Part Seven
"Home, sweet home," Padme murmured, washing the facepaint off and into a bin of water. She ran wet fingers through her hair, finally loose and no longer piled up in ornate and often heavy headdresses. It was well past midnight when she had finally arrived, and utterly exhausted she simply wanted to fall into bed. That was not to be, however, the work of a queen was never done, and even with handmaidens and impersonators she could only spread the work around so much.
She had spent the last six months traveling the planet. It was both the most rewarding and the most frustrating experience she had ever encountered - and that included butting heads with the hero Qui-Gon Jinn about security.
Sighing, she looked in the mirror as the thought of the fallen hero brought up thoughts of two more. She wondered how young Ani and Obi-Wan were doing; but even a pet project like that had to be put on hold as duty overrode her wants.
The planet was a mess. No, she corrected herself, the cities were a mess, and certain locations of the backcountry were a mess. The people, they were a wreck, occupation caused call kinds of psychological problems and post traumatic stress and opportunities for scam artists and swindlers. Traveling crisscross around the planet, she had connected to her people as never before, she had felt overwhelming sense of reward for her time spent in the old concentration camps, walking amongst the refugee camps, talking to the people, asking what they needed, trying to ascertain what cities suffered the most damage.
The fruit and wheat fields had been razed, the earth dozed and upturned for bases of droid factories, making crop for the year a joke. They may have imported a lot of food; but their major exports of grains and wine... the vineyards! Padme shuddered at how some of the most beautiful plantations on the planet had been scoured and barrels that were hundreds of years old upturned and dumped so callously - were going to be next to nill. Their quarter reports showed that the export market value for their products had already plummeted. Their plasma stores had been utterly raped, every scrap of natural gas that emitted from the swamps and certain plants from the forests harvested and shuffled off to who-knew-where, leaving their three major sources of income confiscated or null. Their other exports, art and architecture and cultural bits, those that weren't destroyed had to be rebuilt; and the mind of an artist was always greatly affected by their mood, and the people were still grieving the tragedy that had occurred.
Padme rubbed her forehead, the next few years would be unbearably hard, until the now became the past, the pain became a memory. She wondered how she could somehow jump-start the process; what policy could she introduce, what initiative she could start, that would get her beloved people up and moving again. Sitting at her desk, she powered up a datapad and tried to generate ideas. In proof, she wanted another survivor found. The media frenzy that had occurred after Obi-Wan had found that survivor had been phenomenal; people cheered and applauded the survivor and tracked her recovery avidly. It gave them hope, and Padme had seen a surge of relief in her people. It had quickly faded, however, as numbers were finally crunched and the amount of destruction became more widely known.
Sio Bibble knocked politely on the door before entering. He, too, it appeared, was up late trying to get work done. That was her one regret during all of her travels, it was incredibly hard to get work done when you were in a different city or town every morning; talking to people - however rewarding - often took more than time that was allotted and kept her from her advisory committee.
Looking up to her trusted advisor, she gave a weary smile. "Please tell me you are here to give me good news."
His returning smile was just as weary as hers. "Only half," he said sadly, stepping further into the room and sinking himself into a chair. "I'm getting too old for this," he murmured. "An old man needs his sleep."
"Says the former professor that loved spending all-nighters with his students debating philosophy," Padme said in a wry tone, leaning away from her datapad. She ran her fingers through her loose hair again, sighing. "I take it you finally heard from Coruscant?"
"Yes," her advisor said. "Palpatine has been making some very pretty speeches; he's a gifted orator, Your Majesty. He's managed to garner enough support in the Senate to send a relief committee; they'll be here in a few weeks I expect with foodstuffs and supplies." He rubbed his chin. "As well as a bill, no doubt, but some of the other senators have been very generous."
"Yes," Padme said, stretching. "Alderaan sent a blank check to our treasury a few days ago. I contacted the Organas, but they said that so long as they see a record of what every credit is spent on then we can use it any way we need. I think I want to put it into financing some kind of memorial here in Theed. The architects are being swindled left and right, and if we finance it rather than some off-planet corporation looking to take advantage of us, we might be able to funnel the money back into the economy."
"It's a sound idea," Sio said. "A plaza, perhaps, or a courtyard."
"Something when you enter the city," Padme added.
"If we're talking construction, then we may need to create an actual spaceport," Sio said. "With all the supplies the Senate will be sending and the increased migration of workers looking for opportunity in all the rubble, the RSF hangar is simply overcrowded."
Padme groaned. "Something else to think about."
"Boss Nass also wants a meeting with you; he says he has an excellent idea that will foster Human-Gungan relations, generate employment, and create a symbol. Of what he wouldn't say."
Padme nodded slightly. She had already had many meetings with the Gungan leader; his gruff and sometimes outright brutish behavior aside, he actually had a very keen mind and some bright ideas. Sio couldn't stand him, though, and was often left arguing over decorum and propriety when the two were in the same room. Padme decided to take that meeting privately; either that of have a handmaiden. No, he deserved her personal appearance.
"And now the bad news," Sio said, his entire face reddening as the thought even occurred to him.
"Let me guess: Nute Gunray's trial."
"Already it's been half a year, and now it's going to be delayed another six months! The courts are more than dragging their heels, they've about ground to a halt. The excuses they are giving are ludicrous; they even said they were unable to locate the Jedi involved! We've already messaged them the death of Qui-Gon Jinn, but still they say that the Temple are withholding the parties necessary to start the trial. Either that or some motion was passed that due process was not being observed; or that some particular right when arresting Gunray was ignored! It's intolerable Your Majesty! Intolerable!"
Padme frowned, sensing her problems were about to become even more complicated. "Is it possible they are thinking of Knight Kenobi as well as Master Jinn?" she asked slowly.
Sio paused in his protestations, the question making him think. "It is possible," he said slowly, rubbing his white beard, "but they also know that young Kenobi is a citizen of Naboo, now; or at least they should. I can resend the information; but it's pure illusion, all they are doing is delaying the inevitable."
"It may also be a larger problem down the line," Padme whispered to herself as a terrible thought occurred to her.
"Problem? Why?"
"They may try to discredit him over the course of the trial."
"Why on earth would they do that?"
"Because he is no longer a Jedi," Padme answered, crossing her legs in her chair.
"What has one to do with the other?"
Padme looked up. "How many Jedi to you know that have left the Order?" Sio shrugged his shoulders, and Padme continued. "I hardly know all the details, but I fear they will use that event to paint Knight Kenobi as incompetent and his word not to be taken seriously."
"That's outrageous! I've read his reports, no one could possibly-"
"I can only hope you are right," Padme said, rubbing her forehead. "Ooh, I hope you are right."
Sio frowned slightly, looking at his queen, before slowly gathering the leverage to lift himself out of his chair. "It's late, Your Majesty," he said gently. "I'll cancel your first three appointments of the morning; that should give you a few more hours sleep. Then I'll assemble the advisory committee and we can talk about something more productive."
Padme looked up, smiling weakly. "Thank you, Sio," she said.
"Your Majesty, I must confess I loathed the idea of one so young taking the throne," Sio said softly, offering his hand to help her up. "Leadership on this scale needs experience as well as maturity and intelligence, but you just keep surprising me. It rather makes me feel young again. I think it only fair that I do what I can to keep you alive to surprise me some more, and Panaka would have my head if I let you die from lack of sleep."
Padme's smile grew more, and she took Sio's hand.
She wouldn't be sleeping late, however. She'd be meeting with Shamde Orlie.
"Rent!"
Shamde blinked as a bent over old man dashed up to her, hand waving in front of her nose. "Rent was two days ago! Pay up or get out!"
The social worker blinked. "... Excuse me?" she asked slowly.
The bald man looked up over his hunched shoulders, squinting at her. "Oh," he muttered. "You're not her. I got no business with you if you ain't a tenant. Get out." He turned around and walked back down the narrow hall he had come. Shamde was halfway up the stairs to the floor she desired when she heard the building's doors open again, and heard the old man start pounding down the hall. "Reeeent!" filtering up to her ears.
She finally reached the right room and was about to politely knock when the door swung open. "Come on in, Shamde!" little Anakin said brightly, gesturing that she follow him. "Wow!" he said. "It really was you! I didn't think it'd actually work!"
"That what would actually work?" she asked politely.
"That Force signature thing that Obi-Wan taught me!" Anakin happily explained. "He said that everyone had a unique Force signature and that after a while I'd be able to recognize people before they ever came in. He showed me how to do it but there weren't that many people to practice on because nobody comes to visit us because all of Obi-Wan's friends are busy at work and all the other kids at school said the place I was living in was a dump which is true but I didn't like them saying it so I didn't invite them over. Then I was practicing one of the kata Obi-Wan showed me from this morning and I heard Old Man Jafan trying to get rent from the lady downstairs but it didn't feel like her and when I realized that I wondered who it did feel like and then I realized it was you! That was really Wizard!"
That made utterly no sense, but then Shamde had learned very quickly over the last six months that Jedi teachings were going to fly right over her head. She sat down gingerly to the table in deference of the mountain of things that were covering it: books and datapads and diagrams of... spacecraft if Shamde recognized the design. There was also a half-empty plate of something that was clearly not Obi-Wan's cooking if the smell was any indication and a cup of blue liquid.
"How do you manage to put this all away to sleep at night?" she asked, trying to imagine what the evenings looked like.
"Oh, most of it's put away by suppertime," Anakin said, waving the question off. "A lot of it is schoolwork and I can throw it in my bag, the rest all goes in the closet or the corner. We don't need that much room anyway, after meditating people sleep very still, Obi-Wan said, and we don't take up much room. It's kinda wizard, really, because Obi-Wan sleeps next to me every night when he gets back and that's why better than when I slept alone on the way to Coruscant or coming here. I had the worst nightmares then, but they all go away when Obi-Wan's next to me. I wonder if it's his Force presence, but I don't know enough yet to know how to ask."
Yep, over her head again. But, at least, she understood that Anakin was settling in well enough. She had expected as much, children always seemed to bounce back quicker than adults. The social worker gave a cursory glance over the work on the table. "So how is schoolwork going?"
"Oh, this isn't that," Anakin said. "But school's okay. Some of the kids there are really stupid and mean, they say awful stuff about us living here and about me being a slave. I try to ignore them for the most part 'cause I know they're just really stupid and if I keep my head down I won't get in trouble. It's kinda like working for Watto, you stay under the radar and when you can't you just don't show any fear. I never thought the whole slave thing would ever be useful."
Shamde didn't completely know what to make of that, except perhaps Anakin was using previous experiences to adjust and assimilate new experiences. After the thrill of attention and being bought and saving all of Naboo, a healthy dose of ego was likely natural, and something Anakin would grow out of like all other boys. Nodding at the thought, she pointed to the blueprints. "Then what's this?" she asked.
"Oh, this is Obi-Wan," Anakin said, his face suddenly becoming very bright. "I told you once, didn't I? He's my project; I'm going to turn him into the best big brother ever. The problem is that he's nothing like anybody I ever knew on Tatooine. His face almost never changes; it's like his viewscreen is permanently off. So, I've been running diagnostics."
"... Diagnostics?" she asked, curious where this was heading.
"Well isn't it obvious?" Anakin asked. "I need to figure out how he works first before I can diagnose any problems he has. It took me a while but I think he's kinda like a consular ship that we learned about a couple of weeks ago. Those ships are really utilitarian and don't have much, like a Jedi; they carry and cater to diplomats, like a Jedi, and their engines are super big and complex, like the Force; and the beds are really comfortable to sleep and snuggle to, like Obi-Wan. I'm trying to map him out like this consular ship."
Oh, if only her cousin Ric were here. Shamde could only imagine his reaction at hearing this.
"See, I figure Qui-Gon is like the navigational computers or something; almost everything Obi-Wan does seems to route through memories of him or lessons by him. The engines are the Jedi, I think; that's what keeps him running. Or maybe they're just the thrusters, I haven't decided which yet." He frowned at the diagrams, before looking up. "This is the biggest problem I've ever had, and building the podracer from scratch was hard..." He looked like he was going to say more but his eyes widened, and suddenly Anakin was scrambling to throw all the blueprints and diagrams into his schoolbag and throw it to the corner.
Dimly, downstairs, Shamde could hear Old Man Jafan. "Reeeent!"
Five minutes later, the door opened and a haggard looking Obi-Wan entered the tiny one-room apartment.
"Well, this should be interesting," he said, eyeing Shamde as she sat by the now significantly clearer table and Anakin, who was deliberately not looking at Obi-Wan as he cleared his plate and tossed it carelessly into the sink. "Dare I ask what has you so jittery?"
... Someday, Shamde thought, some day her eyes would fall on the young Obi-Wan Kenobi and her mind would not automatically jump to that equation. The one that said,
Shamde - 15 years - husband + Obi-Wan Kenobi = Steamy Hot Date Fantasy
Some day. Apparently not that day. But some day.
"Nothing!" Anakin said, too quickly and too loudly.
Shamde couldn't suppress a giggle, nor could she quite stop herself from coming to the poor child's aid. "He has something of a secret project in the works," she offered. "I stumbled upon it just now and he was trying - and failing, I might add - to explain it. He'll show you when he's ready; not before."
Obi-Wan offered a long, measuring gaze to Anakin, before rubbing his face. "It won't cost anything, nor will it interfere with your schoolwork, nor will it distract you from your studies with me?" he asked.
"Nope! Not a bit!" Anakin said in complete confidence.
"I'm one to agree," Shamde offered.
"Very well," he said. Slowly he shrank out of his worn and tattered robe and tossed it neatly over the remaining chair. Pulling his hand away from his face, he looked to Shamde. "To what do we owe the honor?" he asked.
"Social workers, especially with new families and custody cases, it's customary to drop by for unplanned visits. I wanted to see how you two are adjusting." Besides, she mentally added, the case would look great to her publisher. It was such a shame that she could never publish this case study; it wouldn't take much, she'd published amalgams of her case studies before, switching names, altering minor details. This case had instant appeal: insight on Jedi culture and social structure, instant relation of the death of a loved one, trials of hitting rock bottom and moving up; it had all the earmarks of a best seller.
It was too bad she could never publish it. And with that, she carefully closed once again runaway thoughts and focused on the matter at hand.
"You look a little haggard this evening; did something happen at work?" she asked, noting that Anakin set down three cups of tea.
"Hardly anything worth mentioning," Obi-Wan said evasively.
Shamde's thoughts started to run away with her again, her steamy date night being replaced with the image of a frying pan. Obi-Wan often called up the image with his stubborn refusal to ask to help. He still refused grief counseling even though she knew damn well that he was having a hard time working through the depression. Working two shifts of a minimum wage job and looking after a child only perpetuated the stress, and Force be damned she knew he needed help; and he utterly would not ask for it.
Frying pan.
It was another thought she never said out loud.
As she continued asking after the two and seeing how they were adjusting to their new lives, she made a few extra notes in her datapad. She and Padme had had an extended conversation that morning - which had surprised her; as she rather thought that Padme would assign her and be done with it, she was far too busy to keep checking in. Shamde had the impression that the queen had something important on her mind that had to do with Obi-Wan, and so she paid particular attention, frying pans and date nights aside, to how he seemed to be holding up. She would forward them to her Majesty after she wrote them up more formally.
She only hoped the two of them wouldn't have more trials ahead of them.
"Yousa ever smile?"
Obi-Wan looked up from his lunch, Anakin having just departed back for school (which he shouldn't have left in the first place but Obi-Wan was quickly learning there were some things Anakin just refused to listen to). "I beg your pardon?"
The dark brown Gungan sighed, his eyestalks shaking slightly. "Yousa never smile," he said, reaching up and grabbing Obi-Wan's cheek, pulling it to the side. "Like dis," he offered. "But yousa never doin' it."
Obi-Wan quickly wrenched himself free of the Gungan's grasp, rubbing his abused face. "I smile," he offered, though he did admit it sounded just the slightest bit defensive.
"Nosa. You smirk, you grin, you move de corners, but you neber smile. Even den, yousa only makin' dosa for de boy." He paused, looking down at his seaweed lunch. "Mesa lost people, too, in de battle. Brot'er and uncle both. But me knowin' that holdin' it won't be doin' good."
Obi-Wan looked out over the construction. "I know that, too, Augara. I know that better than anyone." Suddenly he wasn't hungry. Visions of Qui-Gon flooded his vision again; memories, conversations, meditations, and the horrible last day. Promise me you'll train him. "That doesn't make it any easier. I can only trust that it will come with time." As much as Obi-Wan knew, intellectually, that Qui-Gon was consumed with the "now" and the result was that Obi-Wan himself was always an afterthought, in his heart he couldn't stop feeling shattered because even in his dying breath he didn't think of his Padawan; and now he would never know. Had the argument before, their disagreement over Anakin, had it broken their relationship? Did he forgive him? They had talked before, Obi-Wan had apologized, Qui-Gon had offered deep words of praise, but was that it? Was that awkward moment all he had to use as a goodbye? It hurt just to think about it.
Later.
Rubbing his forehead, Obi-Wan stood, dusting himself off and putting away his foodstuffs. He cast his senses out to the site, trying to work out what needed the most help. "Best we get back to work before our esteemed foreman decides to further curb our pay."
Augara made a face at the very mention of the foremen. "Hesa bombad boss. No Gungan pay dis bad."
"I agree," Obi-Wan said slowly. It was another mistake in the string he had been making since this affair had started. When he had sought out work he had been naïve enough to believe that employers would be fair to their employees. Being paid by the bucket in the beginning had made sense, and Obi-Wan had even been understanding, thinking that the economic turmoil that always followed invasion would make the pay hold out before things evened out. Blast, he had even thought at first that the pay was actually reasonable.
Then he had to start paying bills in the poorest district in Theed and he realized how little he as actually making. Even working double shifts he only had enough for rent, bills, and food. There were no savings to speak of. Almost every single credit went out as soon as he earned it. At this rate, he could afford the parts of a single lightsaber in fifteen years time. He groaned at the thought. Walking Anakin home and listening to other workers proved that he was not alone in discontent. After the first two months several workers offered their resignation, and in retaliation the foremen refused to make recommendations and blacklisted anyone who left. The message was clear after that.
"Mesa no understandin' why nobody speakin' to him."
Obi-Wan smiled softly at that. "He's rather disinclined to listening to his workers. His actions have proven that."
"Then how do wesa stop him?"
Obi-Wan didn't immediately answer. Ultimately, the workers would get together and demand restitution for the abuse they had been suffering, and the dispute would enter some kind of mediation or negotiation. Obi-Wan was trained for that of course, be he performed such negotiations after being briefed on both sides, and he was hesitant to offer his services until he knew all the facts. The workers were looking to unionize, and Obi-Wan did not know enough about what fell into the umbrella term other than "fair working conditions," and Obi-Wan still could not comfortably say he knew what that was. He felt - as was almost constant these days - woefully overwhelmed because there was so much he didn't know and he didn't know where or how to ask.
He wished Qui-Gon were there.
"Listen to the Living Force! Would it tell you to wait if there were people in need? You are too focused on the future! The Unifying Force cannot help you with the Now, do not look to it."
And yet even after six months of training himself to look to the Living Force, he still did not feel comfortable with it, still could not be sure if his instincts were right. There was no one to offer an opinion on his decisions, and that lack of very simple support froze him in indecision.
He did not trust himself.
How could he when he was responsible for the death of his master?
And so he went back to work with Augara, hoping that things would change.
Anakin was slouched in his chair, stewing something fierce. It had been an absolutely horrible day. Shuffling his feet, Anakin scowled miserably down to his crossed arms. He'd been sent to the office. Again. He'd gotten into an argument. Again. This was his third strike. Again. So Obi-Wan would be called in. Again.
It really was no wonder that his mood was so foul.
The kids at this school were just so stupid. Once they saw a new kid, they saw fresh meat. Anakin had been expecting this, as this happened whenever a new slave was brought in by an owner. He'd seen it happen before and he knew that callous and idiotic things would happen until a new equilibrium was established, like when a new part was added on a podracer and everything shook and trembled until all the kinks were worked out. So when comments were made about how he lived in such a tiny apartment, and what part of town that apartment was located, he'd just brushed it all aside. He didn't like hearing about it, so he stopped inviting people over. Simple fix, equilibrium reestablished.
When the kids had stopped tearing into where he lived, someone found out that he'd been a slave and started harping on that. Again, this was predicted. Anakin knew that people looked on slaves with either pity or as less-than-civilized. The teachers looked with pity and understood. The kids thought he was beneath them. That he was a moron because he was a slave and that he didn't deserve to be at their school.
Once he started outperforming them in class, they'd shut up, as he knew they would. Equilibrium once again reestablished. By that point, however, he'd been sent to the office quite a few times about disrupting class when others were teasing him, despite his best efforts to ignore them.
Obi-Wan had been very helpful. He provided a sympathetic ear and would emphatically state that the other kids were wrong to say such things and clearly didn't understand anything of his position. This, Anakin greatly appreciated. Then Obi-Wan would lecture about what giving in to anger would do. That feeling the hurt and injustice of it was fine, but acting out of anger was dangerous. It reminded Anakin of when Qui-Gon had found him beating Greedo for a cruel remark and Qui-Gon had told him that anger led to bad things.
So Anakin did what he could to ignore it, or fight back without anger. He'd gotten particularly good at turning their insults around and throwing them back, but Obi-Wan was starting to talk to him about putting others down and what it did to their feelings. That lecture got confusing, especially when Obi-Wan said that such things usually came from someone who had no confidence and what confidence was Anakin lacking that they could work on improving together?
It wasn't that everyone at this school was a cruel sleemo. He'd made a few friends in his piloting class and there was one really nice girl in his diplomacy class that was younger than him that he would study with. They made the day bearable. But, despite his best efforts to keep his head down, Anakin had earned a reputation among the student body as a tough-guy that needed to be taken down a peg.
All he wanted to do was learn, something denied to him back on Tatooine. And these skocha-kloonkee were getting in the way. Since Anakin was free now, he wasn't going to let anything get in his way to the things he wanted.
It was why he ignored Obi-Wan's consternation whenever Anakin went to visit him at lunch. What Obi-Wan never seemed to realize was that Anakin always timed it when he went to lunch. He always made sure that he had a free period and that he checked in with the teacher to let them know where he'd be. ("I'm going to check on my brother, I don't care what the rules say. I'll be back by the end, I promise; you can time me.") The teachers weren't happy with it, not in the slightest, but Anakin kept true to his word. One time, a school official even followed him, not that she knew Anakin was aware of it. And the days when Obi-Wan was feeling particularly down, Anakin checked in with his teacher, regardless of whether it was a study or not. Obi-Wan always smiled more when Anakin checked in on him, despite protests, and Anakin wouldn't stop helping his brother, no matter what the school said.
But today, Anakin had gone too far.
That day, for the very first time ever, Anakin had gotten into an argument with a teacher.
Normally, when a teacher was sending him out, Anakin knew better than to shout back or argue or put up a fight. Doing so only made a problem worse, as his experience with Gardulla the Hutt sharply reminded him from dusty memories before Watto owned him and his mother. Even with Watto, arguing always led to more work and yelling.
While no one had power over him, not any more, Anakin did acknowledge that others still had authority. He didn't particularly like it when a teacher had to throw him out for being disruptive, but he did understand that it was his own fault for letting the koochoo get to him and that the teacher had a responsibility to the other students in the room as well. The same went for the Security Guards, who had to enforce the laws that Padme put in place. It was what they had to do. Anakin didn't have to like it, he just had to do it. But he would because Padme knew what was best for Naboo.
That day, however, Anakin had argued with a teacher. It had been a lesson in engines and one of the examples being given was of some of the podracer engines from the professional circuit. The class had been eagerly pouring over the engine, running diagnostics and figuring out how things worked. Anakin had, naturally, started teaching his classmates about the racers and how to tweak engines to get more performance; since the model in front of them wasn't up to the snuff he was used to. The teacher had taken issue with this and said Anakin was wrong.
Anakin? Wrong about podracers? Come on!
And for every valid point he'd made from his vast experience, the teacher had dismissed him, saying that he couldn't just take what he read in magazines and apply it.
Anakin had been dismissed.
Even Watto didn't dismiss him when he had something to say about podracers! Watto would argue and shout, but he would ultimately have Anakin do what Anakin needed to improve the podracers to improve Watto's winnings. This teacher thought he was just a kid who did a lot of looking on the HoloNet for specs and diagrams. That was wrong and brought up so much feeling Anakin had exploded into some of his most vile Huttese as he explained every single piece of the engine, what it did, what the output was, and what real racers did to improve engines.
Thus, Anakin was sitting in the office, waiting for the vice-principal, Verutine, to pull him into his office and talk to him. Again.
Anakin didn't care much for Verutine. He understood that the man was vice-principal and was tasked with kids who misbehaved and setting them straight. Whenever Anakin was sent out, he already understood what had gone wrong and didn't need Verutine to explain to him how to fix things. He already got that thank you and didn't need salt in an open wound. Verutine came across intimidating and Anakin didn't take intimidation well. He'd had enough of that and he wouldn't stand for more. He knew arguing wouldn't help his case, but he wouldn't just sit back and let Verutine try and scare him into doing the right thing.
So Anakin couldn't say he was looking forward to being in Verutine's office again, but it didn't really affect him one way or another.
No, what really had him stewing so horribly was that Obi-Wan was going to be called in.
That was what was so bad.
Obi-Wan, Anakin had learned, very rarely shouted. He could get frustrated, or exasperated, but Anakin's brother never really got angry. Once Anakin had realized that, he knew that he'd have nothing to fear. Granted, as a Jedi, he doubted Obi-Wan would ever raise a hand to him, but Anakin knew he could be a pain, and he never knew what would ultimately push Obi-Wan over the edge.
But Obi-Wan didn't have to get angry.
All Obi-Wan had to do was look at him with disappointment and Anakin felt worse than skocha kung.
Ever since Obi-Wan had told the Jedi he was staying, Anakin had started to get an idea of exactly what his new brother had given up to do so. He doubted that Obi-Wan had ever had to worry about finances, rent, bills, etc. Obi-Wan had given up a comfortable life with friends back at the Temple to make sure that he was trained. Anakin might not get all the finer details of that, but he did realize that it must have been a huge price to pay.
For him.
It was instant loyalty for Anakin. Obi-Wan was committed to him in a way only his mother and Qui-Gon had ever been before. So Anakin worked hard at everything Obi-Wan asked him to do. Even the stupid meditations in the evening before he went to bed that were so karking hard. Because Obi-Wan had given up everything and Anakin couldn't not do the same in return some how.
His brother was always fair. Fair almost to a fault. He wouldn't grant Anakin any favors if he did something wrong. He'd acknowledge the feelings behind it, but he'd still discuss with him what a fair consequence would be. It was something that Anakin appreciated, the discussing. It wasn't an owner handing down rules from on high. It was a thoughtful discussion that, granted, Obi-Wan could always steer the way he wanted to be, but by the end Anakin would always reluctantly agree because he understood why Obi-Wan was doing what he was doing. He never liked it, but he understood.
So Anakin always strived to be better. To be that perfect pupil that Obi-Wan deserved. One who wouldn't screw up so often. His brother said that it was expected for Anakin to stumble, he didn't have the benefit of growing in the Temple, but Anakin still wanted to leave that qualifier aside. He wanted to be better now, so that Obi-Wan would wear that smile of pride more often.
"Mr. Skywalker?"
Anakin looked up, interrupted from his stewing by Verutine himself, standing tall. He looked like that Jedi Council Member, Mace Something-or-other, only with hair, and he stood firm and unyielding.
Anakin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, something Obi-Wan always advised when he was angry to let out his feelings. "Anger clouds one's judgment, Padawan. You must learn to let it go and think with a clear head." This wasn't easy. At all. But Anakin kept trying. Arguing with the vice-principal wouldn't help, so he needed to reign in his temper.
Standing, he silently followed, taking another deep breath.
"Have a seat, Mr. Skywalker."
Anakin sat in the small office, staring back down to his feet. Verutine walked behind his desk and took a seat with a deep sigh.
Another deep breath and Anakin decided to try and start this off on the right foot. "I'm... sorry for yelling at the teacher," he said quietly. "I know podracers better than she does, but if I have to disagree, I shoulda done so politely."
Verutine blinked, leaning back. "Thank you for that, Mr. Skywalker. Given how you usually blame other students for your arguments with them, I was expecting you to defend yourself."
Anakin scowled. The other kids did always start it, but going on the defensive now wouldn't help. He'd handle this the way he thought Obi-Wan would. Calmly and rationally.
"My issues with students are issues with students," Anakin bit out, before taking another deep breath. "Whether you believe me or not, I try not to get into arguments with them. The teacher today, however," Anakin swallowed some of his frustration, "was unacceptable, especially for a classroom. I was..." Anakin clenched his teeth, "angry at being dismissed on something I know so much about. I needed to either pull the teacher aside or talk to someone else about it."
Verutine, who normally scowled at students in his office, raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Very good, Mr. Skywalker. Very good. While this is a good step in the right direction, I feel I must express concerns to both you and your... guardian... about your tendency to argue and fight back so much."
Anakin continued to stare down at his feet, refusing to argue about the tone Verutine used whenever referring to Obi-Wan as his guardian. Shamde had said that people wouldn't understand why Obi-Wan hadn't come out and adopted him. Anakin expected a certain level of looking down one's nose where that was concerned. But they didn't know about him and Obi-Wan. They were brothers. Obi-Wan just wasn't used to the idea because he'd never really had a family before. Anakin knew it was going to take time to get Obi-Wan to realize what they were. Probably even longer to get him to admit it. But that didn't make it hurt any less whenever someone like Verutine sounded like they were sneering at Obi-Wan's hesitance at adoption.
Deep breath. Again.
"From my experience," Verutine continued, "if a child such as yourself has such trouble dealing with their anger, there are usually other things going on. I know that you and your... guardian... are having some financial difficulty. Is there anything else going on that we should know?"
Anakin looked up, surprised. Just what was Verutine asking?
... No...
...He couldn't be implying... that Obi-Wan was doing something to him?
He saw red just as the door behind him opened.
Anakin stood, anger and hatred and contempt swirling around him. "How dare you!" he shouted. "How dare you! You know nothing! Do you hear me? Nothing! Obi-Wan's the kindest, most gentlest, most nicest guy in the whole galaxy! He gave up everything for me! Everything! He didn't have to!"
"Padawan!"
"He could have left me back on Tatooine to be a slave or dumped me in an orphanage, or any other number of things and he didn't! He chose to give up his life to stay with me and raise me! Don't you dare say he's no good to me! He's patient, he doesn't yell at me, he explains and explains and explains till I get it right and he treats me like a person! A person!"
"Anakin!" "
"And he's grieving and he's lost and he doesn't always know what to do but he tries anyway! I am so sick of people putting him down just 'cause he wasn't expecting me in his life! He didn't adopt me because he didn't want it to look like he was trying to replace my mother! He's always doing stuff like that! He always thinks of others first and himself last!"
A pair of strong, familiar arms had pulled him back from leaning over the vice-principals desk, but Anakin paid no attention. He started spewing out the most vicious language he knew, starting with the oh-so-familiar Huttese and interspersing the newer Basic words he'd learned from his classmates.
There was someone kneeling in front of him, hands on his shoulders, but Anakin only had eyes for Verutine as the invective and defamation continued. Nobody... nobody insulted his family! Whether it was his mother, Padme, or Obi-Wan, he would not tolerate anyone showing them anything other than respect.
Two fingers touched the center of his forehead and suddenly all the tension drained out of him. The anger was still swirling, but it was no longer as all-consuming as it had been.
Padawan! Anakin!
With a blink Anakin looked to the side and saw Obi-Wan's worried, pale face looking over him.
Oh.
Anakin's face scrunched up. Of all the karking, loca, stoopa, idiotic things to do, he'd given in to his anger. He'd failed Obi-Wan. Spectacularly. Anger disappeared in an instant as tears welled in his eyes and he reached forward and hugged Obi-Wan as tightly as he could, sobbing uncontrollably.
I'm sorry, he tried to say. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. No anger and I failed and got angry and am such a disappointment and you deserve so much better than me and I'm supposed to help you not make more trouble... Anakin's self-debasing kept on going as Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around him
Such anger, he heard Obi-Wan whisper. I had no idea... my fault... it's all my fault...
Anakin pulled back, ready to tell Obi-Wan just what he thought of that, but Verutine interrupted.
"Mr. Kenobi. I'd recommend taking young Anakin home. We can discuss things later."
Obi-Wan picked up Anakin easily, since Anakin wouldn't be letting go any time soon. Anakin wasn't sure how Obi-Wan knew that, but he took it in stride. "Very well." His brother turned to him. "Anakin? Is there anything you still need for your homework?"
Anakin scowled. He didn't want to do homework tonight. He just wanted to talk to his brother. Apologize and get things back to normal. But he sighed. Obi-Wan was very firm on homework and responsibility. "We can stop off at the classroom," he said. "I gotta apologize to the teacher anyway."
Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin thought he sensed something like approval, but it was hard to tell through his own emotional upset.
"Then let's go home, Padawan."
Author's Notes: I think one of the personality traits listed for Anakin is "fiercely loyal." We tweaked that ever so slightly to "viciously loyal." Given his circumstances he generally thinks nobody loves him, and so the ones he knows love him (or he loves himself) he will put on a pedestal and refuse to let anyone speak ill of them. We can picture many a fistfight with other kids that made fun/insulted his mother for being a slave, and so it isn't really a stretch to think he'd start a fight if he thought someone was questioning Obi-Wan's ability to parent him.
He blew things out of proportion, of course, but then Anakin does that sometimes. Besides, he's a kid, kid's often blow things out of proportion.
We have to give the kid credit for trying to be good. This is the kid that you genuinely like in the classroom but know can be a holy terror when angry. I had a kid like that, sweet as could be, sensitive and very shy with his math ability; but piss him off and you could hear him down the hallway - and that's assuming he didn't take a swing. Anakin is something of a challenge to teachers, some will come to dread him and others won't have a problem with him. It depends on what the teacher/principal does to earn his respect. Obviously, this vice principal committed a mortal sin. Anakin will never respect him and always be defensive.
Obi-Wan is still angsting, even six months after the fact. He's trying, but indecision is stilling him - even with Qui-Gon's advice screaming in his head. He'll turn around. Eventually.
And the trial. We have many plans for the trial.
One thing we've tried very hard to be clear on is about depression. People have this idea of what depression is, laying around the house and doing nothing, crying all the time, or even snapping at someone or something. It's not. Persistent depression is a lot more complicated. Someone we live with won't ever go see a doctor, but the two of us are fairly sure she can be diagnosed with clinical depression. She still gets up every morning and does whatever needs to be done and can even laugh and make jokes. But give her anything unexpected, and the reaction will be on the negative side, and there is a distinct tendency towards lethargy and happiness doesn't come easily.
Obi-Wan is going through depression, but he isn't completely hampered by it. He has a hard time being happy, but he can be with Anakin and he knows its not healthy and keeps trying to shake it. But without some sort of help it's just going to take him a long while to find a balance for himself.
And really, how many of us look at Obi-Wan and go through some sort of similar equation? At least she remains professional about it. And the need for a frying pan balances it out quite nicely. ^_^
Next chapter: A visit.