Hello, everyone! Yep, been a while since the story was updated, but I haven't given up on it. ;) A note, though. I've decided to end this story earlier than originally planned and leave plot lines to be resolved in a sequel. Don't worry, though – everything WILL be semi-resolved in this story. I think. Anyway, I may or may not do that – shorten it, that is. :) Regardless of whether it's shortened, it still has a WAYS to go. Several more 20 page chapters, at the very least.
Oh, and here's to hoping more people see that's it has been updated this time. *sigh*
J-Kid: Yep, I've read both of those. Would you believe 'Seeker' was the first fanfic I read EVER? Yep! :D So I adore that story. Hopefully, I explain Xanatos well enough in this one that reading the JA *isn't* necessary. That was one of my intentions. :) And yes, plotline is here – and more of it in this post. ;) Think you can spot my little hints?
Elindal Snape: Thank you. It has a big role. ;)
Culf: Glad you enjoyed! And no, I don't know where I come up with this stuff. :p Why would you ever think I would? ;) Someone is playing matchmaker, yep, and possibly several someones . . . who it is, well, you'll figure it out.
Kiyral Ygant: Twisting Xanatos into a good character was half the fun! I'm glad you're enjoying. :)
Ewan's girl: If I ever did, I'd tell you – not leave you to hopelessly hope for updates. Anyway, I addressed that in the Author's Note up there. I'm sticking to the longer chapters. Glad you're enjoying!
===*===*===*===*===*
Xanatos was usually of the opinion that mornings were an invention of the Sith, but today he knew his normal disgust with it would not even compare to the spectacular hangovers two Jedi had coming.
Xanatos didn't knock to announce his presence. He gently put his hand on the control panel, and the door slid open silently. Muted light cast everything in light contrast. Both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were lying down, apparently sleeping. Except things were switched – Obi-Wan lay on the bed, his hand casually thrown over his head and leaning against the headboard, with a blanket lying lightly on top of him. His mouth was open slightly, and his chest rose with each even breath. Qui-Gon lay on the floor, curled up in all the rest of the blankets, most of the ones from the bed gone to make the floor more comfortable.
Obi-Wan continued to sleep as Xanatos entered, and he took the brief opportunity to take another close look at the Jedi. While he hadn't completely recovered outwardly from being in his own universe, he didn't seem quite so unhealthy. His skin had more color, and while he was just as thin, he appeared to be better rested. The circles under his eyes were gone. It was a remarkable change, especially considering these days in this universe had hardly been easy on him.
"We decided it would be best to continue sleeping away our hangovers," Qui-Gon said quietly, startling Xanatos.
The younger Jedi jumped but made no sound, glancing quickly at Obi-Wan to make sure he was still asleep. "You startled me," Xanatos said ruefully. Qui-Gon had sat up – brilliant, Xanatos, to have missed that – and was rubbing his face while trying to blink the bleariness out of his sharp blue eyes.
"What were you thinking?" Qui-Gon asked curiously, probably having noted the thoughtful look Xanatos had given him and Obi-Wan.
"Wishing for the days you could take peek in my head because of the training bond, Mas – Qui-Gon?" Xanatos reflexively replied.
"Not really. I peeked and found out things I'd rather have not known." The Jedi Master grinned at his former charge.
Xanatos had to dip his head in rueful acknowledgement of that fact. "He looks better," he said softly. "Then before, at any rate."
Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "Good news."
"Yes," Xanatos said faintly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You look worse," he added sardonically, turning his full attention to Qui-Gon. "Although remarkably well-adjusted to the situation."
That earned him a dirty look. As much as a Jedi can manage while still looking serenely dignified, anyway. "At least when I admit I'm wrong, I don't dig in my heels about it," Qui-Gon replied, raising an eyebrow and giving Xanatos a pointed look. "And I'm glad to see that you don't have living organisms beneath piles of clothes. Though I wonder if that's because you haven't gotten the chance to conduct your accidental experiments," he added, with mock musing.
"They weren't living, precisely," Xanatos retorted. "And I was twelve. What is this thing with me about when I was twelve?"
Qui-Gon shook his head, bemused, then immediately Xanatos could see him regret the action as he winced, moving a hand carefully to his head. Xanatos couldn't prevent the immediate satisfaction – nor the spark of guilt at having felt satisfaction.
"Well, the mind trick attempt is a great story," Qui-Gon said with an easy grin. "Was it Obi-Wan you were hiding in here the other day?"
Xanatos cocked his head to the side, and let his smile give the answer.
Qui-Gon nodded without much surprise. Xanatos stepped over to him, and held out his hand. Qui-Gon began to rise, then sighed and took his former Padawan's hand. He rose slowly, using Xanatos' support as needed. Rubbing his back and grimacing, he admitted, "He got the floor first time around, and he's in worse shape. It seemed fair."
Xanatos shook his head. "And I'm sure you're the one that suggested it. No doubt you'll feel better once you get up and stretch."
As the two left the room, Qui-Gon cast another long look at Obi-Wan, who still lay asleep, surprisingly resting so deeply he wasn't woken by the friendly, if sometimes pointed, banter between the two men. The older man's gaze softened. Xanatos wasn't sure what he was seeing, but he hoped it was reality and not something else. He really needed to find out what had happened last night. Qui-Gon had gone from shocked, defiant, and confused to calm and ordered in one night, and he had no clue how it had happened. He doubted his explanation of events had been enough, and had fully expected to come home to a disaster. Which he had, but not the kind he had totally expected. In fact, it could be termed a useful disaster.
Shrugging slightly to himself, he led the way out of the room.
+++*+++*+++*+++*+++*
When the door slid shut behind Qui-Gon, Xanatos walked away to the kitchen, which was only a few steps away. Qui-Gon followed at a much slower pace then Xanatos, then halted, leaning slightly against the wall. Even though not a morning person, he was still doing better than Qui-Gon.
"Do you want some water?" Xanatos said from the kitchen, hardly speaking above normal volume.
Qui-Gon nodded, forgetting that from his vantage point outside out of the kitchen, Xanatos couldn't see him. He put a hand on the wall and leaned against it, feeling tired. Not a good sign at this time in the morning.
"Where is Anakin?" Qui-Gon asked, as Xanatos returned with a glass of water.
"He's meeting Palpatine. Apparently he's also going to meet some Senator that the Chancellor is fond of," Xanatos replied simply, handing Qui-Gon the water.
Qui-Gon humphed and took a sip of water. Paused. Took a few large gulps. He saw Xanatos smirk out of the corner of his eye. Probably remembering all the times Qui-Gon had mercilessly gotten the young man to get up after similar stupid stunts when was a Padawan, and the total lack of pity the Jedi Master had displayed. Qui-Gon sometimes wondered if that was the reason Xanatos so rarely drank.
"Water helps," Xanatos said knowingly.
Qui-Gon grunted in response, and finished the glass. Xanatos nudged him in the direction of the couch, and Qui-Gon took the hint, stepping over there while wistfully looking at the empty glass. He sat down gratefully, letting himself relax. Xanatos got him more water without being asked, then returned and sat to face the Jedi Master.
"So what happened last night?" Xanatos asked, hands folded and expression open.
Qui-Gon pondered for a moment how to begin. He didn't even think of trying to lie, either directly or omission. He became thoughtful, looking away from Xanatos' expectant face as he sought the words he wanted. "I tried, briefly, to get out of the apartment. Obi-Wan and I . . . spoke. About my attempt to leave, and related things. We reacted, treated each other as if we knew each other – I ended up mentioning something that had happened, and he didn't understand. He didn't remember."
Qui-Gon looked up at Xanatos to see if he understood. All he saw was gentle attention. Xanatos was listening.
"I suppose I finally truly realized that Obi-Wan – this Obi-Wan – is not who I remember. They may share physical appearance, even basic personality traits, but their lives were completely different. They made different choices, and became different people for it." He paused. "When I look at Obi-Wan now, I don't see a dead, turned Padawan that betrayed me. I see a man haunted by events in his life – he told me of his Anakin's fall – but going forward nonetheless. I see someone who tried his best, who tried to do what was right. He may not have always succeeded, but he tried."
He looked at his former Padawan. Xanatos smiled, not with triumph but simple gladness that Qui-Gon saw things as what they were. Well, how he saw them, anyway.
Xanatos asked another question after a moment of comfortable silence. "What about before Anakin knocked you out and brought you here? I never got a full explanation from that from your point of view."
Qui-Gon shook his head, nearly dismissing the subject. It wasn't something he really wanted to speak to Xanatos about. "I wasn't acting rationally, for certain. When I realized what I had done, that I had hurt him perhaps seriously, I left to go find Yoda, to get help of some kind. I had forgotten he wasn't here. That was when Anakin came upon me."
"Hurt him seriously?" Xanatos asked, giving him a sharp look and narrowing his eyes. He seemed to letting go the lack of explanation about Qui-Gon's motivations, focusing on what was more immediately important. "From what I can tell, there seems to be no permanent damage. He seems to be pretty accepting – forgiving, even – of what you did, as well."
Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully. "I believe he'll be fine. He seems to be remarkably stable."
Xanatos raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have thought that, considering his condition when I found him."
The other man shrugged. "He seems to have found peace, then. That's what I sensed last night, after I woke here in the apartment."
Xanatos ran his hand through his hair. Sighed. "The man is baffling," he muttered.
Qui-Gon laughed. "Yes. But I suppose it's been a good thing, if what you say is true and he was in such bad shape before."
"Well, yes," Xanatos replied, with a twist of his lips. They shared a companionable moment, both pausing, gathering thoughts. "Did you find anything else out while you were, er, intoxicated?"
"Intoxicated – I believe that Anakin is to blame, yes?" Qui-Gon murmured, resting his elbows on his knees.
Xanatos nodded. "No doubt. I'll deal with that issue later, have no worry."
"I'm sure you'll do a fine job, Xanatos," Qui-Gon replied with humor. "You really should take a Padawan. I have no doubt you'd handle the punishment part just fine."
The younger Jedi stiffened at the mention of taking a Padawan, then relaxed. Qui-Gon looked at him curiously, unaware Xanatos was touchy about that subject. "Perhaps. Regardless . . ." the younger man trailed off.
"He mentioned his Anakin turning. Apparently the Anakin of his universe was his apprentice. I find that . . ."
"Odd?" Xanatos finished. "As did I. Obi-Wan seems rather young for such a responsibility. Our Anakin is being trained by Yoda, simply for his incredible potential. I don't understand why the Council would drop someone like Anakin into a young Knight's lap."
Qui-Gon grimaced. "He mentioned something else, as well, later on in the night. I just remembered – forgive my befuddled mind. He said something about Anakin grieving for his mother."
Xanatos blinked. "You know, he asked me if Anakin knew his mother. He also mentioned slavery – seemed to think that Anakin's mother had been one. Do you think that was the case in his universe?"
"If it was, how would Obi-Wan know?" Qui-Gon questioned. "Jedi are taken from their parents at a young age. We know Obi-Wan was, so the rule must not be any different. I think he would have mentioned it otherwise, for certain. So how could Anakin grieve for what he didn't know?"
A moment of silence. Xanatos spoke slowly, the words coming easily – a conclusion they had both reached. "He did know his mother. And she must have died . . . perhaps even as a slave. Force, what a disaster. Family bonds are strong. They can override common sense so easily."
"So then why was Anakin trained in the first place?" Qui-Gon asked, giving voice to the obvious question. He remembered their talk – of that the fact that there was no coincidences, and perhaps even as Obi-Wan was meant to be healed in this universe, he was meant to help them. Perhaps he was meant to help them with Anakin – a boy he had seen the worst of, had known so very well. Someone their own Anakin shared things with, both in personality, and just possibly, their pasts.
Xanatos gave him a look of utmost seriousness, a disturbed look in his eye. "I think we need to learn more about Anakin's past. Because I think there's something we're missing, and we shouldn't be missing it."
Qui-Gon exhaled slowly, a conscious effort at calming control. "Agreed."
===*===*===*===*
There is something ethereal about mornings, she felt, even here, among the metallic and harsh towers of Coruscant. As the faint light became a true dawn, bright and artificial lights were outdone by soft yellow light that cast everything in gold, colors fading and merging into browns and auburns, soft pinks instead of red, as if the leaves of fall had descended upon the world.
At least, that is how she chose to view it. To see beauty in what others would call unyieldingly bright and edged was perhaps a private delusion, and in her line of work one that could hardly be acquiesced to without the possibility of ceasing to see reality at all. It was too easy to see things as one would prefer.
Padmé Amidala, though, did not believe that she was seeing something that wasn't there – merely something that was hidden.
"Up already, milady?" said her handmaiden, who walked smoothly into the room. In her arms she had a royal blue simmersilk dress. Simmersilk was normally something reserved for dances, or formal occasions not related to work. However, the design of the dress was simple, elegant, and fitted just so, making it appropriate for work and social gatherings.
Padmé smiled at Eirtaé, who returned her grin easily. The young woman had been one of Padmé's handmaidens when Padmé had been the Queen of Naboo. She, along with a few others, had followed Padmé when her term expired, and she ran for the Senate. Eirtaé had been the only one of her handmaidens to naturally look so different from her, with blue eyes and blond hair. She had changed her eye and hair color while playing Padmé's handmaiden on Naboo, but that was no longer necessary. Indeed, rarely were the protective and deceptive measures of handmaidens needed anymore.
Padmé had become queen when the last king, King Verdana, was found to be corrupt. In a nearly unprecedented move, the people of Naboo voted a fourteen year old Padmé Amidala in to office. Some argued it was merely a fluke, a slight risk in peaceful times. But Padmé had proven herself well, being just and deliberate and wise not only in her decisions, but in her choice of the people who carried out those decisions for her. Busy and difficult as this life often was, she didn't regret taking the leap. It was her gift, to be able to do this.
"I wanted to get an early start," Padmé replied finally, at last fully turning away from the window. Her apartment had an excellent view of Coruscant, and while she would normally enjoy it, today she had quite a few things to do in the morning. "I'm meeting Palpatine again this morning. Apparently he's bringing a young man with him, a Jedi he is most impressed with," she added.
Eirtaé's eyes twinkled, and the corners of her lips turned up in a smooth curve. "A young man, milady?" she prompted, lifting her eyebrows.
Padmé laughed lightly. "A Jedi," she reminded, shaking her head slightly. Her curls fell over her shoulders as she leaned over to look at the dress Eirtaé had chosen. It was strikingly beautiful.
"Will of the Force I chose that one, milady?" Eirtaé teased gently.
Padmé shot her a chastising glance, mellowing it with a smile. "You won't be satisfied until I'm married with two children, will you?"
Eirtaé grinned. "Serving Naboo and the Republic is not mutually exclusive from having a life outside of it. There are other things beside work."
Padmé shook her head, not in defiance as much as in wistfulness, and let her hands run over the smooth material of the dress. "Not today."
+++*+++*+++*+++*+++*
It was, Anakin thought, a good day. Well, any day with no angry Xanatos was a good day. Either the drink had not yet been touched, or Xanatos hadn't yet figured it was him. He was hoping for the former, but couldn't help worrying about the later. Regardless, it was also a bright and sunny day, the sky uncharacteristically clear and blue.
Anakin chose to take one of the Temple speeders to his meeting with Palpatine. They were slow and unwieldy – practically asking for an Anakin-style upgrade – but they were reliable. Apparently there was a Senator the Chancellor wanted him to meet. Anakin wasn't sure why – he didn't have much to do with politics. He had, however, agreed to it without argument. He knew he still owed the Chancellor one about not telling the Jedi Council anything concerning one undead lunatic.
As he flew to Palpatine's office – rather recklessly, but still plenty within the speed limit – he thought about Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, and most particularly, Xanatos. He was silently hoping that no one had stumbled upon that rum he had spiked. Of course, Xanatos hadn't called him or asked to speak with him, so that in and of itself was a very good sign. That didn't stop the bad feeling he had about it, but it made him feel slightly better otherwise. Even if they had stumbled upon it – as his bad feeling indicated – maybe Xanatos wasn't too angry.
Well, at any rate, Xanatos wouldn't be able to reach him for a few hours, so he had little to worry about for those few hours. He would worry about it later, when he actually was in a worrying situation. For now, he would not worry about the future at the expense of the moment.
Parking the speeder and walking the Senate office building took no time at all. He did it all very automatically, having done it before. His thoughts were preoccupied with musings on his upcoming Trials, Obi-Wan and his issues, and just generally the whole mess. As he came up the lift, though, he began to get a nervous, tense feeling in his stomach.
Resolutely, he tried to shake it off. He looked outside, to the towers and spires of Coruscant. Sunlight filtered through them, marking them with sharp contrast in the long shadows of morning. It was just a meeting with Palpatine and some obscure Senator. He had nothing to be nervous about. He didn't sense anything in the Force.
The lift doors opened. Anakin walked through, and quickly made way to Palpatine's office. Most of the level was for his use, anyway. He walked past the secretary, giving a wink to the Twi'lek young woman as he went by. She knew him well, and let him pass without protest, even giving a smile of her own. The door to Palpatine's office gave a chime as it announced his presence, and Anakin walked in.
To come face to face with an angel.
===*===*===*===*
The young Jedi that had entered the room unannounced was a young man, perhaps younger than herself. He wore his blond hair in the typical style of a Padawan, was tall, and had well formed features. Surprising, that Palpatine would be impressed with one so young. He was also giving her . . . a very odd look.
He was very still for a moment, then bowed to her and gave Palpatine a half-smile. "Milady. Chancellor."
"I am Senator Padmé Amidala," Padmé said, introducing herself.
"Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Padawan extraordinaire," he replied breezily. He took another step forward to her side, then took her hand and gently kissed it, lingering. Padmé flushed hotly. That was most definitely not normal protocol.
She couldn't quite restrain the amused twitch of her lips, though, and she received a blinding smile. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance," she said formally.
"As am I," Anakin replied. He gave her a studied look, the odd expression fading from his face. He had the clearest blue eyes she had ever seen. The intensity of them surprised her, but it seemed to match the confident aura he exuded.
Palpatine clapped his hands together and said brightly, "I knew you would hit it off."
Not taking her eyes off Anakin, Padmé replied, "It's been less than a minute, Chancellor – one could hardly tell."
"Nonsense. I have good instincts about these things," Palpatine replied confidently. Neither of the room's other occupants were looking at him.
Anakin smiled at her. It was such a perfect smile, and she had a feeling it was purely honest in its pleasure.
"Nevertheless," Padmé said, drawing her eyes from Anakin and focusing on Palpatine, "you surely have a reason for having us meet beyond you thinking we should be friends."
"Of course he does," Anakin responded. "He's a politician."
Padmé looked at Anakin, letting her eyes narrow. "Ah, Jedi Skywalker?"
She had to give him credit – despite nearly implying an insult, he met her eyes squarely. "I mean that, of course, in only the most flattering way to you, milady. If not to the Chancellor." He winked and gave a short bow.
Palpatine laughed.
Padmé felt herself relax, inwardly chastising herself for getting tense at all. She didn't know why she had, really. As Anakin had stated, she was a politician, and politicians are diplomatic and thick-skinned by necessity. Besides, he hadn't really said anything at all. She smiled at Anakin. And again, received that dazzling smile in return.
"My dear Senator, I simply thought you might appreciate having a friend who is on Coruscant. I know you miss your home, Naboo," Palpatine said charmingly, interrupting Padmé's thoughts.
It was difficult focusing on the Chancellor, but Padmé managed. "Oh? And this would have nothing to do with the fact that I am in the middle of a disagreement with the Jedi Council?"
Palpatine gave a look of pure innocence. It was astonishing the man was able to carry it off so well.
Anakin jumped in. "The Jedi Council? I wouldn't worry about them, milady. I would think you would merely have to charm them into whatever you wanted," he said with a grin.
Padmé laughed. "Is that so?"
"Would a Jedi lie, milady?" Anakin replied, humbly lowering his eyes.
"I can see I'm not needed here, whatever my reasons were for this meeting," Palpatine interceded dryly.
Both Anakin and Padmé flushed, becoming aware of their flirting. Padmé noticed him eyeing them both for a moment, his eyes becoming vague and unfocused.
Then he brightened. "I have some things to do, meetings to attend – and I know your morning is free, Senator Amidala. Anakin, perhaps you would keep the Senator company for a few hours?"
Anakin kept his eyes on Padmé, his gaze intent. "If my milady wishes," he murmured.
Padmé nodded, slowly. "Very well," she said, with careful dignity. She shot the Chancellor a look full of amused suspicion, however. Then she turned to Anakin again and smiled, hoping to provoke that grin again. "I would like that."
Palpatine smiled. "Then it's settled."
===*===*===*===*===*
"You know, that old troll is the cause of all our problems!" Xanatos said grumpily.
Qui-Gon laughed shortly, with little humor, and replied, "I'm well aware of his tendencies to be omniscient. I wonder why he did this." He sighed, and paced behind Xanatos, who sat before the data screen in the Jedi Archives.
Xanatos stared at the screen as if he could change it by force of will. It lit his face in a ghostly blue glow, the small shadows making his face appear long as he looked down at it. The entire Archive was hushed and lighted just this side of dim, probably in one of Jocasta's attempts to make people be quiet in there. The only distraction was Qui-Gon pacing behind him. While Xanatos was half joking about Yoda, then again, perhaps he wasn't. First, Master Yoda was gone while Obi-Wan was here and in desperate need of him. Now . . . this.
Access Denied.
"It doesn't make sense. Why would Yoda seal Anakin's home records?" Xanatos asked. "What is in there?" He paused, then turned to look back at Qui-Gon, who was silent. The Jedi Archives were open to all Jedi. Very rarely was something sealed or classified. It was done only in cases where the privacy of the information was needed or important, such as certain ongoing missions or personal information the Jedi Council believed should be kept from the Jedi at large . . . or a Jedi in particular.
Qui-Gon looked back at him with an almost regretful look on his face. "If we are to find out before Yoda returns, there is only one person with any knowledge of the situation at all who can answer our questions."
Xanatos sighed. "Obi-Wan."
Qui-Gon nodded.
"I don't relish the idea of asking him . . ." Xanatos begun.
"Because of painful memories," Qui-Gon finished. "Yes. But remember – why is Obi-Wan here? We know that there must be another reason. I have a feeling that reason is entwined with Obi-Wan and his Anakin's past."
"Yes," Xanatos agreed reluctantly.
There were both silent for a moment, Xanatos privately musing on how willing Obi-Wan would be to talk. How willing would he be to remember things he was just starting to forget? Everything in Obi-Wan's universe was so hopelessly complicated and twisted. There was no reason to believe the situation of Anakin's coming to the Jedi Temple in Obi-Wan's universe was any different. And the fact that the other Anakin came to the Temple at an older age, in and of itself, indicated that it was.
"You think he's still asleep?" Xanatos asked softly. They had checked on him before leaving, and left a note; he had been sleeping very deeply, almost in a trance-like state. For that matter, maybe he was trying to get rid of his hangover, instead of nobly suffering like Qui-Gon.
"I doubt it," Qui-Gon said. "We've been gone for nearly an hour, with you trying to hack into the databanks."
Xanatos flushed. "I was only trying to find a backdoor."
"Hacking."
"Taking advantage of a fault," Xanatos retorted primly. He rose to his feet swiftly, and put his hands in his sleeves in an appearance of . . . sobriety.
Qui-Gon shook his head and gave a soft laugh. "How I ever survived training you . . ." he murmured quietly as he turned to go.
Xanatos voice floated from behind him, clearly exasperated. "Not me at twelve again - !"
+++*+++*+++*++++*
"So what do you do, as a Jedi?" Padmé asked curiously, looking at Anakin, who sat across from her. She took a careful bit of the cikken fish, boiled in Chad seaweed oil. It had a delicate taste.
Anakin took a bite of his food, a hunk of meat from which he was steadily hacking off pieces with his bread knife. "Surely you've met Jedi before . . ." he said, trailing off with a smile.
Padmé laughed. "Of course. But surely all Jedi aren't diplomats."
Anakin gave her a wry smile. "No, that's true. Thankfully for the sanity of some of us."
"So do you go on missions with your Master?" Padmé asked curiously.
"Sometimes. My teacher is Master Yoda, and as you probably know, he rarely leaves Coruscant. I sometimes go with other Jedi, or missions here."
"But not ones diplomatic in nature?" Padmé asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Oh, sometimes. I had to learn the basics," Anakin said. "Yoda insisted," he added with a touch of remembered annoyance. "But there are other things to do on Coruscant besides negotiate. The lower levels, for example, are dangerous places. Some criminal elements also try to work out of here, something we try to stifle as much as possible."
Padmé nodded, looking thoughtful.
Anakin suppressed a mischievous grin and said casually, "Though, with so many politicians here, it's hard to get rid of them all . . ." And nonchalantly took another bite of his food.
Padmé laughed. She had a wonderful laugh, light and cheery without being too girlish. And when she smiled, her entire face shone with it, each lovely feature transforming to express that joy. Anakin had to grin at the sight of it. Her happiness just seemed to spread and fill him too.
Before the moment could pass and become awkward, Anakin picked up where they had left off. "Jedi do many things, beside mediate disputes. We help wherever we are needed, whether it is helping a town evacuate a flood, or go undercover in to break up a slavery ring."
Padmé frowned slightly. "Slavery ring? That must be outside of the Republic, then."
Anakin confirmed that with a nod. "Outside the Republic, there is little, if any, law. So technically it's not even . . . espionage, or whatever you want to call it. And it's the right thing to do. Thankfully, though, slavery is rare, even in the Outer Rim."
"Yes," she said softly, giving a faint, contemplative smile.
No, he wanted to see that grin again. "Enough of business. Palpatine mentioned that you miss your family? You represent Naboo, correct?"
"Yes," Padmé said, and he could feel her mood lightening. "My parents, and my sister – I'm an aunt, these days," she said with a laugh. "I adore my nieces. So, yes, I miss them, but I know I'm doing good here." She paused. "I guess you wouldn't know about your family, though."
"The Jedi are my family," Anakin replied calmly. It was a question he had gotten before, and he didn't have to think about his answer – for that matter, he didn't doubt it either. "An odd one, I'll grant you that, but we love and care for each other. The Padawans are my siblings, the Knights my aunts and uncles, and the Masters . . ." Anakin trailed off, trying to picture Yoda as his parent and shuddering. "Well, so the analogy doesn't always work," he admitted ruefully.
Padmé put a hand over her mouth, but the corners of her eyes crinkled. "Yes, I suppose it doesn't."
"I've been lucky; I have lots of mentors," Anakin continued, seeing her interest and amusement. "Besides Yoda, there's Qui-Gon and Xanatos."
Padmé made an inquisitive sound and took another delicate bite of her food. Anakin felt clumsy compared to her.
"Yes – they were Master and Padawan, though Xanatos is a Knight now. Actually, they just ended . . . an estrangement," he added lamely, realizing in the middle of speaking that perhaps he shouldn't go into all of that, especially with the undead lunatic around. He was surprised at his automatic inclination to simply tell her everything, as if they had known each other all their lives.
To his relief, Padmé merely nodded and didn't ask for details.
"What about you?" he asked, turning the conversation away from himself. "What was your childhood like, if you don't mind me asking?"
Padmé paused, as if to gather her thoughts, then began, "Well, certainly different from most. I have spent most of my life in service. I was fourteen when I was elected Queen of Naboo, and I spent years in the diplomatic and rescue services before that."
Anakin blinked. "That is impressive. Not to insult, but why would Naboo elect a fourteen year old Queen?"
"You're not the first to ask that question," Padmé said wryly. "The last king was found to be corrupt. It was actually an emergency election, though they later reelected me for a second term – and my last. I was . . . very well trained, eager to serve, and I think Naboo saw that," she finished.
Anakin bowed his in acquiescence of that fact. "Still," he said, "it is astounding. How did you become a Senator?"
"The current queen, Queen Sabé, asked me to do so. I accepted," she said with a smile.
Anakin smiled back. The conversation drifted, then faded away, into a comfortable silence. They both ate for a few minutes, content to look at the skyline from the view of the high level restaurant. It often served the Senate, and as a result was particularly tasteful and had a better view than most. It seemed to Anakin like a good place to bring a Senator.
After eating, it was mutually decided that they would go on a walk. Padmé suggested the Coruscanti Small Garden, the less public of Coruscant's two planetary gardens, and Anakin naturally agreed. And he had never gotten the opportunity to see the garden. He had heard it was very beautiful, though.
He wasn't disappointed. The garden had a plant in every shade of red. Anakin would not have normally thought it such a lively color, but in the fresh, domed air and bright surroundings, it was vibrantly alive. Padmé, in her lavender dress, was a spot of peaceful calm in riotous color.
"Does this remind you of Naboo?" Anakin asked quietly, not really wanting to interrupt the peace of the moment, but curious. His curiosity usually got the better of him.
Padmé laughed, and shook her head, giving the vibrantly colored plants another look. "They're beautiful, so in that sense, I suppose they do. But Naboo is a green planet."
"I've never been to Naboo, nor heard of it," Anakin admitted.
"I'm not surprised," Padmé replied casually. "No wars, famines . . . floods. Peaceful place," she said, shooting Anakin a smile. "We're not well-known, in truth, though we were once known as Alderaan's little sister for our pacifist ways."
"Interesting title to have," Anakin observed.
Padmé nodded. "Alderaan was, by all accounts, stunningly beautiful. The people would design and place their cities as to not disrupt the natural beauty of the planet. No one carried weapons, not even the police."
Anakin was silent for a moment, digesting that, then offered, "I must visit Naboo, then, sometime."
Padmé smiled at him. It was a simple smile, but Anakin felt his heart beat faster nonetheless. Even knowing her for such a short time, he felt deeply connected to her. Her every action, the way she tilted her head when acknowledging a point, the way she gestured to punctuate her careful words . . . it arrested his attention in a way he had never before experienced.
"I would like that," Padmé said softly. "I've grown to like you, despite you being a Jedi." She smiled, but a flash of frustration – not at him, but at some memory – showed in her eyes.
Anakin laughed. "Ah, yes, the argument with the Jedi Council. I'm sure you're both trying to do what you feel is best," he said.
Padmé raised an eyebrow, and said archly, "Practicing your diplomacy, Anakin? Placating me without stating your own position, or stating any position at all."
He shrugged, flushing slightly. "I didn't mean it that way. The truth is I know little about it at all, so it would be unwise of me to say anything."
"True," Padmé admitted. "I just feel that they are dismissing my concerns. I would like to see them at least answered."
"What is the situation, then?" Anakin asked.
"There's a planet called Tatooine in the Outer Rim. Its residents are hoping for Republic citizenship, but there is no formal world-wide government. The Jedi believe we should accept their application to enter the Republic and deal with all the problems afterwards." Padmé shook her head. "I simply if we simply step in, we will never stop controlling the situation for them. Help them, yes – but do everything for them? It's a bad precedent, the Senate being directly involved in world affairs, even in a situation like Tatooine."
Anakin considered her words for a moment, then admitted, "I see your point. But what about the citizens of Tatooine? I've heard of the place, and it's often a hotspot for criminals in need of a layover. That can't be good for the honest citizens. Perhaps they see the situation out of control, and no way to rectify it besides getting the Republic involved."
Padmé shot him a sharp look. "Perhaps. I am thinking more of in the long term consequences, I suppose."
"Long term consequences aren't going to matter much to the citizens of Tatooine at this point. And whatever those long term consequences are, I'm sure they'd rather have those than the problems they have now."
"Except for the consequences in the matter of Republic law as a whole," Padmé pointed out. "The Repubic taking over a planet when only part of its citizens agrees to it - well, it's too close to conquering it. Because in some sense, the criminals and those that serve them are also its citizens, are they not?"
"I hadn't considered that," Anakin acknowledged. "It's a complicated issue, clearly."
"Yes," Padmé agreed. "Now if I could only get the Jedi Council to admit that there are other considerations, and perhaps if we do go in, we should take care as to how we do it," she said dryly. "They are usually the first to compromise – or get you to see their way – but this time, they are being unusually stubborn."
"How long has this been going on?" Anakin asked. "Master Yoda has been off planet for a while. Perhaps he could help."
"Not long. When does your Master return?"
Anakin had to think. The past several days had been so confusing and hectic – full of discoveries, reunions, and undead lunatics trying to murder people – it was hard to remember it hadn't been that long. "About a week and a half, I think."
Padmé nodded. "The Senate doesn't vote for another two. Perhaps some compromise will be possible."
Anakin gave her a cheerful smile. The professional, intense expression on her face faded, and she returned the smile. Then she laughed.
"What?" Anakin asked.
"Just thinking of Palpatine. He might have wanted to simply ease my frustration at the Jedi by introducing us – he can be thoughtful, that way – but I think he's also managed to get me to be more willing to see other points of view with this issue. I suppose the Council wasn't the only ones being stubborn," she confessed ruefully.
Anakin chuckled. "Politicians, I tell you. Always more than one agenda." He pretended to look at her suspiciously. "Why did you bring me here again?"
"To seduce you, of course!" Padmé said lightly, nearly smirking, perfectly willing to join in on the fun.
Anakin grinned at her, but he couldn't stop the thought that had popped into his head at her words: I'd let you. "Oh, really?" he said, eyeing her.
She blushed, a light stain of pink covering her cheeks. "Don't look at me like that."
"Sorry," Anakin said, but he wasn't sorry at all. Quite the opposite.
They smiled at each other, both a little uncomfortable but exhilarated. Anakin finally broke the awkwardly sweet moment. "Shall we?" he said, gesturing at the stone pathway they had stepped on.
Padmé gave him an attentive twitch of her lips, aware of the situation as he, and then nodded. They silently continued on.