*/*/*/*

Nighttime in the Jedi Temple was a peaceful sanctuary of tranquillity, an oasis on the city-planet that pulsed with its ceaseless activity. Within its ancient walls, where apprentices and masters rested, the quiet was occasionally punctuated by the otherworldly whispers of the night breeze.

But in the room of one apprentice, no peace was to be had. Anakin tossed and turned, caught in the grip of tumultuous dreams. The strong, cocky Jedi-in-training resembled a distressed child in his bed, his fists clutching the edges of his blanket and his brows furrowed in worry.

He was back on his old homeworld of Tatooine. Visions of his mother crying out haunted his sleep and the feeling of coarse, scorching sand under his feet was all too real. Each dream revived the guilt of leaving his mother behind, of being powerless to save her, and of the fear of losing her and all those he held dear.

But even more disturbing than these nightmares were dreams that confused him further. He saw himself standing before Master Windu in a training room of the Jedi Temple, their eyes locked in an intense gaze that left Anakin breathless with heat spreading through his veins. These dreams filled Anakin with an unfamiliar emotion that he couldn't quite name, but made him both euphoric and embarrassed.

His routine didn't change during the day; he trained diligently under Master Windu and his abilities in the Force continued to flourish, but it was clear the sleepless nights were taking a toll on him. He looked pale, his once vibrant blue eyes now lacked their usual sparkle, and an uncharacteristic silence replaced his enthusiasm.

Today his typical impulsivity led to a near-mishap during a strenuous Vaapad training session with Master Windu, which nearly caused him an injury. Mace would not tolerate such transgression, and so he ordered Anakin back to his office to face the Staff of Redemption. The instrument of discipline was now quite familiar to Anakin, but today, he dreaded its application.

But he obeyed his master. In Master Windu's office, Anakin shed his trousers and obediently draped himself over the ottoman, awaiting the lash of the Staff. His body reacted immediately. Before the first strike of the Staff, carnal pleasure flooded his veins and overwhelmed him. His heart pounded in his chest and heat flooded his nether region as a moan slipped past his lips. His skin flushed a deep red hue as he tried in vain to hide his pleasure, the result of the anticipation rather than the actual punishment. "I'm s-sorry Master, I don't mean to..." Anakin mumbled.

"Peace Padawan," Mace's calm voice washed over him, soothing his raw nerves. "It's alright. These things... happen sometimes."

His body's response mortified Anakin, but he was also curious about Mace's reaction. "Has this ever happened to you, Master?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Master Windu's silence spoke volumes and increased Anakin's vulnerability. "It did, didn't it, Master?" Anakin insisted.

Finally, Mace sighed. He lowered the Staff and placed a comforting hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Yes, I've... I've had it happen to me before."

"Did... your master also use the Staff on you?" Anakin asked, his voice soft and tense.

Mace hesitated but answered honestly. "Yes," he conceded, "I wasn't always a model Jedi."

Anakin snorted. "You think you are one now?"

The sassy remark earned him a swift smack to his ass with Mace's hand. Despite the surprise and pain, Anakin appreciated the intimacy of Master Windu's touch, his bare hand striking a chord much deeper than the staff ever could. He always liked when Mace rubbed his tender flesh with the healing oil after the staff had done its duty. Anakin felt his nether region growing an erection, but the moment of warmth was shattered by the sudden sting of the Staff of Redemption striking the back of his thighs.

"Focus young Jedi! You want to be a master of the force? You must master yourself first!" Mace admonished him.

"Yes Master, I'm sorry."

Windu gave him a few more swats across the buttocks. Pain and pleasure mingled, causing a sweet play of sensations. This was supposed to hurt, wasn't it? To teach him a lesson and make him behave properly. Why did it feel so good? When the staff struck the backs of his legs, the pain was sharp but before he could even register it Mace struck his butt again.

"Focus Jedi," he commanded.

"I ca-can't," Anakin whined, trying to hold in his reaction.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I just c-can't," he shuddered, struggling to tamp down the pleasure coiling deep inside him again. "Hit me harder, Master!"

"No, that's not how this works. The intention of the Staff is not to hurt you, Padawan. It's supposed to be a release, to free you of your fears and anxieties, to allow you to live in the moment. Forget about the past. Stop reaching for the future. Focus on right now, right here with me."

Anakin couldn't focus when all he thought about and dreamed about was Mace. "I want to focus, Master. But I-I can't."

"Why? What troubles you, Padawan?" Mace asked, his voice full of concern.

"Sleep. My dreams are getting worse."

"About your mother again?" Mace asked.

Anakin dropped his head into the folds of his robe and refused to answer. He couldn't admit he was also dreaming about Mace.

Taking his silence as confirmation, Mace continued. "Anakin, as Jedi we have to face our fears, conquer them, and move beyond them. You can't let your dreams control you," he said in a comforting voice. "I've made inquiries, but have been unsuccessful in getting a message to your mother. Communications with the outer rim are sparse."

"Especially to a skughole like Mos Espa," Anakin said, defeated.

"Yes. Perhaps a scout will have to be deployed."

Anakin shot up straight and turned to face Mace, spanking forgotten. "Do you mean someone will go there?"

"Yes, if we can spare someone."

"I'll go, Master! Please? Send me. This is my mother. I should be the one to go."

"Anakin, control yourself. I will have to seek the council's permission before anything can be done."

"But you'll ask them? You'll ask for permission to visit my mom?"

"I will ask," Mace said.

"Oh thank you, Master. Thank you!" Anakin threw his arms around Mace's neck and, without thinking, planted kisses on his cheek.

Appalled, Mace tried to pry Anakin away. "Skywalk-"

Anakin captured Mace's lips in a bold kiss before Mace shoved him away. "What the kriff are you doing, boy?!" Mace looked at Anakin in horror.

"Sorry Master, I-I just wanted t-to thank you. I got carried away..." Anakin's eyes were huge as the implication of what he had done dawned on him. Mortified, he adjusted his robes before fleeing the office without a backward glance.

*/*/*/*

Mace sat alone in his office after Anakin fled, trying to process what had just happened. The silence in the room was interrupted only by the hum of Jedi going about their business outside in the temple surrounding him. He could still feel the echoes of Anakin's surprise and mortification reverberating in the Force, the volatile emotions swirling around him like a storm.

And the feel of Anakin's kiss was still fresh on his lips, a lingering warmth that made his heart pound in a way it hasn't for years. He tried to purge it from his mind, but despite his best efforts, the moment replayed over and over. The joy in Anakin's voice, the unexpected warmth of his embrace, and the fleeting second when their lips touched were all etched in his mind.

A myriad of emotions gripped Mace. There was surprise, confusion, and disgust. Not disgust for Anakin, but for himself and his failure as a Master. How had he not seen something like this brewing? Anakin has always worn his emotions for all to see and let his feelings lead his actions. This was just another example of that. His impulsivity and inability to suppress his feelings were traits not admired within the Jedi Order, but they were also what made Anakin... Anakin.

Mace also felt guilt. Not because of what happened, but because of his reaction and what might happen next. Anakin was already walking a delicate line between the light and dark sides, burdened by Qui-Gon's prophecy. Mace worried that this incident might push him further toward the edge. He knew how such potent feelings could consume a Jedi and can pull them away from the path of light.

Mace did not want Anakin to fail. He was actually a good apprentice. He was kind to the younglings, obedient to the other Jedi masters, and he was a Vaapad prodigy, picking up the technique faster than any of Mace's padawans. Mace smiled, recalling Anakin's joy and relief when told they would search for his mother on Tatooine. His ability to feel emotions so passionately, for better or worse, was part of his unique charm. But charming or not, Mace couldn't ignore this behavior. He had to address it immediately. Anakin needed his guidance now more than ever. But how did he approach this situation without driving him away or making him feel ashamed?

The closest person to Anakin was Obi-Wan, but Mace didn't want to burden the young Jedi Master with another situation he couldn't handle. The council entrusted Anakin to Mace's oversight for a reason. With a heavy sigh, he rose from his seat. He needed time to think, to find the right words that would set things right.

He left his office and wandered through the halls of the temple. Moving was always a good way to clear his thoughts, but he couldn't help but feel uneasy. Whether he liked it or not, his relationship with Anakin had taken an unexpected turn, one he would never have anticipated when he took the boy on as his padawan.

Without conscious thought, his feet took him to the door of his old padawan and fellow council member, Depa Billaba. She opened the door and looked pleasantly surprised to see him.

"Master Windu, I am honored," she stepped aside to let him enter. "Care for a drink? Some tea for my old friend?"

Mace walked to the seating area and sat down heavily. "Have anything stronger?"