Disclaimer: All belongs to Lucas. Except Meyflax, Desh, the Windghost Pub and the Erbarook. Title of the story AND Lyrics are from "Passing Afternoon" by Iron and Wine.
Things That Drift Away
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There are things we can't recall, blind as night that finds us all
Winter tucks her children in, her fragile china dolls
But my hands remember hers, rolling around the shaded ferns
Naked arms, her secrets still like songs I never learned
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The Holonet was abuzz with the pictures of the Queen-turned-Senator having a drink with the popular singer Stanik. People were giggling over breakfast and lunch breaks about the way Stanik was leaning in a little too close over the table. Body language experts were going on panels and analyzing Amidala's facial expressions, like what the length of her smile and the angle of her face meant for this new relationship. Magazines were quoting reliable sources who spilled copious details about the whirlwind romance, inspiring Absurd headlines like, "Taboo on Naboo," and, "Mr. Amidala?" The headlines were endless, the speculation was wild, and for a couple of weeks, no one cared about the Clone Wars. The updates on the many battles only made it to the late-night news in 30-second snippets. It was as if the media had orchestrated a distraction to allow the public a recess from reality, and the public was lapping it up like a dog.
A few weeks later, at the WindGhost Pub in Coruscant, the Holoprojector on the wall showed Stanik on "Mornings with Marena," all smiles and no wrinkles, speaking out on the rumors.
"Well, you know, I got a kick out of it at first," he chuckled. "We both did. . .but the truth is, Senator Amidala and I are really just friends! She came by where I was staying in Naboo to catch up!"
"Aw, man!" Marena moaned playfully. "Were just starting to root for Stanidala!"
"'Stanidala?'" Stanik shook his head and threw his heads up. "I should have spoken out sooner!"
Meyflax, the bartender, smirked to herself, wiping away a spill on the counter. "Who would have guessed?" she muttered sarcastically to herself.
"I knew," said a short voice from the end of the bar table.
She glanced up to see the source pull his robes tighter around him and walk out of the bar. She paused, watched his movements as hastened out of the bar, but instead of stalking off as usual, he simple leaned against the decorative front gate in front of the glass.
He was her favorite regular. In the beginning, his presence was rare, only stopping by in between missions, and his departure was always swift. As the war dragged on, he appeared more frequently, and always in the early morning, sometimes before the sun even rose. He could be charming and humorous or brooding and sulky. He had come in brooding today, so she wasn't expecting smiles, but this. . .this was unlike him.
So Meyflax made a choice. First, she scanned the room, counting the guests: 5. One of whom was at the bar, preoccupied with a drink.
"Hey Desh!". She called to her coworker on the other side of the room. "I'm gonna take fifteen, okay?"
"Got it," he responded, without looking at her. She tossed the rag on the counter and walked purposefully out the door to where he was still standing. The first rays of sunlight caught his face in a golden glow, with a brightness that couldn't reach his eyes, eyes that were staring listlessly at the empty street ahead. The red scar on his skin was still red raw.
Pulling out a thinly rolled Erbarook, Meyflax held it out to the man and said quietly, "Got a light?"
He show no indication that he had heard her for a full 60 seconds. She kept her arm outstretched, having built up a patience over the past few months.
Finally, he pulled out his lightsaber and activated it. Rolling his head in her direction, he warned her, as he always did, "Just the tip." The second her Erbarook touched the tip of the lightsaber, it was smoking. She put it to her lips and inhaled, relishing in the aroma of herbs and spices released in to the air.
"This is a new combination," she told I'm conversationally, leaning against the gate herself as he deactivated his weapon. "It's the base plant, and then I added Basil and smoked paprika for flavor."
She heard him titter reluctantly. "You're still the only one I know who smokes for the smell or taste."
"Well, if it makes you remember me." She made a show of batting her eyelashes, as she did whenever mild flirtation came into the conversation. He used to blush at her antics, but over time learned how to match them. Now, he could only muster a feeble smile.
They stood there for a moment, observing the quiet street. The breeze blew back the stray hairs that had escaped from her ponytail, and rustled the hem of his robes.
"You Jedi have nice robes," she stated, with every inch of honesty.
"Sure we do," said the Jedi, "but you didn't come out here to tell me that, did you?"
Meyflax blinked unsurprisingly. "They are nice robes."
"You'll never leave me alone when I want you to, will you?"
"Nope." She gave him a satirical grin before asking, "How did you know?"
"Know what?"
"Anakin."
". . ."
"Have I ever spilled to the press? C'mon."
He shifted on his feet with a heavy sigh. She put the Erbarook to her lips, inhaling, waiting.
". . .I would have felt it."
". . .Felt it?"
"Felt it."
"How would you feel something like that?"
"I would have felt it through the Force," said Anakin impatiently.
Meyflax cocked her head to the side, intrigued. "I thought only Jedi could feel each other."
Anakin snorted. "We feel everything, Mey. We just have stronger bonds amongst each other."
"The Senator's not a Jedi," Meyflax pointed out.
"No," he agreed with a stony face, "but we do have a bond."
Her eyes squinted at him; she wasn't a Jedi herself, but she could "sense" things, too. A friendship between a Jedi and a Senator was innocent. A bond through the Force? Could be explained as a strong friendship. But it didn't shed light on what this guy's problem was.
"Allow me to shed some light," Anakin said heavily, and she had to grace to look ashamed.
"She is not dating Stanik because she loves me."
The Erbarook hung loosely from her parted lips as she stared at Anakin, who was determinedly focused on a parking meter a few feet ahead.
Her mind calculating how to go about this calmly, Meyflax blew out a thin stream of smoke and said, "She. . .loves you."
"Yes."
"And you know this. . .through the Force."
"Yes."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "You know this through the Force alone."
There it was; the million dollar question. Anakin's eyes closed. His face suddenly looked much older than twenty-two; The clash of sunlight and shadow gave his features a sunken look.
"I have known since the before the War even started." Something pained tinged his voice. "As I have loved her just as long."
A tingling sensation attacked her stomach, but she kept her mouth shut and her eyes on Anakin, who had opened his now-haunted blue eyes.
"You remember when the Separatists hired a bounty hunter to assassinate her to keep her from voting against their interests. When she came to Coruscant, her ship exploded. Luckily she had used a decoy and came disguised in a different ship. My Master and I were assigned to her protection while she was here. It was the first time I'd seen her in ten years."
Ten years? Meyflax wondered silently. Anakin didn't acknowledge her thought, choosing to continue, a small smile dancing on his pink lips.
"We caught the assassin, but not the bounty hunter. My Master went to go track him down, and I was sent to escort Padmé back to her home planet of Naboo."
The way he said the Senator's first name. . .it was no longer a name anymore, but a fragile crystal levitating in the air.
"We were alone, surrounded by beauty, playing in the meadow, overlooking lakes, sharing dinners alone. . .and I had waited for so long to see her again. . .so I was already gone. It didn't take long for her to follow."
Meyflax noticed that he was wringing his hands, an action of distress that seemed so out of place for a man like him.
"She was my first love," he breathed, swept away by his memories. "She was my first kiss, my first touch. . .my first everything. In two weeks I had caught a glimpse of the kind of love I only dreamed about. And she felt it too."
Meyflax couldn't help it; she had thought of something. "But-you're a Jedi. You're allowed to have relation-"
"You think that would have stopped me, Mey?" he interrupted incredulously. "I was in love! She said the same thing at first, when she was trying to deny her feelings. But soon it was no longer an excuse. I could keep a secret. She could keep secret. We were starting to believe in it, this. . .thing that was brewing between us. We almost believed it could work."
The Erbarook was gripped tighter between Meyflax's fingers. She somehow knew what was coming next; she could vividly recall the news when it hit the Holonet.
"And then Geonosis." His bottom lip trembled. "My Master had been captured by Count Dooku and sentenced to death. We tried to save him-so stupid-we tried to do it on our own, but we were captured too. We would have all died if the other Jedi and the clones hadn't intervened. My Master and I chased after Dooku and tried to take him in. But I-I was too rash, and. . .angry. . ." his gloved hand shook violently as he lifted it up. "He cut off my arm."
Suddenly the scent of herbs and spices was not remotely alluring. She held her breath for a few seconds, not daring to move or make a sound, not when he was clearly reaching the climax.
"The Holonet called it a victory," he spat the word out like poison, "but all we did was escape by the skin of our teeth. War was still the outcome. The very thing we tried to avoid. Now, every Jedi would have to fight, to go on missions, put our lives on the line, on behalf of the Galaxy." Anakin leaned his head back against the gate, bumping it slightly. "We had one more week together, in Naboo. We wanted so badly to make it work-we talked and we argued and we cried-but everything had changed. I was about to be Knighted, sent into space for months at a time. She was preparing to go up against the Senate in favor of diplomacy. We were thrust into this war, and our plans were no longer feasible. The rest of the Galaxy mattered more than us." He took a shuddering breath, the sunlight swimming in his azure orbs. "So we ended it. And here we are now."
His gloved hand dropped to his side with a thunk. Anakin was clenching his jaw with the effort of composing himself. Meyflax, whose throat had gone dry, swallowed gingerly, waiting for him to breathe regularly again. When he was, she chose her words carefully.
"So," she offered, crossing her arms against the wind, "You love each other. And you know you love each other. But you chose not to be together so you could focus on the war."
Anakin's eyes were still closed. "Yes."
"That still doesn't explain your actions in there. If you know that she loves you, why even get worked up over some singer guy who doesn't even matter?"
He opened his eyes and glared at her. "Because he wants her."
"She wants you."
"Doesn't matter."
Meyflax spluttered, "How does that not matter? It means she hasn't been with anybody else!"
"Neither have I," he replied flatly.
"So you don't have to worry about her finding someone else!" said Meyflax in obvious tones. "She's clearly waiting for you."
Anakin huffed, crossing his own arms. "That's exactly why I'm worried," he said bitterly.
Meyflax was getting increasingly confused. "She wants you. She doesn't want Stanik or any other guy, she's only in love with you. Why would that change?"
"It has to."
"Why?"
"Because she deserves a real life!" he snapped, his voice as final as the last page of a book.
Something finally clunked into place. ". . .You want her to move on."
He didn't speak, biting his lip with the air of someone who has said too much.
"You want her to have the hubby and the kid and the pet dog like all the other girls. You want her to have something that she can take out in public without consequence. Even if it's not you."
Anakin shot her a defiant look. "And she will. She just needs some time, but she will."
Meyflax humphed. "Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than me. It's been two years and I haven't seen her with one. Damn. Person." She prepared for another drag off the Erbarook. "I always thought it was the girl who chose propriety over love, but you. . .it's not just propriety for you is it? It's that Jedi life."
"They need me. The war needs me. The Galaxy needs me. And her."
"Uh-uh," she countered, feeling like a detective. "That's not it. If there's one thing I've learned about you, it's that you are the most emotional Jedi in the history of ever. You care more about fairness than rules-I bet you've almost gotten in trouble cause of it. You're the last person I'd peg as 'duty first,' so what's coming first now? Before love?"
For a few moments he did not answer. His face look tight, like the skin was spread too thin over bones. Meyflax took the drag she'd been delaying, breathing out smoke with lazy finesse.
And then, his hand went into his robes, pulled out his lightsaber, balanced it on his palm, and then made a fist around it. She stared at the weapon, then at his face.
He was wearing a look of dull guilt.
A bright lamp flickered on in her mind, and she lowered her Erbarook.
"Oh, Kriff."
He shook his head in agreement. "So now you know," he stated grimly. "This is not just a job. This is my dream. All my life. I've already risked it before. I can't do it again. To lose the Jedi would be to lose myself."
Meyflax let out a low whistle. "So," she concluded. "It was either your way of life or your woman. You couldn't have both?"
"It would have destroyed us. Too many nights apart, too much uncertainty every time I went to war. She would tire of me."
"Or you would tire of her."
No response. She raised her eyebrow.
"You wanted to end while it was still easy?"
An exasperated breath. "Nothing about it was easy, Mey."
"Love is not easy ever! " You didn't have to give it up. She knew he could read her mind, but saying it felt like crossing the line. She rubbed an itch out of her eye as a final question came to her. "So why the bond? Why keep the bond if you're never gonna be together?"
"So she knows I'm okay," he answered testily.
"But she knows everything else too," Meyflax argued, feeling indignant on Amidala's behalf. "She knows why you let her go. Clearly the bond makes you privy to her feelings and vice versa, how does that help anyone? Knowing you let her go, knowing why, all of that just sounds like you didn't love her enough.
"Didn't love her enough?" Where others would have sounded menacing, Anakin sounded heartbroken. "Is that what you think?"
"Wouldn't anyone think that? Doesn't she?"
"You think she was just a passing fancy for me, Mey?"
"I didn't say that-"
"You think this Bond is just for her?"
"You just said it was so she could-"
"I loved her!" he cut across, his voice rising. "I will always love her! And if I can love her. . .really love her. . .then I can let her go." His breaths coming out in almost-sobs, he pressed a hand to his heart. "This is all I have of her. This-coupling of spirits. It is a crumb next to what I could have had! But at least. . .I can feel her, no matter where I am, and I know she's safe and well and happy. She's with me wherever I go."
The deafening silence that followed, the sunlight captured one lone tear glittering from the corner of his eye. Meyflax gazed at it, at him, with a new, melancholy understanding. The man had always been this vessel of turmoil, of conflict; what he wanted versus what he needed. He wanted Amidala, had nearly risked his livelihood for her. But she wasn't what he wanted and needed. That was the Jedi life. He had been faced with two paths that in his mind could never converge, so he chose the one he felt best served everyone. To choose otherwise could have made him a different man. A lesser man.
There was nothing she could say that he hadn't told himself already. He knew what he was. And he would live with it forever.
"Come back inside," she piped up eventually. "You need a drink."
He laughed bitterly. "I'll be tempted to squander my money."
"No, you won't," she shook her head. "It's on me."
Dropping her Erbarook on the ground and stomping it out with her foot, Meyflax grabbed Anakin by the arm and gently pulled him back inside the Pub. To her relief, he didn't resist, but simply sat down in the middle of the table, his back curled forward.
The holoprojector was now showing footage of the war again; a fleet of Separatists starships blasting at anything in front of them, the news anchor explaining the battle and action like a sports commentator-play by play.
Without a word, Meyflax picked up the remote from the top shelf and switched it off. No one in the Pub noticed.
Except for one. As Meyflax was going to get a fresh glass from under the table, he grabbed her lower arm. She looked at the hand-warm and calloused, a small scar marring the flesh between his thumb and his index. The hand slid down lower, until it was gripping her hand. She squeezed back, hoping the gesture to tell him what she couldn't find words for.
Looking up at his face, into the eyes that held shadow and highlights and too many stories for someone so young, she gave him a reassuring smile.
He sent a grateful one in return.
They let go of each other, and she pulled out the glass. "How drunk are you looking to get?"
"Not enough to pass out. Just enough to forget."
"I've got just the thing."
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There are names across the sea, only now I do believe
Sometimes with the windows closed she'll sit and think of me
But she'll mend his tattered clothes, and they'll kiss as if they know
A baby sleeps in all our bones ,so scared to be alone
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A/N: *Erbarook: clash of two Earth languages; italian(erba) and dutch(rook). Roughly translated, means "herb smoke." ;)
Feedback is always appreciated; helps me sharpen my skills. I hope you enjoyed this story!