Chapter Text
The blade was beautiful, but Anakin found it hard to sincerely admire the amount of work the blacksmiths had put into shaping the sword and its magnificently ornate scabbard when he knew that this elegant blade would never see combat and would only be decorative. What was the point of giving him something that would be useless? Was it a message? Was he trying to remind him before he even saw him again that his life as a soldier was a thing of the past and would be no more than a decoration? That he was just a decoration now?
If so, King Kenobi would be very disappointed. Anakin had not fought all his life to rise only to be reduced to a breeder at the age of twenty-one. He would never again be someone else's slave and he would certainly never end up like his mother.
"This is a sumptuous gift from His Majesty," he declared in a steady, serene tone as he moved the blade to support his declaration of appreciation. "Please thank him warmly for his attention."
The emissary bowed deeply in respect and Anakin would be surprised if he did not already know the man's reputation. Qui-Gon Jinn, son of the wealthy and noble Count Dooku of Serenno and protégé of Finnis Valorum, head of one of the most powerful and influential families one could hope to find, was a diplomat of the first order. He was the one who had travelled so far again and again to make this marriage between Anakin and King Kenobi happen, and although Anakin had initially treated him as a nuisance, the man had facilitated a few private missives between himself and his betrothed that had earned him permission to take with him an escort and servants in addition to any personal belongings he wished to keep, so he now respected the man.
Anakin had no problem with Alphas, only assholes.
"He will be pleased to hear that, as he oversaw the commission personally."
The man then turned back to the throne as Anakin sheathed the sword and the prince made sure not to look away when the eyes of his dearest father-in-law or brother met his own.
When Anakin's hand had been offered to the highest bidder, Cliegg had not even had the decency to come and inform him himself, it had been slaves, invisible presences, who had warned Rex, who had warned him. The bastard had not even waited until he was legally an adult in the eyes of their laws, fragile as they were, to explore his options and make the most of the promise of fertility of Anakin's womb. He would not look down, especially now that he knew he would not suffer any consequences for this kind of petty rebellion.
The bastard wanted him to arrive as intact as possible to his betrothed, and bathing in cold water or not eating tonight was no punishment for a soldier like him who had bled and crawled through mud to survive.
A tiny clearing of Rex's throat behind him made him realise the bitterness that was gradually permeating his scent and he forced himself to turn his attention back to the Alpha next to him who was bowing quietly.
Anakin did not know if he was imagining things but it seemed to him that the bow was smaller than it was for him, which would not make much sense but... he was sure of himself.
Probably just another attempt to soften Anakin's thoughts towards the man who had bought him.
Tatooine did not have much to offer, it was mainly an arid land, but they managed to survive on livestock and agriculture in the natural oases, and for a trading kingdom like the Kingdom of Stewjon, the trade routes they had to offer were a vein to exploit that was apparently more than worth forgetting that Anakin was not of royal blood if his dowry was so attractive.
"King Cliegg, it is time for me to bid you farewell. Your Highness, we shall meet again soon in Stewjoni lands."
"Have a safe journey, Lord Jinn."
Anakin offered a discreet but sincere nod to the ambassador, who returned a friendly smile.
He seemed like a good person. If on the inside he was anything like on the surface, he was the kind of man Anakin wished he had had as a father.
"I'm going to finish my preparations," Anakin then announced, leaving without waiting for permission.
He would be leaving very soon, arriving at his bridegroom's home at the end of winter, on Spring Day to be exact, the wedding ceremony was expected to be held at the end of a week of festivities to honour the fertility gods. How appropriate.
In his quarters, his belongings were already mostly packed and ready for the journey, he had already had what he wanted to take with him packed and secured, the rest would stay, he just needed an excuse to get away.
"It really is a beautiful blade," he sighed, placing the scabbard on the nearest table before taking a seat on a sofa.
"It's a gift worthy of a prince."
"It's more than I deserve considering my background. He probably wants to entice me, show me how rich he is and how much he can offer me as long as I comply."
This kind of person could not imagine that he was any happier poor with his mother than he had been since he got that room. He did not blame his mother for that, he never would, she had had no choice and was doing her best for him, but that was the difference.
Money could not replace love, it could not even make up for it.
Anakin would not be bought by such material goods, even if he would wear the sword at his waist when he arrived in Stewjon to flatter his husband's ego. His heart thirsted for something far more precious.
"He can also hope to win your heart."
"And you dare to tell me I'm the one with a romantic heart, Rex," Anakin scoffed gently.
He had flatly refused to marry Obi-Wan Kenobi when he had learned that he was the best match he could hope to get, partly because he did not want to get married at all and partly because the fact that it was coming from him was particularly unpleasant to him. He had expected better of him after their meeting some ten years earlier.
Unfortunately, when he learned from a sympathetic Beru who was genuinely concerned for him that Emperor Palpatine himself had shown an interest in him and was even rather eager and obsessive to have him, he had been unable to continue. No one would say no to such a powerful man for no reason, because even though the man was so old that even Cliegg had been uncomfortable with his declaration of interest in his concubine's son, he was not the sort of person you could easily turn down.
Anakin had just made a simple calculation, Obi-Wan Kenobi was only fifteen years older than him, Sheev Palpatine at least thirty-five and that was being generous. The former was not unpleasant to look at from what he remembered and had left a good impression on him, the other was wrinkled and had an unhealthy, slimy aura that had left him uncomfortable for days.
"I chose the one that looked the least unpleasant, there's nothing romantic about it."
The door behind Rex swung open but neither of them flinched, there was only one man who could behave like that.
"Anakin!"
"I don't want to hear it, brother," he sighed. "I'll be gone soon anyway, so save your breath."
Owen hated hearing that word come from him. Brother. There was not a drop of blood connecting them, but Cliegg had made him a prince when he had taken his mother as a concubine. Anakin still despised his "father" with all his heart for that, for literally buying his mother, and no attempt to appease him had ever work on him when he was still trying. What was done was done though, Anakin was an adopted prince of the King and was officially worth as much as the blood prince, and even if they barely put up with each other the blond knew that the heir to the crown was trying to go easy on him out of respect for his mother. Shmi Skywalker had been a gentle, generous and maternal woman, even an asshole like Owen could not have hated her when she had acted like a mother to him for ten years with devotion, even though in this instance he was the one who was not related to them by blood.
"About that," the man sighed, staring at Rex who was carefully not looking at him, his eyes fixed on Anakin. "Remember not to act like you do here once you get there. Some people might... misunderstand."
"Misunderstand?" He laughed heartily, feeling in a teasing mood. "About what?"
"You know what I mean. Your husband might not like it."
"Not everyone is so anxious as to think that their Omega partner would take advantage of the slightest closed door to have adulterous sex," Anakin scoffed. "I feel much safer with Rex by my side than anyone else."
Than with you. It was not said, but Owen understood it and left, slamming the door as violently as when he had opened it.
"Well… that was faster than I expected."
"What a Di'kut."
Anakin thoughtfully considered his servant and guard, his protector and friend.
He knew why Owen was worried, Anakin was an Omega, Rex was an Alpha, he was worried about the rumours that might circulate... but it was a false argument that was mainly aimed at trying to control his relationships with the people he loved for the sole reason that they were Alphas. If there was one thing no one had any doubt about outside his military prowess, at the court and even beyond their borders, it was the fact that Anakin was innocent of the ways of love.
Refusing to let his nature be used against him to belittle him, he had always defended his purity with determination and ardour and had challenged – and killed – anyone who dared to claim otherwise and had himself overseen the painful deaths of anyone who dared to try to tarnish his honour. It was not actually that he subscribed to the idea that an Omega should be pure before his marriage and know only one sexual partner in his life, that thing was just bullshit, but Anakin had learned from his mother that your body was a gift, and that the way you used your body revealed the kind of person you were.
Anakin was loyal and faithful to an end, he was not the type to fool around and have fun... and he would not have soldiers with him at night if he did not have complete trust in them. Rex was one of the most honourable men he knew, he would never touch a hair on his head under any circumstances, he had proved that all those years ago, that was after all the reason he was serving him and had not been executed with all his men when Anakin had defeated them in battle after a bitter campaign of months of relentless fighting. Now they were his men, their loyalty was to him. Which reminded him...
"Rex."
"What's up, Your Highness?"
"Please take a sit."
The blond looked at him warily as he obeyed.
"You and the others pledged allegiance to me and never broke your promise, but from now on I will be a married man, it is unlikely that I will ever return to the battlefield, none of you have to follow me from now on. Consider your debt repaid."
"Are you freeing us from our obligations?"
"I do."
"I see," the Mandalorian murmured before falling to his knees in a gesture that actually surprised his prince. "In that case, I humbly ask you to allow us to accompany you."
"I beg your pardon?"
"My honour couldn't bear me abandoning my alor at such a difficult time, a vod even less so, and I know the others will think the same."
Those Mandalorians...
Anakin looked away, trying not to let him see his eyes suddenly moist with tears of emotions, even though his smell probably already revealed just how deeply it touched him.
He placed his hand in the one extended to him and smiled at the gentlemanly kiss offered.
"We're in this with you."
"If that's how it is, get the men ready and help me choose the most dazzling outfit for my arrival there. We want to make a splash."
King Kenobi wanted Anakin Skywalker? He would have Anakin Skywalker, the fighter, the General, the prince.
He definitely would not submit to his every whims, and the 144 soldiers of his company behind their General Prince dressed in full armour and dazzling white clothes adorned with gold jewellery certainly made a strong impression on the capital's population as he headed towards his future with a confident and conquering face, winning over the crowds with a few smiles and highly symbolic gestures such as catching flowers tossed into his path.
And finally, after months of dreading this moment, he stood before the man. Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Negotiator. Anakin was anticipating some particularly aggressive negotiations, this wedding was not going to be a long quiet river.
Forcing himself to remain calm despite all eyes on him, Anakin drew the sword that had been offered to him regardless of the defensive movements in reaction and knelt elegantly, offering his blade like a soldier.
He would never present his neck or act like the gentle Omega he hoped he would be. He wanted to play with him by sending a sword? Anakin would show him he was a man of arms.
"King Kenobi, it's an honour."
"The honour is mine, and for you, my dear, it'll be Obi-Wan's," the redhead replied quietly with a serene smile.
Hmm... yeah, no.
"Of course, Your Majesty," he replied with a bow, inwardly viciously pleased to see this poised smile fade away.
He did not remember him perfectly, but he remembered that he had liked him. He had been a patient, open-minded friend who had not scorned him for being the son of a slave concubine during the several weeks when they had spent time together during Owen and Beru's wedding celebrations.
He thought he was his friend... but no, it was just a mask, as always. He had bought him to put him on his bed, he was just like all the others, no better than Palpatine in fact.
They were all the same.
Obi-Wan was a pleasant memory that he did not want to corrupt by associating it with the man in front of him.
I'll never call you Obi-Wan again.