Title: Fledgling
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, save from the original characters and the words!
Summary: AU. One chapter shot at Anakin's thoughts on his daughter's growing independence. Nothing special, just insight into a father's heartache.
Follows on in my Mayco series.
Fledgling
Where does all the time go huh? It seems like just yesterday that Padme and I were looking down at our daughter's face, all tired and scrunched up from the ordeal of being born, promising each other that no matter what, we'd always love her and look out for her. I think about that day all the time, wishing to go back in time and change things. Back then I was too innocent…too naïve, I would have obeyed the council no matter what they asked of me, but now… If things were different and Mayco were born now, then I would fight for her the same way Qui-Gon once fought for me.
I'm a Jedi Knight now. I make my own decisions, but it's too late. Mayco's five now, if I were to tell her the truth now I could jeopardise her future…and her feelings for me. She's powerful and with every passing day she finds new ways to astound everyone around her. She slips sometimes. I've felt it and it scares the hell out of me. Every now and then I've felt her sliding towards the dark side. She's got a terrible power deep inside her that I am ashamed to say, she inherited from me. I saw it again today…
There is nothing so frightening as seeing your own child muster this terrible energy about her tiny self, watching her usually large and beautiful eyes cloud over darkly, feeling anger and hatred coursing through her where normally there is only playfulness and life. I worry for her. I haven't yet approached the council about this yet, nor have they approached me, but I'm sure they know. How could they not? Mayco is such a powerful little being that she bends the Force around her, and when she looses it, the ripples she causes can be felt for miles around…if not more. A few months ago I was on a mission several light years away I felt it even then. My ears started ringing and my skin crept as though a thousand little spiders were crawling all over me. I know I'm her father and I'm heavily attuned to her, but still, the council are wise and intuitive, I'm sure they know about her tendencies. I'm just waiting for the day I get the call saying her training is to be abandoned.
She's looking at me now, large soulful eyes alert and filled with a sorrow that only one so young could pull off. The innocence her features exude makes the pain in her eyes poignant. She doesn't remember the heartbreak I caused her when I gave her up, but she carries with her still the burden of rejection. I feel it every day, the sorrow she hides from everyone, even from herself. I believe it to be my fault. Maybe if I weren't so close, then I wouldn't remind her of it so much. I'm not sure what she's thinking; she's getting better at hiding it these days.
"Anakin," she finally asks, her childish voice causing the corners of my mouth to twitch, but I can't smile. I can't! I'm really not the galaxy's best disciplinarian, but I have to try, I have to let the council see that my continuing to be a part of her life is a good thing. "Are you mad at me?" I hang my head and give her a solemn expression, which intensifies the heartbreak in her blue expressive eyes…she's got my eyes.
"I'm not mad," I say softly. "I'm disappointed." Ah the cliché, but it works. I remember the days when Obi-Wan's approval meant everything to me. Whenever I disappointed him, I felt lower than I ever possibly could had I merely angered him. Mayco evidently feels the same and she hangs her head, her dark lashes lowering, pushing away the pain of my words. For a moment she's truly Padme's daughter; a miniature of her beautiful mother and this revelation makes me feel even more wretched than I already do.
"I didn't mean to kill him," she suddenly blurts out, looking up with a creased brow, and Padme's image is gone, now she's all me. "He was trying to hurt me and Tio. He was trying to…"
"I know," I say gently and she falls silent, looking down at her hands, flexing her unusually large fingers (gets that from me too I'm afraid) as though she's disgusted with them. I can't blame her. It's never easy to take a life, especially when you're so young.
"I didn't mean to," she repeats dejectedly and I believe her. As she has grown a little older she's got better at controlling her emotions. Her mind is much more organised than it was when she was a baby, and yet still part of her wild and turbulent nature remains ever close to the surface. On her first birthday she took her first life. Whether she wanted to or not, her lack of control led to their deaths and it happened again today. Like I said…she has a terrible power. Whenever it is unleashed…people get hurt.
I don't blame her for losing it today though. If she hadn't of killed that son of a bitch then I would have. No one hurts my kid and gets away with it. No one! I think…I think it's the fact that she managed to save her own skin for once that's got me feeling rattled. No one's going to miss that felon who should have been incarcerated in some Republic institution somewhere, so I don't feel angry about her finishing him off, it's just the fact that she didn't need me!
In the past I've gladly put my life on the line to get Mayco and her partner in crime Tio out of scrapes. It's given me a purpose. I'm her father, and that means I protect her (when all other fatherly duties have been taken from me), but today… She saved herself. She's taking the first steps towards independence and she doesn't even realise she's doing it. She's flying the nest…and yet I've never built her one.
"Ani?" She looks up at me again and I can feel my resolve weakening.
"Yes?" She pauses and her mind-reading eyes bore into me for a moment. She knows that it's time to go. She knows that if she stays then something will happen that she can't control…that frightens her. She is so afraid of change it makes me ashamed. I did that to her.
"I'm going to meditate," she says weakly and she climbs to her feet, clutching slightly at her bruised side…my poor little girl.
"Okay," I manage and I look away before I give away even more of this horrible secret I'm going to have to pay for the rest of my life. The girl hovers slightly near my feet, fighting whatever internal battle is rooting her to the spot. Finally without warning she throws her small arms roughly about my neck and hugs me tightly. I return it gratefully, trying ever so carefully not to hurt her already painful injuries…to me, she's still that little child I gave up so many years ago, that little girl I was afraid to touch in case I broke her, and I don't think that'll ever change.
Already I can feel the torrent of emotions welling up in her beginning to still. I'm happy that I manage to have this effect on her. I'm happy at least some remnant of our connection remains in tact, not to be broken by the order to stay away, to keep anonymous, to give up your own child…
"Goodnight," she whispers before getting back to her feet and retreating.
"Night," I call after her as she disappears from sight, and I wonder who won that battle, she or I?
Does it matter? I guess not. Both of us have already lost the war, we lost the day we were separated, so whatever battles follow that day are meaningless really. Man I love that kid, but she's growing up and you know, all in all, that's really the most frightening thing of all, the fact that one day she might leave and I'll just be a memory of her youth. She's flying away…and I can't stop her.