"I can readily believe," answered he gravely, "that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either." Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth Bennet, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin

Chapter 2: "He's Out to Get Me!"

Next Morning, Visitor's Wing

"Do you think I can call in sick?" Padmé asked, sitting half-dressed on her as-of-yet unmade bed.

"On the first day here?" Sabé asked skeptically. "Not unless you really want to get on Master Skywalker's bad side."

Their uniforms consisted of black trousers with matching boots, a loose white shirt, and a black cloak that clasped together at the neck. As soon as they were done changing into these, the young ladies met up with the third person of their trio, Rabé. By nature, Rabé was wise beyond her years and, because of her great capacity to listen to others, was soon told about Padmé's unfortunate encounter at the ball the night before. This remained the topic of their discussion even as they entered into their first class.

Padmé soon found that even her mere presence could not save her from criticism.

"That was really horrible of him," Rabé readily agreed while the three of them pulled out their manuals, Piloting for Perfectionists. Madame DesLauriers told me this morning that she would not allow a single one of us to be courted by him, even if it means that one of us goes back to Naboo without a husband!"

"Maybe he's just shy," Sabé said in a more positive note though the other two exchanged weary looks.

"Shy people aren't like that, Sabé," Padmé scolded. "I know you have a hard time speaking badly about people, but there is just a certain point when you're just being ridiculous," she said angrily, slamming her manual down on the desk. "Do you know what that pompous nerf-herder said about me?"

"Padmé…" Rabé said quietly, her eyes quickly looking to the front of the classroom as she folded her hands in her lap.

Still, Padmé had not noticed how quiet her friends and the rest of the class had become. Even Eirtaé, for whom it was practically impossible to not speak, was silent. "Do you know what that stuck-up jerk said about me?" Padmé cried out angrily. "He said…"

"To close your book and to remain with me for a moment once class has ended?" an icy voice whispered into her ear.

Gulping, Padmé felt him so close to her that she could literally feel his breath against her ear.

I'm dead she thought helplessly. Padmé was so startled that she accidentally squeaked in fright.

No you're not- I have an ethical code against killing my problem students a voice in her head replied darkly.

Frozen in her spot, Padmé did not so much as blink as the dark figure strode to the front of the classroom. It was dark in the room, and for a moment he just stood there, but all of the sudden his eyes flickered up and came to rest on Padmé.

"Welcome to your first class on piloting," he said in a cool tone. "Here, you will be learning the nuances of becoming a talented pilot and- hopefully- you will progress through this course without much struggle." Once again, he deliberately paused as he looked directly at Padmé. His gloved hand gestured to the walls which were covered in maps of star systems. "I am Master Skywalker, and I will teach you the art of flying."

Though Padmé certainly did not want to admit it, Master Skywalker held a captive audience. She, along with the rest of the other young ladies, scarcely took a breath or even blinked while he spoke.

Just as she was pondering this, the door flung open and everyone turned around to see who had boldly intruded. "Master Skywalker!" a throaty feminine voice called out as the door shut with a click. "How could you possibly have started lessons without me?"

"I managed." Anakin's normally critical face had just become even more irked looking.

The newcomer was a tall, human female with curly brown hair that ended at about her waist. Extraordinarily pretty with a decided air about herself, she instantly evoked both awe and jealousy in all the other women. As she made her way up the aisle, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and swayed her hips. With a broad smile on her face, she reached the front of the room. "I am Miss Talek, Master Skywalker's TA," she announced, deftly slipping her hand into that of the glowering Master.

Acting like he'd been stung, Anakin glared at her and, with some difficulty, managed to pry his hand free of hers. Miss Talek sulked and moved to sit behind Anakin's desk where she began the strenuous task of touching up her makeup.

"I think I'm on her side at the moment," Padmé whispered to her two friends, but they ignored her.

"You will not be needing those," Anakin said, gesturing to the book on the desk in front of him. Much to all of their surprise, all of the books flew across the room and neatly landed on a shelf. "As I said, piloting is an art from and it cannot be learned through memorization and note-taking," Master Skywalker said in a quiet voice that could nevertheless be heard in every corner of the silent room.

At this, about half of the women, including Padmé, quickly hid their datapads.

The tall man turned his back to them and faced the chalkboard. Almost magically, an unused piece of chalk hovered above the slate and began to write.
Piloting as an Art Form
It was so effortless that he didn't even blink. "You will learn how to think, feel, and become one with your starship," he continued to whisper almost reverently, closing his eyes as he paced. "I will make each and everyone of you into experienced pilots, but you must do your part…"

Suddenly, he stopped midsentence to glare at Padmé who had her hand up high in the air.

"Don't you think it's rather arrogant of yourself to presume that you can teach us without any further references beside yourself?" Padmé asked innocently without waiting for his permission to speak.

"Miss Padmé, would you be so kind as to keep your observations of my personality out of this classroom?"

The room went silent and even Miss Talek gaped at him, the lipstick she held frozen him motion by her lips.

"In order to better understand your instructional style, would it not be wise for me to observe you in both the roles of an esteemed Jedi Master and a human being?" Padmé challenged defiantly, ignoring Sabé when the girl pinched her arm in warning. In the next moment, she shivered as he narrowed his blue eyes at her.

"So," he said with pursed lips, "You are going to form your opinions of me based on my efforts to maintain a respectful atmosphere conducive to learning?"

Padmé became silent.

Squaring his broad shoulders, the Jedi Master turned back to the chalkboard, the piece of chalk hovering back into position.

Padmé raised her hand.

With a primal roar, Anakin hurled the piece of chalk at her in such a forceful way that Padmé was barely able to duck it in time.

Everyone gasped.

Shakily, Padmé sat back up just as the projectile hit the wall and fell to the floor in tiny pieces.

Anakin stood there breathing heavily for a couple of moments. "Your reflexes are just as sharp as your tongue," he said. Something in his voice conveyed his obvious surprise. "It will come in handy."

She raised her hand again. By then, Sabé was furiously trying to pull it down while Rabé scooted away from Padmé lest she should find herself in the next line of fire. "I have come to a conclusion," Padmé announced, ignoring the look on his face when she once again spoke without permission, "though I am still trying to decide whether there is a human being beneath that cold shell of yours." When he looked her boldly in the eyes, she defiantly stared him down. "You do not intimidate me, Master Jedi. As Queen of Naboo during the Trade Federation's invasion, I had withheld even the greatest of enemies- surely I can survive an arrogant pretty boy who calls himself a Master but who really is a self-centered, uncouth, less-than-a-slave, being!"

Triumphant, Padmé paused, allowing her breathing to go back to normal.

"You will have the opportunity to take up this discussion later when you are serving detention," he said flatly. "For a week."
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Thirty Minutes Later, Piloting Classroom

Since her punishment had already been determined, Padmé thought she could easily slip away the moment the bell rang. Thinking of what all she'd learned so far- quality material, she begrudgingly acknowledged- she almost made it to the door.

"Miss Padmé, I would like a word with you."

Stopping short of the door, Padmé momentarily closed her eyes and clenched her jaw before turning around to face him with a much more respectful countenance. When he said nothing but continued to expectantly watch her, she slowly walked over to his desk behind which he patiently sat.

"Miss Padmé," he repeated, gesturing to the chair placed in front of the desk. Obediently, she sat down in it. "I just wanted to let you know how very little I appreciated your rude behavior today."

"How is it any different than the way you treated me last night?" she asked quietly, refusing to meet his scrutinizing eyes. "I was a complete stranger to you yet you felt the need to be unpardonably rude to me." Angry, she stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder.

He said nothing, even when she headed back towards the door.

Why, she knew not, but Padmé suddenly stopped. Instead of defiance consuming her person like before, she looked back at him nervously. "I… I've never had a detention," she stammered nervously, looking down at the floor. "What will I be doing?"

"You and I shall work together to find the secret to stopping death. The Temple Archives, tomorrow night at eight o'clock."
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Next Morning, Dining Hall

Puzzled, Padmé had numbly wandered around for the rest of the day. It was only during the next morning that she was brought back into reality.

"Oh, Mistress Sabe!" See Threepio called out, waving his hands. Momentarily, everyone paused in their eating to watch the golden driod patter to the table. "This just came for you," the driod said, handing the confused Sabé a datapad.

Suddenly more awake, Madame DesLauriers tried to peer down the full length of the table to see what it said.

"It's from Miss Talek," Sabé said excitedly, her shaking hands holding the datapad. A small but delighted laugh escaped her. "She's invited Padmé and I to dine with her and the Viceroy of Alderaan!"

"Oh my goodness!" Madame DesLauriers cried out. "It's about time!" she practically exploded at the other end of the table. The Jedi at the surrounding tables watched her with startled looks on their faces. "You two had best be thinking of what you'll wear."

Glumly, Padmé stirred her porridge. "I won't be able to go," she said sadly.

"Why ever not?" the headmistress boomed, causing a few people to jump.

"I've got detention," Padmé whispered, her cheeks becoming pink with embarrassment.

"Nonsense!" the woman cried out. "You never get detentions!" Then, she got a good look at Padmé's sorrowful face. "What ill qualified teacher dared to do this to you?"

"Master Skywalker," Eirtaé helpfully supplied. She sat next to the headmistress, as ususal.

The woman pursed her lips before standing up and cutting a war path to the Master's table. All the young ladies, especially Padmé, apprehensively watched the tall woman approach the unsuspecting Jedi Master. Anakin was quietly talking with Obi-Wan and, by the frequent looks the older man sent Sabé, they were talking about her.

Everyone in the room became silent as Madame DesLauriers cast her long shadow on the Jedi and he looked up from his meal.

Silence.

"What?" Madame DesLauriers bellowed out a moment later. Even Mace Windu was looking at her in alarm by then. "How can you be so rude? Padmé is my best and most respectful student! A weeks detention? I forbid it!"

Expressionless, the Jedi replied back and, by reading his lips Padmé saw him reply, "If you do not want me to extend it, I would suggest that you end this discussion."

Fuming, the headmistress stomped back to the table and collapsed into her chair, muttering some choice words about the Master.

"It's alright," Padmé consoled her worried friend.

"He won't be there," Sabé said a little downtrodden. "Could I borrow the speeder" she asked a little more brightly.

"Absolutely not!" Madame DesLauriers exclaimed, making Sabé's remark sound absolutely preposterous. She was still fuming from Anakin's rebuttal.

"But Madame, how will she get there?" Padmé asked, worried about her friend.

"She can take the local transport."

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That Evening, Visitor's Wing

Right after classes were over for the day, Padmé helped Sabé dress into the blond-haired girl's evening gown.

"I am quite proud of you for not fighting with Master Skywalker today," Sabé said quietly as Padmé laced up the back of her dress. Both knew how badly Padmé hurt from having to decline the invitation, and they were determined to leave it unmentioned.

"I'm saving my energy for tonight."

"Don't worry about me," Sabé said as if she could read Padmé's thoughts. She patted her friend's hand. "I'll be alright." Reaching down, she held up her skirt to reveal the blaster that was tucked into her garter.

Though it was a comforting but disturbing sight, Padme could only wish she had Madame DesLauriers optimism.

Then again, perhaps she was better off without it.

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Ten Minutes Later, Jedi Temple Archives

"There you are," a curt voice said from behind her.

Nearly jumping in fright, Padmé found herself standing face to face with Anakin Skywalker.

"Don't dawdle," he ordered, gesturing to a nearby table that was laden with holocrons.

Begrudgingly, Padmé sat down and began her task. After an hour of such tedious work, she looked up to find that the Jedi Master had sat down at the table with her and was also pouring over the text. His brow was furrowed in concentration and he did not notice that she was gaping at him.

"Why are we doing this?" she asked, voicing the question that had been on her mind this past day.

In response, he marked his place with his finger and looked up impatiently. "Enough questions," he snapped. "You may go."

Confused, Padmé left the empty Archives, but she vowed to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Anakin Skywalker.
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I took a part from the HP Goblet of Fire movie- if you want to see what happened in their first defense Against the Dark Arts class, go to yahoo and watch the clip!
Here's a sneak peak for the next chapter: Chapter 4: "Miss Sabé's (un)Fortunate Plight"

After just one night of detention, Padmé was already dreading the next encounter with the moody Jedi Master. Not caring if she was late, Padmé slowly walked into his classroom well beyond the time he had requested.

And stopped dead in her tracks.

He was there, seated behind that large desk of his, but this wasn't what alarmed her. Eyes squeezed shut, tears rolled down his handsome face as a gloved hand reached up to wipe them away. Shoulders shook as he cried and, for the moment, he was oblivious to her presence.

"Master Skywalker?" Padmé said quietly.

No reply.

"Master Skywalker?" she asked worriedly, deciding to enter the room. She quickly went to his side and, after a moment of hesitation, rested her hand on his broad shoulder.

Startled, he looked up at her. "Miss Padmé!" he exclaimed in a surprised tone that showed he had forgotten all about her obligation to come.

Monster or not, Padmé could not stand to see him suffer alone. "What's wrong?"

"I have lost someone… very dear to me," he said quietly, his bloodshot eyes finding hers. No longer was he the moody and unfriendly Master that had instructed her that afternoon- he was a young man who hurt terribly.

And it was her duty to help him.