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friskynotebook · 9 months

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Tears You Up But Sets You Free

CW: grief, death of a loved one

Summary: Padme believes she's in unrequited love with Obi-Wan—until one morning when she finds him sleeping in a closet

did I really spend all day writing almost 3,000 words of a Padme lives post ROTS Obidala angsty love confession and posted it unbeta'd? yes

The title is from the song Memphis Lives in Me from the musical Memphis ✨ You can listen to it here

Also on AO3!

Padme rolled over, blinking the sleep from her eyes as the Dantooine morning sun filtered through her bedroom window. She reached over to the other side of the bed and patted the cool sheets, hoping that this morning would be different than the others.

It never was.

She sighed. Ever since she and Obi-Wan had escaped to a tiny village on Dantooine with the twins nearly three years ago, they had grown closer. Living on a remote planet required them to rely on each other, both physically and emotionally. The friendship long-ago established on Naboo deepend further in the past three years than it had in the previous thirteen. They may have been legally married on Dantooine to maintain their cover, but for Padme, Obi-Wan Kenobi had become something deeper—her very best friend.

And perhaps something more . . .

On her end, there had always been something simmering beneath the surface when it came to her relationship with Obi-Wan, but he was so dedicated to the Order and so much of a Jedi, it never seemed like a real possibility. So he remained a dear friend and ally, nothing more. And when things presented themselves with Anakin . . .

But that was then. Now, however, as the years had passed, she found herself growing more and more fond of Obi-Wan every day. Of course she knew he was a handsome man—Padme had fully functioning eyes, after all. But she never really saw how gorgeous he was until she had to spend endless amounts of time with just him and her children.

The children. Watching him interact with Luke and Leia—that was probably when she started to fall in love. Even when her heart was shattered in a million pieces mere weeks after their arrival, the pain lessened just a little when she saw Obi-Wan gently soothing little Leia’s cries so Padme could get a little more rest.

As the twins got older, Obi-Wan threw himself into fatherhood the same way Padme had thrown herself into motherhood. It surprised her—not his capability to love her children, because she’d seen first hand how much he’d loved Anakin and the rest of the Order, for that matter. But for someone who’d never had a traditional family structure of his own, he’d been committed to caring for the children and her as if it had ben ingrained in his very soul. Even though they had meager credits to their name, she and Obi-Wan were committed to giving Luke and Leia as normal a life as possible—from birthday parties to day trips to the mountains to sleepovers with friends, where the twins were right now.

Padme sighed. They didn’t often get long stretches of time alone together, and she wanted nothing more than to simply be with him and show him just how much he meant to her. But instead, he continued being his annoyingly perfect self and made her dinner, sat with her in the living room as he read a new arrival from the town library, and settled into the bed they shared with barely a kiss on the cheek.

And now she was waking up alone. Again

Padme shook her head. She wasn’t going down this path again. Obi-Wan had so many of his own burdens to deal with and the last thing he needed was to deal with her . . . feelings. They were best friends, nothing more.

Best friends who shared a bed.

Purely for our cover, Obi-Wan had reassured her. We can’t have the children telling their friends their married parents sleep in separate bedrooms. It would draw too much attention.

Selfishly, she had agreed. If only for a little more time spent in Obi-Wan’s warmth.

She rolled out of bed and slipped into a robe. She wasn’t used to early morning quiet with two five year olds running around—she was nearly startled by the sounds of her own footsteps as she padded to the kitchen to brew some caf.

As she went through the motions of preparing the hot drink—two creams, two sugars for her, one sugar for Obi-Wan—Padme glanced at the door to a small storage room beside the twins’ bedroom. Obi-Wan converted it from a closet when they had first arrived, needing a hidden space to store the few remaining relics of his Jedi life as well as a quiet place to meditate away from the others. Every morning, he’d rise before the sun and meditate for an hour or two before the rest of the family got up. This morning didn’t seem any different, even without the children, so she settled at their small kitchen table and sipped at her caf, waiting for Obi-Wan to finish.

But as the minutes ticked by, he didn’t emerge.

After half a standard hour, Padme grabbed Obi-Wan’s rapidly cooling mug and approached the closed door. She knocked softly.

“Obi-Wan? Is everything alright?”

Silence.

Padme tried to quell her rising nerves and knocked again.

“Obi-Wan?”

Silence.

Padme swallowed. “I’m coming in.”

She opened the door—only for it to stop halfway through. “What—?”

The door was caught on what appeared to be a bundle of robes and—was that Obi-Wan’s foot?

Padme frowned and pushed the door all the way open as gently as she could, kneeling down beside the long lump of robes and brushing a lock of hair back from her husband’s forehead.

Obi-Wan was snoring softly under the robe-blanket he had carefully tucked around him, his head resting on a robe-pillow. Padme’s lips quirked. He must have fallen asleep while meditating this morning.

But . . . That didn’t explain the state of the storage room. His makeshift bed looked lived-in, more so than his actual bed. A small chest beside his robe-pillow acted as a nightstand, with his latest holo book and the glasses he swore he didn’t need resting on top.

Why is he sleeping here?

It couldn’t have been comfortable. Obi-Wan wasn’t a particularly large man, but this storage room was tiny. Padme was sitting half outside the room as it was. It can’t be good for him being cramped in this space all night long—how many nights does he do this?

Padme thought back to their past three years in Dantooine—she couldn’t remember a single morning when her husband woke up beside her. Surely he must have in all their years but her mind kept coming up short. She brushed her fingers delicately along his bearded jaw, then gasped as she saw, seemingly for the first time, how dark the circles under his eyes were, and how deep his crows feet went. How had she never noticed this?

Before her thoughts could derail any further, Padme heard Obi-Wan whimper, his brow furrowed even in sleep. “No . . . no, please . . .”

Padme set the caf down on the chest and leaned forward, gently shaking her husband’s shoulder. “Obi-Wan, wake up.”

His breathing became more erratic and he started whimpering. The fear Padme had been pushing down started creeping up her throat.

She brushed her hand through his hair. “Obi-Wan, please. You’re safe, you need to wake up.”

Suddenly, Obi-Wan’s eyes shot open and he sat up, panting heavily.

“Shhh,” Padme soothed, stroking his hair. “It was just a dream, Obi-Wan. You’re safe.”

He blinked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. “P-Padme? What are you doing here?”

She swallowed. “You didn’t come out for your caf. I got worried.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan ran a hand through his damp hair. “I”m sorry for worrying you, dear one.”

Padme pushed down the flutter in her chest at the pet name. “What’s going on?”

“Hmm?” He looked up, his blue eyes looking more dull than she’d ever seen them.

“Why are you sleeping in here?”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Oh, I must have fallen asleep while meditating again—”

Padme raised a brow. “So you made yourself a bedroom?”

He blushed. “Padme, it’s not—”

“Don’t tell me what it’s not, Obi-Wan. Tell me what it is.” Padme kept her voice soft but left no room for arguments.

“This is wrong.”

Padme furrowed her brow. “What’s wrong?”

“What I’m doing—my life—what I’ve done—it’s wrong.” His breath hitched in his throat.

Suddenly realizing this issue was far deeper than he had let on, Padme settled on his robe-bed, nestling closer to him. “What’s so wrong about our life?” she asked gently.

“I shouldn’t be living it!” he blurted out. “I k-killed him—”

“Obi-Wan no—”

He was getting lost in his thoughts. “I failed him and then I killed him. He was my brother, my apprentice, I should have helped him—”

“He was beyond help.” Padme soothed, repeating all the things he told her over the years. “There’s nothing wrong—”

He buried his face in his hands and Padme’s heart shattered even more. “Everything is wrong! I’m living his life—the life I stole. Don’t you see, Padme? This is all wrong! It should be Anakin here—”

“No it shouldn’t.”

That got Obi-Wan to stop right in his tracks. “What?”

Padme took her best friend’s face into her hands, stroking his beard with her thumbs. “No. It. Shouldn’t.”

“Padme, h-how can you say that? How can you want this life with me—”

“How about you let me decide what I want and what’s good for me?” She softened the blow of her words with a raised brow.

Obi-Wan took a breath, not meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She forced his eyes upwards. “Don’t be,” she insisted, closing her eyes. Now or never, Padme. “I—Obi-Wan—”

“I’m not the family you need.” His voice was deadly quiet.

Her eyes snapped open. “What?”

He tried pulling away, but she wouldn’t let him go. “I’m not—” He swallowed. “I can’t be what you need.”

“And what exactly do I need?” Padme wasn’t going to lose her husband to his own mind, not if she had anything to say about it.

“Someone who can handle sharing a bed with you, being your husband, your children’s father, sharing your life, being in love with you—”

Padme’s eyes widened. “You’re in love with me?” she whispered.

Obi-Wan’s expression mirrored hers as he tried to back away, reminding Padme of a skittish animal. She pulled him closer.

“Padme,” he rasped. “I’m so—”

“Don’t you dare apologize, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” she murmured, running one of her hands along his shoulder. “Is this why you’ve been sleeping here?”

He nodded. “It was too much,” he whispered. “Feeling the way I did and being in your bed. But I couldn’t bear to leave you either. I figured this was the best solution.”

The hand on his shoulder drifted down to his chest. “All this time? You were sleeping here all this time?”

“Mostly,” he nodded. “I’d wait until you were asleep and then come here. It was better this way,” he added, seeing Padme’s crestfallen expression. “You needed your rest and my nightmares would wake you—”

“I don’t give a bantha’s ass about your nightmares waking me,” she insisted. “And what about your rest? Obi-Wan you don’t even fit in here! You must be so sore—you’ve been doing this for years?”

Her fretting brought a tiny smile to his face. “I’ve survived worse.”

“I don’t care—no more of this,” Padme declared. “You’re sleeping back in our bed, where you belong.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes grew distant again. “I can’t, Padme. You don’t need an old Jedi complicating—”

“What did I say about letting me decide what I need?” Padme smiled. “And . . . what if I wanted you in my bed?”

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow and Padme wanted desperately to smooth it out with her thumb. “What?”

She took a deep breath. “What if . . . I loved you too?”

His face went ashen. “Padme, no . . . How . . .?”

“How can I love? Or how can I love you?”

Obi-Wan opened and closed his mouth a few times before answering. “Both,” he choked out. “With everything that’s happened.”

“Just because I’ve loved and been hurt in my past doesn’t mean I can’t love again, Obi-Wan. I’m still human,” she murmured, stroking his cheek.

“But with Anakin—”

“Not him.”

“What?”

She sighed. “I wasn’t talking about him.”

Obi-Wan leaned into her touch, waiting for her to continue.

“I cared for Ani, truly, and I did love him—just not the way a wife should love a husband,” she said, finally confiding in him the realization she had come to long ago. “The Anakin I loved—the Anakin I thought I loved—never existed. At most, we had infatuation. We never had time to explore anything else. And . . . if we had . . . I don’t think our marriage would have worked. Even if everything hadn’t happened.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “But—you were both happy—”

“Obi-Wan,” she murmured, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “I’ve been happier with you on our worst day than with Anakin on our best.”

His eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Padme.”

“Out here, I’ve had nothing but time to think about our lives before, all the mistakes I made, everything we’ve been through . . . Luke and Leia are my world, but marrying Ani was a mistake. Rushing things was a mistake. I wanted us to be happy so badly I convinced myself we were.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Perhaps we were both blinded by love.”

“Both?”

“I’m not a fool, Padme. I’d known about you and Anakin long before you realized I knew.” He sighed. “You both had been through so much . . . I wanted you both to be happy.”

“We weren’t.” She squeezed his hand. “Not truly.”

“I think we both saw what we wanted to see.”

Padme wrapped her arms around his neck, letting out a sigh of relief when her husband wrapped his own arms around her. She kissed his neck, settling into his embrace.

“Did you ever think about this? Before?” Padme asked.

“I was so committed to the Order I never truly considered the possibility,” he answered honestly. “I couldn’t allow myself to think about . . . anything I could feel for you. I didn’t think any relationship was an option until you and Anakin were married.”

“And then it was too late,” she finished his thought, her breath tickling his skin.

“This wasn’t the way I’d have ever wanted us to become a couple,” he murmured.

“I know,” she reassured him. “But—if it was an option. If we could have explored our feelings. If everything hadn’t happened. What would you have done?”

“I’d have left the Order,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice so soft Padme barely heard the words.

She lifted her head. “Obi-Wan!”

“I couldn’t fulfill a commitment to you and to the Order,” Obi-Wan replied, the torment in his voice replaced by an eerie calm.

“But your duty—”

“—was to the Republic. I didn’t need to be part of the Order to serve the Republic.”

After a moment, Padme responded. “And if I hadn’t returned your feelings?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” he whispered. “As you can see, I’m not very good at effectively repressing romantic feelings,” he smirked.

Padme beamed. “And now you don’t have to.”

She leaned in ready to finally kiss her best friend, her husband, for the first time—only for Obi-Wan to turn away.

“What is it?” she asked, lifting his chin to meet her eyes. “Please, tell me. Let me care for you the way you’ve always cared for me.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, his tormented blue eyes filling once more with tears. “Have you ever . . . have you ever wished it were Anakin here instead of me?”

Padme closed her eyes and cupped his face in her hands, pressing her forehead against his. “Once, a long time ago. When the babies were six months old.”

He started to nod his head, accepting this, but Padme refused to let him leave her embrace. She opened her eyes. “I was in so much pain I couldn’t think straight. Trying to deal with the pain of losing Anakin while raising twins . . . it was too much most days. And one day, you were bathing Luke and I remember thinking, you’re the wrong Jedi. It should be Anakin here bathing my babies.”

“But you know what?” Padme continued, wanting to chase the pain out of his eyes. “The very next morning, I heard one of the twins cry and I started to roll out of bed. But then I heard you talking to them and you sang a lullaby with your beautiful voice and you know what I said?”

“What?” Obi-Wan whispered, tears slipping down his cheeks.

She tightened her grip on his jaw, kissing his tears. “I said, oh good. Their father’s taking care of them.” She swallowed. “Luke and Leia may have Anakin’s DNA, but you are their father, through and through. One intrusive thought I had when I was deep in the throes of grief does not take that away and it never will. I love you, Obi-Wan. Our children love you. And even though the circumstances are never what I would have wanted, nothing has made me happier than being here with you and our children. Nothing.”

Obi-Wan leaned forward, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. “Padme,” he moaned, his nose brushing against hers.

“I love you, Obi-Wan,” she murmured against his mouth. “You’re my home.”

“I love you,” he repeated, pulling her closer. “I’ll never grow tired of saying that.”

“I’ll never grow tired of hearing it,” she beamed.

“Padme, I—ow!” Obi-Wan broke the kiss, rubbing the back of his head.

“Are you alright?” she asked, reaching over to inspect his head herself.

“I think I hit my head on this shelf,” he frowned.

Padme snorted. “I can’t believe you’ve been sleeping in this closet for years.”

“In hindsight, it does seem rather foolish, doesn’t it?” Obi-Wan grinned.

Padme’s heart fluttered when she finally saw Obi-Wan’s beautiful smile. “Come on. Let’s head somewhere a little more comfortable . . .”

No-pressure tags: @saradika @obiknights @alabama-metal-man @cypanache @your-dose-of-obidala @justsaysomethingjayj @written-musings @celestial-alignment @darlingamidala

#obidala #padme amidala #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x padme #obi wan kenobi x padme amidala #star wars fanfic #obidala fic #my fic #my writing

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