tatooine slave culture taken from the wonderful Fialleril and dai bendu conlang from the much more impressive than myself authors of Heart Language, both over on ao3

dune has trained two padawans and has definitely not asked for a third, but the kid on his couch is cute and sad and . . . well, he wasn't ever gonna say no, was he?

A'Duné du Taeglin is a very busy Avid.

There is lunch to be had, dishes to be done, reports to be written, Council members to speak to—well. The point was, Dune is drowning in loose ends and has no time to train yet another padawan. And yet, despite everything he has to do, on the couch sits a sad mop of a Human boy.

Anakin Skywalker, the boy's name is, nine years old and freshly plucked from the gaping maws of that very same institutional slavery both Senate and Council oft turned a blind eye to. His braided blond hair and blue eyes are rare on a Human with skin as dark as his. Bred, Dune supposes, for some Hutt with a kink. He's far too old for this, really.

"Little one," Dune says, "would you like to take a shower? I'll make some food while you clean up."

Anakin nods mutely, presumably a little shell-shocked from the turn of events that had happened in the Council Chamber not an hour before. Dune shepherds the boy into the 'fresher with a change of clothes before returning to the kitchenette in his quarters.

Pancakes, Dune thinks, should be alright. His first padawan, another Human named Adalee, had greatly enjoyed pancakes when she had lived with him, even if she had often called his vegan recipes a travesty. Dune will have to introduce Anakin to Adalee and Crayven after he's taken the boy to the Temple Healers. If Dune remembered correctly, Adalee had a padawan a few years older than Anakin, who could perhaps help him learn the ropes.

Anakin pads dejectedly back into the kitchen as Dune is ladling the first pancakes into the pans. "Would you like to help?"

The boy perks up at the invitation.

"Here," Dune says, "do you see those little bubbles? The pancakes are ready to flip after all those bubbles pop. Have you ever had pancakes before?"

"I don't think so," Anakin says, "We never had much food back on Tatooine, and the Naboo ate a lot of fruit."

"Well," Dune tells him, "then you're in for a treat! I'll tell you a secret: I'm the best at making pancakes."

Anakin looks up at him with wide eyes, troubles momentarily forgotten. "Really?"

"Yep!" Dune tugs the tiny padawan braid behind Anakin's ear, "Your sister-padawan said so, and I've learned whatever she says is always true."

Anakin, intently staring at the pancake bubbles, asks, "What's a sister-padawan?"

"A sister-padawan is another padawan your Jaieh—your teacher—trained," Dune explains, "and you've got a brother-padawan, too."

"Like how if Qui-Gon trained me, Obi-Wan would be my brother-padawan?"

"Exactly," Dune says. He lifts a corner of a pancake and beckons Anakin closer. "See how it's golden-brown, now? That's when you know it's ready to flip."

Aided by years of practice and possibly thousands of breakfasts, Dune deftly flips the pancakes before turning the stove off. He'd wanted to save the hard conversations for after they'd eaten, but something told him Anakin would benefit from it sooner, rather than later.

"Anakin," he says, "do you understand why the Council asked me to train you instead of Obi-Wan?"

Anakin's little face shutters at the question. "Because Master Qui-Gon died and Master Obi-Wan doesn't want me."

"Oh," Dune says, "no, little one. Knight Kenobi did not—look at me, Anakin."

Anakin snaps his head up. Dune mentally kicks himself when he sees the boy's terrified face. "Anakin," he says, rushing to correct his mistake, "I only asked you to look at me so you could see I'm not lying. I would never hurt you for not doing something I asked, do you understand?"

Fear lingers in Anakin's eyes, but the boy gives a hesitant nod. Dune takes it—he would have to work on that later, but right now he had bigger fish to fry.

"The Council didn't ask me to train you because Knight Kenobi didn't want you," he says, "but because I came to the Temple late, as you did."

"Did—did Master Yoda tell you that you were too old, too?"

"Oh, yes," Dune says, giving Anakin a cheeky grin, "But do you know what I think? I think Jaieh Yoda is just feeling threatened by everyone here who's younger than him. He looks kinda like a troll, don't you think?"

Anakin looks appalled by Dune's proclamation, but he does give a little giggle. "My mom always said it's not nice to call people names."

Score, Dune thinks. "Well, your mom's absolutely right. My point is, Jaieh Yoda says a lot of things, but those things may not always be correct. I was almost an adult when I came to the Temple—that's pretty old, isn't it? But yet, I'm still here. So if I'm a Jedi, then you can be a Jedi, too."

"But what about the other stuff?" Anakin asks, "Like with the fear and the hate and stuff?"

Dune huffs, brushing Anakin with a wing. "'Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering?'"

Anakin nods. "I don't wanna hate anybody, or have to suffer or anything."

"When I first came here," Dune says, "I was afraid, too. I'd never been anywhere quite like the Temple before, and the Jedi were so different from my family. The trick to fear, Anakin, is that you can't let it sit, because if you do, then all the other stuff comes after. If you're ever afraid, Padawan, I want you to come to me or another adult, alright? And if anyone tells you that it's the will of the Force or anything, come tell me and I'll make them eat a shoe."

"Ew!" Anakin giggles and Dune gives his hair a ruffle before turning back to the pancakes.

"Come on, let's finish this up, then we can go to the Healing Halls."

Stass Allie tells Dune his padawan needs a full round of vaccinations and has a bomb in his neck. The first, Dune was prepared for. The second, not so much.

"What?" he hisses, "a bomb?"

Healer Allie nods. "Slavers use them to keep their . . . ah, property from running away."

"Can you get it out?"

"I'm not sure," the Tholothian says, "It looks like it was implanted when he was very young, and now his spine has grown around it. I think I can take the tracker out, but I'm worried his spinal cord will be damaged if we try for the bomb. We'll have to take a few more images to make sure."

Dune exhales harshly. "Okay," he says, "do what you need to do for now and we'll worry about the rest when the time comes."

Healer Allie nods. "Of course. Though—I'm not sure if it will be wise to discuss this with the boy, Master du Taeglin. He has enough to worry about, and I would caution against stressing him out more."

Dune inclines his head, feathers ruffling. "I will take your words into consideration."

They make their way back to Anakin, who is perched on a bed and looking rather worried.

He scrambles upright as Dune and Stass draw closer. "Masters—"

Dune waves a hand to cut him off. "You're perfectly all right, little one. Healer Allie and I were just discussing the vaccinations you'll be needing. Do you know what those are?"

Anakin doesn't, so Stass gives him a quick explanation. The boy is incredibly brave through all the pokes Healer Allie gives him, only whimpering a time or two on the larger needles.

"Good job!" Healer Allie tells Anakin when she's done, offering a bowl of sweets for him to choose from.

Anakin looks as if he's been offered all the secrets of the universe, and Dune smiles encouragingly at his padawan. "Caramel's really good," he says, holding one up.

Anakin takes the sweet, chirping a quick thank you at Healer Allie, and scrambles off the bed. Dune holds a hand out for him. "You up for a little tour? We can go to the Room of a Thousand Fountains."

"Yeah!"

For Dune, who had grown up on a planet whose people were so attuned with nature, the Room of a Thousand Fountains was a little piece of paradise on the city-planet of Coruscant. It was his favorite place in the Temple, full of light and peace.

Anakin's eyes are wide as he takes in the Room. "There's so much water!"

"Younglings sometimes learn how to swim here," Dune says. "Do you know how to swim?"

Anakin shakes his head, nose wrinkled. "Tatooine's full of sand."

"No worries," Dune says, "Sand is pretty hard to swim in. I'll teach you another time, but for now, I want to show you my favorite fountain."

"Is it the big one?"

Dune laughs. "Not quite, Padawan-mine. It's actually quite small, but sometimes the smallest things are the best."

"I like the big fountain."

"Well, I like you, and you're pretty small."

Anakin looked rather startled at Dune's offhand remark, but the Avid chalks it up to the fact that he was a near stranger throwing around compliments. "This is it," he says, bringing Anakin to a graceful, bird-shaped fountain tucked in the corner of the room.

Anakin trails a hand along the details of the bird's wings. "It's really pretty."

"It reminds me of home," Dune says. He settles onto the grass. "In Maris, the capital city of the planet I come from, there's a huge fountain that looks a little like this one in front of the Magistrate, which is kind of like the Senate."

Anakin sits down next to Dune, fingers toying with a blade of grass. "What's your planet like?"

Dune smiles. "Fay is amazing," he says, "It's pretty small compared to other planets, but there's a lot of natural diversity. When I was really little, I used to live in the desert, but then I went to Maris to learn how to be a Mage. After that, I came here."

"Do you miss it?"

"Every day, little one."

"Have you gone back to visit?"

"Unfortunately not."

Anakin frowns. "Is it because the Council said you have to let go of your past?"

"Don't take everything the Council says at face value," Dune says, "It's important to listen, of course, but wisdom tends to go stale if you only take it from one place."

"Like bread?"

"Exactly. I haven't gone back to Fay simply because it's galaxies away," Dune says. "I do have a question for you, though. Can you explain how slavery on Tattoine works?"

"Yeah," Anakin says, "Most of us belong to the Hutts because they have the most money. But sometimes they'll lose bets or decide someone isn't useful anymore and then they'll sell us to other people. Sometimes masters would lend us out to other people, too."

Dune frowns. "What about trackers? How do those work?"

"The masters put trackers in us to keep us from running away," Anakin says, "and the people on the Freedom Trail have to get them out before they can take us to safe houses. Mom helped them sometimes."

Dune runs a hand through his head crest. "Okay," he says, "and buying your own freedom? Will the masters let you do that?"

Anakin worries at his lip. "No? At least, I don't think so."

"How did Jaieh Qui-Gon free you, then?"

"Oh," Anakin says. "He won me in a pod race. To pay for the parts for his ship."

Dune has to physically restrain himself from facepalming. "Qui-Gon didn't win you," he says, "and he should've told you that before he so helpfully died. You're free, Anakin, and I'm sorry we didn't make that clear to you before."

The boy looks to the side. "Master Qui-Gon said that, too," he says, "but then he also said I had to call him Master, so . . . ."

"Little one," Dune says, "you don't need to call anyone Master if it makes you uncomfortable. You can call me Teacher, or Mage, which is my title on Fay, or you can use whatever you called your teachers on Tatooine. Or, and you've probably noticed by now, but here at the Temple, we Jedi speak a language called Dai Bendu, which has its own word for teacher, which is Jaieh."

Anakin nods hesitantly. "Jaieh."

Dune smiles encouragingly. "Kitobo, Padawan kat fehl. That means 'Good, Padawan-mine.' We'll get you speaking Dai Bendu in no time!" He pauses. "Now, I did want to talk to you about something Healer Allie told me, which I think you have a right to know. Are you aware of where your own tracker is?"

Anakin shakes his head. "Mom didn't have time to look for it before Master—before Jaieh Qui-Gon took me away."

Dune blows a breath out forcefully. "Anakin . . . I can't tell you I know how your culture—the slaves' culture works, exactly, but before I came to the Jedi, I traveled with a few friends of mine, trying to right the wrongs in this galaxy. We . . . freed a few Hutt-owned slaves, and they were all quite adamant we remove their chips while they could watch. There's something important about that, isn't there?"

"Yeah," Anakin says slowly, "we—the Amavikka don't believe we're freed until our chips get removed. I thought—I thought maybe when we went to Healing Halls we'd be—y'know. Taking it out?"

"I had Healer Allie run a scan," Dune says. He rubs a hand over his face. "It showed—well, your chip is in your spine, little one, and Healer Allie thinks it might be dangerous to take it out."

"But—" Anakin's face screws up, "You said I was free!"

"You are, little one," Dune says, extending a wing around Anakin and gently grasping the back of his neck like if he were a chick. "The chip is in a spot where removing it might mean paralysis. Believe me, I know how important culture and autonomy are, but I would rather you be able to fight those who put that chip in you than take a gamble with death. You are more than a tracker in your neck, little one."

"But I'm not, though! The Amavikka—" Anakin is shaking now, and if Dune hadn't grown up in a desert, he would have wondered why the boy wasn't crying, too. Unbidden, Dune hears his mother's voice in his head: "Tears are a waste of water, little one. Their words aren't worth our lifeblood."

"Little one," Dune says now, "I know how hard this is—trust me, I know—"

"But do you?" Anakin snaps, "You aren't a slave!"

"No," Dune says softly, "but what you're feeling right now—the fear, the anger—I understand that perfectly well. Let me ask you something, Anakin. When Jaieh Qui-Gon freed you, you could've gone with Queen Amidala back to Naboo. Why did you choose to be a Jedi?"

Anakin narrows his eyes. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Just humor me."

The boy looks down, biting his lip, before his eyes flick back to Dune's. "It . . . it felt right. The Force—the Force said I should be here, so I stayed."

"The Force brought us together for a reason," Dune says, reaching out and cupping Anakin's face, "We must trust in its path. Your body is yours and yours alone, yes, but take this—" Dune hovers a hand over Anakin's neck, where the chip was— "little one, Rain-Bringer, and show them you are more than what they made you out to be."

"I'm scared, Jaieh," Anakin whimpers, "I dunno if I can."

"Have faith, little one," Dune tells him, "I'll be with you every step of the way."

this is a completely finished fic that i'm transporting over from ao3. sound off if you're interested in the whole thing being uploaded here lol (this is a shameless plea for comments)