Anakin's crying fit ended as quickly as it had begun. He was long accustomed to suppressing his emotions around anyone but his mother, and since it appeared the Jedi disapproved of emotion as much as slave masters did, Anakin gained control of himself as rapidly as he could. He sat up in Radha's lap, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.
Radha stroked his hair, disturbed by how quickly Anakin had stopped his tears. "It's all right, child," she said.
But it was not all right. Nothing was all right. Anakin couldn't understand it. How could he have achieved all his dreams, to be free, to train as a Jedi, and yet be so completely miserable? All he wanted to do was go home. He wished Qui-Gon had never come to Watto's shop.
Life, however, had never given Anakin any choices. He accepted his fate with the same helpless resignation he always had. He wanted to stay curled up in Radha's comforting arms, but he had to get used to the fact that no one here was going to love him. He resolutely pushed at her, and she let him go.
"Well, we have at least one of our guests of honor here," Vilnis said, smiling warmly at Anakin. "I suggest we not let this feast go to waste."
Yes. Food was something Anakin would never refuse. He slid out of Radha's lap and returned to his seat, as the Prince's parents piled his plate high with servings from half a dozen dishes on the table. "These are Obi-Wan's favorites?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in skepticism.
"Yes," Vilnis assured him. "Or so Bail tells us."
In the little time he'd spent with Obi-Wan, Anakin was surprised to hear the Jedi would express any preferences at all. Certainly Obi-Wan had hardly eaten anything so far as Anakin had ever seen. Still, the food looked and smelled delicious. Maybe Obi-Wan wasn't quite as severe as Anakin thought.
He dove into the meal with relish, barely pausing to swallow before cramming his mouth full again. The food was good: flavorful, fresh, and wonderful. Anakin did his best to eat everything on the table, and as his belly filled, his good humor returned. He was dying to ask why they lived in such a big house, but he had not forgotten Obi-Wan's rebuke. Instead, he said, "The Prince said you have a boat."
"Indeed," Vilnis answered, his face lit in a smile. "Would you like to go sailing?"
"Yes, please!" Anakin's eyes shone in delight before he could control himself. "If my Master says it's okay." His master. Just like Watto. Would Obi-Wan be any kinder?
"I'm sure he will," Vilnis assured him. "Obi-Wan loves to sail."
"He does?" Anakin wondered what else Obi-Wan might like to do.
"He and Bail often go sailing when he visits Alderaan."
Anakin silently processed this information. "How often does he come here?"
"Oh, I'd say a couple of times a year. He's been a regular visitor for quite some time now. I expect you will be, now, as well."
Vacations? Maybe things wouldn't be so bad with Obi-Wan after all.
Radha continued, "Obi-Wan is like a son to us. We're very happy to welcome you into our family as well, Anakin. Please consider Alderaan your home."
They thought of Obi-Wan as their son? So far as Anakin could tell, none of the other Jedi had parents. That had been one of the hardest things for him to deal with at the Temple, the fact that everyone seemed to view his having a mother as an oddity. He couldn't talk about her to anyone because no one understood. If anything, the subject made them feel strangely uncomfortable. Radha's words of welcome threatened to melt his composure, and he stared at his plate for a moment, blinking rapidly as he struggled to recover.
Noting the boy's trouble, Vilnis offered, "Why don't we dip into that cake? I hope you still have room, Anakin."
Anakin smiled brightly, "Oh, yes, please, sir!"
Vilnis picked up a knife. "How big a piece do you want?" He held the knife over the cake, marking out a bigger and bigger piece, watching Anakin's smile grow proportionately wider.
"Really, Vil, that's quite enough," Radha cautioned.
"Nonsense. A young boy should eat himself sick with cake as often as possible." He winked at Anakin, then sank the knife into the cake, cutting a large piece. "We'll start with this, and if you want more you may have it, although if you are at all like Bail when he was your age, you'll want to save some for breakfast tomorrow."
Cake for breakfast? In his wildest dreams he'd never imagined such a thing.
By the time Anakin had managed to stuff the last of the cake into his mouth, he thought his tummy would split open. Never in his life had he been so full. His satisfaction at having eaten so much was marred by the fact that Obi-Wan and the Prince had yet to reappear. Bail's parents didn't seem worried, however, so Anakin was determined to hide his concern. He wasn't a baby who needed coddling, after all.
The three of them cleared off the table, then Bail's parents led Anakin into another room, unlike any he had ever seen before. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with shelves full of books.
"Wow!" Anakin exhaled, his eyes round with wonder. "I bet you have every single book that was ever written!"
"Not quite," Vilnis laughed. "Do like to read, Anakin?"
Still drinking in the sight of so many books, Anakin shrugged, "I -- I guess so." He had never had much opportunity to read for pleasure, though he had certainly seen paper books before. They tended to hold up better in Tatooine's dry weather, whereas datapads eventually fell victim to the ever-present sand.
"Feel free to browse through these books anytime," Vilnis offered.
"Thank you, sir!"
Vilnis chuckled. "So formal! Quite the proper young Jedi already. But you and I are friends. Please call me Papa Vil."
"And call me Mimi," Bail's mother added.
Anakin beamed, "And you can call me --." He stopped abruptly. No, not Ani. His mother called him that. He had left that life behind. No one would ever call him by that name again. "You can call me Anakin," he finished.
"We would be honored to, Anakin," Papa Vil graciously replied. "Now, perhaps you would like to have me read you a story?" he suggested, moving toward one of the bookcases.
"I know how to read," Anakin protested.
"Of course you do. But my children enjoyed having me read to them, and I thought you might like it as well."
"Perhaps Anakin would like to read to us, instead?" Mimi offered.
No, that would definitely not do. He had already learned that he was way behind everyone else his age in schooling. He had no desire to make a fool of himself in front of these people. They had been so nice to him. "I would like it if you read to me, Papa Vil."
"All right, then," Papa Vil replied, pulling a slim volume off one of the shelves. He settled down into a large, stuffed chair and gestured for Anakin to join him. "Come here, Anakin. You're not too big yet that you can't sit on my lap."
Anakin hesitated. As a Padawan, he was supposed to be quite grown-up now, but Obi-Wan wasn't here to reproach him for it. Obi-Wan had vanished. No one would tell him no if he wanted to be a kid for just a little while longer. Gratefully, he climbed up into Papa Vil's lap, settling against his broad, warm chest as Papa Vil opened the book and began to read.
It was a story about a girl and a boy who discover a magical planet that only appears once every hundred years. Anakin liked the story, but what he liked most of all was the feeling of being held and cared for, the vibrations of Papa Vil's voice rumbling through him as he lay against his chest. Perhaps this was why Obi-Wan had brought him here, to be cared for by these people. Anakin wouldn't mind that at all.
What with the excitement of the trip, a full stomach, and the comfort of Papa Vil's arms around him, Anakin was soon nodding off to sleep. He was barely aware of it when Papa Vil stopped reading, gathering Anakin in his arms and carrying him up to bed. He woke up enough to get dressed, and then Papa Vil and Mimi tucked him in. Still, Anakin couldn't release his anxiety. "Where is Obi-Wan?"
"I'll let him know you're here," Vilnis assured him, smoothing back the boy's spiky hair. "Sleep well, young one."
"G'night," Anakin mumbled, nestling deep into the giant bed.
Radha and Vilnis left the room, shutting the door quietly behind them. Vilnis shook his head pensively. "A strange one, that boy."
Surprised, Radha asked, "How so?"
"He seems awfully sad for a Jedi child. Uncertain, needy. Jedi children are always so well protected."
Radha glanced back at the door to Anakin's room. "There is a story here we don't know."
"Undoubtedly," Vilnis agreed. "Now, where do you suppose Obi-Wan and Bail have gotten to?"
"Obi-Wan," Radha mused. "Now there's another story we know nothing about."
"And probably never will," Vilnis sighed, draping his arm around Radha's shoulders. "We're just the parents. They never tell us anything."
"Obi-Wan is not actually our son," Radha pointed out. "He owes us no explanation."
"Of course not, but he's the closest thing to an in-law we'll ever get from Bail, which means I care about him."
"Do you really think we should go looking for them right now? They might be... occupied."
"I did promise the boy, Radha. Besides, I can be discreet." He winked at her as they approached the room that had been assigned to Obi-Wan. Vilnis knocked on the door, quietly enough that if the two men were indeed "occupied" within, they could pretend not to hear it.
But after a minute the door was opened by a pale, drawn Obi-Wan. He was not crying, but his eyes were red and swollen. He bowed slightly and apologized, "I'm sorry about dinner."
"Nonsense, son," Vilnis dismissed. Glancing into the room, he spied Bail seated on the couch. "The leftovers are in the kitchen if either of you are hungry, though there's not much left. Your young man managed to put quite a bit of it away."
"Where is he?"
"That's what we came to tell you. We just put him to bed. He was wondering where you were."
Obi-Wan dropped his gaze, a flush of shame coloring his pale cheeks, and Vilnis realized the young knight had taken his comment as a rebuke. He reached his hand out and placed it on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "We're deeply sorry for your loss, Obi-Wan. I wish there was something I could say or do to heal your grief."
Covering Vilnis' hand with his own, Obi-Wan looked up at him. "Thank you, your Highness."
Despite his gravity, Vilnis smiled. He had never been able to get Obi-Wan to address him less formally.
Obi-Wan turned to Bail. "I suppose I ought to look in on him." He hesitated awkwardly, and Vilnis wondered whether he and Radha should leave, but before they could excuse themselves, Obi-Wan continued to Bail, "I'll see you tomorrow."
Bail nodded and stood, crossing the room without saying a word. As he approached the door, Obi-Wan reached out to him, drawing him into a tight embrace. "Thank you," he whispered. Bail remained silent, clinging tightly to him before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, then releasing him and leaving the room.
The door closed behind him, and Bail stood for a moment, looking terribly young and vulnerable. Radha slid her arm around his waist. "How is he taking it?" she inquired softly.
"Not well," Bail admitted. When he said nothing more, Radha glanced at Vilnis. He had been right. Parents were never told anything. No matter. They loved their children anyway.
"Come, dear," she said, giving him a kiss. "Let's get you some dinner."