Chapter 10. The Naberries

"Are you possessed with a devil,
to talk in that manner to me when you are dying?
Do you reflect that all those words will be branded in my memory,
and eating deeper eternally after you have left me?"

- Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Long brown coils, accustomed to the touch of expert handmaidens, were in more than capable hands with Tarel. She set my hair into a lovely curtain of curls that began their descent high atop my head. The strands were pulled back tightly by a headband, keeping my face clear. With Tarel's help, I applied makeup, making my eyes slightly smokier than I usually did even while keeping the overall effect natural.

When she was done, I thanked her, and she went to collect a borrowed cloak from Queen Jamillia. In the privacy of the washroom's anterior, I quietly marveled at my reflection in the short hallway made of full-length mirrors. The posing was not rooted in vanity— I simply didn't recognize myself. In the place of a non-indulgent, rigid senator, I saw a feminine, young woman. I saw a lot of her, actually. Despite the fact that, in the front, I was nearly covered from toe to chin to wrist, I self-consciously splayed my hands over my noticeably bare abdomen. It was far from my usual attire to wear something that dipped below my belly button and resumed just at the cup of my breasts. I held my breath as I turned before the daring blue woman in the mirror, peering over her shoulder to take in the exposed back. I centered myself again shakily. The design of the dress was beautiful, no question, but it took several more breaths before I could rest my arms at my sides comfortably. I knew whose reaction I both feared and sinfully anticipated. It was neither the palace staff nor my family's eyes that I imagined tracing over the naked skin. Just his.

A bold thought abruptly came to me. I imagined a dress of this same cut— but in red.

I met a brown eye in the mirror, questioning the intentions of the woman staring back at me. When had she begun thinking like a Coruscant tease?

A distinct knock interrupted my internal examination. Tarel had returned with the cloak. I walked to the door and was already smiling with thanks as I opened it wide. Only it wasn't a short handmaiden who greeted me.

Anakin, the human skyscraper, towered before me. I was too stunned to see him to do more than freeze. His dark blue eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets as they took me in. I once more resisted the urge to cover my stomach as his sight languidly caressed over the bare skin. He finally met my eyes with a smile that made the blood sing in my veins.

My normally quiet and tidy body was inwardly spiraling at his indulgent stare in a hot daze. I cleared my throat in a vain effort to more so clear my head. "Yes? Do you need something, Anakin?"

He didn't take his eyes off me as he gestured generally up and down his own form with one hand. He was still in his refugee disguise. "I have travel all over me," he said coyly, echoing my words from earlier. "I'd like to take a shower before meeting your parents, too."

"Of course," I nodded, though puzzled why he'd waited to use mine. The palace had more than one washroom available. Then it hit me. During my dash through my suitcases, I'd come across Anakin's Jedi uniform, which Dormé quickly packed away amongst my own fabrics. But leaving my luggage open on the counter for Anakin to sift through— now that I was aware of the corsets and lingerie-like swimwear that my handmaiden had stocked in it— was simply not going to happen. "Wait here, I'll set your clothes out for you. I'll be right back."

I heard a razed inhale of breath fly through Anakin's lips as I turned and walked further into the washroom. Well, it was official now. He'd seen my backside.

And if his low gasp was anything to go by, he seemed to appreciate it.


"I remember this street."

Blue eyes were scanning the tall buildings on either side of us as we strolled down an avenue on the western side of Theed. Artoo trailed behind us. Jamillia's beautiful silver cloak hung long on my sleeves and kissed my heels as I walked.

"You have a good memory. We came this way when we snuck into the palace."

He shook his head as we continued walking, his smile radiant. "I was nervous beyond reckoning. Master Qui-Gon knew it. You didn't need Force sight to see how much I was shaking."

"I was nervous, too."

He fixed me with a doubtful eye. "You? I don't remember you being scared."

"Queens aren't supposed to look scared." My gaze traveled over the shining buildings along our path. Birds carried themselves on the wind in between the green domed roofs. Flowers hung their scent from welcoming window ledges. It was almost hard to believe a ragtag group of security volunteers, handmaidens, a pair of Jedi, and a little boy once crept their way through this pass. Almost. "We didn't have a Plan B. Gungans were already fighting and dying on the battlefield. Time was of the essence. All we had was a plan— my plan— and a hope."

"It was a good plan."

I winked at him. "It had a lot of help from happy accidents."

He laughed, and the sound made my heart skip a beat. "I don't know what you're talking about. Qui-Gon told me to stay in the cockpit, so I did. Everything that happened after that was expert piloting."

Conversation continued to flow easily as I pointed out notable statues and art installations while we made our way down tranquil streets. Every step brought us closer to my family home. We had an H-Type Nubian yacht waiting for us in the Royal Hangar to take us to the Lake Country, but it was far too large and ostentatious for the simple journey to the Theed house. Our travel garments were being cleaned and repacked before the suitcases would be taken to the ship on our behalf. Everything would be ready and waiting for us when we eventually made our way to the hangar.

Though we briefly rode a shuttle bus to cross some of the distance, Anakin and I both wanted to walk the second half to my parent's home. We shunned the idea of a taxi in favor of fresh air and stretching our legs. We were still enjoying such luxuries after the long freighter trip.

"We're getting closer," I announced as we turned down an extended boulevard. My joy grew with every step. Before we'd left the palace, I'd placed a secure comm call to my parents to let them know we were coming, and we'd been duly promised two settings at the table.

The sound of a stomach loudly growling made us both laugh. It hadn't come from me.

"Don't worry, Lunar Day dinner is at mid-day," I assured, smiling at the grinning young man. "In fact, I'll bet my father starts the meal with his traditional "right place, right time" proclamation." Anakin laughed as I rolled my eyes. "He says it almost every time."

"Still haven't left the dejarik table, have we? Alright. I'll take that wager. What are we betting for?"

I lifted a shoulder, imagining the winnings would end in something innocent and negligible, if remembered at all. "We'll figure that out later."

"Tell me about your parents. I'd, um, I'd like to know more before I meet them." Anakin did a fine job of trying to make his request sound casual, but nerves were apparent in the pitchy timber of his voice.

"I owe who I am to them," I said quietly, with the upmost sincerity. A smile spread across my face. "My mother is the embodiment of patience, strength, charity. My father— public service, selflessness, wisdom. He was a worker in the Refugee Relief Movement when they met. I followed in his footsteps at the very beginning of my civil service."

"Hmm." Anakin absorbed this information pensively.

I continued the tale of Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie. "My grandmothers knew each other well, and they actually plotted to get my parents together in an arranged marriage." I let out a light chuckle. "They were more surprised than anyone when they found out the two had met and already fallen in love."

He bit his bottom lip and met my eye. "That's a nice story."

Now, it was my turn to offer a soft, "Hmm," in agreement.

"Have you always lived in Theed?"

"No. My parents wanted to help build a village near the mountains." I tried to kick a pebble with the front of my shoe, but it only ended up disappearing under the long hem of the cloak. "They went there after they were wed. We lived a very happy life in the village. Then, one day, I scored high on an aptitude test, and our parents moved us to the capitol to give my sister and I a chance for better educations. The rest is history. Now, my father teaches microeconomics at Theed University."

If Anakin noticed the growing somberness in my tone as I spoke, he didn't comment on it. My mother had several paintings of the mountainside village throughout the house. The whimsical, haunting way she still spoke of that era of her life was unmistakable. I'd been too young to realize what was going on at the time, and she'd never once made me feel guilty for the decision she and my father had made together, but I always carried remorse that my mother gave up her idyllic mountain retreat for my benefit. The knowledge, never far from the back of my mind, had pushed me onwards during times in my career when I would've preferred to step back.

"Your mother's name?"

"Jobal."

"Do I call her that? Or do I call her Mrs. Naberrie? Or Madam Naberrie?"

"No, no, certainly not 'Madam'. She'll laugh you out of the house."

"And your father?"

"Ruwee."

His face seemed to grow pale. "Do I call your father by his first name?"

I shrugged, not entirely sure I knew the right answer. "Just… say what feels natural."

Anakin's gaze dropped to the paved ground in front of him as we continued our march. Watching him stress about meeting my parents, well, I couldn't figure out why I was fighting back the urge to smile.

Partly hoping to distract him, but mostly because I was genuinely curious, I said, "I've never heard you talk about your father."

His jaw visibly tightened and his eyes pointedly remained on the path. "That's a statement, not a question."

A silence abruptly fell between us. I was confused at his sudden change in demeanor. Anakin's tendency to be open and unfiltered in his personal offerings was often what made things awkward between us, not the opposite. Carefully, I said, "I'm sorry, I don't want to overstep any boundaries."

"There's a reason I haven't talked about my father."

He left it at that, and we let the topic drop.

The only sounds were my heels on the pavement and Artoo's mechanical whirls as his wheels kept in time with our steps. After a long hiatus, Anakin seemed to want to repair the tear in our harmonious walk. "You mentioned before that you have a sister, and nieces?"

"Yes. Ryoo, who's seven, and Pooja, who's four. They have their father's genes, so they're growing like weeds. Pretty soon I'll be looking up at them. They're the most adorable children, though, and remarkably intelligent. Maybe I'm biased, but I think they're prodigies." I took a breath. "I'm glad you'll get to meet them."

He smiled back at me. "I am, too."

The love and excitement that comes from being an adoring aunt coated my words. "Pooja is the animated one; she'll talk your ear off if you let her. Every week she seems to want to be something different when she grows up. She'll like you a lot. Last month, she wanted to be a starfighter pilot."

His grin brightened. "I'll be ready to answer any questions that come my way."

"Ryoo is more temperamental, but she's a big sweetheart. Ask her about her pet voorpak, Sanani— she lights up anytime she talks about him. Sola and her husband Darred named both of the girls after their great-grandmothers. Pooja was their father's maternal grandmother, and Ryoo our mother's mother. Actually, Ryoo is also a blue and yellow flower that grows in the hills near Keren, so there's a whole history there, too. Lots of meaning in that little name."

Anakin's eyes were wide and dazed. "Ryoo, seven. Firecracker. Pooja, four. Voorpak. Both named for their grandmothers, but one also for a weed— no! A flower!" He looked at me in a semi-mock expression of exasperation. "I don't know if I'll remember all of this on the spot."

"You'll be fine," I replied, saying it as much to myself as to Anakin. I couldn't shake an exhilarating feeling of nervousness. Why oh why did this feel like I was bringing a suitor home to meet my family? And as if this was our last run through of family facts? "But… just in case, great-grandmothers."

He exhaled a short breath and squared his shoulders. "Right."

I peered at him through the corner of my eye. Anakin didn't need advance knowledge of personal details to impress anyone. He had charm and charisma all on his own. "Just be yourself."

Surprisingly, he looked at me somewhat shrewdly. "Are you going to tell them that I'm only a Padawan?"

If he was trying to make me feel bad for correcting Sio Bibble, it wasn't going to work. However, there was a fine line between informing my parents that I had a bodyguard and their concern spiraling when they realized I'd only been given an apprentice for protection. If asked point-blank I would be honest, but, perhaps, it was in everyone's best interests if my family assumed Anakin was a Knight. I didn't think they knew enough about the braid to know the difference.

"I'll let them assume what they will."

"Works for me. Under the circumstances, the rank of a title is irrelevant." His eyes met mine. "I'd lay down my life to protect you."

I stared back, electricity shooting down each one of my vertebrates in succession as his words hung in the air. His tone offered no doubt, and I conjured none. I was past the point of presuming Anakin felt this way about all his assignments.

When and how had I inspired such devotion in this young man?

And how high does this pedestal he's put me on go?

No time to ponder that line of thought. We'd come to the crosswalk with the gorgeous, purple sydonna tree— the trademark sign of home. I beamed at him breathlessly. "We're here."

I led us closer to the steps overflowing with flowerpots. "This is my house."

Feeling oddly giddy, I turned to take in his reaction. His expression was one of appreciation… and something else I couldn't quite name. He suddenly seemed shy.

Two bopping brown heads seized my attention. My nieces were hurrying down the steep staircase, their giggles even sweeter than what my memory banks could capture.

"Ryoo!" I sank down to my knees, forgetting the owner of my cloak in my excitement. My arms opened wide with joyful expectation. The older girl, with her mother's straight hair, headed into them eagerly. The younger one, with her father's natural curls, daintily followed behind— slower, but no less elated. "Pooja!"

I hugged each of them to me tightly. They absolutely had their aunt wrapped around their little fingers. Whether I was away from them for hours or days, or— heaven forbid, weeks or months— I never tired of their company.

Pooja gasped by my right ear as we pulled back from our embrace. "Artoo?"

And, immediately, I was forgotten.

I beamed at the girls as they raced to greet and hug the astromech. I smiled apologetically at Anakin, the stranger behind the aunt who'd been forgotten about as well. His smile only broadened as he shook his head.

Climbing in my skirts was a careful effort, but I made my way to the top step in due time. Anakin's brow wrinkled as my finger went straight to the button that would open the panel. "You don't lock your doors?"

I smiled at my security guard. "Theed is a safe city. The only threats came and went with the droid army." I gave him a daring look. "Ready?"

He swallowed. "As I'll ever be."

"Relax," I soothed. "But remember— keep the topic of the assassination attempts to a minimum. It might take a miracle, but I'd rather it doesn't come up at all." I kept my voice low to make sure Ryoo and Pooja, still playing with Artoo below, didn't hear me. "And absolutely no talk of Kouhons."

I turned back towards the door, but I froze when his warm hand rose to stop mine in a soft grab just before I pressed the button. I looked at him over my shoulder questioningly. He appeared disgruntled.

"Are you sure that's a wise idea? They're your family. They deserve to know the level of danger you're in."

Before I could argue that I wanted my family to be able to sleep at night, the door before us whooshed open unexpectedly. I turned, Anakin's hand still folding mine under his in mid-air, to see my father in the doorway.

"Padmé!" He greeted me warmly, though his sharp eyes noticed the hand holding mine immediately— as well as the young man it belonged to. I wrenched my hand out of Anakin's grip the same second he moved to plaster his fingers to his side.

"Papa," I responded back, my voice a slight octave too high. I'd been completely caught by surprise. I rushed forward to embrace him. "We were just coming up."

"I see. And who is 'we'?" As I pulled back, I saw Ruwee Naberrie wasn't looking at me.

"Papa, this is Anakin." I stepped aside so the two men could appraise each other without me standing in the way. "Anakin, this is my father."

In all our exploits together, many encountered in life-and-death situations, there are two standout instances when I saw Anakin look the most nervous I'd ever seen him. The top moment was in the initial seconds after I'd told him he was going to be a father. The next most memorable was when he first met mine.

"Anakin." My father extended his hand to the young man who was blinking alarmingly rapidly and swallowing repeatedly. "Welcome to our home."

Anakin took the offered hand, holding it firmly despite his obvious nerves. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."

I waited a beat to see if my father would casually say anything along the lines of 'Call me Ruwee', as usually happened.

He didn't.

His gaze turned to me, and chestnut pools identical to my own regarded me fondly. "Well, let's get you upstairs. We've prepared a fine meal. Your mother was gathering herbs all morning from the garden." He stepped back into the entry hallway and to the side to make way for us.

Instead of walking directly past him, I came and placed a hand on his shoulder. Then I leaned in and kissed his scratchy cheek. He smelled as he always did— like the woods after a summer rain. "Happy Lunar Day, Papa."

He gave my forearm a squeeze. "Happy Lunar Day, darling."

Once inside, I was anxious to quickly make my way up the rest of the stairs to the second floor, where the dining room beautifully overlooking Theed was located. I could hear the commotion of footsteps and cutlery coming from above.

"I'll take that," my father offered, coming behind me to help remove my thick cloak. Behind him, Anakin was watching us with amused eyes, a wicked smile on his lips.

"Oh," I mumbled, as nervous as if Anakin's flustering had left his body and jumped into mine. I met his eye, and I had a sneaking suspicion I knew the reason he looked so entertained all of a sudden.

Well, I couldn't hide my dress from my conservative father forever. I let him pull the fabric at the shoulders and shrugged out of it, holding my breath.

A low "Hmph," came over my shoulder as the garment revealed my exposed back.

I said a prayer and turned around.

Brown eyes widened at the sight of my bare abdomen. "HMPH." He looked up at me. Shocking myself, I stared back as if nothing was out of the ordinary, even raising my chin a little. "Is this what the diplomats are wearing in the Senate halls these days?"

"I think she looks beautiful."

My father slowly turned over his shoulder to stare down the dark blond man who had an arm's length of height on him. "Of course she does." His gaze fell upon me again, his frown lines thawing. "It just takes some getting used to for a father is all. Queen, Senator— Padmé will always be my little girl."

This was venturing into abominable territory for my comfort level. My father was standing there taking in my dress like he wanted to cry, and Anakin was standing behind him looking like he wanted to lick every inch of naked skin.

"Shall we?" I asked, half-begging to flee.

But my father turned to Ani. "How about you? You have a backless dress under there, too?"

"Not exactly." No longer looking at me lustfully from the privacy granted behind my father's head, Anakin took off his robe as we watched. His lightsaber rolled against his thigh as he smoothly moved out from his own layers.

My father blinked. "A Jedi?" He looked back and forth between Anakin and I, certainly several questions filtering though his mind. In the end, he seemed to accept for the moment that my companion was not, could not be, a suitor. He gave Ani the biggest, most welcoming grin yet. "Well, this is a Lunar Day first. Come on, son, we'll hang your cloaks upstairs."

I led the way as we traveled up the staircase. We hung our garments accordingly just outside the bright dining room. At seeing Sola walk from the kitchen into the space, I eagerly went on ahead to meet her, taking several quick steps with my arms outstretched. "Padmé!" She barely had time to place the bowl of tunda rolls on the table before I'd reached her.

I pulled her closely into me. Her signature scent from her conditioned hair— the smell of misco flowers— wafted into my nostrils. She gave me an even tighter squeeze. "We were worried."

Sola and I had been thick as thieves when we were little. She was my playmate, my confidante, my best friend. In the inner sanctum of my heart, I knew we'd grown apart in the past years, but I didn't know how to fix it. There never seemed to be enough time. However, after the horrific loss of Cordé and the stress from the attacks, in that moment, a hug from my big sister was all I craved. We parted too quickly for my taste, but I was adamant not to show my family any hint as to how affected I was from the recent days' events.

As we pulled back, her hands touched my back and abdomen, and her eyebrows rose slightly. Before she could give any kind of repeat performance in the vein of our father, I turned to introduce her to our guest.

He was absorbing the ambiance of the room appreciatively, but he strode towards us with a timid smile once he realized we were watching him. "Anakin, this is my sister, Sola."

I watched my near-biological twin's eyes take in the sight of the statuesque, handsome man approaching her. The incoming sun from the windows bathed his right side in an ethereal light. I hadn't seen Anakin in his Jedi uniform sans cloak since the night we fell asleep in my apartment. Was that really just a little more than two standard days ago? Regardless, I'd forgotten what a striking figure he cut in his Jedi outfit. My sister seemed to notice it, too, and I saw a glazed look come over the happily married woman's eyes. "Hello, Anakin."

For his part, he was still shy but polite. "Hello." They shook hands courteously before Sola spun away to make space for my next introduction.

"This is my mother."

Much like her future son-in-law, Jobal Naberrie commanded every room she walked into. Her presence was a beckon of warmth, light, and good will. At present, she was holding a curved plate full of fresh red and green vegetables from her garden. An elegant voice, which had legendarily enraptured hundreds of would-be suitors— though she'd only had eyes for the one— rang musically in welcome. "Hello."

I was distracted from fully watching her greet Anakin by Sola's hand on my upper arm. I met her eye to see she was giving me a pointed expression. Oh, yes, she was very impressed by the man at my side. I ignored her devilish look quickly, the hair standing up at the back of my neck. This isn't good.

Sola's favorite past-time was picking out romantic matches for me, much to my chagrin. She'd have a field day if she knew Jurue and I had spent so much time together in the past year. But Jurue Batar wasn't here. Anakin Skywalker was.

My mother, ever the graceful hostess, was still speaking to my counterpart. "You've made it just in time for dinner. I hope you're hungry, Anakin."

"A little."

I was keenly aware of the depth of Anakin's appetite by now, and my own stomach was having none of his manners. I was already in my chair, scouting out my first helping of food. "He's being polite, Mom, we're starving."

My father laughed at the animation in my tone. Behind him, high on the wall, rested one of the mountain paintings that so reminded my mother of her village home. "Well, you've come to the right place at the right time."

I smiled a victor's smile. Bet won.

Triumph aside, I was too concentrated on digging a fresh tunda roll out from the basin to peek at Anakin. They were my great-grandmother's recipe, and I favored them as many Naberries before me had. I was just about to forgo manners and lift one out by hand when my mother said, "Honey, it's so good to see you safe. We were so worried."

I dug into the bowl with even deeper concentration. I wanted to avoid the topic of my safety and the reason for Anakin's presence for as long as possible.

"Dear." My father looked at his wife from across the table, the expression on his face and the pause in his serving tongs saying more than the single word. I desperately hoped it would be enough to stay the conversation.

"I know, I know, but I had to say it. Now it's done."

Oh, my. Miracles do come true. With a single plea from my father, there seemed to be a chance, however slight, that I might get through the meal without having to talk about the danger surrounding me.

I should've known better.

Though she directed the words at her future brother-in-law, Sola's mischievous eyes were plainly focused on me as she proclaimed, "Did you know, Anakin, you're the first boyfriend my sister's ever brought home?"

{I'll let them assume what they will.}

Oh for Force's sake, except that.

"He's not my boyfriend." Anakin's face turned my way. I tried not to register his downcast expression at my shutdown as I countered, "Anakin's a friend, we've known each other for years." Without thinking, I blurted, "He's a Jedi assigned to me by the Senate to protect me."

Oh. Great job, Padmé.

The irony that I'd rushed to deny a romantic attachment to Anakin with information I'd hoped wouldn't come up at all was a wry realization. In the second-best case scenario, I'd hoped we'd be putting our cloaks back on before the matter of my security be aired.

The look on my mother's face exemplified why I'd wished to avoid the subject. "A bodyguard?" The mood in the room chilled. "Oh, Pad, they didn't tell us it was that serious."

"It's not, I promise. I'm not in any danger, Mom."

Life-long politician, but I've always been a terrible liar. My father, dubious of my statement, turned to the man sitting next to me. "Is she?"

"Yes, um." Instead of meeting the expectant faces of my family, Anakin turned his gaze to capture mine. "I'm afraid she is."

It was difficult to be mad when his crime was being unable to lie to my family. It peeved the established balance between my morality and my selfish wants. Confusingly, I found myself both respecting and regretting his defiance of my efforts. I made the mistake of looking at him as I tried to figure out where I settled on the matter. Our eyes hooked on to each other's, momentarily forgetting the audience watching us.

"Wait a minute," Sola diverted all eyes her way. Her own brown pools were shifting back and forth between Ani and me. "An Anakin you've known for years?" Her stare fixed itself on the young man. "Are you Anakin Skywalker?"

My mother, already the poster-woman for exquisite posture, sat impossibly straighter in her chair. "The Anakin Skywalker? The child pilot who blew up the droid control ship?"

"From the inside out!" Sola added with excitement, suddenly sure of her guess.

The Hero of Naboo's cheeks blushed pink. "Who knew reactors weren't built to handle torpedoes?" A chorus of delight went around the table as Anakin confirmed their suspicions. He grinned bashfully, saying, "Believe it or not, I was aiming for some droids and missed."

"How lucky for the people on the planet beneath you!" Jobal Naberrie was looking at him with new appreciation.

"Why, we saw you at the Victory Parade," my father remarked with an amused smile. "We watched the celebrations from a balcony, not far from the platform you stood on with my daughter and the Jedi. You were just a little thing back then. Grown a bit, haven't you, son?"

Another shy smile. "A bit."

"You're in better hands than I thought, Mémé." Sola winked at me. I glared back, fully aware of her double meaning.

Anakin's cheeks spread his lips. His eyes went wide as they traveled to my sister, to me, and back. "Mémé?"

Sola grinned. I wanted to bury my head under the table.

"My nickname for her. I was four when Padmé graced our family with her presence. As big sister, I simply decided Mémé was much more fun to say."

Anakin graced me with a pleased look before he tried out the title. "Mémé."

Seeing my childhood nickname caress its way of Anakin's lips touched a personal heart string I hadn't expected to move. It's a silly thing to feel something over, but absolutely no one outside of the family knew of my childhood moniker. While my identity of 'Padmé' had been kept as confidential as possible during my political career as Amidala, 'Mémé' was the most intimately familial name at the center of all of it. Now, Anakin was in the club.

I gathered myself together quickly and gave him an impish smile. "Did you think you were the only one with a nickname, Ani?"

My mother perked up at this. "Oh, is 'Ani' what your family called you? I like that."

"Um, no siblings. I was an only child. It was my mom's nickname for me." He smiled softly. "I really only heard 'Anakin' when I was in trouble…" His grin grew larger. "Still do, actually. My masters seem to have adopted the same habit; except, I only ever hear them say my full name." Light laughter around the table. Another one of my walls melted down as I watched him entertain my loved ones. His gentle eyes landed on me. "I haven't actually been called Ani in a very long time."

My father cleared his throat. "So, Anakin, if I remember my history correctly, you were not a Jedi yet at the Battle of Naboo. You lived with your family through your childhood, then? How unique."

It was subtle, but something changed in Ani at my father's words. He swallowed and his eyes dropped to his plate briefly. "It was a… nontraditional choice when the Jedi took me in."

"Have you had any contact with your family since you left?"

Anakin fiddled his fork between his right thumb and index finger. "None, sir."

"That must have been very difficult for your parents to see you go."

The young Jedi said nothing. In the silence, my mother added her own contribution. "They must be very proud of you, Ani." My eyes skirted in his direction for a reaction. I knew his smiles well enough now to recognize a tense, awkward one. My polished instincts starting warning me to divert this conversation. Quickly.

"Artoo was playing with Ryoo and Pooja in the street, Sola." I looked at the doorway, as if expecting my two nieces to bound through it. "Are they not joining us?" The lack of settings at the table for two more made the answer obvious, but I was actively trying to turn the flow from Anakin's family back to my own. Besides, it was Lunar Day. I wouldn't have been able to leave the dining room, much less the house, when I was their age.

Sola shook her head and fed me her reply in between bites of food. "Darred can't join us today." Swallow. "Very important deadline on the river project." Her husband was a talented architect who she'd met at Theed University. His skills were often in use on public service works, which made it even harder for him to step away. "The girls didn't like the idea of him spending Lunar Day meal alone, so they're walking down to eat with him at the office. They were just leaving when you arrived."

I turned to look at my mother, failing to reign in my surprise. She winked at me. "How could I say no to the girls wanting to see their father?" She took a short sip of her drink. "They'll be back soon enough."

Not that I disliked regular monthly meals with my family at all, but I could think of several occasions when even very solid reasons hadn't been enough for me to miss them. My, how relaxed the ardent Jobal Naberrie had become about Lunar Day.

I was distracted from this all too rapidly. Surely, Ruwee Naberrie simply wanted to be polite and get to know the guest in his house a little better, but I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as his questions resumed.

At least he had the decency to wait until Anakin finished his current bite of food, then, "Were you close with your family?"

"Very."

"May I ask your home world?"

A pause. "Tatooine."

This made three pairs of eyebrows shoot up their respective foreheads. Tatooine was a remote, Outer-Rim planet outside the republic, but the Hutts were notorious enough that their point of operations was known. For the sake of their blood pressures, I'd kept as many details as possible of my experience during the invasion from my family. They were unaware of the broken hyperdrive, the near-permanent layover on Tatooine, the fact that I'd stood by and watched as the nine year old version of their guest gambled with his life in a stadium hosted by the nefarious Hutts. As far as they knew, I'd merely been longer on Coruscant than reality told. They knew nothing of Anakin's origins. I hadn't the time to tell them much about him in the hectic weeks after the invasion ended, and once I did, any questions about the boy on the top of the steps had long faded.

For the one and only time, I think my father experienced a flash of genuine worry over who was dining with his family. The word 'Tatooine' was synonymous with gangsters, criminals, etc. He kept his voice as even as a horizon line as he inquired, "If you don't mind me asking, what kind of work did your parents do?"

My breath froze in my throat.

But it was nothing but the clear outpouring of love as Anakin talked about Shmi Skywalker. "My mother is a brilliant mechanic. She can fix practically anything. She passed her knowledge on to me, but I caught on to it on my own early on." The corners of his lips tugged on his smile in small twitches. "She's the gentlest person I've ever encountered, but she also one of the strongest, by far." A look I alone would know to be ironic darkly passed over Anakin's face. "Her boss is a real slave driver."

"And your father?"

"Can he just enjoy his meal in peace without an interrogation?!"

All four heads looked at me in surprise at my borderline outburst. My father, concerned, leaned in Anakin's direction with an apologetic frown. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, son."

Despite the fact that Ruwee was still looking at him on the other end of the table, Ani tentatively smiled at me. "It's alright. I like talking about my mother. It makes me remember her more clearly… The Jedi have never," he seemed to struggle to find the words. "They've never encouraged my thoughts to dwell on her, much less been interested in hearing about her." He looked back at the patient parent at the left side of the table. "I can't say much about my father, to tell the truth."

Ruwee nodded. His line of questions had ended, regardless of Anakin's assurance.

I said nothing, but in the back of my mind, my curiosity about the senior Skywalker only grew. The man who fathered Ani was becoming quite the mysterious enigma.

The son wiped his mouth with a napkin. Though he continued talking, he seemed to retreat within himself as he spoke. "I still remember the last thing I said to my mother. I've forgotten so much— too much— but I can… I can still feel her last hug… her hand on my cheek. She told me to be brave, and not to look back." He paused, memory gripping him more tightly than the present. His jaw suddenly clenched. "Walking away from her was one of the most agonizing things I've ever done. All the Jedi teachings in the galaxy haven't stopped me from thinking about her every day."

Blazing blue eyes flashed up to meet mine. For reasons I cannot explain, I shivered.

The room was silent after his emotional reveal. My parents handled it with graceful aplomb, regarding Anakin with heartfelt empathy. They didn't gaze upon him with pity, and— finally— they did not pry for more details. You could tell by the looks on their faces they were grateful Anakin felt safe enough with them to share what he had.

My sister, unfortunately, didn't quite inherit their level of tact. It was she who spoke first, and bluntly.

"What did you tell her?"

I shot Sola a disapprovingly look, even though, truthfully, I was just as curious as she. Anakin and I had never talked about his farewell with Shmi. I was learning as many new things about my companion during this meal as my family was.

The fact was sobering. I'd just declared him and I to be old friends, but in truth, I knew so few details about him.

Ani seemed to steady himself before he replied, "I promised I would come back and free her."

"Free her?" My mother, sharp of a woman as she was, was as confused as she was innocent in her questioning. I looked at her with eyes silently begging her help in ceasing this conversation, and something about my expression made his words click. She let out a soft, "Oh."

Anakin, in an abrupt turn, was suddenly no longer shy and timid. He stuck his chin up as if he were a supreme chancellor and his chest swelled in accordance. Daringly, he looked to my mother and stated, "She's a slave. We both were."

{I'm a person and my name is Anakin.}

If the young man at my side was looking to challenge my family into giving him some sort of expected shameful response, he'd obviously underestimated the Naberries. My parents, and even Sola, wore compassion like a second skin. The idea of a former slave sitting at their table no more perturbed them than if he'd sat down in his slave's garbs, straight from a hot day in Watto's shop— just like it hadn't when they'd seen me draped in monarch's regalia from afar. Morality was valued in this home, not one's social status.

My father spoke for the family. His voice was imbued with all the authentic humanity which endeared my papa to me so greatly. "What an extraordinary blessing that you have made your way to where you are. I think you will bring a perspective to your service which will make you an even greater Jedi. For that, and for your achievements in the Battle of Naboo…" He lifted his glass shoulder-height in toast. "It's an honor to have you at our table, Anakin." My mother and Sola repeated his movement with their own cups.

Even as I looked upon my father with loving pride, my eyes pulled themselves to Ani. I watched the defensiveness thaw away from him, replaced with clear relief. Acceptance had been waiting in this room all along, and now he knew it.

"It is a tremendous honor to be here, sir."

"Call me Ruwee."


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