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“I was a slave on Tattooine,” he tells the mirror. “The Jedi freed me. There is no slavery in the Galactic Republic.” He says it until it rolls off his tongue as easily as the truth. Obi-Wan always looks so proud when he does.
Obi-Wan isn’t the worst master he’s had. He wants to believe he’s good, wants to believe he saved Anakin, wants to believe they’re brothers. Anakin gives him what he wants, anger and resentment festering under his surface. He learned how to hide it before he learned to walk.
He’s under no illusions when he graduates. He was safer when he had Obi-Wan to go to, now he answers to the entirety of the Order. He pushes and pushes, finds exactly where the line is, finds exactly what they will and will not do and when they will and will not do it. They never remind him when Obi-Wan will hear, it would ruin the illusion he wants. They never bring it up when the Chancellor is around, and Anakin spends more and more time with him to spite them.
When they give him the 501st, he tries not to get attached and he fails. “I was a slave on Tattooine,” he tells the Legion when they ask why he cares so much for a few disposable clones. “The Jedi freed me. There is no slavery in the Galactic Republic.” It’s a warning - the best he can give them. Don’t remind them what they are, they’ll hurt you for it. The look in their eyes tells him they already know and his anger grows on their behalf.
When they give him Ahsoka, when she calls him Master, he checks her records twenty times over in every infobase he can break into. The Hutts prized Togruta for slaves almost as much as they did Twi’leks, but she’s not a slave - was never a slave - and he’s relieved. “I was a slave on Tattooine,” he tells her when she finally asks the right questions. “The Jedi freed me. There is no slavery in the Galactic Republic.”
It’s not until after Umbara, that he tells someone the truth, knee to knee and forehead to forehead in bed with his captain, whispering so close they’re breathing each other’s breath and tasting each other’s tears. “I’m still a slave,” he tells Rex, in apology. “Master Jinn never filed the paperwork. I was his property when he died. His property was remanded to the Temple. I was old for a Jedi, and already very powerful. The Council wasn’t going to give up a way to control me.”
I’m sorry, he means. I couldn’t ignore a summons from my masters, he means. Rex nods, forgives him, understands. After all, Rex is a slave, too.
“I honestly don’t know anymore,” he tells him, too, “if Obi-Wan is in on it or kept in the dark.”
Rex tells Cody to be careful more often after that. The two of them start having long conversations in Mando’a.
“Cody’s found your records,” Rex tells him much later. They’re knee to knee and forehead to forehead once again, the safest way to talk without being overheard, a leftover from sterile Kamino barracks and dirty, sandy hovels. They pretend the questing touches in the dark don’t happen, that the kisses are all accidental. It’s safer that way. “He’s going to ask General Kenobi. He says he can take it. He says he’d rather know.” He shakes with fear for his brother, and Anakin holds him.
Obi-Wan breaks orders.
The Negotiator meets up with the Resolute, unscheduled.
“Can I hug you?” Obi-Wan asks when he sees him, where he’s never asked before.
Panicking, Anakin looks to Cody, a step behind and to the left of his general. If it’s a trap, Cody will know. The Commander shakes his head, and so Anakin does, too.
Obi-Wan nods, takes a step back even. “Does anyone else know? Senator Amidala? The Chancellor?”
That doesn’t make Anakin panic any less.
“Sir,” Cody says, sternly. “You sound like you’re trying to ferret out a mole.”
Obi-Wan grimaces and paces, frantic. “What do I say here?”
“‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I want to help’ would be a good start, sir.” Cody’s sarcasm is as scathing as a sandstorm, and it’s that which finally clues Anakin in to what’s happening.
His knees fall out from under him, and he leans his head on Rex’ thigh, distantly feeling his Captain and lover's hand come to rest on his shoulder. He’d never dared hope - He’d always wanted -
“The Chancellor knows,” he finally says, much later.
Something sharp and dangerous glints in Obi-Wan’s eyes at that. “And the man responsible for writing and maintaining Galactic Law didn’t put up a public fuss until the Jedi freed you?”
Anakin frowns and mulls that over and finds that thinking anything ill of the Chancellor is like wading through syrup. “I was so grateful,” he says slowly, thoughtfully, “that he offered me his office as a refuge that I didn’t even realize it was so much less than the bare minimum.”
Obi-Wan nods at that, and then says something that has Cody and Rex reeling. “Senator Amidala can use this to pass her clone rights bill, but only if you consent to it, Anakin.”
As Anakin nods, and the four of them make a heavily encrypted comm call to Naboo, something in the galaxy shifts.