Chapter Text
“Sir Jedi General, you will make such a beautiful mate!”
The Utookan’s round turquoise eyes were saucer-sized from giddy excitement. Their webbed hand shook as they carefully placed a wreath of sagging, foul-smelling plants on Anakin’s head. One of the slimy leaves flopped down on his face, and Anakin wanted to hurl. His wretchedness was not only due to the botanical nightmare he was currently trying to balance on his head, but because the whole situation was so completely ridiculous it made him want to weep – or Force crush something.
“Ooh,” the rest of the Utookans chorused, evidently in agreement that Anakin was the prettiest of pretties to ever enter into the holy Union. “Most desirable!” Then Anakin’s wedding party succumbed to giggles and winks. Anakin felt himself blush.
One of them, the tall one – whose name Anakin had heard once and then promptly forgotten after hearing he was to be wed – patted Anakin’s shoulder in apparent effort to comfort him. “Do not worry, Sir Jedi General. The Koltgashur will bless your Union plentifully this night.”
“Great,” Anakin managed to croak, reminding himself again that it would be highly offensive to just leg it out of there. Apparently, it was quite impossible to do anything on the planet without the Koltgashur’s blessing – who had turned out to be the spirit of the Destined Union or Marriage of True Minds or something nearly untranslatable nonsense. Of all the possible indignities he had suffered for a mission, this one certainly took the cake. And not just because reportedly there would be cake after the ceremony.
Force, it had better be a magnificent, delicious cake.
Perhaps finally noticing Anakin’s not-so-furtive glances at the exits – from the balcony he could easily jump to the plaza, reach their ship in mere minutes – the Utookans stopped fiddling with Anakin’s hair and clothes, herding him out of the room. The journey by speeder – Anakin did not get to drive, what a shocker – to the ancient site of the holy Union – meaning a swampy pool – was regrettably short. Really, they could not take the long way, show him the sights as Anakin requested? Rude.
All too soon Anakin found himself standing in shallow, murky water, watching as Obi-Wan waded knee-deep towards him, the oohs and ahs of the Utookans accompanying his every step. Anakin was somewhat cheered by Obi-Wan’s miserable expression, by the fact that his former Master looked hilariously absurd in his immaculate Jedi robes, with a nest of half-dead leaves heaped upon his groomed hair.
Good, Obi-Wan had earned himself plenty of suffering for somehow managing to persuade Anakin to participate in the whole charade. What was it again his Master had claimed? Oh yeah –
There is no harm in it, Anakin, it is just a symbolic ceremony. It’s not legally binding in the Republic, Anakin, and it can only mean what meaning we ourselves give it. It will make matters infinitely easier with the Utookans, Anakin. After all, it is just a small thing, we have certainly done much weirder things before.
That last point Anakin vehemently disagreed with. He had definitely not done anything weirder than joined his former Master in a holy Union/Marriage blessed by a swamp spirit on a this-place-is-so-remote-and-insignificant-no-one-even-knows-it-exists planet. It was somewhat concerning that Obi-Wan did not agree, which raised the question: just what was the crazier thing Anakin’s Master had done? Had he wedded – or Force forbid bedded – Mace Windu?
“I hate you,” Anakin said under his breath as Obi-Wan finally stood beside him. They were both wearing matching polite, if somewhat rigid expressions, facing the Utookan elder. Apparently, the spirit didn’t even deign to show up, but worked through proxy.
“I know, my dear,” Obi-Wan muttered, shoulders stiff. Anakin could not rouse any sympathy – quite the opposite. It would serve his Master right to have the wedding jitters.
The elder started to intone the sacred words, spouting the first blessing in a low, monotone voice. Anakin tried to follow the speech, he really did, but after the third blessing – more of the same really, something about true minds and tempests and ever-fixed marks – he couldn’t quite resist the temptation to whisper, “You look utterly ridiculous.”
The corners of Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched slightly. “Why, thank you. Your compliments are always so sweet.”
Anakin had a great comeback ready, but just then the elder finished speaking. It was now their turn. And as the younger party, Anakin got to say his vow first. How fantastic.
Just like he had been instructed, Anakin placed the palm of his left hand against Obi-Wan’s heart, his own heart already thudding double-speed. His Master’s gaze met his, bright and warm. And see, Anakin was not in fact an idiot, he had actually planned in advance what he would say, but somehow all that came out from his stupid mouth was, “Um, well…I and you…I mean us together, uh that is, yeah…”
Obi-Wan’s lips curved into a smile, eyebrows lifting in clear challenge.
That son of a barve.
“I vow to always spring the traps with you,” Anakin declared, grinning. “I vow to always fly us out of the tight spots, and I vow to always save you when your horrible plans go inevitably awry.”
Obi-Wan’s expression softened, and Anakin took a deep breath, continuing, “I vow to keep my blade always between you and any enemies, and I vow to keep listening to you, even if I don’t always agree. I vow to be your friend, always.”
There were many words he could have said; some of them he had kept so long a secret in his heart. And yet he did not have to, for the Force sang between them, a harmonious gentle note of joy, encompassing the two of them in a warm embrace.
The Utookan elder made a curious guttural noise, and Anakin’s attention snapped back to his surroundings, to the slimy water against his legs, to the keen audience watching from the shore. He hastened to say the final words, “This all I vow under the eyes of the Koltgashur.”
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. It was his turn. Anakin thought his Master’s cheeks looked a little flushed. Gently, Obi-Wan rested his palm against Anakin’s heart.
“I vow to continue to protect and guide you. I vow to always be there, when you need me. I vow to give you my words and my silence, my sword and my shield. I vow…I vow to be your friend, always. This all I vow under the eyes of the Koltgashur.”
Then Anakin and Obi-Wan took the wreaths from their heads, laying them down in the water.
“Now, you are one,” the elder announced simply, and just like that the ceremony was over. The Utookan spectators erupted into wild cheers; Obi-Wan shot him an abashed, lopsided grin; Anakin felt curiously faint. He must have been hungrier than he had thought.
<)
At least the wedding reception was not in the swamp, but in a colourfully decorated hall near their lodgings. It would be a blessedly short stagger back to their room, after Anakin had gotten himself blindingly drunk. The quicker the whole thing could be forgotten, the better.
Except the Utookans didn’t have any alcohol, which Anakin really should have seen coming after the spectacular way the day had so far gone. Apparently, it was a completely foreign concept in their culture, how very fascinating, Obi-Wan explained, voice a little strained and expression carefully blank as they watched the natives boogie to a garbled screeching that passed for music (if one were deaf).
What was a truly nice surprise was that they could leave the party early – in fact, they were very adamantly urged to do so. Less pleasant was the reason for it: they were expected to seal their Union, start the honeymoon so to speak, if the cavalcade of knowing winks and giggles were anything to go by. Anakin, however, didn’t even care about the suggestive remarks and looks anymore, he just wanted the nightmare to end. But first, he wanted that cake. He had earned it dammit.
“Where’s the cake?” Anakin demanded, trying to see over the tall Utookans, whose heads were swinging to and fro with the music, like a giant green wave. It was making him seasick.
“Come, darling husband.” Obi-Wan’s fingers touched the small of Anakin’s back, steering him to the other side of the hall.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Which one? Darling or husband?”
“Both,” Anakin grumbled, but he perked up as they neared the long tables laden with – what Anakin at least assumed and so very fervently hoped was – food.
“Well, one of them at least is true enough.”
Anakin had no great comeback for that line, and anyway, the sight of the cake was enough to momentarily rob him of any speech. It was enormous and lime green, topped with a thick swirl of pink that looked like cream.
“Cake, Sir Jedi Generals?” The waiter asked eagerly, their mouth stretching into a wide, happy smile. Obi-Wan took one look at Anakin and then at the tittering flock of Utookans staring at them and said, “We’ll take a piece to go.”
Anakin could have kissed him. But, not really. Because. You know. They weren’t actually married. Or even together. Not that he had ever thought about that at all.
“Thank y –” The moment Obi-Wan got the box containing their huge piece of cake, Anakin grabbed his Master’s sleeve and dragged Obi-Wan with him as he ducked out of the hall as quickly as possible, leaving the Utookans cheering and waving after them merrily.
<)
The first thing Anakin did, when he closed the door of their room behind him, was sigh in relief. Loudly. Just so Obi-Wan realized that Anakin had still not forgiven him for going along with the Utookans’ insane union/marriage idea. Let’s play along, Anakin, he had said. There’s no harm in it, Anakin.
What a truly, spectacularly stupid plan – even in the history of all of their stupid plans.
The second thing Anakin did, was to yank off his wet boots and trousers, but then his upper body was overdressed compared to his lower half, and that was just silly, so Anakin removed his clothes until he was only in his undershirt and shorts. He plumped himself down on the massive, thick, marvellously soft cushion.
Flipping the box open, he stared at the cake. It really was very lime green. Accompanying the slice was one fork-like utensil. Just in case Obi-Wan had not interpreted Anakin’s sigh correctly, he pointed out, “This plan was so stupid.”
Having also stripped down to his underclothes, Obi-Wan, the karking Hutt-spawn, sat down next to Anakin and seized the only utensil, before Anakin could snatch it for his own use.
“I think it went smashingly. One might even say it was…a piece of cake.”
“I worry for you Master – just how many times must you have been hit on the head, to think that terrible pun is in any shape or form funny?”
Obi-Wan did not answer. He was tasting the cake gingerly, then licking the utensil clean. Then he had the gall to go for seconds, scooping a much heftier piece.
“Hey! I still haven’t got any!” Anakin protested, ready for an all-out war, if need be. Luckily his Master knew how to keep the peace and relinquished the utensil to him with minimal grumbling. Anakin ignored Obi-Wan’s aggressive eye-rolling and promptly shoved the small lime-pink heap, now in imminent danger of sliding from its perch on top of the utensil, into his mouth.
Oh, it was delicious. Who would have thought that the Utookans were such talented bakers?
“Great cake!”
“Mmm…surprising, I know.” Obi-Wan appropriated the utensil sneakily back, when Anakin was too busy enjoying his third mouthful, ecstatic from the way the sugary sweetness just melted on his tongue.
Now that was a cake almost worth for getting married in a weird swamp ceremony.
They hadn’t eaten since that morning’s significantly less tasty breakfast, and for the next several minutes they passed the utensil between them, gobbling up their wedding cake. The box was soon more than half-empty.
Sighing in satisfaction, Anakin flopped onto his back. He was feeling so plump and happy he couldn’t eat another morsel. “You know Master, I think your vows were lacking. Maybe you are losing your touch as a great orator.”
“Really? Interesting. Care to elaborate?”
“Well, for example there was a truly distressing lack of vowing to keep me well-fed and caffeinated. Those are important.”
Obi-Wan ducked his head, putting the box a safe distance away from the cushion, but not before Anakin got a good glimpse of the smirk that spread across his face. “I concede, I was horribly remiss in that. Well, I vow to always get you cake. How’s that?”
“Perfect,” Anakin purred. “Of course, there were other pretty significant things missing too.”
“Oh?”
“Like fulfilling my other needs…”
Obi-Wan turned to face Anakin fully; he leaned closer, strong arms coming to bracket Anakin. “And what would those be?”
Anakin swallowed hard. Obi-Wan was looking at him very, very intently. “Kis…kisses.”
That was funny, right? The words could be taken as an amusing joke. If Obi-Wan didn’t – it didn’t need to be anything other than –
The seconds that passed in silence were excruciatingly long. Obi-Wan looked thoughtful, mouth drawn into a serious line. “I see. Just to be perfectly clear, how many kisses would that be per day?”
“Hard to say,” Anakin parried hoarsely. Then, more boldly, “Every time I want. And – every time you want.”
“That certainly clarified things.” Obi-Wan’s eyes twinkled with mischief. He leaned closer, until Anakin could feel his breath on his face. “Alright, my dear. I vow…I vow to kiss you every time you want…and every time I want.”
Then Obi-Wan finally pressed his lips against Anakin’s, and closed the gap between their bodies.