

“Hold on to those,” I said quietly. “They won't be able to find them if you have them.”

Dravos smirked and nodded once, disappearing in a flash of violet light. I started to strip out of my clothes when I heard rustling on one of the beds nearby. Enough moonlight was shining down through the window for me to get a glimpse of pale, Nordic skin and long, dark hair. I saw Kai lift a hand to stifle a yawn and turn his head toward me.

“Keeran?”

“Yeah, I'm back,” I said. “I got what we need.”

“Good.”

He took hold of my wrist and tugged me right over to the bed; I didn't resist. Kai made room for me under the blankets and I eagerly snuggled up against him, starved for warmth after that trek through the chilly night. My people were not made for these frigid conditions. Kai wrapped his arms around me and rolled me onto my back, sliding himself over top of me and between my legs. I wrapped my legs around his waist and the head of his cock found my sore pucker as if he'd been waiting for me all night. He slid into me with ease and pressed his mouth hard to mine to stifle a nascent cry of pleasure.

I was still sore from that troll, but Kai was someone who could have it whenever he wanted it. Right now, he wanted it badly and so did I.

The bed creaked lightly under us as Kai rolled his hips and my legs squeezed around his waist, my hands gripping at his naked back. I panted against his ear and felt him bury his face into my neck, his lips pressing a line down the side of my neck to my shoulder. I heard rustling in the bed on the other side of the room, but paid it no mind. I just squeezed my eyes shut and held tight to my loving housecarl as he took me.

And after so long without release, I sprayed my load between us, making a mess of Kai's belly. With a deep-chested groan of effort, he repaid me, flooding my already-sundered guts with his own seed. He panted heavily and lifted his head, pushing his hair back with one hand. By the pale moonlight coming in through the window, I saw him grin.

“Happy to have you back in one piece, Thane,” he said.

“So are the rest of us,” Lydia's sleepy voice said on the other side of the room. “Save the noise for the morning, please?”

“Heh, sorry,” I said and felt something tugging at my arm. I looked over to see Jex still sitting patiently at the bedside, cocking his head and panting expectantly. “All right, all right, get up here and clean us up...”

* * *

With the morning came relief and the sudden realization that the bed was far too small to comfortably accommodate myself, Kai and Jex. I imagine this is what it was like having an actual dog. I gently nudged myself out from under the four-legged Daedra and sat up, groaning a bit. Inigo and Lydia had fallen right back to sleep on the other side of the room. I felt the bed shifting and a pair of arms slid around my middle from behind. Kai peppered my neck with kisses by way of 'good morning', sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

“Good morning to you too,” I said and leaned back into him. He wordlessly tightened his arms around my middle. “Anything happen while I was gone.”

“All quiet here,” Kai said, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Been better,” I sighed. “May as well go wake everyone up, we need to figure out a plan.”

“Right,” Kai let go with clear reluctance and just then, the door cracked open and Hjoromir poked his head in, sagging with relief when he saw me. He held up a finger and retreated again, I assume to get the others.

At least everyone else remembered to wake up early. It wasn't long before the rest of my companions had all filed in, everyone in various states of undress. It felt more like another orgy was about to break out than a discussion on our attempted espionage against the Aldmeri Dominion. Tyr had also stopped in under the guise of a regular civilian to check in on us and sidled into the room, shutting the door so we could begin our talks in peace.

I relayed everything that had happened in the Embassy with some help from Dravos. He calmly explained that he'd been pulled aside by guards and accused of snooping around, to which he repeatedly replied that he had no idea what they were talking about. He and Malborn had been dragged off toward the dungeons, where they'd assumed the “spy” had been hiding.

“So, what does this mean for us?” Ghoro asked. “Do we need to leave Solitude?”

“Probably not the best idea,” Tyr said. “You all leaving the Embassy the morning after a break-in? They'll be staking out the road for anyone who looks even a little bit suspicious. They'll have eyes on the docks, too, so leaving by boat is just as risky.”

“So stay in the city walls and act like everything is normal?” Lydia asked, sounding very skeptical.

“For at least a few days,” Tyr replied. “The only one who would be in any trouble is Keeran if they're looking for an Argonian, and he's hardly the only one in the city. It's not like they have any proof.”

I sighed and pinched my eyes shut. “Those guards saw us come back in last night. If anyone asks guards from the night shift, they'll give me up.”

“I'll deal with it,” Tyr said, his expression stern. “How many were there?”

“Just one that I saw. He propositioned me,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “What are you going to do?”

Tyr smirked a bit, “Gently ask some questions about last night and make sure everyone's story stays straight.”

“All right,” I sighed, rubbing my hands over my face. I didn't like the idea of staying, but Tyr knew the Dominion better than we did. I trusted him. “As for the information I found, probably best if Dravos keeps that in his little pocket of Oblivion for the time being. The Thalmor won't be able to find it there and it's honestly safer if no one else looks at those files until we're well outside the city walls.”

“If they're after this old man in Riften, shouldn't we try and get to him first?” Hjoromir pointed out. “If they're after him, he's in danger.”

“That prisoner we rescued hadn't broken yet,” I said. “They seemed to think he knew something, but whatever he does know, he didn't tell them. That should buy us some time, we just need to be smart about our movements.”

“Any chance we could get a message back to, uh, our friend?” Inigo asked, looking at Tyr and lowering his ears apologetically. “Sorry, probably best if you don't know who that is...”

“No offense taken,” Tyr said and rubbed his chin. “Might be safe to send a coded letter out with a courier. In the meantime, I would stay put for two or three days.”

“What are we going to do in the meantime?” Inigo asked, his ears perking right back up.

I just gave my friend half-smile, “Inigo, what else do we ever do with our free time?”

* * *
Tyr had very handily dealt with the issue concerning the night guard, seeding some story about how I was a prostitute hired by one of the Legion officers at Castle Dour and he was investigating as the Legion officially disapproved of such behavior. But the city guard had no such restrictions, so that gave them plenty of freedom to hire me out.

Only problem was that public nudity was apparently frowned upon in Solitude. The guards “hauled me in” and I found myself locked in some stocks in the dungeon of Castle Dour. I was stuck there until someone came to “pay my bounty”. The guards on duty left me there for all to see, guardsmen and Legionnaires alike lining up to have a turn at my ass, my already-sore backside left gaping and raw, a constant trickle of seed dribbling from me. Others lined up to use my mouth, leaving a mess on my face more often than not.

It was nice to have things largely back to normal after sneaking around like a spy.

Eventually Tyr came and “rescued” me from my predicament with a set of clothes in hand. I washed up and walked out of the dungeon, clothed and carrying a sizable sack of gold.

“I thought the Legion disapproved of that sort of thing,” I said.

“Officially,” he clarified, giving me a sly half-grin. “You know how I feel about that rule. And speaking of official, I've been thinking. Do you think your merry band of dragon slayers has room enough for one more?”

I perked up at that, “I'd be happy to have you along, but would you be able to get away from your post here?”

“General Tullius was at Helgen too,” Tyr said. “I think he'd agree that having a task force to deal with the dragon threat would be a good thing. And since the Stormcloaks already have a representative in your ranks, I think he'd want to match that for fear of looking bad in the eyes of the people. If he looks like he's putting politics ahead of people's safety, it would only strengthen Ulfric's cause.”

I smirked and asked, “So you only broke me out of jail to talk business, huh?”

“No, I fully intend to take you back to the inn and have my way with you for a bit,” Tyr said and I felt his hand squeeze down on my backside. “We have some time, we may as well make the most of it, right?”

Hard to argue with that logic. We went back to the Winking Skeever to make the most out of those rooms, and as sore as my backside was from the treatment it had gotten the last few days, Tyr was kind enough to focus on my mouth instead.  And by that I mean he laid back on one of the beds and let me pleasure him at my leisure. He ran his fingers through my crest and I felt his fingertips brush over the old scar on the back of my skull. I had barely been aware of that since I could start using magic again without blinding headaches. I thought back to when Tyr and his men hired me in Helgen, I received that message from Inigo and felt over the scar while sitting in that tavern.

Now we were both in a city on the other side of Skyrim doing the same thing. Was I suddenly going to get a message from my missing uncle before we left? Probably too much to hope for. For now, I could just enjoy being a whore again. A very important whore, but a whore nonetheless.

I bobbed my head between Tyr's legs until the Imperial shuddered and drew his legs up, holding my head steady to feed me a fresh load of seed. I gulped him down hungrily and pulled my head back with a gasp to see him smiling down at me.

“You are a man of many talents, my friend,” he sighed, folding his arms behind his head.

“I find it good to be versatile,” I said as I crawled over him and straddled his waist. “It's important to have a lot of skills at your disposal if you're going to do the adventuring thing, you know?”

“Better to wiggle your ass than brandish your sword?” Tyr asked with a hearty slap to my naked backside.

“Well, I can do that too, just in a different fashion,” I teased and leaned forward, laying over him. “Speaking of which, is there anything I can do to further convince dear old General Tullius that making you part of my 'dragon task force' is a good idea?”

“If you're thinking along that route, you may want to stop,” Tyr said dryly. “General Tullius doesn't exactly fancy other men as far as I'm aware. He went to that bath house near the Blue Palace and was apparently put off by the men there propositioning him.”

“There's a bath house?” I asked, perking up.

“Keeran, please focus.”

“Right, sorry,” I muttered. “Fine, I guess I can be diplomatic and remain clothed.”

“I appreciate it. Let's go get cleaned up and have a word with him, shall we?”

* * *
Freshly bathed and dressed, I followed Tyr to Castle Dour after we had rounded up Kai, Inigo and Lydia. Tyr claimed that having both Thanes of Whiterun present would probably help sway the General's decision. Inigo didn't much like it, but I could tell he was more amenable to meeting with Tullius given his severe dislike of everything even remotely related to Windhelm. As Tyr led us through the front doors, he leaned over to whisper to me.

“I thought being a Thane was an honorary title,” he muttered.

“Yeah, so did I,” I whispered back. “Just be polite and follow Tyr's lead. We can always turn on the charm if need be.”

“Hard for you to do that with your pants on, my friend,” Inigo said, earning some barely-constrained snickering from Kai.

Tyr turned his head to shush us as he led the four of us back to an office where we were met by an older Imperial man in full Legion regalia. He looked us both over, his expression clearly skeptical. Whether that was just because that was just because he had to be skeptical or because of other reasons, I couldn't immediately tell. I'd at least give him the benefit of the doubt – Tyr clearly respected him.

“Thanes Keeran-Rei and Inigo, I presume?” he asked. “I am General Tullius, military governor for Skyrim. You have my thanks for aiding Captain Tyronius at Helgen.”

“I had the pleasure of meeting him before the incident at Helgen occurred,” I said, giving Tyr a little half-smile and did my best not to emphasize the word 'pleasure' too much. “I consider him a good friend.”

“And from what he tells me, the feeling is clearly mutual,” Tullius said and took a few steps forward. “He's also told me about your efforts about the dragons, so I'll ask plainly – what can the Legion do to assist you in that endeavor?”

Straight and to the point – very Legion-like. He didn't seem like the type to put politics ahead of the people's safety.

“Captain Tyronius has asked to join me, so I would like him to accompany us for the time being,” I said. “At the moment, we're mostly collecting information on why and how the dragons are returning. We have a lead or two, but nothing entirely solid yet.”

Tullius simply nodded and rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. “I see. Is there any information you're able to share with us?”

“Nothing useful,” Inigo said.

He met my eye and then Inigo's and considered that for a moment, as if trying to seek out the lie. I wasn't about to tell him that I'd broken into the Thalmor Embassy and stolen secret files from the First Emissary's own office. After a moment, he nodded his head slowly.

“Well, hopefully that will change,” he said.

“There is one other thing I feel I should share in the interest of honesty,” I added. “Ulfric Stormcloak has committed one of his own men to my group in the interest of stopping the dragons.”

Tullius' eyebrows went up at that and he turned toward Tyr. “Captain, is this true?”

“It is, sir,” Tyr said. “I've confirmed that a Stormcloak officer is present here in the city in Thane Keeran's company for that express purpose.”

Tullius nodded again, “Very well. I appreciate your honesty, Thane. I'll allow Captain Tyronius to travel with you for the purpose of investigating and dealing with the dragon threat as a representative of the Imperial Legion. Captain, I'll expect regular progress reports from you.”

“Yes, sir,” Tyr said and snapped to a salute.

“Good. If there's nothing else, I have a meeting with the Jarl soon, I should get over to the Blue Palace. Best of luck to all of you.”

With that, Tullius left flanked by two soldiers, one of whom looked at me curiously and then suddenly blushed before hurrying off after the General; it was very tempting to ask him how he enjoyed his time in the dungeon, but there was no point in getting the poor bastard in trouble. I exhaled once everyone was gone and turned to look at the others.

“Well, that was surprisingly easy and painless,” I said.

“Yes, to be honest, I was expecting a bit more resistance,” Inigo added.

“The General's a very busy man and he takes his position very seriously,” Tyr said. “Though I fully expect he'll try to arrest Soren as soon as the opportunity presents itself.”

I sighed, “Great. Well, I think we'll be okay for now. And if we're going to stay in the city for another day or two, maybe we can go visit that bathhouse you mentioned earlier...?”

Everyone perked up at that and Tyr turned toward Lydia to give her an apologetic look. “Yes, but it's a 'men's only' bathhouse, if you get my meaning...”

Lydia pouted, “Damn. All right, go have fun. I'll go track down and Soren and make sure he hasn't been arrested.”

We exited Castle Dour and parted ways with Lydia, following Tyr in the direction of the Blue Palace. The entrance to the bathhouse was discreetly tucked away in an alley, giving the whole affair a rather scandalous feel. We entered a finely-decorated reception area and a handsome Nord man standing at the counter requested that we pay a small entry fee before going inside.

“And please remember that we have a no clothing policy in the bathing area proper,” he said, scooping up the gold we laid out on the counter. “Sexual activity is allowed as well provided that all parties consent, so if anyone starts getting pushy with you, please speak with one of the attendants.”

“I like this place already,” I said and followed the others into the next room where everyone disrobed and put up their weapons and armor. “How long has this been here?”

“Quite a while, apparently,” Tyr said, now completely naked. “Come on, I think you'll like what they have going on here.”

Kai slipped his arm around my waist and we followed eagerly, walking through the next door and into a gorgeous room with a marble balcony and high ceiling that let sunlight stream in from windows set up high. Down below I could hear a gentle murmur of indistinct voices and the splashing of water. The room we entered ended at a balcony that overlooked a huge bathing room with a large pool in the center of the room where men were lounging and swimming around. Others walked around the edge of the pool stark naked and I could just make two men in an alcove having a bit of fun with each other.

“Seems like our sort of place,” Kai said as he moved his hand down to cup my naked backside. “Surprised there isn't anything like it in Whiterun.”

“There's the bath chambers in Dragonsreach,” I pointed out.

“Mmm, not quite the same,” Kai said, giving my ass a squeeze as we descended the fine marble steps into the chamber. “You may have to do something with all that gold you're making, Thane.”

“Don't tempt me, you know I'll do it,” I said and turned to grin at my faithful housecarl. Kai simply smirked and tightened his grip on my ass. He used that grip to tug me in close and kissed me firmly on the mouth. I draped my arms around his neck and returned the kiss in earnest, hearing a few delighted chuckles echo through the chamber as the other patrons were no doubt enjoying the show.

“Well, don't you two make a lovely pair,” a deep and friendly voice said from somewhere to my left.

I turned to see an impressively naked and handsome Nord man leaning against the nearby wall. He had long, dark blond hair hanging down past his shoulders and a wonderfully long and thick cock hanging between his powerful thighs. He looked like a character pulled straight out of an erotic story. Then again, a good number of the Nord men I've fucked could be described that way.

“I take you two are new here?” he asked, stepping forward and giving us both approving looks. “I'd love to give you both a tour if you're willing.”

“Oh, we most certainly are, isn't that right, Keeran?” Kai asked and punctuated the question with a sharp swat to my ass. I couldn't help but giggle and stumble toward the towering dream of a Nord.

“We most certainly are,” I said and laid my hands over that rippling chest. Oh, there was no way he could be real. “Where does the tour start?”

“Down there,” the big man said, nodding toward his waist.

“I was hoping you'd say that,” I said and immediately dropped to my knees, grasping that heavy prick and stroking it firmly. Kai playfully nudged his own against my cheek and I reached up to occupy my other hand with his, working the two well-hung Nords until they were both good and stiff.

Past my new friend, I could see Inigo chatting merrily with two other men, another Nord and a Redguard, both of whom were getting a nice feel of Inigo's fur. Tyr had disappeared from view, but I could only imagine he had found someone to play with as well. With my own playmates now stiff and waiting, I went to put my mouth to work. I took the new fellow first and he groaned appreciatively as I slid my mouth down over his shaft, bucking his hips toward me in response.

“He's very good, isn't he?” I heard Kai ask.

“Oh, he is excellent,” the Nord groaned and I pulled off him with a wet pop, grinning up at the towering man before turning my attention to Kai. I hadn't gone down on him very far when a third member was brushing against the side of my head.

“Room for any more?” I heard a voice ask above me. I pulled back from Kai's cock long enough to voice an affirmative and went right back down on him.

Within moments, I was surrounded. Two more men approached and I found myself in the center of a circle of swollen, throbbing pricks, working my hands and mouth around to make sure each and every one of them received some attention. Between everyone's legs, I could see Inigo bouncing on the Redguard's cock while the Nord pumped into his mouth. Lucky him.

At one point, my new friends must have decided that I was getting uncomfortable being on my knees and one of them laid down, pulling me over to straddle his lap and lined his spit-shined cock up under my tail to press into me. I slid onto the Nord with a happy groan and another of the newcomers slipped right back into my open mouth the moment the opportunity presented itself. Each of my hands grasped another length of needy manhood as I was set to bouncing, dribbles of precum slicking my palms and wrists. Before long, those dribbles turned into pearly ropes of seed splattering against my arms and into my mouth.

Yeah, I think I could stand to follow Tyr's advice. Staying in Solitude for a bit seemed like a good idea...


“You don’t even know what the positions are and you’re trying out for the team?”

Yoongi can’t really believe that it’s happening, either. It was a spur-of-the-moment idea that he never thought would actually come to fruition. He is surprised that Jin and Namjoon even allowed him to try out in the first place. They care a lot about his and the other boys’ safety and, to be honest, they tend to worry over nothing most of the time, so it really came as a surprise when they decided to let him play a sport this dangerous. He doubts that he’ll make the team anyway, but it’ll be fun to try.

Wait, fun? Yoongi has never thought about this kinds of situations as fun before. He’s always thought that auditioning, trying out, or having to show off his skills in any way is completely nerve-racking and terrifying, but now he thinks this could be fun? Strange, he thinks.

Right now, the coach is yelling at him. It’s pretty understandable, too. He was asked which positions he was hoping to get, and Yoongi responded by saying the he has no idea what the options are. Understandably, the coach seems somewhere between shocked and furious. If Yoongi were the coach, he would be yelling at himself, too, so he doesn’t take it personally. This is a pretty weird situation, after all.

Yoongi was asked to wear shorts and a loose-fitting t-shirt for the tryouts. He doesn’t normally wear shorts or short-sleeved shirts because more of his body gets exposed to the heat or cold that way and it gets to be too uncomfortable for him. The only times he ever wears clothes like that are when it’s way too hot not to, and during the annual family beach trip.

He’s really looking forward to that this year. It’ll be his last before he goes off to college. The thought makes him a bit nostalgic.

“Yes, sir,” Yoongi responds. He knows better than to say anything that will risk the coach getting even more upset at him. The yelling doesn’t bother him much today, but he definitely doesn’t like to be screamed at. If he were feeling any more sensitive at the moment, he might have had a meltdown already, but he’s feeling okay today. He’s feeling confident. “I just wanted to try out.”

He hears some of the other boys laughing at him, but he tries not to pay attention to it even though the noise makes his ears burn in embarrassment. He isn’t sure why they are laughing. Did he say something weird?

The coach glares at him as if inspecting him. Then he eventually says, “You’re a weird one, Min Yoongi. If you want to try out, be my guest. Just make sure you can keep up.” He seems to get an idea. “Say, what are you good at? What makes you think I’ll choose you for my team?”

Yoongi has thought about it for a while. If he wants to join the team, he has to be especially talented in some way. There are guys that can throw the ball extremely far, run incredibly fast, or tackle the opposing team’s players. He’s thought about what he’s good at and he knows what it is by now.

“I’m very precise, sir,” he says. The coach seems inquisitive, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. He hears the other boys muttering amongst themselves, but he knows what the reason is: it’s a strange answer. Almost everything Yoongi does is strange to other people. He knows that his autism makes him act differently than most people do, but he doesn’t mind. He’s never really had a desire to fit in, which helps give him some peace of mind.

“You’re going to have to demonstrate that for me, boy,” the coach says. “You do realize that you still have to complete the same tasks as everyone else, right? You still have to run, throw, and kick your heart out.”

The wording doesn’t really make sense, but Yoongi gets the idea. He nods, saying, “I do. I’ll try my best.” The coach says nothing more, walking away from Yoongi as he blows the whistle to get the other boys to pay attention.

He explains that tryouts will take anywhere from one to two hours and that it will be very physically demanding. Yoongi sees a water cooler by the sidelines, so he knows he’ll be okay as long as he can get a water break at some point. He isn’t sure what to expect, but he’s a bit excited.

The first assessment (as Yoongi likes to think of it) is sprinting. The coach lets them stretch for a few minutes before they are to line up on one end of the field and get prepare to sprint all the way to the end and back while the coach times them.

The rest of the boys seem to know exactly how to position themselves to start, but Yoongi just stands there. He isn’t a very fast runner, so he knows he won’t do very well in this part. The boys who are slightly crouched with their hands on the ground as they prepare to sprint give him weird looks. It’s probably because he’s just standing there, he thinks. Maybe he should do what they’re doing and—

Before Yoongi can contemplate his positioning any further, the coach blows the whistle and the boys start running. It takes Yoongi a second longer to start running since he wasn’t prepared, but it’s not like it matters. He knows he’s coming in last place anyway.

He runs as quickly as his body will allow him, but that still isn’t much compared to the others’ sprinting. He sees one boy who is leaps and bounds ahead of everyone else and it makes him feel even more incompetent. But Yoongi isn’t going to allow himself to be discouraged. He knows where his strengths lie, and sprinting just isn’t it.

Yoongi finishes last, as expected, and tries desperately to catch his breath. He rests his palms on his knees, bending over slightly in an attempt to cool down. He sees sweat drip from his face and he wonders if he should be this sweaty after running only two hundred yards.

“43.1 seconds, Min,” the coach says, pressing his stopwatch. He doesn’t look impressed, but Yoongi isn’t surprised. He isn’t a runner. In fact, he hardly ever runs. It’s partially because Hoseok isn’t allowed to run very much so he doesn’t want his brother to feel left out, and it’s also partially because he doesn’t enjoy running in the first place. “That’s a new record low. Congratulations.”

It doesn’t bother Yoongi. Well, it kind of does. He doesn’t like that this adult man is being so cruel towards a teenage boy who is just trying his best, but he knows better than to voice his opinion right now. Besides, he’s breathing too heavily to say anything.

“Wang,” the coach says. “18.6 seconds. Even better than last year.” It looks like he’s referring to the boy who finished first and was incredibly far ahead of his competition.

“Wang...” Why does that name sound so familiar? Then it hits him: that’s Taehyung’s guy. Jackson Wang who is in Taehyung’s chemistry class and looks like an athlete. Yoongi didn’t receive much about Jackson’s physical appearance other than “he’s so hot, hyung,” but he knows this is him. It couldn’t be anyone else.

Yoongi has a new objective: talk to Jackson. That’s much easier said than done, especially since Yoongi has zero social skills and Jackson seems to be incredibly popular (he’s already high-giving the other boys, so he must know everyone really well), but he’s going to do it for Taehyung.

He just needs to find an opportunity to talk to him.

The next assessment is kicking. Yoongi isn’t really sure how far or how high he can kick a ball since he’s never really tried before, but he doesn’t think he’ll be as bad as he was with the sprinting.

Well, he isn’t very good at kicking, either. Every time he thinks he’s kicking the ball as far as he possibly can, it always ends up a few feet shorter than the others’. Yoongi is starting to get a bit discouraged.

Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. He should have never tried out. It was a stupid idea to begin with. Who was Yoongi to think he could make it on the football team even though he’d never played a game of football in his life, much less known anything about the sport itself?

He goes to retrieve his ball and comes back to his original position, but he just stands there idly. The other boys have so much athletic ability and Yoongi is just...there. He’s obviously the odd one out. Even the boys who are going to be cut from the team are probably doing better than him right now.

Why did he ever think this was a good idea?

As Yoongi begins to put himself down more and more, he eventually sits down on the ground. Feeling the grass beneath his fingers helps to ground him a bit despite the yelling of the other boys and the intensity of his emotions. He briefly wonders what life would be like if he were like the rest of the boys at his school. Would he be happier? Would he make the football team? Would his brothers still love him?

He is snapped out of his thoughts when a hand touches his shoulder. Yoongi reacts immediately, turning around with wide eyes. His immediate thought is that it is the coach coming to scold him for sitting down in the middle of the assessment. Much to Yoongi’s surprise, it turns out to be Jackson Wang.

“What are you doing on the ground?” he asks. He has a smile on his face. It seems genuine, but Yoongi isn’t the best at reading emotions. Maybe if he were better at it, he would be able to help Taehyung out more. “We’re in the middle of assessments.”

It takes Yoongi a moment to respond due to the ringing in his ears. It’s too noisy, but being able to focus on Jackson and his words is helping to distract him. “Sorry,” Yoongi mutters. “I was just...overwhelmed. I needed a minute.”

Jackson nods. It seems like he understands. At least, that’s what it seems like to Yoongi. “I get it,” he says. “This segment’s about over, though. We’re supposed to try passing next. Do you wanna be my partner for that?”

It’s a bit ironic that Jackson keeps pairing himself up with Yoongi and his brothers, but it’s not like Yoongi is in much of a position to refuse right now. It’s not like he wants to be put with any of the other boys that were laughing at him earlier. Besides, he finally has the perfect opportunity to get some information for Taehyung.

“Sure,” Yoongi says, acting like it isn’t a big deal even though he is freaking out on the inside. “You’re Jackson Wang, right?”

“Yeah,” he says. “How’d you know?”

Yoongi hopes he isn’t being too obvious. To be fair, he only knew once the coach said his name. Taehyung barely gave him a description of his physical appearance, so it’s not like he had much to go off of. “Um, the coach was praising you a lot earlier. You had the fastest sprinting time.”

“Oh, right,” Jackson laughs. “And you’re Yoongi. Min Yoongi, right?” Yoongi nods. He has a feeling of why Jackson knows his name, but he’s too embarrassed to suggest it himself. “The coach was kinda berating you earlier. Sorry about that, man. He’s always like that, though. Don’t take it personally.”

Yoongi already got that feeling, but it’s nice to have it confirmed by someone else. “How do you know?” he asks. “Do you know him?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jackson says as if he had forgotten something. “I’ve been on the football team since my freshman year. Hopefully, this’ll be my third year. Are you a freshman?”

Yoongi flushes at the question. He isn’t sure whether he is embarrassed or insulted. Probably both, he thinks. Yeah, he’s shorter than most of the kids his age, but that doesn’t mean he’s a freshman. “I’m a senior,” he murmurs, looking at the ground.

If this is Jackson’s third year, then that means he’s a junior. So Hoseok’s age, basically. It’s a bit of an age gap, Yoongi thinks, but at least Jackson isn’t a senior. That would be a bit much.

“Oh, sorry man,” Jackson apologizes with a laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just asking since I haven’t seen you at tryouts before. Do you just want a change of pace?”

“Something like that,” Yoongi says. It looks like the others are getting ready to transition from kicking to passing, so he thinks this is a perfect time to sneak in the question that has been lingering in his mind for a while now. “By the way, do you happen to know Kim Taehyung?”

For some reason, Jackson looks less happy than he was a moment ago. He seems more guarded. But maybe it’s just Yoongi reading too much into things. “Yeah, he’s my partner for this chemistry project,” he says. “Why?”

“He’s my brother,” Yoongi says. Jackson looks surprised. They do have different last names, after all, and they don’t really look alike, either. It makes sense that he would be surprised. Most kids aren’t adopted, Yoongi reminds himself. “I was just asking because he seems really happy to be working on that project with you.”

Something glimmers in Jackson’s eyes. “Oh, really?” he asks, sounding amused. “That’s good to hear. We’ve only met up once after school, but I’m looking forward to getting to know him some more.”

Yoongi has successfully completed Operation: G.I.F.T. (Get Info For Taehyung).


Shall I Compare Thee

Technically speaking Anakin is fine. The medical droid on board has been very clear on this - the bruises scattered here and there on his tan body are an unpleasant affair but routine after two years at war and the bulge on his neck, where the dart pierced the skin, will reduce in a matter of days even without the application of bacta. The effect of the poison is a whole other story.

"Well, it could be worse" Ahsoka decides with a cheerful voice and though she sounds and feels sincere, it's evident what she's trying to do.

Obi-Wan takes his eyes off the sandy-haired boy beyond the glass to focus on his grand-padawan with a dark glance that he hopes convey exactly his reluctance. "Your Master has been shot with a poisonous serum that is obviously tampering with his ordinarily faulty brain-to-mouth filter, which is causing him to ramble on and on about me in un inappropriate manner for a Jedi, and you honestly think it couldn't get any worse" he says anyway, just to make sure that the young Togruta is actually conscious of the situation, tone loaded with a mix of doubt and sarcasm.

In all fairness, Ahsoka really seems to give it a thought and the fact that she doesn't retract her statement is testament to how Anakin has rubbed off his sometimes senseless optmism on her. "Think about it, Master," she starts, resembling her real mentor even more so, "we could be at the Temple and someone else could hear him."

It goes without saying that the someone she's referring to is any member of the Jedi Order or worse the High Council. That would be a disaster. Fortunately they have still many hours - around twenty-six - to arrive on Coruscant and with the just amount of providential help from the Force Anakin will be truly fine by then.

Obi-Wan returns with the attention to a bare-chested Anakin, regretting to not have insisted more on letting him go of his inclination for partial nudity. With a hum he concedes Ahsoka's a point.

"You should see him in action, my little friend" Anakin is saying, eyes bright with enthusiasm and childish amusement, smiling even more when R2-D2 starts to beep furiously. "Yes, Artoo, I know you see him everyday but not as I do and, let me tell you, he's kriffing majestic. The lightsaber seems like an extension of his arm and his movements are so kriffing graceful. I'd give my right hand to see him fight without all the kriffing stupid tunics" he concludes, the dreamy look dampened only a little by a tiny sliver of frustration, which explains the rich rhetoric.

Generally Obi-Wan is good at controlling the colour increasing of his neck and cheek mostly because there aren't many things that cause it - praises are never been a problem until now. He clears his throat twice. "I'm sure he means it for a strictly scientific purpose - you know, muscles and..." he trails off because he has no idea of how to finish the phrase, because it's evident that's not the case. The combination of Anakin and scientific motives is even more laughable than his attempt.

Ahsoka hurrumphs, an amused aura all around he frame, and she has no right to sound like Master Yoda. "At least he wants to sacrifice his mechanic hand."

Obi-Wan sighs. Qui-Gon as his Master, Anakin as Padawan and Ahsoka as Grand-Padawan - it's a miracle he still has his sanity for putting up with the three of them without dire consequences, there should be a special rank for Jedi this brave.

"But that would be so uncivilized" Anakin resumes, doing a more accurate impression of Obi-Wan's accent now than when he's not under the influence of an inhibitor venom. "It's not proper for a Jedi to show skin or sweat in public or not, Force forbid. He gets this little line between his eyebrows, that he blames on me by the way, every time I suggest to spar shirtless and, trust me, Artoo, I've lost count of all the times I've tried. Or he pinches the bridge of his nose. Or strokes his beard. Force, I love his kriffing beard."

The Jedi Master chooses to pointedly ignore the L-word and the spark of something in his chest, and is grateful when Ahsoka too keeps quiet, though she's clearly on the edge of a laughing fit.

R2-D2 beeps again what hopefully is an invitation to finally shut up based on the outraged expression on Anakin's face.

"What? No! It doesn't make him look old."

Figures. Leave it to Anakin to be so horrified by a rude comment to his Master's beard. No, not Master. Not anymore, corrects himself Obi-Wan, as usual. But still a Jedi, supplies a voice in the back of his head that resembles dangerously Mace Windu's.

"It gives him a refined style. Just like his hair. Can you believe Obi-Wan invented the definition of bed-head, Artoo? I don't know why he insists on combing it. He looks so soft in the morning with his messy, adorable hair out of place. It's a torture to not go and touch it, I swear." Anakin's flailing arms, probably to stress the urgency of his just expressed desire, almost sends the glass of water flying. He poutes - such a childish look hasn't any reason to be endearing on a grown-up man and normally Obi-Wan wouldn't find it so, but Anakin has always managed to surprise him. His younger friend is immensely cute and he hates himself a bit more for thinking it.

"Speaking of, he's so touchy-feely lately. His hands are always all over me, on my shoulder or my knee or arm. He touched my chest two weeks ago! And I wasn't even hurt, Artoo. How I am supposed to focus like that? If I didn't know Obi-Wan to be so kriffing oblivious, I'd say he's doing it on purpose to drive me insane. Maybe my stealth wooing is working and now I need to use a more direct approach, what do you say?"

Ahsoka has abandoned every pretence of control the moment Anakin's mentioned exemples of Obi-Wan's hands on him, belly-laughs climaxing with something in between a snort and a grunt at the part on stealth wooing. Obi-Wan, instead, runs a hand over his face and tunes out R2-D2's blat, fighting against to many urges to pick up one: the blushing, the impulse of chastising Ahsoka, the desire to put a pillow on Anakin's mouth and finally stop him from talking. He does nothing, especially entering the medbay because he dreads what Anakin would say if he saw him and more importantly his own reaction at that.

"Or maybe it's best to leave things as they are. I don't wanna drive him away. I don't know what I'd do with my life without Obi-Wan in it."

There's a moment of silence after that. Obi-Wan is vaguely aware of Ahsoka awwing and his heart beating faster, his chest getting incredibly warm and tightening at the same at time, taking in the sad expression on Anakin's face. His stomach drops at the realisation of how much guiltly pleased he is at these words - obviously he wishes everything that's good in the galaxy for Anakin but he would be lying if he said that the prospect of his best friend helpless without him isn't somewhat moving, albeit in a very twisty way. And Obi-Wan understands the feeling so perfectly because, at least to himself, closed behind his shields, he can admit to be irreversibly, deeply, recklessly attached to Anakin, way over point of no return. Of course he's not oblivious as Anakin wants to believe, of course the stealth wooing has not gone unnoticed (possibly due to Anakin's lacking abilities rather than anything else) and of course Obi-Wan's thought of giving in to temptation, more than once if he has to be honest.

He looks at Anakin with old and new eyes, thinking that whatever he chooses to do, he needs to find a solution. Fast.

Anakin pulls out of his contemplative state and shrugs. "I guess, I can always ogle his ass from afar, uh, Artoo."

Fine. Pillow it is.