Chapter Text
Owen is no stranger to his brother being… odd, for lack of a better word. He’s known since they’d met, since he’d first seen him.
It’s Jedi magic, or so he calls it, as much as Ani hates it when he calls it that. But that’s what it is, whether or not Ani wants to admit it, and even if he finds it odd he would never begrudge him for it.
Which is not to say he’s never… frightened of it. He is. Often, even. His brother is not human, or not entirely, and it’s something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. From the moment they’d met, Ani had never acted like a normal child, or any child at all. Owen has his doubts he ever was, much as their mother wants to believe it.
All this to say, it’s far, far too late for guests, both the suns disappeared behind the horizon, and there’s a Zabrak at their door.
Owen does not have the same capacity for Jedi magics his brother does, or any capacity at all, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling the pressure of this man’s strength.
It’s so very unlike Ani’s, he thinks. Ani is strong, certainly stronger than this man, but there are sharp edges here he’s never sensed in his brother. He gets the sense Ani tries to keep himself under wraps, keeps himself tightly coiled, and that is not present here.
He gets the sense this man could not hold a candle to his brother, but that is precisely why he immediately feels more afraid.
And this is why he abruptly turns and says to the man, “I’ll get him.”
He knows, somehow, maybe simply because this is distinctly Jedi (or not, if Ani is to be believed), that the Zabrak is here for Ani.
Owen must be correct, because Ani appears to have sensed him. He’s already on his way before Owen can even call him.
He immediately brushes past Owen and out the door to join the Zabrak, and if his tongue weren’t quite so heavy in his mouth Owen would certainly complain about it. As it is, he simply keeps out of the way and resigns himself to sitting at the kitchen table until the two are done.
The two settle on the low wall outside the home. If it were anyone else, Owen would worry about two people alone in the middle of the Tatooine desert, but he knows better than that.
Their voices are quiet between them, and he would have no hopes even without the winds that he would be able to hear them. Instead, he simply waits.
“You didn’t need to stay up,” Ani tells him when he reenters. Owen can’t entirely read the expression on his face. He doubts if he’ll ever be able to.
He shrugs. “I did.”
Ani scowls at that, but he doesn’t say anything, just settles across from Owen at the table.
They stay quiet for a long moment. Owen notes the way the moonlight travels across the space between them until Ani is coated in it. He turns his head, and the image in front of him flickers, just for a moment, until his brother looks like something else, something different, something large and dark and inhuman. He shivers, suddenly cold, and looks away.
“Who was that?” He asks, to change the subject.
It’s Ani’s turn to shrug. “Someone who wanted my help.”
Owen clicks his tongue. That could mean any number of things, but mostly that Ani doesn’t want to say any more, and he knows better than to stick his nose where it’s not wanted.
“Did you give it?” He asks instead. That’s all that really matters, in the end.
Ani hums. “I did. If he takes it remains to be seen.”
“I imagine he did in some way, if he sought you out.”
There’s a huff, and Owen suddenly gets the sense his brother is far older than his teenage years. He feels that way sometimes, that Ani has lived so much longer than him, that he’s seen so much more, and it leaves him feeling surprisingly… small.
“I suppose you’re right,” Ani says, which has Owen blinking. Ani is usually so bullheaded that it catches him off guard, and in a less serious conversation he knows he would be teasing him for it, but he can’t quite muster the energy.
“I am glad he sought me out,” Ani continues. “I didn’t expect it, as much as I’d hoped.”
“You were expecting him for a while, then?” Owen asks, trying to read between the lines.
“No, not expecting. Just waiting.”
Owen resists the urge to say, Semantics, but he knows what Ani means. He hums.
They stay at the table for a while longer before Owen finally leaves, right as the suns start to rise. There’s work to be done, and it doesn’t wait for Jedi business.