Chapter Text
10.1.7945
Anakin Skywalker darted down the hallway as fast as his feet would carry him. He was supposed to be in class right now, in literature class, his Master said it was important - but he couldn’t read Basic. That was important for a class like that, and he couldn’t let his Master know about his deficiencies, so he slipped away from class and hurried off to find somewhere he could attempt to puzzle out written Basic.
He was making his way towards the Archives, where he hoped to find children’s books that would be easy enough to figure out, but it was more conspicuous than he’d like. There were so many Masters in the Temple, even if they were far nicer than most. They were still Masters, and it made Anakin wary of them.
When he entered the Archives themselves, he finally slowed down. It was a quiet place, the Archives, and they were full of so much knowledge. It made Anakin feel reverent, knowing that so many books filled these shelves.
When his Master had taken him around the Temple last week, trying to help him get settled in, he’d said that the Archives were under the purview of Madame Jocasta Nu. Madame Nu. Not Master Nu.
Knowing that the person in charge of the Archives could make even the Masters quail made Anakin feel safe among these walls of books. He began to slowly walk deeper into them when he heard voices - young ones, laughing.
“Don’t be silly, Kuya, that’s a shen, not a jenth!”
“Nuh-uh! It’s a jenth!”
“Maybe it’s a cherek.”
“No way, Twyla!”
“Children, children, please!” Madame Nu’s voice interrupted the chatter, a hint of laughter spiked through it, “Kuya was right, Vorite, it’s a jenth. You can see that it’s missing the two dots that denote it as a shen, and it has a jenth’s distinctive upper swoop.”
“Ha!” a young voice rang out as Anakin crept closer. He peaked around a bookshelf and - oh.
There was a little alcove tucked away, with a projector screen on the far wall and piled with cushions and soft chairs. It looked cozy, with shorter shelves filled with children’s books. And in it, Madame Nu was hosting a lesson on letters for a group of six little Jedi initiates.
Anakin drew a deep, shuddering breath. That was where he needed to be! There, in that class! But… he was too old, wasn’t he? He’d have to wait until they were done. Maybe he could just watch them from here?
Yes… he could just watch them from here.
Mind made up, Anakin quietly settled himself on the floor and took out his class things. His Master had said that taking physical notes on flimsi was the best way to learn, so he got out a pen and a flimsi notebook. Maybe he could learn his letters by trying to draw them. Maybe this would work, and the Masters would never realize that he was defective and deficient. They hadn’t wanted him anyway, and it terrified him that they might kick him out. Where would he go?
“Now, younglings, does everyone remember what letter their name starts with?” Madame Nu was talking to the class again. Even though he wasn’t a part of it, Anakin slowly shook his head, his cheeks coloring. He didn’t know what letter his name started with.
“Vev! Vev! Vev is for Vorite!” An excitable zygerrian Anakin didn’t recognise bounced on her feet. He shuddered, but no - she was younger than he was, and answered to the Masters too.
“Very good, Vorite, but why don’t you let someone else answer too?” Madame Nu smiled at the bouncing girl.
“O-kay,” Vorite huffed in a put-upon manner before slumping back into her cushion-chair.
“Trill is for Twyla,” a human girl spoke up.
“Besh is for Barriss,” a mirialan girl added.
“Peth is for Phidar,” a human boy nodded along to the lesson.
“Krill is for Kuya,” a put-out looking twi’lek boy huffed.
The final member of the group, a togruta girl, spoke hers so softly that Anakin couldn’t hear her. Evidently, though, what she said was correct, as Madame Nu said, “Very good, all of you! Now, let’s go back to testing your recognition. What letter is this?” She pressed a button on the little remote in her hand. Anakin flinched, and the projector changed to show a different letter.
“Nern!” Vorite bounced to her feet again, “Nern for Nu! Madame Nu!”
Anakin scrambled to try and draw the letter while Madame Nu scolded Vorite for always answering before anyone else had a chance.
They continued to play recognise-the-letter for a while, with Anakin diligently watching, until Madame Nu said, “Now we’re going to recite the Aurebesh, and then you may play quietly until Créche Master Haykar comes to pick you up, alright?”
The younglings happily agreed, and then began to recite their letters, while Anakin desperately tried to follow along.
The togruta girl, the one Anakin didn’t know the name of, seemed to be having some difficulty too.
“Aurek, besh, cresh, cherek, dorn, esk, enth, onith, forn, grek, herf, isk, jenth, krill, krenth, leth, mern, nern, nen, osk, orenth, peth, qek, resh, senth, shen, trill, thesh, usk, vev, weak, xesh, yurt, zerek!” they chanted.
“Very good!” Madame Nu praised them, “Now you may play quietly until Créche Master Haykar picks you up. Don’t disturb anyone, alright?”
“Yes Madame Nu,” they chorused and then began to play. Madame Nu smiled and began to exit the alcove, presumably to find this Master Haykar.
Anakin, realizing that Madame Nu would soon see him if he didn’t move, scrambled to pack up his things and get out of there.
Once he was safely back out in the halls, Anakin couldn’t help but smile. He’d found a way - he was learning how to read.
10.5.7945
Jocasta Nu was an intelligent and highly observant woman. She had to be, in order to run the Archives. And maybe it was below her paygrade, but she loved teaching the younglings to read. There was a reason she made time for it, always. This year, and next year as well, and perhaps the year after that, the students learning to read from her were the younglings of Fyrnock Clan, who were sweet kids. Really they were.
But someone was spying on them for whatever reason, and she would not allow them to come to any harm.
The spy came during their reading lessons, and stayed just out of sight. Their wobbly shields told her that the spy was likely a Padawan, but beyond that she was unsure. Likely their mysterious Padawan visitor was planning to do harm to the children in her care. She couldn’t think of another reason for them to be watching all week long.
Yes, it had been a full week since their spy first appeared. Or, well, almost a full week. It was Benduday, and the unwelcome observer had first appeared on Primeday.
Again, today, the class settled down to learn, and again, their unseen enemy appeared.
She would not let this go on any longer.
“Excuse me for a moment, children,” she said, and stepped out of the alcove, making a beeline to where she sensed the intruding presence. She felt it give a spike of panic, and heard the rustling of paper as she rounded the corner and found a young Padawan - human, male - in the process of trying to scramble away from her, notebook dropped in the process.
“Young man, just what do you think you’re doing?” she asked, and the boy froze, Force presence suffused with far more panic than she expected even as he hurried to school his features and face her.
“Does your Master know you’re here?” she asked, and the Padawan’s panic spiked higher still, and his face shifted to show it.
“What are you planning, Padawan?” She snapped, trying to determine exactly what she would tell this Padawan’s Master… once she placed him.
“I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” the Padawan was taking small steps back away from her, and behind his acute panic - was that terror? Surely she was getting things mixed up, wasn’t she?
The Padawan’s eyes kept darting to the abandoned notebook by her feet. Ah, was that where his plans were? She swooped down to pick up the offending item, ignoring the noise of distress the Padawan let out, only to freeze when she saw what was on the page.
There were just… letters. Random letters, even, not particularly well drawn, and the names of her students written once, clumsily, in shaky and childish handwriting.
Oh. Now she recognised the Padawan.
This was Padawan Anakin Skywalker, who had been let into the order late for reasons that Jocasta herself did not quite understand. Probably because no-one had told her the reasons.
Clutching the notebook tightly now, so tightly the page on top wrinkled beneath her fingers, she spoke far more softly now. “Padawan Skywalker?”
“Y-yes?” the boy was close to trembling, it seemed, and, if what Jocasta suspected was true, she was a little upset with herself for adding to his troubles.
“Padawan Skywalker, can you read?”
“I can read!” he yelped, indignant. “I can read Huttese and Bocce!”
“Can you read Basic, Padawan Skywalker?” she asked carefully.
Padawan Skywalker flushed, and his posture seemed to collapse in on itself. “I… I…”
Well then. That was… unfortunate. But she knew how to fix this.
“Come along then, Anakin,” she reached out towards him, suppressing a wince when she saw him flinch, “Come and join the rest of the class.”
Anakin’s face slackened before slowly, slowly lighting up from the inside. “R-really? I’m not- not too old? Too- too bad?”
“Of course not,” Jocasta didn’t ask who had told him he was too old. She knew that. But her insides roiled that they’d allowed him to believe that he was too bad.
Anakin’s eyes widened, and he slowly, carefully, reached to take her hand. She smiled.
Carefully, carefully, now wishing not to spook the nervous young Padawan, she turned and led him into the alcove. The younglings there were looking at him with curious gazes, each of a slightly different measure of nervousness.
“Who’s this, Madame Nu?” Barriss spoke first, thankfully. Her voice and demeanor was unlikely to spook Anakin.
“This is your new classmate, younglings,” she smiled. “Anakin? Why don’t you take a seat?”
Anakin nodded, and slowly, slowly let go of her hand before drifting into a cushion-chair. It was like he couldn’t believe this was real, and Jocasta’s heart clenched in sorrow. No child should look so disbelieving at a chance to learn.
“Younglings? Why don’t you introduce yourselves to your new classmate?”
“Hi! I’m Vorite! It’s nice to meet you!” Vorite moved into Anakin’s space, bouncing on her heels. Jocasta internally winced, afraid that this would cause Anakin to withdraw more, and for a moment that seemed to be the case, but then he seemed to relax.
“Hi, Vorite. My name’s Anakin Skywalker,” he smiled then, the first smile Jocasta had seen him give, and she resolved right then and there that she would make certain that Anakin would smile more often from then on if she had anything to say about it.
“My name is Barriss Offee,” Barriss stayed on her chair, which was likely easier, considering, “And the girl curled into my side is Ahsoka Tano.”
“I’m Kuya,” the twi’lek boy volunteered quietly.
“‘M Phidar Taryoe!” Phidar smiled when introducing himself.
“My name is Twyla Sompen,” Twyla moved closer to Anakin, though not as close as Vorite had. “Do I… know you?”
“I don’t think so,” Anakin turned towards her, “But I’d like to get to know you, if you’re okay with that.”
Twyla smiled and nodded, shining happily in the force. A moment later, Anakin was smiling back at her.
Good. This was all very good. However, it was now time to get back to class.
“Alright younglings,” she got their attention, all seven of them, as she began to teach again, “Yesterday we started working on being able to spell your names. Let’s continue that today, alright?”
There was a chorus of agreement, and Anakin nodded respectfully.
He seemed so good and kind. Jocasta would enjoy teaching him, she could already tell.
By the end of the lesson, her students were all capable of spelling their given names, although the ones with surnames were still having trouble with those. Additionally, at one point, Ahsoka had decided to migrate from being curled into Barriss’s side to being curled into Anakin’s side. It was quite sweet, truly.
“Anakin?” she asked, “Can you spell your name again for the class?”
Anakin nodded, some of his earlier apprehension replaced by an eager determination, and began to spell.
“Aurek-norn-aurek-krill-isk-norn,” Anakin stated confidently.
“It’s pronounced nern, but yes,” Jocasta smiled at her eldest student, cataloging the way he beamed so brilliantly at his achievement. The way he gleamed in the Force.
She swore she would do whatever it took to keep that light from fading.
