Title: Through the Child's Eyes -Departure
Author: Lauren A.M. (Red October)
Rating: PG cause...well...for really no reason -l-
Summary: A short reflection on one overlooked, yet profound scene in Anakin's life.
Disclaimer: The characters go to Lucas. The plot and ideas outside the movies and books are mine; everything of mine is Christ's. Its all simple that way. :)
Feedback: Yes, Please!
Dedication: To the members of T1, where a good deal of my friendship, help, and inspiration comes. But most of all, to Jedi Lizzybean, without whom I couldn't even get this thing uploaded, for crying out loud-lol-. I love you all! :)
"In hindsight only can we witness, without bias, what has shaped and scarred us." -Lauren A.M.
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It was months after the quashing of the infinitesimal war that took place at Naboo, a war so small it would be forgotten in annals of post-Republic history, and the royal participants had returned to the stage which had set the turning point in Palpatine's rise to power. They had come to give ritualistic blessings upon the Senate, upon the new Supreme Chancellor, and to give formal thanks that had been due for weeks on end. The young queen had been scorned, condemned even for this broach of protocol, yet reestablishing homes destroyed and cementing the merger of the Human and Gungan kingdoms had consumed her time. And thus when she fnally returned to the seat of the Republic, many anxious dignitaries where heading the onslaught, meeting her at the gangplank. Citizens had flocked to see the Queen; those who had missed her before now reveled in the chance to see a figure that would not step foot on the planet again for many more years to come. Yet it was not her heralded arrival, or short but politically profod stay at the capital that had marked, and likewise scared, a young and yet unknown boy's life. But it was her departure...
...Regally crafted chin angled toward the floor, her heavy brown eyes were drawn toward a place a few paces from the boy's elongated shadow. She had left at sunset with her entourage, the death of Coruscant's sun drawing dark trailing lines from them. Anakin's own shadow had stretched toward the young woman, like a dark outpouring of thoughts he might have shared, should she have asked; if she would have stepped into that dark furrow. He had said his farewells to them beforehand, and it was just as well, for the woman, the Queen once more, had raised her face to speak final grievances and thanks, and his line of sight was swept from view by a flurry of well wishers.
The air was thick with vapor and rising steam from an infrequent shower, and small rivets of sweat ran down Amidala's face and soaked into the elaborate blood-red gown she wore. Her pallid face was accented with deep lines of crimson around her lips, and ebony painted her eyebrows; each longing, sorrowful expression displaced was then over exaggerated. And earlier, when she was forced to display a look of contentment for the crowd, the color lent the feeling to populous. Anakin had struggled through the crowd and now waited at its edges, not daring to go forward as Knight Kenobi had. Her body was angled toward the ship, but her hands held one of the young knight's own. However, the motion was practiced and was nearly always used to foster kinship where a friend's smile or hug could not be given. It had never called forth the look of haplessness discreetly displayed on Obi-wan's face. Anakin might have wondered then of his new Master, but the young boy felt nothing of jealously, felt nothing but a love of fridship for Amidala, no more, and certainly the Jedi hadn't encroached upon it in his brief farewell. The queen had dutifully dropped Kenobi's hand, enfolding her own, and had accented the ramp; her shadow stretched before her, willing her away from both the stricken child and the Knight whom tried not to stare after her.
Anakin did not see Obi-wan for many days afterwards, or a conversation might have been broached. And Obi-wan, fond of the mop-headed boy and respectful of his innocent attachment for the young Queen, might have indeed shared his own feelings for her. Qui-Gon had left his Padawan turned Knight, and so Obi-wan's father figure and mentor was gone, and childhood friends that he could confide in where long since grown and cast out from the Temple with their own missions and lives and masters. Only the boy was left to him; Anakin was his only inheritance. And should he have told the child, Anakin would have, in the way of young boys faced with something uncertain, withdrawn somewhat from the thoughts of his female friend, and dwelt no further on her. In a sense, would have left her memory to Obi-wan, like one might bequeath a great treasure to a close companion. But as it was, young Kenobi was swept away by the Masters, and the conversation to have taken place that night was put on hold for very nearly a decade.
When, indeed, the trouble that was birthed that forsaken dusk came to light, the two players in the game were finally forced to became aware of implications over their shared object of affection that neither man had fathomed. Their problems would not be contained to their small sphere of influence in the community, but would impact every known sector with the wrath of young Skywalker. Skywalker, the boy who stood without movement because of hurt, and choked off from any sound to voice his sorrow as the silver winged craft passed over head, bearing the enigmatic young woman away...
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I want to know God's thoughts; the rest are details. -Albert Einstein