.


And time for all the works and days of hands

That lift and drop a question on your plate;

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a toast and tea.

-T.S. Eliot The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock


Chapter 16 Dinner

Obi-Wan stretched, straining against the dull ache that had settled into his muscles, before relaxing back onto the grass with a slight frown. Sitting stone still the day after an intense workout hadn't done his body any favors, but it had been necessary. Yesterday's meditation had been long, violent hours purging himself of the worst of the poison. Today's meditation, though equally long, had been about piecing himself back together and seeing what was left.

The guilt had faded into the background, worn out after being hacked to pieces. The need for justice had mellowed into something more rational, something less overwhelming and intense. And after today's meditation, he was more sure of his control. Obi-Wan knew he wasn't healed, but he was also confident that he wouldn't be bleeding his emotions into the Force so loudly that even Anakin—untrained, oblivious Anakin—could feel it.

And speak of the Darkside, he thought wryly, sensing Anakin appear at the edge of the garden. The Jedi double checked his mental shields, still wary after yesterday morning, and waited to see if Anakin would find him, hidden as he was in the overgrown garden. Obi-Wan followed Anakin's progress, first through the Force, and then with his ears as Anakin crashed down one of the paths. With his peregrinations and distractions, it took awhile, but Obi-Wan wasn't surprised when Anakin appeared at the far end of his chosen clearing—the child had a knack for finding him.

"Whatchya doin'?" Anakin called out, taking a shortcut across the grass to Obi-Wan's position.

"Lying down," Obi-Wan responded wryly.

Anakin frowned, aware he was being teased but still unsure of how to tease back. Instead, he busied himself sitting down on the grass near one of the late-blooming flower beds.

Taking pity on the boy, Obi-Wan spoke again, "How were your lessons today?"

Anakin shrugged, picking at the grass, "Ok, I guess. Do I really have to go everyday though? I heard Sabe saying yesterday that most kids only have to go five days a week."

"That's up to the Naboo." It felt strange passing off responsibility for Anakin to someone else. At Anakin's crestfallen face Obi-Wan added, "But I expect it's only until you get caught up in your studies."

"It's not my fault I'm behind!"

"I never said it was. But you still need to catch up."

Anakin shrugged, annoyed, but unsure where to aim that annoyance. He shredded his handful of grass.

But the silence became too much for Anakin, as it always did when he wasn't with his machines. Obi-Wan's eyes drifted into the middle distance, letting Anakin's voice wash past him. The boy chattered on about his lessons and his two new tutors (one of etiquette and the other for more academic subjects) and how Rabe promised to introduce Anakin to her younger brothers and how Sabe had promised he could stop by and borrow a couple more of her holo-vids and how—

There was a shift in the air and suddenly the Force was sparkling with curiosity.

"Hey! Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. At some point in his ramblings, Anakin had gone from shredding grass to poking through flower beds; he was pointing at something below Obi-Wan's line of sight at the base of one of the shrubs at the center of the bed. The sky overhead had deepened. We'll have to get ready soon.

"Yes, Anakin?"

"What's that?"

Obi-Wan sighed before heaving himself upright, and knelt next to Anakin to see what the boy's grubby fingers were poking at. His face quirked in distaste. Obi-Wan hated bugs. They were so…uncivilized.

"It's a terraworm," Obi-Wan informed the child.

Said terraworm rippled under Anakin's probing fingers, its pink body trying to wriggle back into the soil. Anakin looked to him to check that it was safe to pick up and at Obi-Wan's nod he scooped it up gently between his fingers. It squirmed, trying to escape and he had to keep his fingers cupped loosely to keep from squishing the struggling bug.

Anakin pulled it up to his eyes, studying it closely from every angle, until Obi-Wan wanted to snap get that away from your face!

"What does it do?" Anakin asked.

"It eats dirt." Pause. "You are washing your hands when we go back inside."

Anakin grinned mischievously and shoved the worm into Obi-Wan's face. Recognizing the dare, the man held his ground and gave Anakin a look over the grubby hand.

"You know, we are both expected to attend the dinner in an hour."

"You just don't like bugs."

Anakin's statement was as true as his own, but there was no reason to acknowledge that. Obi-Wan settled back with a warning, "We need to head inside soon."

But Anakin ignored him, gently setting the worm back into the dirt and renewing his exploration. Obi-Wan shook his head and let it go.

"What are these?" Anakin demanded, a moment later.

The Jedi leaned forward again to look. Small, three-beaded little creatures marched in a line under his hovering finger. Anakin's hand dipped low and a couple of the insectoids crawled onto his finger.

"Those? Ants, I believe." Obi-Wan said, remembering similar creatures from other worlds.

"Ants?"

"Hm," Obi-Wan said with a nod, leaning back again onto his heels.

Anakin frowned, watching them march. "What do they do?"

Obi-Wan shrugged, "They eat."

"What?"

Obi-Wan couldn't resist: "Humans."

Startled, Anakin gasped and jumped, trying to flick the bugs off in a panic—until he caught sight of Obi-Wan. There must have been some crack in the Jedi's sabaac face because Anakin's panic immediately morphed into aggrieved annoyance.

"Obi-Wan!"

That actually pulled out a half-chuckle. "It really depends on the species. Food—that is, sentient's food—dead plants, fruit, other bugs. The ones on Parnassus, though, can strip a bovine down to the bone in a few minutes."

The Force around Anakin danced between fascination and disgust. "Really? Stars! That's so wizard!"

But Obi-Wan knew better than to let Anakin get distracted again. "Regardless of your intriguing discoveries, we need to get you inside and cleaned up for the dinner." Obi-Wan stood and brushed himself off. He gazed down expectantly at Anakin, who peevishly fisted the grass and shot Obi-Wan a half glare.

"I don't wanna go to some stupid stuffy dinner!"

"I thought you were excited about seeing Padme again?"

Anakin scowled. "She won't be Padme tonight," he muttered.

Obi-Wan acknowledged the truth of the statement with a tilt of the head, but continued looming, making it clear that it was no excuse. Anakin scowled again and looked away. Obi-Wan stretched out a hand to help Anakin off the ground, but the boy batted it away irritably.

"Let's go, Anakin," he repeated, a bit more sternly.

"But—"

"You have an obligation as a Ward of Naboo."

"I didn't ask to be!"

"No, you didn't," Obi-Wan agreed, taking the wind out of Anakin's outburst. "But I think you'll find a lot of things happening to you in life that you didn't ask for—for better and for worse. Time to face this one."

Anakin ignored him, poking moodily at the dirt. Obi-Wan held his ground, worried that Anakin wouldn't listen to him. If that was the case, there would be nothing Obi-Wan could do to stop it, short of carrying Anakin to dinner (and somehow he thought that might be counterproductive). Fortunately, his fears proved unfounded as Anakin slowly, reluctantly, stood up.

Obi-Wan took the lead, heading back to their rooms, Anakin sulking behind him, walking as slowly as possible.

"Be grateful that the delicacies of this planet are meant for Humans," Obi-Wan informed Anakin over his shoulder.

Curiosity piqued, Anakin abandoned his sulk and bounced up to Obi-Wan's elbow, the better to pepper him with questions: "Why? Have you had to eat bugs before? Or dirt? Or sand? Or bark? Or—"

The Jedi sighed effusively, cutting off the stream of questions. "It was nothing. I—"

"Oh! You did!"

Obi-Wan protested, shaking his head dismissively. "It was a few years ago, on a mission …"

He told a story, embellishing where necessary and making it very clear just how disgusting the 'delicacy' really had been and how much had hinged on pleasing his hosts. The tale drew cries of denial and amazement from Anakin, who was too distracted to notice that he'd been neatly maneuvered into cleaning up for the dinner.


Anakin swung his feet, irritated that he couldn't reach the floor. His amazement at how pretty Padme looked had been quickly pushed out by rising nerves and seething annoyance. The chairs were too big for him, the clothes Sabe had made him wear were itchy, and he didn't like his shoes. It wasn't fair! Obi-Wan got to stay in his normal clothes, why couldn't he?

He picked up his drink, making sure to pick up the glass on the right, and took a sip, careful not to spill anything.

Sabe had told him he was lucky that his first state dinner was a small one, and glancing down the table, he supposed it was true—he did know everyone except the man with the funny beard, Governor something-or-other, who was sitting next to the Padme. And someone had made sure Anakin was sitting next to Obi-Wan and across from Sabe so he had people to talk to.

But and Sabe had started out nice enough, but then she had started talking to Obi-Wan and now neither of them were talking to Anakin, and there were too many forks and Padme hadn't said a single word to him (other than hello and how are you doing and are you settling in well) and it was all just awful.

Anakin wasn't even sure why they were having a state dinner or why he was there (he was pretty sure they'd told him, but it had sounded boring and he hadn't paid much attention). Why couldn't he eat in the South Wing dining hall with Obi-Wan and Sabe like he had all the other nights? Those dinners were for everyone who lived in the palace, not just the important people. There, all the food was on the table already instead of coming out in courses and as long as he didn't use his fingers or talk with his mouth full, no one cared about his manners. Here, Anakin was so busy minding his manners that he didn't even want to talk.

Which was probably a good thing since all the grown-ups were talking about was Naboo and rebuilding and stuff. All the way through the soup course and the seafood course. Part of Anakin was tempted to interrupt and say something that was actually interesting, but Obi-Wan, Sabe, and his tutor had made it very clear just how much trouble he'd get into if he did that.

Anakin kept his mouth shut.

He sighed loudly, picking at weird food on his plate (which they'd told him was called shellfish, but since there weren't any shells on his plate, Anakin was pretty sure Sabe had been pulling his leg), pushing it around with his fork. He tangled his fingers in the fancy table cloth.

An arm entered his line of sight, reaching over his shoulder to pluck his plate off the table and it startled him. A moment later, the next course appeared in front of him like magic (fortunately it appeared much tastier than the last). He surreptitiously checked to see which utensil he was supposed to use this time (there too many forks!) when someone finally spoke to him.

"So, Anakin, what do you think about your new home?" the Chancellor asked, spearing one of the purple vegetables on his plate.

Home. Anakin's stomach jolted at the word; it was such a strange thought the idea of living on a planet like Naboo, of living in a palace like this, in this place that was the exact opposite of Tatooine—even stranger calling any place without his mom home. It made Anakin uncomfortable, so he shrugged, keeping his eyes on his plate, shoving away the word home and hiding it away in the deep part of himself where he stuck things he didn't want to think about.

Someone kicked Anakin under the table. The child's head shot up, eyes wide with surprise and he searched the table for the culprit. He looked to Sabe first, but he could tell right away it wasn't her. It had to be Obi-Wan then—Anakin narrowed his eyes at the Jedi before kicking him back. Obi-Wan gave him a stern look before doing some weird jerky thing towards the end of the table. Anakin scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.

Answer his question! Obi-Wan tilted his head more emphatically.

What? Oh! He glanced in the direction Obi-Wan had looked to find the Chancellor was still staring at him, expecting an answer.

Ooops. Flustered, Anakin blurted out the first response that popped into his head, "This place is pretty wizard! But it's really big."

"It can't be bigger than the Jedi Temple, on Coruscant, can it?" Sabe asked, joining the conversation.

From there, the dinner got better—people started talking to him and the steak was way tastier than the shellfish. He even remembered not to talk with food in his mouth! The steak and purple vegetables were followed by some fancy salad that Anakin didn't eat, despite Obi-Wan's discrete prodding. When the servers cleaned up after that course, his was the only plate still mostly-full of greens.

Finally, finally it was dessert. Two trays of sweets, one with some kind of mushy-looking chocolate stuff and the other with some kind of weird fruit thing drizzled on top. Knowing Obi-Wan would disapprove, he took one of each. Palpatine saw him do it and winked his approval. Anakin grinned back at the Chancellor, feeling pleased.

A moment later, Obi-Wan caught sight of Anakin's abundant desserts. "Anakin!" he hissed, the undertone hidden by the general table conversation. Anakin simply preened and took a spoonful. The Jedi shook his head, but left it alone after rolling his eyes.

Anakin started with the chocolate dessert first; he inhaled the entire thing before the rest of the table had gotten more than half of theirs down—they kept talking instead of eating. Anakin's stomach felt a bit strange, but he shrugged it away, determined to finish both desserts, if only to spite Obi-Wan. He slid the empty dish over to the side, and pulled the fruit dessert into the path of his waiting spoon. Anakin dug in with relish, pausing only to cough (into his napkin, just like he was supposed to) when it caught in his throat.

It was tasty, but he wished one of the desserts was ice cream instead—the room was getting kind of hot.

It wasn't until Anakin had demolished a couple of heaping spoonfuls that his stomach twisted uncomfortably, followed by a strange tickle in his throat. Anakin coughed and took a sip of water to soothe his throat. That settled, he paused, trying to decide if his stomach was done eating or if it was making room for more food. After a moment, Anakin shrugged and took another bite.

Except, it got stuck in his throat.

He coughed again, trying to clear it. It didn't help. He coughed again.

The room felt really hot now and his fingers felt kind of shaky.

"Anakin?"

He couldn't tell who was talking to him, but he flapped a hand in their direction, unsure if it meant Give me a moment or Something's wrong, but he was too busy coughing to decide.

His fingers shook and he blinked water from his eyes. He took a deep breath, but something caught in his chest and in his throat and refused to let the air in, and he gripped the table, trying to remember how to get air into his body. His chest hurt.

"Anakin!"

Panicked, his body tried to hyperventilate, but his throat was closed and it wasn't working so he tried to cough, and then he did, but then he couldn't stop.

Anakin coughed so hard he felt his vision blur out and the voices around him fuzz, but he could distantly feel people swirling around him, scared and loud, and even though Anakin never got scared he really was scared this time and Where is Obi-Wan?

But a moment later, even that much faded behind more hacking, barking coughing, buried under a desperate need to breathe.

Anakin didn't even realize when he blacked out completely.


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