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The winds howled and whipped up the snow on the ground into a miserable fog of white. More and more flurries of snowflakes rained down from above, brewing up a perfect storm. The blizzard hadn’t been nearly as bad even just 10 minutes prior, and when Obi-Wan and Anakin had arrived earlier that day, the sun had been shining. Weather on Milves was known to change rapidly; Obi-Wan just cursed the fact that the snowstorm had to begin the literal moment they had started to return to the ship.
Obi-Wan shivered and squinted as snow flew into and stung his eyes. He had to keep putting one foot in front of the other, just keep moving forward, or else he would lose himself in the biting, blinding cold of the storm. The snow would bury him, leaving no trace behind. He had survived far worse than this blizzard before, the Force was with him, he would make it through. The worry that actually gnawed away at him was more about his young Padawan, who had never experienced a snowstorm before.
“M-master, are we—are we almost there?” Anakin asked, barely audible through the winds’ screams, right on cue with Obi-Wan’s anxieties. He was wrapped up in Obi-Wan’s cloak, which looked absolutely ginormous on his tiny form drowning in the folds, but hopefully he could glean even just a smidge more warmth with it on. It meant that Obi-Wan was left with only his inner robes to keep himself warm, but he had the training to draw heat from the Force and sustain himself at least temporarily that way. Plus, he had Anakin’s Force presence blazing like a furnace right beside him. Normally, his presence was overwhelming to be around, so they had been working diligently together on improving Anakin’s shields. But in the moment, Obi-Wan was grateful for the warmth and the reassurance that Anakin was still alive and well.
For the entire journey, Anakin had clutched onto Obi-Wan’s hand like a lifeline, keeping him afloat through the worsening blizzard. Now, Obi-Wan gave his tiny hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’re almost there, I promise,” he shouted with more confidence than he actually felt.
For another minute, they kept trekking through the barrage of snow, the world fading slowly into pure, sweet white. All of a sudden, Obi-Wan spotted a speck of gray in the distance. It stood out in stark contrast to the whirlwind of snow all around it. Obi-Wan held back his judgment for a few seconds, but as they approached, it became clearer and clearer that this must be the ship. The spark of hope lit up in his chest and reinvigorated him to keep going.
“We’re almost there, Anakin, almost there, almost there,” Obi-Wan whispered like a mantra for both himself and Anakin. He sent more of the heat he had generated over their training bond, hoping desperately that it would be enough to get them through the final arduous stretch.
Obi-Wan couldn’t think clearly for the final minute of fighting through the blizzard, so utterly focused on his destination. But he recognized the exact moment he and Anakin stumbled through the door of the ship, slammed it shut, and basked in the glorious warmth that greeted them. Before doing anything else, Obi-Wan staggered over to the thermostat and cranked it up all the way, while Anakin collapsed onto the couch. They wouldn’t be able to take off until the storm cleared up, anyway, so they might as well try to heat back up as much as possible.
“My dear Padawan, could you change into some dry clothes while I make us some hot chocolate?” Obi-Wan asked.
Anakin nodded. “Yes, Master,” he said with a hint of a stutter, his teeth still chattering, before scurrying away to the storage room. He had shed some of his sopping wet robes and Obi-Wan’s cloak right on the couch, but Obi-Wan didn’t have the heart to lecture Anakin about it then, not after what they had been through. Luckily, their mission beforehand had been blessedly simple diplomacy, helping Anakin get accustomed to the work of the Jedi. Well, at the very least it had been simple compared to their previous couple of disastrous missions and Obi-Wan’s own wild Padawan days not too long ago.
Obi-Wan sighed and let himself just soak in the toasty heat of the room as he swept his hair out of his eyes and back into a ponytail. He set up the kettle and then rummaged in the main kitchen cabinet for a minute and hummed in frustration when he couldn’t find his usual hot chocolate mix. His usual post-mission tradition was a nice hot cup of tea, but he knew Anakin had much more of a sweet tooth and deserved something more to his tastes after having to suffer through Obi-Wan’s poor planning getting them stuck in a positively dreadful snowstorm. The mix had to be somewhere on the ship, surely.
He pondered for a moment where he could have hidden it before spotting the small cabinet tucked away in the opposite corner of the room. Obi-Wan crossed the room, crouched down, and opened it up to find a blast of memories. He hadn’t opened this cabinet since his Master’s death so many months ago that still stung like it was yesterday. It was stocked with rare and unusual teas that Qui-Gon had had a passion for collecting from all the planets they traveled to. Obi-Wan recognized some but not all of the boxes and packets of leaves as he sifted through them, and a few tears welled up in his eyes.
Obi-Wan already felt more like a failure of a Master for Anakin than usual from his slip-up with the weather. He should have just turned them back around instead of insisting on staying out for so long even as the storm got steadily worse. Thinking of Qui-Gon just made Obi-Wan spiral further back into his mind’s favorite pastime of what-if’s and what-could-be’s and if-only’s. He took some deep breaths and tried not to let his sadness leak over the bond too much, because Anakin deserved comfort now, not dealing with his Master’s mess of emotions and inability to cope properly. He could pull himself together for his Padawan, he needed to, oh Force, he had to get his act together, oh Force, get over it, Qui-Gon, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t—
The chime of the kettle knocked Obi-Wan out of his self-inflicted misery and forced himself back onto his feet, clutching the two packets of hot chocolate mix in his fist. Right. Hot chocolate. He could do this.
He set about preparing the hot chocolate on auto-pilot, clearing his mind and focusing only on his task. He grabbed two old mugs with faded novelty designs and poured in the mix, then the hot water, before stirring both of the drinks simultaneously with two spoons. The rhythmic clatter of the durasteel spoons hitting the sides of the ceramic mugs helped Obi-Wan center himself further in the moment. He left his own mug as is, but added in milk and a frankly terrifying amount of whipped cream in Anakin’s. Oh well, he could be indulgent for a day.
While he waited for Anakin to finish changing, Obi-Wan brought his mug up to his face to feel the heat wafting off of it. He took a sip and let the scalding hot temperature settle within his bones. The rich, slightly-bitter taste was all he had needed from the drink.
Finally, Anakin emerged from the back room, looking cozy in his normal robes but also swaddled in one of Obi-Wan’s numerous backup robes, and Obi-Wan’s heart melted at the sight. Anakin lit up like a supernova in the Force and grinned when he spotted the hot chocolate waiting for him at the table, and grabbed it eagerly.
Normally, Anakin would practically inhale his drinks and whatever food was put in front of him, but Obi-Wan could tell he was trying to savor this one, let it heat him back up and help him recover.
Suddenly, Anakin stood up from his chair and ran over to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan’s middle. Obi-Wan jumped and nearly spilled his own hot chocolate, but carefully set it down so he could pull Anakin further into his arms and return the hug.
“Thank you, Master, this was wizard,” Anakin whispered into Obi-Wan’s chest, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile. Even if he tested Obi-Wan’s patience and teaching skills at times, Anakin really was just a sweet kid. What had Obi-Wan ever done to deserve such a wonderful child?
“You’re very welcome, my young Padawan,” Obi-Wan said back, carding his fingers through Anakin’s short hair. He reached Anakin’s Padawan braid and tugged on it lightly, wordlessly asking if he could rebraid. Anakin nodded and settled himself properly on Obi-Wan’s lap before Obi-Wan began to separate the strands of hair and put them back together, sending the both of them into a peaceful light meditative state.
At his very core, Obi-Wan knew he could get through this. He could get through the tumultuous storm raging outside of the ship, and the endlessly exhausting and delightful challenge of training Anakin. No matter what, Obi-Wan knew he and Anakin could rely on each other. He could truly, finally, put himself back together.