Chapter Twenty-Two: Whirlwind
Anakin Skywalker was, quite frankly, terrifying to watch while he trained. He zoned everyone and everything, focusing at the task at hand with an intensity that made even the greatest meditation masters ill. With the music blasting in one of the sound-proof training rooms, he punched at one of the heavy bag rapidly, his knuckles bruising and his hair coming out of its bun.
Only a fool could have mistaken the tears on his face for sweat.
"We may have chosen the wrong path in this situation," Mace Windu murmured, folding his arms over his chest while he observed the supposed Chosen One stall for a moment to catch his chest.
"We?" Luminara Unduli glanced at the elder master, folding her arms over her chest. "I objected to this plan - as did Master Mundi, Master Gallia, Master Koon - I believe your former apprentice - "
"I understand your point, Master Unduli. Thank you for enlightening me."
She turned her head back to the glass that separated them from the training room glass - which was, in actuality - a two way mirror. Viewers could look in, but those inside could not look out. They could be sensed, of course - but if Anakin did sense them, he gave no indication, retying the heavy bag cables and beginning to practice something else on it.
"Isn't that a training style taught on Ryl?"
"Naboo," Luminara answered. "From what Padawan Tano tells me - he has mastered several forms of combat...for when a lightsaber is not available."
Windu pressed his lips together. As the creator of Vaapad, she knew he did not disapprove of alternate fighting styles. He encouraged them, in fact.
But the way Skywalker was using the fighting styles as a form of meditation…
Luminara could feel the anger and frustration radiating off of Anakin, barely masking his grief and feelings of hopelessness. He was always a wild card in the Force, shining brightly no matter his mood. It was a miracle he had managed to keep somewhat calm when coming back from his sudden mission, glaring at anyone who dared cross his path and speaking only to Master Yoda.
"Master Unduli?"
"Hmm?"
He shook his head, turning to the training room behind them and palming it open. "Tell Skywalker he received the diplomatic mission to Naboo for the Festival of Light."
"By order of the Chancellor?" Luminara guessed, ignoring the crawl up her spine at the mention of the man. The way he leered at the female Jedi always made her uncomfortable.
"By request of Master Kenobi. He mentioned that Anakin has a soft spot for the planet."
"Ah." Luminara bowed her head at the master, watching him step into the training room. She turned back to Anakin, watching him inspect the blood on his knuckles.
Shaking her head, she palmed the training room open and stepped inside. "Master Skywalker. I have some good news."
"Ahsoka? Ahsoka, are you listening to me?"
She blinked, looking at her concerned friend in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Barriss...I'm a bit distracted today."
"Understandable - but that's no reason to ignore someone."
It took Ahsoka a click to realize her friend was jesting. She forced a smile onto her face, tightening the hold on her fork and bringing it to her lips. I'm eating fruit with a fork...Master would say I'm spending too much time with Senator Amidala.
"It's been an interesting few weeks. Master Skywalker…" she pressed her lips together, remembering how she was not supposed to know of Master Kenobi's mission. "There are no words for what he has been facing."
Barriss took a sip of her tea, leaning her head back against her bed. "No, I imagine not. Master Kenobi and Skywalker...they are not normal Jedi."
"Mavericks," Ahsoka supplied. "That's what Master Windu always says."
"May I confess something?"
Ahsoka spun around in the desk chair. "Shoot."
"I never imagined Kenobi to be so...he was the embodiment of the Code while we were young."
"We still are young."
"Ahsoka. You know what I mean."
Ahsoka dropped the bowl of Ghibli fruit on the desk, wiping away a splash of juice. "I do. Master Kenobi has - had," she corrected herself hastily, drawing her legs up to her chest and rubbing her eyes. "Master Kenobi was a sentient being. Holding him to a pedestal...Believing he can do no wrong...I don't know."
Barriss hummed, tapping her fingers against her mug. "It is true Master Skywalker is moving out of their apartments?"
Mace was stirring honey into his tea when he heard a knock at his apartment door. He didn't even have to focus on whom it was - Anakin was always a whirlwind in the Force.
"It's open!"
Anakin stepped through the door a moment later, glancing around before catching sight of Mace leaning against the countertop. His hair was still wet - he must have just finished his workout and showered when the request to meet came in. "Master."
"Were you expecting a cot and nothing else?" Mace smirked at the uncomfortable laugh that left the knight, taking a sip of his tea while looking around. It wasn't exactly a sparse apartment - it was more of a flat, with every room mushed into one. Books were scattered over every surface, with paintings and musical and film posters hung on the walls. He'd been offered bigger chambers over the years, but he'd remained stubborn in keeping this place. It was his.
"Do you like tea Anakin?"
"Ah...no, not really."
"Caf? Cocoa? Beer?"
Anakin rubbed the back of his neck, still rooted in near the entrance. "Cocoa, if you don't mind."
Mace gave a small smile, setting his mug down. "Not at all - it's instant though."
"That's fine." Anakin seemed to take the hint that he was supposed to sit at table, and did so carefully. In the natural light it was easy to recognize how young he really was.
How young and scared.
"Did I scare you with the request to meet?" Mace asked while he poured water from the kettle into a chipped mug and then dug around for a cocoa pack.
"...a bit, yeah." Anakin tapped his fingers against the table, becoming the quiet young man he used to be. It didn't last long though - he stood, the chair scraping against the floor. "Is that an original 'Ice Queen' poster? From the first run over a century ago?"
Mace smiled a little to himself, remembering the many conversations about musicals and films with a young padawan scared he was being sent back to Tatooine at any moment. "It is. First thing I bought when I had an allowance - saved up for months."
"It must have cost a fortune," Anakin murmured in awe, staring at the poster.
"I thought my Master was gonna have a heart attack when she found out how much it cost."
"...she?" Anakin asked, turning around when Mace came forward. He took his mug, staring in confusion. "I thought...I thought Yoda was your master?"
"Oh hardly." Mace went to sit on his circular armchair, folding his legs. "My master was T'ra Saa."
"T'ra... Master Tholme's - umm…"
"His lover, yes. They've been together since before I was a padawan." Mace turned, using the Force to float his mug still on the countertop to him. He sighed at the young man's stare, gesturing to the identical armchair before him. "Sit Anakin - please."
He took a sip of tea when Anakin sat, trying to think of how to begin this conversation. "I'm not blind to emotion or other's affairs - we're all sentient beings who need love and affection, now matter the form. Personally I don't really understand sexual love or the need to be intimate in that way - I believe the Nubians call that asexual? But to each their own. As long as you don't get an STD and sex is consensual I could really care less what anyone does."
Anakin stared at the carpet, holding his mug tightly in his hands. He looked a little yellow - and absolutely exhausted.
He's probably sleeping even less with the whole Obi-Wan thing.
Mace felt a twinge - well, more of a wall of guilt. He had argued with the green troll for hours and hours about telling Anakin - hell, he hadn't even wanted to send Obi-Wan on the damn mission.
"... everyone preached when I was a kid that attachment was bad. Frowned upon. But then I - everyone has some sort of relationship. Romantic or...or something else. I don't get it."
Mace sighed, setting his tea down on the floor. It didn't take a Force Sensitive to see how on edge Anakin was. About everything.
"There are different schools of thought in the Order. About love and relationships. Things were much different when I was a child...Anakin, I know you think the world of Obi-Wan but - "
"Mace…can we not dicuss that? This Hardeen thing - "
"Let me finish." Mace gave a small smile when the young man sipped at his hot chocolate. "Obi-Wan was fresh out of a toxic and co-dependent relationship - and probably on some level, abusive - with the Duchess Kryze when he became your master. He was drinking and using illegal substances almost daily. There's his PTSD he's never treated, his insomnia, his depression - and that could have very easily tainted your thoughts on relationships until you were old enough to come to your own conclusions."
Anakin set his mug down on the floor, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Why are we discussing this?"
There was no point in avoiding it any longer.
"Because it doesn't take an idiot to realize you and Senator Amidala are in a committed relationship and probably married...and there's more happening in your lives than either of you let on."
Silence. The speeder's outside screeched and zoomed and honked. Footsteps pounded past the apartment door, followed by laughing.
He expected yelling. Denial. Something breaking.
Anakin glanced at Mace, fear on his face. "Don't kick me out of the Order. Please."
Mace jerked his head back, blinking. "Kick you - Skywalker, are you fucking serious? You're one of our best generals, probably our best pilot - hell, your students love you, your padawan thinks you're amazing - the fucking Galaxy is in love with you! Why the hell would we kick you out?"
"...I - I don't know! I'm married! I have - I have Epilepsy! I - I barely understand social cues and - and - "
"Skywalker." Mace rolled his eyes to the ceiling for a moment, waiting for the young man to calm down. "Skywalker... you're not the only Jedi to be married. Trust me. Everyone thinks they have to hide it from everyone else. You're not the only one in a relationship. You're certainly not the only one have some sort of disability - Secura's battled with body dysmorphia for years, Tholme has severe dyslexia, Madame Nu has Lupus, I have Type 1 diabetes - probably 90% of this Order is autistic and has ADHD and some sort of PTSD and so much else."
Anakin stood, pacing around the apartment. It was clear his was battling to keep a panic attack down. He ran his fingers through his long hair repeatedly, sighing and muttering quietly in Huttese.
He waited, picking his tea up and sipping at it.
Waited.
Waited.
"Master Yoda doesn't really know any of this, if that helps you process this Skywalker." Mace watched Anakin turn from the window and look at him, though he didn't move to sit back down.
"...any of what we've discussed?"
"He told me once that diabetes could be cured by having a three cups of tea a day." Mace smiled at the raw laugh that echoed from Anakin. "I have to admit - passing out from ketoacidosis wasn't exactly fun. I still remember T'ra screaming at Yoda outside my hospital room and Yan Dooku holding her back."
Slowly, Anakin walked across the room and sat down on the chair again. "Why is he like that?"
"Master Yoda?" Mace shrugged. "My only defense of him is that he's from another time - truly. When people didn't really announce their medical problems, when Mandalorians hunted Jedi, when people turned to the Dark Side for love."
Anakin sighed, pressing the heel of his palm to his brow. He was quiet for a moment, then began to speak of his Epilepsy, of his wife's health problems. Of his stepfamily, of his fears, of the horrible things that went on in his mind, of how much debt they were in, of the constant fear they were in.
Mace listened. He paused only twice to make sandwiches for the two of them and to check his insulin pump.
It was sort of amazing, he thought when a few hours had passed. That this generation of Jedi kept everything bottled up among their masters, but were so open among each other.
It was always amazing when he made someone sit down and was just the listening ear. To hear what was happening, to be a comforting presence when they felt like they had no one.
Anakin took a breath near 5pm, then seemed to shake himself of the daze he'd been in while talking. "...sorry. I was rambling and -"
"Don't ever apologize for discussing what matters to you Skywalker." Mace leaned forward, hoping his smile was genuine. "If you take anything from today, it's that anything you believe or is scared of happening is valid."
"... Padmé's been pushing me to contact a therapist. Aayla too."
Mace felt his brow crease a bit. "Anakin...you kept mentioning the debt you and Senator Amidala are in...can you afford a therapist?"
"...I... maybe?"
"Yes or no?"
"No."
"Mmm." Mace scratched at his chin. "I'll tell you what Skywalker. By the end of the month, the three of us can sit down and discuss what to do about this insurance and debt thing. I think that's a good first step to helping your mental health and her peace of mind."
Anakin grimaced. "Master Windu...if you're suggesting we apply for the Republic run health care -"
Mace snorted, rolling his eyes while he stood and went to shut the blinds. "Hell no. The Temple has their own insurance - it's not that widespread, which is a shame. Mostly families like the Gallia's, Fisto's, and the Mundi's are on it. Temple workers too, along with Jedi Corp members, Council members, Jedi watchmen, library workers. Probably a few others with severe health issues."
"...and we're eligible?"
"More than eligible Skywalker." Mace went to sit down again. "Skywalker, the only thing that I ask moving forward is that you come to me or any one of your gaggle of friends with issues. There's no need to keep things bottled up inside. God knows we need less of that in this Order."
Author's note: my Mace is ooc. Sue me ;) I enjoy my story and what I'm producing.
Also - as a disabled content creator the conversation about health insurance is one all too familiar with me.
Enjoy this chapter!
ii Digestive Reader ii