Some Other Future's Past
Chapter Three
~
Obi-Wan lay awake for a long time after the young queen left. She and Anakin had bonded more closely than he thought. At first he thought it the companionship of two lonely youngsters – Padmé isolated by her rank, and Anakin through his being so very alien to this gentle world.
Suddenly the thought of the previous day came back with stinging clarity.
What if Anakin was not the only Force-strong youngling?
Closing his eyes, the young red-haired Knight cast for Amidala's presence in the Force.
She gleamed to his 'other eye' with health, strength, and vitality. Determination, compassion, and protectiveness were etched into her being. But there was also soul-deep pain, auraed in anger as an infected wound might be surrounded by inflammation. Her strength in the Force was considerable, but untrained. She seemed divided, fractured somehow.
Obi-Wan then turned his inner eyes to Anakin. If Padmé Amidala gleamed with the Force, Anakin Skywalker was the twin suns of his homeworld. Anakin too, was fearful and in pain, both from the separation from all he had known and the overwhelming circumstances swirling around him like hungry whirlpools. Love and concern for Padmé, and his worry for her, were topmost in Anakin's emotions. Fear for his mother was another factor – worry that she might be hurt or sold away gnawed at his peace of mind.
In short, both young ones were so full of anxiety and tension that it was a wonder they didn't twang in a stiff breeze. Perhaps in teaching Anakin the basics, he might also teach the young Queen. It could only help them.
But Qui-Gon
Grimly, Obi-Wan reached for the bond he shared with his master and sank into the deepest meditation that he had ever attempted.
His master was alive, but so deep in a healing trance as to be unreachable. The injuries to his internal organs had been significant, not only from the intrusion of the lightsaber into his thorax, but from the cauterization of tender tissues. It might be a month before his master was aware of the world, perhaps more.
::: Master, I'm coming for you, but Anakin and Amidala :::
Obi-Wan could not finish, the distance was too great and connection too tenuous. How could he explain that he thought Anakin was in more danger than ever? Or that he felt that Amidala needed the guidance that only a Jedi could give? He couldn't even be sure that Qui-Gon would register or be able to respond to his sending. As he withdrew, feeling drained and ill, a feeling of reassurance washed against him like a gentle wave.
::: what you must, my son :::
Obi-Wan felt as if a great weight had been taken from his chest. Opening his eyes, he stared at the ceiling, feeling a great deal of tension as it dissipated from his being. Anakin and Amidala were not the only ones who needed the basics of meditation, it seemed. Perhaps teaching the young ones would let him be a little more mindful of the foundations his master had been so careful to build.
Throwing back the covers, he sat up and glanced at the small figure sprawled in the window's cushions. Reluctant to return to his room in the Great Palace, he'd chance Anakin's hospitality for another use of the 'fresher facility. Moving quietly, as only a Jedi could, he slipped into the room and closed the door.
Indulging himself in another hot shower, he was gratified to note that the worst of the bruising was finally starting to fade. In another few days, he could resume his lightsaber practice and the more vigorous forms of exercise he favored.
Stepping out of the shower unit, he eschewed the blow-dry for one of the thick, soft towels - wrapping himself in it as he waited for his clothing to come out of the cleaning cycle. Considering his reflection in the mirror-wall, he scrubbed his fingers over his chin, feeling the rasp of stubble.
Maybe he should grow a beard? It might make him appear to be older and thus make it more likely that people would listen to him. Even at twenty-five standard years of age, he still looked boyish. Whoever heard of a boyish Jedi Knight?
The cleaning unit chimed and Obi-Wan reclaimed his clothing. As he dressed, he considered his reflection, once more rasping his fingers over his morning stubble. He hadn't had time to do a standard depilation, why not start the beard now?
He exited the 'fresher just as Anakin's feet hit the floor. With eyelids at half-mast and an epic case of bed-head the boy looked at him and mumbled, "Cumminabrkfust?"
It took him a second to decode the query. "I hadn't really thought about it."
Anakin smothered a jaw-creaking yawn with the back of his hand and mumbled again before shambling to the refresher. "Gimmeminnit."
Obi-Wan repressed a chuckle. Chosen One or not, one thing was sure – whatever the lad was or was not, he was no ball of fire in the morning.
Anakin returned shortly and markedly more with the world. Dressed in what must be his best clothing from home and shaggy hair tamed, he was still yawning but was now semi-coherent. Tucking the tail end of his leg wrap into the top of his boots, he stifled another yawn and waved at Obi-Wan to follow him.
Obi-Wan took the time to appreciate the artistry of the Nubians as they walked through the palace. The natural beauty of the materials had not been overlooked, and the aesthetic of the design was both majestic and organic. How could even the grandest building compete with a waterfall? The Nubian answer had been to make the waterfall in intrinsic part of the design.
"It's wizard, isn't it?"
Anakin had regained the power of speech.
Obi-Wan smiled down at him. "It is, indeed. I've been to many places, and this is one of the loveliest, even with the scars of war still visible."
They walked in silence for a time, Obi-Wan sensed Anakin checking his mental accounting. When the boy spoke, the Jedi was startled by the subject.
"Padmé's afraid." The burst of speech stopped them both. "She's afraid that she can't do it – can't make it right again. Nobody ever thought anything like this would happen when they elected her and she's scared that more bad things will happen because people will think Naboo is weak when they have such a young leader."
"I don't think that anyone will see weakness after her actions; they will see strength and determination." Obi-Wan crossed his arms and considered Anakin's words carefully. "Certainly Nute Gunray has had his illusions of weakness dispelled. She outran, outwitted and tricked him, but that's not to say that he won't be vengeful."
Or that whomever backed the normally cowardly Nemoidians would not try again from a different front.
"When you're that rich, you can pay someone to be vengeful for you." Anakin snorted, echoing Obi-Wan's thoughts a little more roughly. "The Hutts never fight their own battles, not openly, but most of the swooptroops and bounty hunters on Tattooine are on the payroll of either Gardulla or Jabba."
"Do you think that this 'they' will make another attempt so soon?" Obi-Wan wanted to hear the answer unclouded by second-guessing. He thought that his own experience with the Sith might be clouding his judgement.
"Maybe not as big or showy, but, yeah, I think that they will." Anakin looked haunted. "I think that those Sith might be even sorer losers than Dugs or Hutts."
"Then we'll just have to be on our guard, young Anakin." As Obi-Wan patted the child's shoulder, he wondered that 'we.' Was it right that he was tying these vulnerable youngsters to his own uncertain future? "I must return to Coruscant, but not for a little while yet."
Anakin's sunrise smile blasted his doubts to fleeing shadows. "I knew you'd help her. I knew the Council didn't have you whipped. Thank you, Obi-Wan! Only"
"What is it, Anakin?"
The boy looked sheepishly up at Obi-Wan. "Could you not let her know that I told you that stuff? You know, let her think that you Jedi-ed it out? She'd peel me like a mulna fruit if she thought I blabbed."
Obi-Wan could well believe it.
"If she asks me straight out, I will have to tell her. I will just take care to conduct myself so that she does not find reason to ask." He smiled, but said in earnest. "If you feel that Padmé needs help beyond your ability, I would be greatly honored if you came to me, Anakin. I'll be discreet about it."
Anakin's relief was enough that he readily agreed.
As they came to the silver-chased latticed doors of the Morning Room, Obi-Wan caught Anakin's darting look of curiosity at his face.
"Obi-Wan?"
"Yes, Anakin?"
"Did you forget to shave?"
~
The Morning Room was one of Padmé's favorites. Tall windows faced east to catch the rising sun and walls of frescoes in gentle yellow made it a cheery room no matter what the weather. Breakfast, usually a meal she grabbed and ate as quickly as possible on her way from one place to another, had become something of a pleasant ritual for her. Not since living at home had her days started so easily.
She had started this just a couple of weeks ago as something to give Anakin some kind of structure while his future was in limbo. The boy spent most of his days fixing droids and other mechanicals that had suffered damage in the siege, while she had affairs of state to manage and a world that needed so much from her. Bit by bit others had joined in – Padmé's handmaidens, her parents, and sister when they could be here. It was a way of easing into the day, rather than just jumping in with both feet.
Going to the sideboard, the young monarch poured a mug of sweetbark tea and took some rolls filled with a spiced bean paste. She had already brushed and braided her hair, so she had little more to do before Morning Court than to paint her face and put on her dress.
Settling into her chair at the long table, Padmé turned on the holovision, specifying multiple small images from a cross-section of the news channels. The first part of the morning ritual was usually devoted to getting one's caffeine intake and nourishment, but turned to conversation as they eased into the day.
She was sipping her tea and watching a replay of the Senate Appropriations Committee meeting when the doors at the end of the hall opened and Anakin poked his head in. Spying her, he smiled and brought the rest of himself in, followed by Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Padmé was mildly surprised, Anakin had not indicated more than marginal trust in the younger of the Jedi. It seemed that the two had been talking a bit more and to a greater effect than she knew. As for whether or not the Jedi had noticed a third party sleeping in the same room - that remained to be seen.
"Good morning, Ani. Good morning, Jedi Kenobi."
Obi-Wan responded with a bow and a murmured, "Your Highness."
Ani simply gave his customary enthusiastic, friendly hug and a "G'morning, Pad."
The Jedi's eyebrow flickered upward at what he probably saw as improper familiarity, but he said nothing as he joined Anakin at the sideboard. The red-haired Jedi limited himself to herbed rolls with a soft cheese and sweetbark tea. Anakin – typically less restrained – piled his plate with anything that caught his eye.
Padmé marveled to think that he'd be hungry again three hours after he finished it. Eritaé assured her that growing boys ate like that, and with all those brothers, she should know.
Man and boy returned to the table just as others began to appear.
Slowly the morning started. Murmurs of greeting, inquiries of how the night passed and light conversation filled in over the rhythm of eating utensils on dishes. Occasionally a diner would enlarge an image from one of the newscasts and discussion would ensue. At first, the presence of Obi-Wan put disrupted the usual flow, but he seemed to invite inquiry and had astute and interesting comments on events of the day. By the end of the meal, with everyone lingering over their caffeinated beverages of choice, he was starting to fit in.
Anakin's observations were of the pragmatic type, and for a boy of nine, he was an astute observer. An intricate discussion of trade in the Outer Rim had her thinking of making overtures to other worlds as isolated as Naboo. As Anakin pointed out, there many worlds closer to Naboo in the Outer Rim than in the Inner Rim. The Expansion and Colonial Regions were tied tight to the Core worlds and thus to the very interests that had besieged Naboo. She'd study the matter tonight.
Pulling a small datapad from a pocket in her tunic, Padmé made some swift notes. Glancing at Obi-Wan, she also keyed in a request for maintenance to look at the depilatory unit in Anakin's 'fresher. It must be malfunctioning.
~
Leaning back in his chair, Obi-Wan covertly studied the group around the table. This morning had really been very educational.
He was getting a feel for these young women and finding out who they really were as well as who Anakin was. On the pillar-to-post trips from Naboo to Tattooine, Tattooine to Coruscant, and Coruscant back to Naboo – he had not really gotten to know any of them. The Queen and her Handmaidens had been engaged in keeping secrets, at one point he and Qui-Gon had not been on speaking terms, and Anakin trusted Obi-Wan as far as he could throw a Hutt. The battle and its aftermath, the injuries to himself and his master and then the demands of the Council had tied him up until just yesterday.
Now he found himself fascinated by the diversity in this group of similar looking women.
At nineteen, Sabé Mirill was the oldest, and had been a senior cadet in the Academy of the Guard. She was generally considered 'chief-of-staff' of the handmaidens.
Yané Auribi was thirteen - the youngest of the group - and aspired to be Counsel-of-Law.
From a farming family in the Theed foothills, Eritaé Guaran was sixteen - the middle child of seven and the only girl.
Dormé Saspa and Cordé Cana were cousins, both fourteen, and knew the queen from their time together in refugee relief organizations and Apprentice Legislators.
Rabé Paua was fifteen, quiet and shy, but had been a martial arts champion in her age group. Panaka often tapped her as an assistant instructor.
The absent Saché Kial was eighteen, and recuperating from blaster burn injuries at her parent's home in a city called Walhi. An aspiring agricultural geneticist – she had a dissertation due at the end of the summer and had asked leave to concentrate on that.
Obi-Wan was surprised to learn that all the young women – including the queen - were still students. Most received intensive tutoring between official duties and scheduled 'turns' as Queen in order to attend classes.
Anakin was a study in contrasts. Apparently, there was no formal schooling on Tattooine - if you wanted to learn something, you just paid or traded services with someone to teach you. There was no such thing as an illiterate slave, Anakin's mother was a source-code programmer of no small ability and highly valuable. She had taught her son to read, write, and some intermediate-level mathematics – about what one could expect from a child of his age. What was remarkable was that Anakin was also fluent in Huttese, Rodian, Toyardian, and some rather obscure Corellian dialects.
"I'll be taking you to the University District, Anakin." Rabé said softly. "You'll find out what classes you need, and can pick from a lot of different ones that interest you."
The boy looked at Padmé with a 'what's this?' expression on his face.
"Trust me, Ani," Padmé assured. "You'll like it. Captain Olié and Colonel Carris are clamoring to get you into the Academy as it is."
"The Academy? I can learn to fly the big ships? Wizard! I mean that's just rugged!" The brilliant grin lit up Anakin's face again as he turned to Rabé. "Can we go now?"
The table broke out in laughter.
"I told you!" Eritaé managed through her laughter. "I told you he'd want to take pilot training!"
"Like there was a doubt?" Anakin scoffed. "If you were taking sucker bets on that, I want a cut!"
"Anakin!" Obi-Wan scolded. "No gambling! And no percentages on it, either!"
Sabé halted Anakin's reply with an upraised hand. "There's not enough time before Court to go now, Anakin. The proceedings are too important for you to miss. I had a page's uniform put together and sent to your quarters. I'll be down to coach you in a little while."
Anakin nodded soberly, and pushed his food nervously around his plate. Padmé gently squeezed his arm, eyes watching her own plate until she lifted them to pin Obi-Wan with her disconcertingly direct stare.
"What is the likely reaction of the Council to our actions?"
The table fell quiet and Anakin looked even harder at his plate as if trying to find answers.
Obi-Wan added to the silence for a few moments before speaking. "My Lady, I would like to say that they will take our actions," he stressed the fact that he was supporting them. "But after the last week, I scarcely know what to think. They were adamant that Anakin be sent back to Tattooine, which after all the publicity he has been subject to, would likely result in his death."
Anakin's astonished gaze snapped up to the Jedi's face. He had plainly never considered the possibility.
"But he's a just a boy! A child!" Eritaé's eyes flashed and she stood so suddenly that the chair tipped over. "Who would undertake a child's murder?"
Anakin's eyes suddenly looked as if they belonged to someone much older. "Any bounty hunter, Eritaé. They're in it for the money, not the ethics. It's just another job to them."
The entire table sat in shocked silence. Padmé found her tongue first, but the question was not what he expected. "Why did the Council refuse to train Anakin?"
He found himself pinned to the chair by seven pairs furious of spice-brown eyes and had to remind himself that he was technically an ally. "The Council tested him, and while they agree his powers are astonishing, they feel that he is too old, too aware, and too emotional to train safely."
"My master," he continued. "Thought them to be wrong and – initially – I agreed with them. I was raised in the Temple from the time I was less than a month old, and I know how we train younglings. Nevertheless, I realize that Anakin must be trained or he is in even more danger than if he was sent back to Tattooine. The Sith are still out there and if we killed the master, the apprentice will be looking for an apprentice of his own. If we killed the apprentice, the Sith will need another to replace him. Either way, Anakin untrained and defenseless would be too good an opportunity to pass up. I would think that the Sith would stop at nothing to get him."
"You mean more like that " Anakin turned pale, shuddering.
Obi-Wan laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "That is not something that I am going to permit. I will teach you."
Padmé's voice was steady, but she was almost as pale as Anakin. "And what danger are you putting yourself in? You're the one who killed him. The Council may not be pleased at your support for my actions, either. You seem to be putting yourself between a rock and a hard place, Jedi Kenobi."
Obi-Wan did his best to emulate his master at one with the Living Force. "That is exactly where a Jedi ought to be. If you asked Master Jinn, he would tell you that being up in that tower has given them an exaggerated sense of their own importance as well as deprived them of oxygen due to the altitude."
That brought smiles around the table and he looked at each of them encouragingly. "Now, I know you all have preparations to make"
"Actually, Jedi Kenobi, I require your presence at Morning Court." Padmé, now calm, smiled at the Jedi and Obi-Wan was suddenly worried. "You and Anakin will be on the dais with me. Sabé., since you will be coaching Ani, would you see to it that both can find their way to the Hall of the Queens in the Great Palace?"
Sabé assured her monarch that both would be there - with a smile that said they would if she had to twist tender parts to do it.
As everyone was making their exits, the queen's datapad beeped.
Reading the message she called out, "Oh, and Knight Kenobi? Maintenance says that the depilatory unit should work just fine. You wouldn't want anyone to think that you had forgotten to shave."
Obi-Wan had the feeling that it was about to be a very long day.
~