Chapter Text
It was either very late at night or very early in the morning when Obi-Wan and Satine were roused by the shrill chime of an incoming holocall. The transmission code identified the sender almost immediately: the Royal Palace of Theed on Naboo. Their wanting to go back to bed vanished in an instant. They exchanged a tense glance as Satine accepted the call. It would bring either very good news... or very, very bad.
The familiar figure of Qui-Gon Jinn materialized beside the diminutive Queen Amidala. The Jedi Master looked utterly exhausted, his robes wrinkled and his face lined with fatigue, but he was alive. Obi-Wan hadn't realized how tightly he had been holding himself until the sight of his former master loosened the knot in his chest.
His gaze drifted to the young queen. Despite her very young age, about as young as he was when he became a Padawan, she stood perfectly composed beneath the elaborate face paint and ceremonial robes. (Obi-Wan still found Naboo's political traditions curious. Their head of state was elected, yet they insisted on the title of queen. He supposed Prime Minister Amidala lacked a certain grandeur in the eyes of ambitious children dreaming of one day leading their world.)
Satine, ever disciplined in concealing her emotions, betrayed little outwardly, though Obi-Wan knew her well enough to recognize the relief she felt.
"Your Majesty. Master Jinn," she greeted. "What news do you bring?"
The queen answered first, her white painted expression remaining stony-faced and unreadable. "Things have turned in our favor, Your Excellency. The Trade Federation is being driven from Naboo even now. Their invasion has failed, and I am back on my throne."
For the first time that night, Satine allowed herself to exhale. Relief softened her features, if only for a heartbeat. Obi-Wan rested a reassuring hand against the small of her back. He understood better than probably anyone (save for maybe Master Jinn) why this mattered to her. The exile of the girl-queen echoed far too closely a chapter of their own lives that neither of them cared to remember.
“This is excellent news!” Satine responded.
For the first time since the call had begun, Queen Amidala allowed herself a small smile. "Indeed it is. But there is still much to be done. I already called for a Vote of No Confidence to remove Finis Valorum from the office of Supreme Chancellor. I have also submitted a petition for Jar Jar Binks to represent the Gungan people in the Senate as a separate sovereign delegation."
Obi-Wan had no idea who Jar Jar Binks was, nor what, exactly, a Gungan was. Still it must’ve been… good? Whatever role they had played in the liberating of Naboo, however, must’ve evidently been significant enough to earn them representation in the Republic. He could hardly object to that. Chancellor Valorum, however, was a name he did know. The man was decent enough—well meaning, even—but hopelessly ineffective. Obi-Wan had crossed paths with him often enough while accompanying Satine to Republic functions to see it for himself. Valorum possessed good intentions in abundance, yet lacked either the authority or the political resolve to act on them.
Mandalore, of course, occupied a peculiar position. It maintained close diplomatic ties with the Republic without formally joining it. Republic adjacent if you will. Satine had insisted that the fledgling New Mandalorians needed the freedom to rebuild their world on their own terms rather than under the Senate's direction, and Obi-Wan had wholeheartedly agreed. (Although the Senate tried so very hard to get them to join) Membership could come someday, once the peace they had fought so hard to achieve had truly taken root.
Watching the Senate struggle to respond to Naboo's crisis, however, only reaffirmed that decision. Obi-Wan Kenobi-Kryze dreaded politics at the best of times (and his regard of politicians themselves was not much higher). From everything he had witnessed in the Galactic Senate, it was an institution swollen by bureaucracy, paralyzed by corruption, and so hopelessly tangled in procedure that even the simplest course of action became an ordeal. There wasn’t even room for actual intervention against an unjust blockade by a blasted trade federation.
"And who has become his successor?" Obi-Wan asked.
"The senate has promoted Senator Sheev Palpatine."
Palpatine…
…The name meant nothing to him. Obi-Wan made a quiet mental note to ask Satine about the senator later. He seldom bothered memorizing politicians unless they were rising powers worth cultivating as allies or individuals influential enough to pose a potential threat to Mandalore or, more importantly, to his wife's safety.
Still, if someone as wise beyond her years Queen Amidala trusted the man enough to champion his candidacy, he was sure that this Sheev Palpatine person was someone trustworthy with the best interests of the republic at heart. At least he couldn’t be worse than Valorum.
"Then I wish him every success, Your Majesty."
At last, Qui-Gon spoke.
"The inauguration will be held shortly. You should tune in." His expression remained perfectly composed, though Obi-Wan recognized the dry humor lurking beneath it. "I'm sure the Senate would be delighted to see Mandalore taking such an active interest in galactic affairs."
Obi-Wan huffed a quiet laugh.
Qui-Gon knew exactly how he and Satine felt about that prospect.
More than once, the Jedi Master had arrived on Mandalore under the pretense of a diplomatic mission from the Jedi Council. Officially, he came as an emissary to maintain friendly relations between the Republic and the New Mandalorians. Unofficially, everyone involved understood the Council hoped Qui-Gon's long history with both Obi-Wan and Satine might eventually persuade the duchess to petition for Republic membership.
Thus far, they had all been disappointed. Well... perhaps not all.
Korkie was certainly never disappointed when Qui-Gon visited. The Jedi Master always arrived with a new story from his travels and some small trinket from a distant world tucked away in his robes. And Obi-Wan himself was never sorry to have his old master’s company or a proper sparring partner.
"Regardless," Qui-Gon continued, "we were hoping you would come to Naboo. There will be a victory celebration. I think your family would enjoy the festivities—and Anakin of course." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You can leave him with me afterward. I'll escort him back to the Temple."
Obi-Wan blinked, "The Council reconsidered its decision?"
A faint grimace crossed the Jedi’s face, "I believe they can still be persuaded to see reason."
"And if they can't?" Obi-Wan asked knowingly.
Qui-Gon's silence was answer enough.
"Master," Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, "please don't do anything that ends with you being exiled."
"You have far too little faith in me, my young friend."
"I have exactly the amount experience has earned."
Satine snorted softly.
"Well," she said, shaking her head, "I certainly hope you're right. For Anakin's sake more than anyone's."
Qui-Gon's expression softened. "Thank you, Duchess Satine. Something tells me the boy will be just fine."
For the briefest moment, Queen Amidala's carefully composed features softened as well at the mention of Anakin.
Interesting, Obi-Wan thought.
"We will certainly attend," Satine said. "This is a victory worth celebrating."
Fortunately, Satine and Obi-Wan had managed to rearrange their schedules around an urgent diplomatic engagement. Naturally, the Duchess could hardly attend such a meeting without the Captain of her Guard at her side. And once both parents were leaving the planet, it would have been absurd to leave Korkie behind.
As for Anakin...
Well, it would have been terribly impolite to take one child to Naboo and leave the other behind.
Remarkable how neatly everything had fallen into place.
As the landing ramp lowered, warm spring air drifted into the cabin carrying the scent of cut grass, flowering trees, and fresh rain. Beyond the polished metal of the spaceport, the marble towers of Theed rose above the city, their domes gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. Colorful banners bearing Naboo's crest fluttered from balconies and bridges, while somewhere in the distance musicians could already be heard preparing for the evening's celebration.
Anakin bounded down the ramp before anyone could stop him.
His blue eyes darted from one sight to the next with such speed that Obi-Wan doubted the boy was actually seeing anything except for blue and green blurs. Ornate fountains sprayed crystal water high into the air. Long lines of flowering trees stretched down immaculate boulevards.
"It's so... green," Anakin breathed before running up to the fountain and staring in awe like he was looking at a fountain of precious jewels- and that was before he saw the piles of coins at the bottom.
Obi-Wan smiled despite himself.
For a child who had spent nearly every day of his life surrounded by endless dunes and sun-bleached stone, Naboo must have been giving him quite a culture shock. It had been a long time since he'd last set foot on Naboo. The planet looked much as he remembered; peaceful, elegant, almost painfully idyllic, like some kind of a painting come to life. It was difficult to reconcile those pristine streets with the reports of tanks rolling through them only a few days before.
Beside him, Satine slipped her hand into his.
"They've done remarkable work already," she murmured to him.
"They have." He agreed.
The scars of the invasion remained if one knew where to look. Fresh stone and plaster stood out against older buildings where blaster fire had been repaired in haste. Maintenance droids still hovered around damaged facades. Here and there, citizens paused to embrace returning loved ones with the desperate relief reserved for those who had expected never to meet again. Yet laughter carried through the streets. Life, stubborn as ever, had already resumed carrying on the city.
It wasn't long before the fanfare of a royal procession echoed down the street nearest the spaceport.
Queen Amidala approached at the head of the entourage, flanked by crimson-clad Royal Guards, handmaidens, and a small retinue of attendants. Among them, Obi-Wan recognized an older man draped in what could only be described as a velvet monstrosity masquerading as a robe. Satine had filled him in during the flight on the important names and faces he needed to know of the Nabooian government and he had committed them to memory. He recognized this man as Senator Sheev Palpatine.
Or rather, the Supreme Chancellor Sheeve Palpatine now.
Good for him, Obi-Wan supposed.
Nearby lumbered a gangly amphibious alien whose every other step seemed to end in a stumble or an apology for knocking into someone or something. Obi-Wan sincerely hoped that was not Jar Jar Binks.
Qui-Gon walked just beside the queen.
Without the flickering blue haze of a hologram to obscure him, the damage to his robes was impossible to miss. Great swaths of fabric had been slashed away, exposing the beskar cuirass beneath. Obi-Wan's practiced eye immediately picked out the burn marks which could only have come from a lightsaber into the Mandalorian steel.
Those marks should have been in Qui-Gon's chest. A quiet swell of pride settled in his own. Even halfway across the galaxy, he had still managed to protect his former Master.
It also occurred to him that the pieces of beskar armor he'd given Qui-Gon for Life Day might well have been the finest gift he had ever given.
Seeing them all, Anakin's face lit up.
"Qui-Gon! Padme!”
The boy bolted away from the Kryze family so fast that Obi-Wan was sure that if humans were capable of light speed on their own, Anakin would have just achieved it. The Queen waved a hand and that was all the guards needed to part and make way for the blonde blur headed straight at them. Anakin crashed (really there was no better word for it) into the queen with enough force that it was a miracle she didn’t get knocked to the ground. Her carefully practiced facade of ever-so-important indifference melted away.
“Ani!” she said happily. “I see the Mandalorians have been treating you well.”
Anakin couldn't disagree. He was probably the least hungry he'd ever been, and after one of the palace attendants had patiently explained how a bathtub worked, he was also the cleanest he'd ever been. Sitting in an entire tub of warm water had to be one of the most decadent, extravagant things he'd ever experienced.
The royal family had even given him a new set of clothes for the occasion. He was especially grateful for that now as he stood in front of the regal-looking girl, suddenly very aware of how different he looked from the scruffy boy who had left Tatooine for the first time only days ago.
He nodded in agreement. “Yeah! They’re really nice- and they have a HUGE palace. I even got my own room with a ‘fresher just for me!”
Padmé nodded with exaggerated awe, as though she didn't also live in a palace.
"I'm glad the rest of the galaxy is living up to your expectations."
Anakin nodded again, but the smile faded from his face almost immediately. A melancholy look settled over him.
"It's better than I expected, honestly..."
Padmé frowned. There was something about the way he'd said it that didn't match the words at all.
"What's wrong?"
"It... really is great! Honest!" Anakin insisted. "It's just..."
He hesitated, looking down.
"I wish I could've seen more of it before I get sent back home."
Padmé's smile disappeared.
"What?"
"The Council..." Anakin's hands curled into fists at his sides. "They don't want me!"
The last words came out angry, carrying far more hurt than Anakin probably intended to reveal.
“Anakin…”
Qui-Gon stepped in and rested a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Do not worry. I am sure the Council will eventually see reason. Anakin Skywalker, I promised your mother that you would be trained in the ways of the Jedi, and on my honor, that is a promise I intend to keep, no matter what may come."
Anakin craned his neck to look up at the Jedi Master. There was no hesitation in Qui-Gon's eyes, no uncertainty about what came next. Just absolute certainty.
It was reassuring. After everything the Council had said, after being told he was too old and that they didn't want him, at least Qui-Gon still believed he could become a Jedi. More than that, Qui-Gon had promised his mother. Anakin had a feeling that meant something to him.
Obi-Wan felt a weight settle in his chest as he watched them. There was an unmistakable fondness in the way Qui-Gon spoke to the boy. An eagerness, too, to train him. He had never seen Qui-Gon look at him quite like that, not even when they'd first become Master and Padawan. Perhaps that shouldn't have bothered him anymore. It had been years. He had left the Order, married Satine, built a life on Mandalore. Whatever had happened between them belonged to a different version of himself. Still, the old ache was there. Obi-Wan had never told Qui-Gon that he knew Yoda had been the one to suggest he take him as his apprentice. He'd never said how much that knowledge had stayed with him, either. How it had left him wondering whether Qui-Gon had ever truly wanted him as a Padawan or had simply accepted the assignment because the Council had asked it of him.
Maybe that was part of why leaving had been easier than it should have been. He and Qui-Gon had never quite fit, like pieces from two different puzzles being smashed together. Obi-Wan had wanted structure. Clear expectations. A path he could follow and a Master who would tell him when he was doing something wrong. Qui-Gon wanted flexibility. He trusted instinct where Obi-Wan wanted rules, questioned traditions where Obi-Wan had tried so desperately to understand them. And that of course was to say nothing about the mismatch of their skills at meditation.
They had been good at being Master and Padawan in many ways, but perhaps they had never been particularly good at being each other's Master and Padawan.
And watching Qui-Gon now, so certain and so eager to take Anakin under his wing, Obi-Wan couldn't help wondering if perhaps the problem had never been Qui-Gon at all.
But the thought was quickly pushed aside. It felt foolish even as it crossed his mind. What kind of man would he be if he were jealous of a child? Anakin had done nothing wrong. If anything, Obi-Wan should have been happy for him. The boy had found someone who believed in him and a place he belonged, and Obi-Wan had no right to resent that simply because Qui-Gon had never looked at him quite the same way.
He was snapped out of his spiral when his wife stepped forward and said diplomatically. “Well, there’s time to think about that later. We came here to celebrate. Why don’t you kids go have some fun?”
Korkie ran over to where Anakin and the Queen were standing and began tugging on the older boy’s sleeve, "Come on! We should go find where those musicians are. I wanna hear them better!"
Anakin nodded, already looking ready to run off with him, but then he turned back to Padmé, "Will you come with us?"
He looked up at her with those big, pleading blue eyes. Still, Padmé hesitated.
"Well... I'm expected to preside over the parade." She sounded genuinely torn. She glanced toward the procession, then back at the boys, clearly tempted by the prospect of getting away from the endless ceremony. Sabé rested a hand on her shoulder, then she nodded toward a nearby, mostly empty-looking building.
Padmé's eyes widened slightly, "Oh."
The relief that crossed her face was immediate.
"Are you sure?" she asked. "I had imagined you might want a break after such an... extended turn in the role."
Sabé's mouth quirked.
"Yes, but you did most of the real work, Your Majesty." There was a hint of humor in her voice. "You deserve to go have some fun."
The two girls exchanged a conspiratorial look then they disappeared into the building, several of the other handmaidens following close behind. Their quiet chatter quickly turned into a flurry of excited voices. Anakin figured they must have had the efficiency of a podracer’s pit crew, because less than two minutes later, Padmé emerged completely bare-faced and dressed in one of the handmaidens' uniforms. Sabé emerged behind her looking every bit the part of the Queen—complete with the elaborate headdress, painted face, and resplendent ceremonial gown.
Anakin stared. He looked at Korkie. Korkie looked at him.
"How'd they do that so fast?" Anakin whispered.
"I don't know," Korkie whispered back, clearly impressed.
Neither boy cared to investigate. Padmé hurried over to join them, looking considerably more relaxed now that she was free of the weight of the crown. Behind them, the "Queen" and the handmaidens seamlessly rejoined the royal entourage, continuing along as though nothing at all had changed. To anyone watching from a distance, the Queen of Naboo had never left the procession. To Anakin, however, it looked like the best part of the celebration had just begun.
The three children ran off to enjoy the festivities, while Sabé, having clearly had enough time in her role as the Queen's double, immediately began directing the royal entourage away from them.
Qui-Gon, however, remained behind with the Duchess and the Prince.
"I've requested an audience with the Council," he said, looking directly at Obi-Wan. "I want them to finish their deliberations regarding Anakin's acceptance. They never gave an outright refusal. I think perhaps we can still push the needle."
Obi-Wan felt suddenly and distinctly put on the spot.
"I—" He glanced between Qui-Gon and Satine. "Did you say we? You mean you want me to speak to the Council?"
Qui-Gon nodded.
"Indeed. You've spent time with the boy, and you know and respect the Jedi Code better than I do. More importantly, you're an outside party. You can vouch for Anakin without the Council dismissing your judgment as simply my own."
Obi-Wan stared at him for a moment. Of all the things he'd expected Qui-Gon to ask of him today, this hadn't been one of them. A small, unexpected warmth settled in his chest. His former Master respected his judgment enough to ask for his help. More than that, Qui-Gon had just admitted that he knew the Code well; perhaps better than Obi-Wan gave himself credit for.
"What do you want me to say?"
"That you don't think Anakin is a liability."
Obi-Wan blinked.
Of all the arguments Qui-Gon could have asked him to make, that seemed almost insultingly simple.
"You want me to tell the Council he's not a liability for you?"
"I want you to tell them what you actually believe."
Obi-Wan glanced toward the street where the children had disappeared, the distant sound of music and cheering drifting back toward them.
He thought of Anakin as he'd first seen him: filthy, exhausted, and suspicious of nearly everyone around him. He thought of the boy's seemingly impossible stories he told on the flight about podracing and building droids, the way his face lit up whenever he was allowed to explain something he knew, and the way he had attached himself to Qui-Gon with an almost startling amount of trust.
He also thought of last night.
Anakin had been terrified when Qui-Gon left him at the palace. He had tried very hard not to show it, but Obi-Wan and Satine had noticed. By morning, he'd been sitting at the breakfast table with Korkie, arguing over which of them could run faster through the palace corridors. Satine had gently chided them about being a couple of Banthas in a stampede. Anakin had laughed.
He certainly wasn't a “liability”. Not to Obi-Wan, anyway. Yes the boy would have lingering fears and emotions his whole life, but he was also so clearly full of light and love. If he was truly the fated Chosen One, then there was no doubt in his mind that Anakin Skywalker would be on the side of the Jedi.
"I'm not sure the Council will care what I think."
"They might care that you are no longer a member of the Order."
Obi-Wan looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
Qui-Gon continued, "You're close enough to the Jedi to understand their concerns, but far enough removed that they can't simply assume you're defending my judgment."
A faint grimace reached the corners of Obi-Wan's mouth.
"So I'm useful precisely because I've abandoned you."
Qui-Gon's pursed his lips and his fingers played with the singed edges of the hole in his robes, gently brushing against the armor underneath, "I wouldn't put it quite that way."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Obi-Wan's expression became more thoughtful.
"You really believe they'll change their minds?"
"I believe they haven't made up their minds yet."
That was a distinction Obi-Wan understood.
Qui-Gon had always been stubbornly hopeful in that way. Where other people saw a closed door, he tended to test that it hadn't been locked yet.
Obi-Wan sighed.
"And if they ask me whether I think Anakin is ready?"
"Tell them the truth."
"Which is?"
Qui-Gon gave him a vague look. "That you don't know."
Obi-Wan’s eyebrows furrowed. "That hardly sounds like a compelling argument."
"You don't need to convince them that Anakin is already a perfect Jedi. You only need to convince them that he deserves the chance to become one."
Obi-Wan considered that.
It was, annoyingly, a very Qui-Gon argument.
He looked toward the direction Anakin had gone again.
"I suppose I can do that."
Qui-Gon nodded.
"I knew you would."
That warmth returned to Obi-Wan's chest, stronger this time. He tried not to let himself dwell on how good it felt to hear those words from Qui-Gon again.
"Well, I'll need some time to prepare my statement—"
"Can you have it prepared in the next—say—half-hour?"
"What?!"
Obi-Wan stared at him, mouth agape, Qui-Gon looked entirely unbothered.
"Half an hour?!"
"I thought that was reasonable."
"Qui-Gon, I haven't even decided what I'm going to say!"
"You'll think of something."
"I'd like to think of something good."
Qui-Gon gave him a faintly amused look, "I have every confidence in you."
Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then stopped. That was almost worse.
"You cannot possibly expect me to walk into a Council chamber and improvise an argument for why the Jedi should accept a nine-year-old they have already rejected."
"I expect you to tell them what you've already told me."
"And what exactly is that?"
"That Anakin isn't a liability."
Obi-Wan stared at him blankly.
"That is not a statement."
"It's a starting point."
"It's a rather short one."
Qui-Gon shrugged, "You have thirty minutes."
Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.
"Stars, I had forgotten how infuriating you are."
Qui-Gon's smile widened.
"You've missed me."
"I absolutely have not."