Thunderstorms
Despite the tumultuous excitement of the morning's parade and the subsequent victory celebrations that carried on far past the brilliant setting of the sun, the young, sandy-blonde boy could not fall asleep. His mind whirled madly, overwhelmed by the drastic turn his life had taken just days ago.
One moment, it seemed, he was nothing but a futureless slave – gifted, to be sure, and unusually precocious for a nine-year-old, but still a slave, with the hopelessly fractured life and stinging lash welts down his sand-burnt back to testify to his bondage. The next instant, he was a champion, the winner of the famed Boonta Eve podrace, and then the strange fatherless child was hugging his beloved mother goodbye and flying to the galactic capital in the company of two Jedi Knights and the beautiful Queen of Naboo.
His head spun with the memories of the last few days. The loss in his mother's voice as they parted resounded through his soul. His conversation with Master Yoda during the trials on Coruscant replayed in his head like an ominous portent of some shadowy future. The suspicious looks of mistrust, doubt, fear, and – there was no other way to describe it – hatred that Obi-Wan customarily favored him with tormented the restless boy. He attempted to visualize something calming, but every image he recalled brought up resurgences of loss and grief. Even the thought of his mother no longer could comfort him. Anakin Skywalker was completely alone.
Well, not completely. In his whirring mind, his mother's care-worn face stretched and reshaped itself into the smooth, youthful complexion of Padmé Amidala. Her deep brown eyes sparkled brightly and her sweet smile warmed the little boy as he remembered meeting her and Qui-Gon Jinn back on Tatooine.
Qui-Gon Jinn. The formerly-soothing image of the defiant, independent Jedi who had so strongly championed Anakin suddenly burst into singeing flames, and Qui-Gon's lifeless body burnt on a funeral pyre in front of the boy's open eyes – eyes that, so long absent of any vestiges of childish innocence, glowed furious blue with an intensity matched only by the boy's fiery soul. A tear trickled down Anakin's cheek as he perched on the edge of his bed, staring out into the starry Naboo night and silently mourning the one man who believed in him.
The man in the bed next to Anakin muttered something inaudible and shifted onto his side. Anakin uncertainly eyed the sleeping form of the Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. His new Master. Anakin shivered as the thought crossed his mind.
But this would be different, he reasoned. Here, he was no longer a slave, but a Padawan learner, and his new Master would be neither a crusty Toydarian nor a sadistic Hutt, but a friend. Wouldn't he?
Anakin pulled his knees up to his chin and pondered this. He knew Obi-Wan wasn't thrilled to take him for an apprentice, especially after Qui-Gon had publicly vowed to train Anakin even at the expense of losing Obi-Wan, his current Padawan. Anakin winced as he recalled the harsh arguments and subsequent stony silences that had marred the relationship between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan ever since Anakin had entered the picture.
But Obi-Wan had taken Anakin as his Padawan, right?
Only because the dying Qui-Gon begged him to, hissed an unbidden voice deep within the boy's soul. Qui-Gon thought you were special, thought you were the Chosen One, but all Obi-Wan sees is a hurt and angry slave. Obi-Wan doesn't even like you, much less care about you. He hates you. Didn't you see his face in the Council after Qui-Gon supported you in spite of –
BANG! A sound like crashing spaceships rent the midnight stillness. Anakin jumped, then peered through the window at the darkened sky outside. Something small but forceful was repeatedly hitting the windows, pounding down on the high, sculpted roofs of the palace and stirring up the once-placid lake below. A flash of azure light sparked in the heavens, and a few seconds later, a deafening BOOM! rang out across Theed's silent landscape. More explosions of white light and jarring noise caused the young Padawan to pull the thin silk covers of his palace guest bed up to his trembling chin and yank the overstuffed pillow over his ears in a futile effort to shut out the terrifying chaos erupting all around him.
What in the name of the Force was going on? If the recently-liberated planet was once again under siege, why was Master Obi-Wan still lying sound asleep in bed? Why weren't the invasion alarms sounding to alert the planetary officials of the security breach? And where was Padmé?
Padmé. The gorgeous, perfect face of the woman he loved floated dreamily through Anakin's racing mind. What if she had been kidnapped, or wounded, or – Anakin shuddered, not allowing himself to finish that terrible thought. She would be safe, he vowed to himself. He would protect her.
Despite the surrounding tremors and blasts and the constant, eerie drumming atop the roof, Anakin leapt determinedly out of bed, shivering in the unexpected chill that wrapped around him like an icy cloak. He sprinted the short distance to Obi-Wan's bed and reached to wake him, then paused, unsure of how his Master would respond. He'd barely spoken an entire sentence to Anakin since taking him as his apprentice, and that had been to order Anakin to bed when the boy was lingering over his dinner so as to spend more time talking with Padmé.
Another jolting BANG, this one much nearer, rattled the glass in the windows and sent Anakin instinctively diving for cover. In the shadowy darkness, the young boy smacked his shin on the side of Obi-Wan's bed, then, with a strangled sound somewhere between a grunt and a sharp exclamation of pain, toppled in a tangled heap on top of his Master.
"What in the blazes - ?" Obi-Wan shouted, reaching for his lightsaber with one hand and bringing the other up in one fluid motion to strike out at his unexpected assailant. He hit his attacker square across the face and swung the blue-white blade of his lightsaber around to finish the job, then stopped short upon realizing exactly who was lying sprawled over the Jedi Master's legs.
Anakin slowly sat up, warily eyeing the humming blade and gingerly rubbing the bloody welt that was rapidly rising on his cheek.
"Anakin Skywalker, what do you think you are doing? Get back to bed this instant!"
Anakin's downcast face fell even further at the harsh rebuke. "I just wanted to ask you-" the Padawan began defensively, but a terrible explosion cut him off. Obi-Wan did not even flinch, and Anakin desperately attempted to emulate his Master, though his frightened expression and tense posture betrayed him.
"What is it?" he asked in a near-whisper once the deafening noises momentarily died down.
Obi-Wan glared in over-exhausted annoyance. He hadn't rested in over four days, and on top of post-battle stress and the empty, cutting grief that burned away the place in his heart where Qui-Gon had belonged, Obi-Wan Kenobi was being woken up in the middle of the night by the too-confident, undisciplined slave boy who had come between the Jedi Knight and his beloved Master.
"Ani, it's just a storm," Obi-Wan snapped, powering down his lightsaber and rolling over to fall back asleep. At least when he was not conscious, he could forget the horrors of the last few days and the looming uncertainties of the many trials sure to lie ahead.
Jagged yellowish light once again streaked across the midnight sky, and Anakin's hauntingly vibrant eyes widened as a CLAP of sound rolled through the palace. Obi-Wan suddenly realized that his words had brought no reassurance to his Padawan. Anakin, growing up all too fast on Tatooine, knew nothing of atmospheric conditions ranging beyond hot, windy, and sandy.
"The flashes are lightning," Obi-Wan added in a slightly more comforting tone. "And the noises are thunder."
"Thunder?"
"It's just a sound caused by the electricity in the lightning."
"It sounds like someone's firing at us. And not blaster shots, either. Some sort of powerful long-range weapon, like an ion cannon, or those super-speed 570 missiles that the Mandellorians use on their ships." Anakin launched enthusiastically into a lengthy description of every last detail of the famed bounty-hunter starcrafts, leaving Obi-Wan rolling his eyes in exasperation.
"There are no Mandellorians here, Anakin. You're perfectly safe. Come on now, back to sleep. We've got a long flight back to Coruscant tomorrow."
Anakin did not even acknowledge his Master, but remained sitting beside him, incredibly still as he sorted through all the new information he had just received.
"Master?" he suddenly inquired, turning to look up at the lined but still-youthful face of Obi-Wan Kenobi.
"Yes, Anakin?" Obi-Wan's exhaustion showed in his tone of voice, which wavered dangerously between a groan and a shout.
"Wh – what is that stuff falling from the sky?"
"What?" The question startled the tired Jedi Knight, who peered through the foggy window but could spot nothing out of place.
"That." Anakin pointed to the storm raging outside, and in spite of himself, Obi-Wan could not help laughing aloud.
"Ani, that's rain."
"Rain?" came the puzzled echo.
"Water from the clouds that falls to the ground."
Anakin watched the rainwater swirl in a squiggly stream across one of the gilded silver windowpanes.
"Master," he asked in a very solemn voice, "are we going to drown?"
Obi-Wan chuckled again. "Very funny," he began, then glanced down at Anakin to find that his bewildered Padawan was not at all joking. On the contrary, Anakin was staring at the rain with a look of terror shining in his eyes.
"I can't swim, Master."
"The rain won't last forever," Obi-Wan explained. "It will stop in a few hours, and everything will dry out again."
"Oh." Anakin nodded his understanding. "Sorry," he added, his soft tone embarrassed and penitent, as though he regretted his ignorance.
Obi-Wan watched Anakin, unsure how to respond to this new, finally-quiet child staring up at him with those disturbingly bright eyes as if he were searching Obi-Wan's very soul. What was he looking for? What did he see?
Suddenly, Obi-Wan doubted his capabilities, his qualifications, his convictions. Who am I kidding, he thought in despair. After all, a few days ago he was but a Padawan himself, and now he was not only a Jedi Knight, but Master to another Padawan learner.
And of course, my first learner couldn't be a normal, sweet boy raised in the Temple, he silently lamented. I had to get the supposed "Chosen One." Obi-Wan nearly sighed out loud. He was barely an adult himself. How could he possibly hope to be an appropriate mentor to the child meant to restore the Force to balance? How could he teach him and guide him, instruct him and mold him, when he did not even know what sort of training the boy would need?
"Don't move too fast, Obi-Wan," spoke a deep, familiar voice. "Anakin needs what every nine-year-old needs. Only, he needs it more."
"Master Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes, thinking he was even more worn out than he had imagined. He could see nothing but those chilling blue eyes of Anakin's, yet he could have almost sworn he had heard the voice of his late Master.
Obi-Wan finally tore his gaze away from Anakin's. "There's nothing to be sorry about," he at last responded. "You've never seen the rain before." His tired face softened and he smiled tentatively at his Padawan, who grinned back.
Suddenly, in a moment of uncharacteristic sensitivity, Obi-Wan was seized by a powerful desire to reach out and comfort the boy who sat beside him looking so vulnerable, so lost, so entirely alone. Hesitantly, Obi-Wan stroked Anakin's soft, bruised cheek with his fingertips, and before the Jedi Knight knew what was happening, he was holding Anakin in his lap, gently rocking him back and forth, his strong, toned arms wrapped tight around the tiny boy as though to shield him not only from the thundering squalls, but from the innumerable future dangers the Padawan had yet to confront.
It did not take long for the methodic drumming of the rain and the warmth of his Master's arms to at last lull Anakin to sleep, yet Obi-Wan did not lay the dreaming child back in his bed. He continued to hold him while a flood of wonderful emotions once associated only with Qui-Gon Jinn threatened to burst his weary soul. Cradling Anakin in his arms, Obi-Wan Kenobi pondered the circumstances that had brought them together and the future in store for the pair as the storm wound down, the stars winked out, and the sun began to rise in the now-pastel sky.