A/N: Written for ExtraPenguin! I originally started this fic for May the Fourth, because I was delighted to see a request for Mace & Anakin. I love these two and was happy to find someone else who also loved the both of them, plus I've wanted forever to do an AU where Mace trains Anakin and the galaxy is better for it. Please enjoy this fic about them bonding over tea and Mace supporting Anakin through the more painful parts of his past.

Given Anakin's tumultuous background and late arrival to the Temple, settling into a routine was crucial for his upbringing. Therefore, Mace swiftly established a daily routine for the both of them, carefully slotting it between Council sessions, political meetings, and investigative briefings. When Anakin's lessons finished for the day, he and Mace would sit together at the low table in their shared quarters to enjoy a cup of tea together.

Before his arrival on Coruscant, Anakin had never tried tea—or rather, the small luxury had not been afforded to him. His childhood as a slave had deprived him of many of the daily privileges at the Temple that most Jedi had come to expect.

Thus, Mace had resolved not to take teatime with Anakin for granted. One by one, he introduced him to various blends, demonstrating the proper brewing technique for each. Anakin had been particularly excited to discover millaflower tea, a popular blend from Naboo.

"Do you think my mom has tried this one?" he'd asked, blue eyes sparkling with excitement as he gazed out the window, like he could somehow see all the way to the other planet's surface.

"Most likely," Mace had responded encouragingly. "Your mother now resides in Theed, and millaflower has a significant historical background there."

After the crisis with the Trade Federation had ended in victory for Naboo largely due to Anakin's intervention, Queen Amidala had freed Shmi Skywalker from slavery and brought her to Naboo to live. While Shmi had been offered a life of luxury, she'd declined, instead requesting and earning a position as a social worker. Now, she worked to aid in the reconstruction efforts and help citizens left in need following the droid invasion. After receiving the update on Shmi's circumstances, it was clear to Mace where Anakin had learned his spirit and generosity.

Of all tea blends that Anakin had tried, the sweet but spicy flavor of saphir, with its barest hint of smoke, quickly won out as his favorite. Coincidentally, it had been Qui-Gon's longtime preferred brew. The discovery had been bittersweet for Mace; while amused that a piece of his unconventional friend lived on in the boy he'd been determined to train as a Jedi, any humor was always accompanied by a sear of regret. If only the Council had believed Qui-Gon about the return of the Sith, if only they'd sent reinforcements along with him and Obi-Wan to Naboo . . .

But brooding on the subject would benefit no one. Instead, Mace resolved to train the child Qui-Gon had been adamant about bringing into the Order.

And so they shared tea together, saphir for Anakin and sweetgreen for Mace, with Anakin munching on a snack advised by his nutritional plan.

The shared time provided a number of benefits, in Mace's view. It allowed Anakin an opportunity to raise any questions or issues troubling him as he began his Jedi path, while giving Mace an opportunity to disclose any developments regarding his schedule to Anakin, particularly if he planned to have Anakin spend the next day with a different master if Mace himself were occupied with meetings. Furthermore, Master and Padawan ought to simply be able to sit and enjoy a cup of tea together.

Well. That was one of Mace's aspirations, anyway. Teatimes with Anakin were never quiet, either because a new subject had captured his fascination, or because he'd cobbled together some suspect device to "help" in preparing the tea. ("It's a brewing droid, Master! I based it off of blueprints of distilling droids used to make Whyren's Reserve!")

And, finally, teatime provided an opportunity for Mace to address whatever instructor's latest concerns about Anakin with Anakin.

Despite his upbringing in slavery, Anakin was reasonably well-educated, literate in Huttese, Bocce, and the fundamentals of Basic. Though his reading and writing skills were originally assessed at below average for his age group, he was also an adept learner and proved himself capable of catching up with his classmates. No, the problem with Anakin wasn't an inability or unwillingness to learn. Rather, he seemed to struggle to adapt to the Temple's teaching conventions. The complaint had now been brought to Mace by several instructors, and a discussion with his apprentice was due.

Only with great care did Mace broach the topic. Far from fearing his apprentice's reaction, his main concern was that his intentions would be misconstrued and mistaken as criticism. The quickest path to an argument with Anakin was if he felt he was being treated unfairly. Situations would only devolve from there, Mace found.

But the trick to dismantling each of Anakin's defenses was by positioning oneself as similar to him in a manner that could be immediately understood. Relatability always proved to be the key to any puzzle involving his Padawan.

Build, not break. That was his objective.

So when he raised the topic, he was careful to control his voice and avoid any hint of accusation.

"I spoke with Docent Vant earlier today," he told Anakin. "She mentioned that during her class, you frequently are working on . . . one of your other projects." Specifically, Docent Vant had been at her wit's end about Anakin's 'blasted droid tinkering,' but that specific quote didn't require reiteration. "She's disappointed that you don't believe her lessons warrant your full attention."

But Mace's careful presentation of the circumstances didn't fool Anakin.

"Do you mean that she's mad?" Anakin asked, overly perceptive as always, as he sipped his tea. "Because she's always mad at me."

Swallowing the sigh that threatened to burst forth, Mace squared his shoulders and gazed at his apprentice, noting his grease-smudged face and hair far longer than Padawan regulations typically allowed. True sunlight on Coruscant was distant and dim, lacking the bleaching power of Tatooine's harsh suns. As a result, Anakin's hair had now darkened to a gold-streaked ash brown. But the light emanating from the partially shuttered transparisteel window behind him still caught on his hair and illuminated his profile, as if his entire being were softly aglow. The sight spurred a deeply-held fondness for his Padawan to flood through Mace.

"I do not believe Docent Vant is angry with you," Mace replied, letting the blandness vanish from his voice in favor of earnest conviction. "It is my impression that she's simply frustrated. She doesn't think you're working to your full potential in her lessons. Is there a reason for it?"

Unlike Mace, Anakin didn't hold back his sigh, and his shoulders slumped along with it, like the exhalation had drained the last vestiges of his energy. "No," he said, but he didn't meet Mace's eyes.

"You know, I'm often incredibly bored by meetings I have to attend for the Senate," Mace remarked idly. "I don't like the meetings very much, but I continue to appear because of my duties to the Jedi."

He resisted mentioning that he also didn't much like the individual politicians also present at these meetings, and instead waited for Anakin to chime in and bemoan his lessons as uninteresting and his instructor as unfair.

But to his surprise, Anakin just offered up an uneasy shrug and looked away. "I don't think Docent Vant's class is boring," he mumbled, his shoulders (still too thin) hunching in further as he spoke.

An intriguing development—and a cautionary one.

"Anakin," Mace said gently, sending warmth and reassurance through their bond to his Padawan. "It is extremely important that you feel like you can be honest with me. I am not adequately fulfilling my duties to you as a master if you cannot tell me the truth and feel that I can be trusted with it."

At that, Anakin's head shot up. "But I do trust you!" he cried, stricken.

"Then please," Mace invited him, "share with me why you're unfocused during Docent Vant's class. Other instructors have mentioned this issue as well."

While Anakin's anxiety spiked at Mace's request, he drew in a deep breath and tried to center himself, releasing his troubles into the Force as best he could manage. Only then did he tentatively lift his eyes to Mace's.

"I—I want to pay attention," Anakin said shakily, and Mace was flummoxed by the fear snaking around his apprentice. "But I'm—I'm not—" he halted, and then blurted out, "Slaves aren't supposed to sit still and just 'pay attention.' We're always supposed to be moving—working. And I know I'm not a slave anymore—but it's hard to remember that, so it's hard to sit still. If I have something to work on, then it's easier for me."

The tidal wave of information and the circumstances surrounding it was enough on its own to leave even an experienced Master unmoored, but it especially caught Mace off-guard. He'd anticipated some kind of unconscious resistance to formal education, or perhaps a clash of personalities between the instructor and his Padawan.

Instead, a long-entrenched survival instinct was what troubled his Padawan and unwittingly upset his teacher.

Though Mace didn't consider himself an emotional man, his heart twisted with momentary despair at the mistreatment of the child before him, and his mind clouded with outrage that Anakin and so many others were trained through abuse and derision to never allow themselves a spare moment to think or learn beyond the labor expected by their owners.

But then he let the emotion fade; it would be brought back later to drive him forth in battle, when he required it. For now, Anakin needed his advice and encouragement—not his anger. Never his anger.

"May I see what you were working on?" Mace asked, still withholding judgement.

While Anakin hesitated, the reluctance lasted barely for a moment, and Mace felt privileged for it.

Then there was a flash of silver, and a small metallic device trotted across the table toward Mace. At first, he thought it was some kind of droid, but as he picked it up to examine it, he realized it was a mechanical wind-up toy in the shape of a feline creature.

"It's a tusk cat," Anakin explained somewhat sheepishly. "I saw Padme—um, Queen Amidala—and Boss Nass ride them during the celebration on Naboo. I really liked them, so I made one."

"You constructed this toy entirely during class?" Mace breathed, utterly awed. Though he knew Anakin's skills in invention and mechanics were superb, well beyond his age, sometimes his Padawan still astounded him.

But Anakin was clearly unimpressed. "Oh, yeah, sure," he said flippantly. "I used some spare scrap from the refuse pit. It's not very good, and I could have done a whole lot better if I'd been giving it all my attention, but I was trying to pay attention to the lesson. And I was paying attention," he added fiercely, raising his chin defiantly. "Even if Docent Vant doesn't believe me."

"I believe you," Mace said simply, and it was amazing the alacrity with which Anakin turned and aimed a smile his way. "But I also understand why your instructor found your actions disrespectful."

Anakin's smile dimmed.

Setting the tusk cat aside, Mace steepled his fingers. "The conflict here," he began, "is that your instructor sees your attention divided in class and assumes it's due to disinterest. In reality, your divided attention is due to a desire to be diligent. The solution is to find a way to be diligent in your lessons rather than in toy-making, impressive as your tusk cat is."

Immediately, a panicked expression descended on Anakin's face. "But Master, I don't know how—"

"Then I will give you a task," Mace cut him off, speaking firmly but not unkindly. "Every lesson, listen attentively and write down three aspects that interest you. They can be an area of the main topic, a particular element you'd like to know more of, or simply obscure details that intrigue you. Then bring them to me, and we shall discuss them over the course of our tea. And because you are attending to a task at my instruction, you needn't feel guilty for learning instead of working."

The solution was not a perfect one—if Mace had his preference, he would avoid any topic or action or topic linked to Anakin's painful past as a slave.

But the wounds of Anakin's past would not miraculously heal simply due to Mace's preferences, and ignoring Anakin's pain would only result in further frustration for the child later in his life. The best solution was to address the injustices and deprivations Anakin had suffered and reframe them into problems he could manage. And in that way, he would no longer feel helpless, no longer caught between the lessons he'd clung to for survival and his new, disparate reality at the Jedi Temple.

Now, Anakin visibly brightened, his typical enthusiasm flowing back into his demeanor. "Three parts of each lesson? Yeah, I can do that!"

"I have every faith in you," Mace said warmly, pushing the plate of cheese and wheat protein crackers in his direction. "Make sure you get enough to eat."

Recognizing the importance of allowing Anakin to own possessions after he'd spent the nearly the first decade of his life being allowed nothing, Mace tried to return the mechanical tusk cat to Anakin.

Anakin, however, pushed Mace's hand back, instead folding his Master's fingers around the toy.

"You can keep it," he told him, with the earnest generosity that Mace had quickly learned was one of his Padawan's defining characteristics. "I could make you a better one, even, if you want, with repulsors in the legs so it can run faster."

Mace smiled at him, charmed, as he always was, by his apprentice's unthinking altruism. "Thank you for the gift," he said, placing his larger, battle-scarred hand over Anakin's own. "This particular tusk cat is more than adequate for me."

Anakin nodded, but it was clear his mind was already leaping to a new topic.

"Um, about making the toy." Anakin twisted his hands together, looking down. "You know how I'm not good at meditation?"

"I know it's an area of your training you're still working on," Mace corrected him gently. "You can't expect yourself to immediately succeed at any task you try, Padawan. Remember that each Jedi is gifted with unique skills. While you might struggle with meditating, I doubt many of your agemates could fashion toys out of spare parts in the space of a single class."

Anakin opened his mouth to reply, but then seemed to reconsider, tilting his head as pondered Mace's words.

"I guess you're right," he said eventually, looking up at Mace with a wondrous expression. "I'm good at stuff other kids aren't, even if they're better at Jedi stuff. I never would have thought of that. You're really smart, Master."

"Compassion for others begins with compassion for the self, Anakin," Mace reminded him, careful to keep any rebuke from his tone.

"Then . . . would it be compassion for myself if I tried something different when I meditate?" Anakin asked hesitantly. "Because I'm not good at sitting still for meditation just like I'm not good at sitting still for class. But I noticed when I was working on the tusk cat that I felt a lot better? At peace and focused. The way I'm supposed to feel during meditation but don't. So . . . could fixing droids and inventing stuff be a way of meditating? My way?"

There was a heart-wrenching note of hope mixed with desperation in Anakin's voice; a need to be reassured that his progress was enough, that he wouldn't be mocked or punished for diverging from usual Jedi practices.

And Mace would provide that reassurance freely. It was not only his duty as Anakin's Master, but his duty to help any of his fellow Jedi who were struggling with their abilities.

Mace could not imagine a world where he would not choose kindness if he had the opportunity.

"Absolutely," he said without hesitation. "What you're describing is a form of moving meditation. It's less common than silent meditation, but it's a style preferred by some Jedi. It's no better or worse than regular meditation. Just . . . different. If it allows you to feel at peace, to focus on a problem that's weighing on you, then there's no reason you shouldn't continue with it."

Keeping his movement slow and steady, ever cautious to appear non-threatening, Mace reached across the table to rest a hand on Anakin's shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"You've done very well," he told the boy sincerely. "You recognized a difficulty, and instead of giving up or continuing with a method that wasn't useful, you found your own way of attaining your goal. Being able to forge your own path, even when it's unfamiliar or uncertain, is an important quality for a Jedi to possess. We all must learn to trust our instincts and do as the Force guides us. You've accomplished that by discovering your meditation style, and I'm very proud of you, Anakin."

Beaming at the praise, Anakin darted around the table to seize Mace in a tight hug, his shoulder jostling the table as he did, sloshing some tea out of Mace's mug.

But as he gently returned Anakin's wholehearted embrace, Mace could hardly bring himself to mind.

Launching into his newly discovered meditation style with new fervor, Anakin proved himself capable of producing toys at an astounding rate. Soon virtually every classmate and fellow Initiate, plus some of the older Padawans who had befriended Anakin, had been given their own custom-made mechanical toy, each one with a specifically selected animal.

"Where are all of these toys coming from?" Cin Drallig asked once, half in wonder, half in exasperation, and received his answer later that day when Anakin presented him with his very own Boohar pit bull.

Students weren't the only ones to be the recipients of Anakin's generosity. Slowly, Anakin was working his way through creating a toy for each member of the Council. For Ki, Anakin had carefully constructed one of the aryx birds from his homeworld of Cerea, and Mace knew the painstaking attention to detail, from individual feathers etched into the metal to wings capable of protruding and flapping, had touched his old friend deeply.

Meanwhile, Anakin had shyly offered Plo a scaled-down version of Plo's own starfighter. As the Kel Dor had accepted the tiny gleaming ship into his clawed hands, Anakin had demonstrated how to power up the repulsor setting so it could hover beside Plo's chair during Council sessions.

And Adi was the recipient of Anakin's most elaborate creation yet: a meticulous miniature recreation of a Corellian corvette that could zoom around the room with the flick of a power switch.

For his part, Mace was satisfied with his tusk cat, winding it to pace around the top of his desk as he perused mission logs and reviewed the discussion topics for the next Council meeting.

And even when he suffered through yet another of the tedious Senate meetings he'd described to Anakin, he only had to reach into the pocket of his robes and run his thumb along the grooves of the tusk cat's back before he found himself smiling again.

A/N: I've seen a lot of fic where Anakin isn't good at meditation, so I really wanted to write a fic where he discovers the moving meditation method he had in Legends. I also really enjoy the idea that Mace helps him discover it and encourages him to keep trying, so, here we are.

Thank you so much for reading!