"It's my life // I'll walk on // Using my own strength to go forward along this endless road."
-"In This Distant Town", Card Captor Sakura.
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Artificial Wings 2a/?
by Meredith Bronwen Mallory
mallorys-girl@cinci.rr.com
http://www.demando.net/
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The Naboo needed Padme. Anakin could see it in the faces of the crowd as they gathered to hear her words; he heard it whispered in the hallways and on the pavilion and in the courtyard. She is our savior, the whispers said, fear putting a little vibrato into each voice. He learned the best places from which to watch her address the people, liked to watch the sun on her painted face and try to see Padme underneath. Often, he imagined she was not in that body at all, but that Amidala was entirely different, something she wore. There was a story about that somewhere-- the woman in the ivory tower who ruled through another body, her true self far too beautiful for mortals to see her and live. That was a fairy tale, but Padme was real.
It would be still another week until Padme could safely shed her robes and take him to her parents home; she needed to stay and calm the people, get the rebuilding started, heal the soul of her precious Theed, and so Anakin waited. His waiting encased him, until he feared speaking above a whisper, or asking one of the Handmaidens for something he could not readily get for himself. He remembered standing n the Jedi Temple, so sure that he had come home, only to be turned away. Promises where made to be broken.Treading lightly, he feared not Padme, but those around her. They looked at him with curious eyes and sharp little thoughts; he could hear the whispers. "What is that child to her?' He took to hiding in the vast library, where he'd managed to find a few books in Huttese, the only written language he could read. When those were gone, he took to painstakingly replicating the Basic characters for his name, as Padme had shown him. Always, he watched when the fluttering of the hand-maids signaled that the Queen would speak; always, he was grateful that she took a meal with him. Inside, however, his frustration grew-- he was between parenthesis, with his old life dead and his new life not begun, which left him with no life at all. He was a ghost-- he thought while shivering in the wide soft bed and curling around his mother's memory-- and perhaps if Padme stopped believing in him, he would fade all together.
The guards did not move when he padded barefoot down the hall, tugging at the sleeping robes that were far too large for his undernourished body. He looked at each pair of eyes through the uniform visors, before he knelt in front of the door to Padme's chambers and pressed his cheek against the cold marble floor. When she carried him back to his room in the white-touched morning hours, he laid still in her soft arms, wanting only her silent company.
He couldn't stop dreaming about the flowers on Padme's burial pyre.
+++++++++++++++++++
Holding the data pad in the shadows so the sun's glare would not distort the picture, Anakin looked from the flower to the screen, and back again. Narrowed blue eyes regarded the plant curiously, before his small fingers fumbled to change the screen. Another image shimmered into the display, this one a twin match to the real bloom just a few inches away. Now smiling, he set the small computer down with care and hauled his body up onto the stone bench, standing on his knees to peer down through the petals of the blood.
"I wouldn't do that," cold fingers curled around his wrist, quick and snake like, biting there. Crying out, Anakin tilted backwards, shuddering with relief when he felt support from the stranger's other arm.
She was colorless and gray in the afternoon sun, with brown eyes that could not be that color, such an affront were they to the warm hue of Padme's.
"You're hurting me," he managed honestly.
"Oh," her fingers uncurled swiftly, claws coming to rest on the swell of her breasts within her dark silk eyes, "I didn't mean to." She snatched scarf out from the folds of her dress, studying each of the red, bleeding half moons in Anakin's flesh before binding the wound with the swatch of cloth. "I should think I've made a very bad first impression."
"No, no," Anakin bit his lip, staring openly at the waterfall of gray locks surrounding the woman, before he vaguely realized he was sitting on her hair. Scrambling to his feet, he stood before her in apologetic uncertainty.
"Well," she climbed to her feet, gathering about her the air that she was just missing *something*. "I suppose we're even then," her smile was just a show of teeth, pointed pearls, and though her eyes glittered with malice, she was so like a child that Anakin could no more be afraid of her than he could be afraid of someone his own age. Her attention flickered briefly to the flower, "That's poisonous, my boy. It says so on the screen you pulled up-- don't you know better?"
"I can't read Basic, Ma'am," Anakin swallowed the murmur, "I was just trying to match plants with the pictures."
"You're Her Highness' ward, are you not?" she turned, hair alive without the wind, with tangles that looked like thorns. "I should hope she plans to rectify that problem?"
"She will," Anakin said defensively, "she has to take care of the city before she can take care of me."
"Ahhh..." laughter, quick and hollow-- she narrowed her eyes looked over her shoulder, beckoning Anakin to follow, "but you wish it wasn't that way."
A pause, open mouthed. "I'm Anakin Skywalker," he bowed as he had seen Qui-Gon do, glad to find something to say, "It's nice to meet you."
The woman laughed, raising a talon-like hand to cover her mouth, "I'm Satsuki Palpatine," she moved her free hand in the air, holding it out limply. Not knowing what else to do, Anakin took it and squeezed it briefly in his smaller grasp. Satsuki's smile was amused. "And I am also pleased to meet you."
"Palpatine..." Anakin began.
"I'm his wife, yes," another giggle, "why are people always so surprised?"
"I dunno, Ma'am," he looked at his feet, suddenly remembering the chill of Palpatine's hand on his back.
"Oh, please," Satsuki tipped his chin up with the point of a single sharp translucent nail. "You must call me Satsuki. Everyone does. Titles are so silly, don't you think?"
Padme's smiling face, devoid of make-up and ceremony.
"Yes," Anakin replied earnestly.
"Good," the old woman's smile was thin, and Anakin did not know how he knew she was old-- her face was unmarred. "Come along, why don't you? I think I'll recruit you to keep me company by the pond. There's sweets in it for you."
Very soft, but also glad to be of some use; "Alright."
"How old are you, my boy?" Satsuki asked as she sat by the stone ledge surrounding the pool. Her posture was more of a 'plop'-- petticoats and satins skirts about her haphazardly. It wasn't like Padme's disarming kindness; this woman was still a child because she was not sane, only particles of her soul seemed to penetrate the hidden veil around her. Anakin shivered with out thinking, looking away and holding his hands very gently at the surface of the water, marveling.
"I'm nine, Ma--" he saw a glitter in the reflection of her rancid brown eyes, "Satsuki."
"Well, you'll be an adult in just five years, then," she twirled an iron gray curl absently, "What will you do, when it is time to leave the care of our most gracious Queen?"
The cords in Anakin's throat froze; the air his lungs seemed to be tears he would drown in. Abandoned. (He is too old to be trained he is too afraid he is--)
"I'm not sure," he took a deep breath, "I hadn't thought about it."
"Our Queen is gracious, is she not?" Satsuki asked, seemingly changing the subject.
"And kind," he added.
"And beautiful," Satsuki's smiles were all so odd-- viper like. "She owes her life to you, for flying against the Federation ship."
"I just--"
"But don't think it won't happen again."
"What?" he swallowed hard, hands fisting in the soft grass as he pushed himself away.
"Think about it," Satsuki's voice was innocent and dreamy, "The universe does not care for kind people, Anakin, let me tell you that." Quite suddenly, "Your mother was kind, yes, no?"
"Yes," he replied, startled. Emotions played across Satsuki's face like lightning.
"What happened to her?"
"Nothing!" Anakin said harshly, "She's still at home... she's still a..."
"A slave?" Satsuki hands were indeed talons, curling around his own. "That's what happens to people like Her." Just a violently, Satsuki dropped his hands and turned away, leaving Anakin to stare through the water and wavering of tears in his eyes.
He watched the ivory-touched pink flowers floating on the fluid surface, no seeing them at all. He floated just as helplessly, looking for something to hold onto, some grand design. He could not be a Jedi.
"But you still have power," Satsuki murmured, as though he'd spoken aloud, "What good is power if you don't use it to protect the ones you love? They're afraid of your power, you know. They're afraid that you can love. Jedi aren't allowed to reveal in either."
"How do you---"
"Can you keep a secret?" she clapped her hands as though she had just found a marvelous game, "My husband could have been a Jedi. You must tell no one this, for it makes people afraid. He could teach you, though, how to use your power."
"Obiwan showed me a few things," Anakin said, feeling suddenly listless.
"I'm sure he did," such a motherly tone in Satsuki seemed out of place, and Anakin looked up to see she had lifted her face to the sky. "We're over here, Lord Husband!"
Movement in between the leaves, like the stirring of a wolf, and Anakin suddenly felt sight anticipation. Wait for it... wait for it...
"Ah, there you are, Countessa Palpatine," the senator's face seemed to harden with his smile, "I should have checked here first. I know you like it so." A sudden shift of the breeze brought Anakin relief, and then Palpatine's gaze. "And young Skywalker-- I have wanted to speak to you--"
"I already told him," Satsuki caroled. Anakin's spine stiffened as he watched Palpatine's teeth bite down on the interrupted sentence.
There was a smile, but not in Palpatine's voice, "The Countessa is always one step ahead of me. What do you say, young Skywalker? I hate to see such talent go to waste."
"I..." Anakin curled his fists and rested on them, unable to divine the nature of these two adults in relation to himself. Staring into the water, he drew on the calm Obiwan had shown him the path too, glad to welcome the ethereal cool of the Force.
A drop of water, just one, disturbing the surface of the pond, and Anakin's eyes raced to the wound without thinking. He watched, blue eyes wide, as the rings spread outward, as if giving birth to something. A globe, glass and just like a bubble floating on the water where it had not been moments before. It swirled with colors you can only capture in water-- a purple that was green, a red tainted with blue, a yellow rimmed by brown that was not ugly. And inside...
Padme, in perfect miniature, delicate and powerful, cradled in the curve of the globe. He saw that she was sleeping with wonderful dreams, and the sight of her made Anakin's heart hurt and long to stop. Love is a stupid word, and nine year olds do not love as men do-- but love was the nearest thing, and this child's love would never change. He reached for the globe, suddenly sure that he had been turned from the Jedi for a reason, that the Queen was good and loved and needed. Cupping the glass between two tender hands, he pulled it towards his heart, horrified when the surface vanished like a bubble risen too high. Padme shattered into petals, countless, shifting on the water.
"Did you see that?" Anakin asked, grasping fruitlessly at the small, blue petals.
"I assure you I have quite no idea what you mean," Satsuki smothered a sound to her mouth and rolling in the grass with it.
"Jedi-- or should I say, Force sensitives," Palpatine's hand rested heavy as a gargoyle on Anakin's shoulder, "are somewhat given to visions, my boy. Use the fear they cause to keep them away."
"So many things can hurt people, Anakin," Satsuki lay still in the grass with her hair like a web around her, dull eyes reflecting the sky because she was empty of everything else. "Age and death and pain and..." she hissed through her teeth, "the plots of others."
"Countessa," Palpatine said warningly.
"None of those things are going to get to Padme," the young boy said determinedly. He rose, relieved when Palpatine's hand fell away, and hurried back to the main garden, where Sabe might arrive with news of supper with Padme. Over his shoulder, he tossed the words, "Thank you, Sir. Ma-- Satsuki."
Palpatine waved his hand to dismiss the appreciation, "Don't mention it, my boy." And Anakin rounded the bend, seeing a flash of Palpatine kneeling by Satsuki's side, and the old child saying "do come to collect your sweets sometime."
++++++++++++++++++++++++
China settling on china, smiles exchanged over fire light and food. They ate on the expanse of Anakin's bed, sitting cross legged and exchanging stories that seemed to nourish them more than the food.
"Watch, Padme," Anakin intoned, gesturing to a small bowl of berries with the colors of a bleeding sunset. She smiled her encouragement, and the smile became an astonished laugh as the berries rose towards her.
"Anakin..." it was breathless, "Did Obiwan show you how to do that?"
"Yup." A berry rose higher, and Padme opened her mouth, delicately taking it between her lips. "Padme, do you think I could go into the army?"
Padme's face stilled, "Why?"
"I want to be a pilot," he answered earnestly.
"You could do that other ways," she insisted, dabbing the juice from her mouth.
"Yes," he said, holding a dream that was his own close; his own eyes behind the uniform visor, outside the Queen's door, "But if I'm in the army, I can help protect you."
"And what if I don't think I need protecting?" Padme teased, sadness blooming behind her black-moon eyes.
Anakin moved towards her, wrapping his small arms around her hips and resting his head in her lap. The question was quiet and without an answer-- for his intense affection had always startled her.
"Why do you think I wasn't allowed to join the Jedi? You said there was a reason."