Chapter Text
Anakin Skywalker blinked twice when he spotted his reflection in the clear blue water of the Naboo river as he walked along its banks. For one perfect moment he had forgotten that he was still in the body of young Obi-Wan, lost in the familiarity and warmth of the beautiful planet. But as he stared down into his Master’s youthful face, reality hit him like a tonne of duracrete. This wasn’t his Naboo, and the person that made this place feel like home wouldn’t know or love him.
The thought yanked at Anakin’s heart and made him feel more alone and homesick than he had since arriving. He tugged at the loose weave fabric of the dark poncho he had traded little Obi-Wan’s cloak for, wondering if this was a mistake. Maybe he should just drag himself back to the Temple, own up to this timeline’s Yoda, and see if the Jedi could find a way to send him home. That’s what Obi-Wan would have done.
Anakin kicked at some loose rock, sending it flying into the water, disturbing the reflection that was wearing an all-to-familiar worried frown. It might be easier than the path he had chosen, but heading back to the Temple now was probably futile. Even if the Jedi of this time believed him (and assuming they could work past the fact he had stolen and sold their ship), there was no way they would help him save his mother or change the fate of Obi-Wan and the galaxy. Dreams pass in time, after all.
Looking away from the river, he realised that his feet had carried him to the gates of Theed. He entered, taking the time to appreciate the architecture of the stone buildings that towered over him, as he headed towards its centre, where the Palace was.
Anakin wasn’t exactly sure where to find Palpatine, but he suspected the man would have an office somewhere. Padme had told him that the Chancellor had been in politics on Naboo for a long time before becoming a senator, so it stood to reason that he would be planetside. He just had to find out exactly where.
Glancing around, Anakin wondered whether he should ask someone for help. The people here were friendly and would no doubt do their best to guide him. But, after receiving a few suspicious looks he decided it was best that he didn’t draw attention to himself. As a teenage Obi-Wan he was vulnerable. Not just because of his age but because he - Anakin - still wasn’t used to Obi-Wan’s height, weight or Force connection and didn’t entirely trust that he could win a fight.
Suddenly wishing he had a hood to hide under, Anakin ducked his head and avoided eye contact with others as he moved along the cobblestone streets. He didn’t like feeling powerless. It took him back to the darkest days of his childhood. Or even his adulthood- when his Mom…
He shook his head and breathed out, suddenly grateful for the ease at which Obi-Wan could let go. Although, he did wish that the quieting of his mind didn’t result in the returning awareness of the strange feeling twisting in his gut. “It’s not a bad feeling,” Anakin repeated under his breath, despite the fact that it was not a good feeling. Despite the fact that it had only continued to grow in strength since he had made the decision to come here. Even still now as he approached his planned destination.
Anakin wasn’t brave enough to look into the unifying Force again and see what he might find. He had attempted to do so on the journey and had been faced with his own, well, little Obi-Wan’s, death. The vision had crushed him, twice. First when he thought it was his Obi-Wan, and second when he realised it was him. Worse, he had spent the rest of the trip wondering how many times his Master had followed the threads of the future to awful ends. Wondering how many of their friends his Master had seen dead before they had actually passed. Wondering how many times his Master had looked into the future and seen him, Anakin, lifeless, lost.
“Explains why he worries so damn much,” he muttered to himself, feeling a little guilty for not taking a bit more care over the years. He made a mental note to try and be better, slower, kinder when they met up again… If they met up again.
Finding a sheltered spot at the end of an alley, he took a moment to take in the sights and sounds of the avenue that led to the Palace.The ten-day market was in full swing. It was alive and buzzing with activity and noise. The people of Naboo walked between the wooden stalls chatting away merrily. Children ran through the crowd laughing and using large rings to create bright, glittery bubbles that filled the sky. A band was playing music on a makeshift stage nearby, the notes ringing out pleasantly through the hum of the chatter. It was beautiful. More beautiful, he thought, than he’d ever known it to be because there was a feeling of safety, of peace , that he’d never sensed here before. For a moment he let himself float in it. After years of war, the serenity and warmth was so very welcome. But it didn’t last.
The strange foreboding feeling began to change and urgency crept along his skin. He scanned the crowd searching for something to explain the new feelings, and startled upon finding it. Warmth drained from his being as confusion and horror overwhelmed him.
Anakin closed his eyes, shook his head and opened them again, but it wasn’t a dream or vision. He was honestly watching a familiar, albeit younger , red and black Zebrak glide through the crowd.
Under his breath, words slipped from his mouth, voicing his thoughts. “What is Maul doing here… now?”
Obi-Wan, who was still seeing out the days in the body of his young Padawan, was taken completely by surprise when Padme, Qui-Gon and JarJar walked into Watto’s shop. Clearly he had become so caught up in the machinations of his rebellion that he had lost track of time - or perhaps he had never really thought he would be here long enough to reach this point. Regardless, finding himself looking into the face of his long dead Master had made his heart still for a moment.
Thankfully, Qui-Gon was too involved with his problem to notice and had hurried off with the Toydarian salesman into the yard, leaving him with the disguised queen and the clumsy Gungan.
“He looks rather imposing but he is actually kind,” Padme told him gently.
Obi-Wan blinked. At first he was surprised by her insight, then he realised that he had given himself away by continuing to stare at the doorway that Qui-Gon had left through. Shaking his head, he turned to face her. “He just reminded me of someone,” he explained quietly, studying the woman. He had always been impressed by Padme Amidala, but he never had really thought about how much gall she had, coming here. Maybe it was because he now knew just how dangerous this planet was, or perhaps it was just the different perspective. Either way, the realisation of the extent of her courage led to another sudden thought.
The uprising was only a few days away. He had only yesterday put out a message to the various groups around the city with the order to be prepared. At his end everything was ready, and he knew they had a good chance of gaining the rights and freedom they were after. But, two leaders from a large gang that had joined them at the last minute, a large gang of battle-trained beings who would no doubt ensure their victory, was demanding to meet Cerasi, their leader.
Unbeknownst to them, - to everyone involved - there was no Cerasi. He was Cerasi. He had made her up because he knew the slaves and good people of Tatooine would not place their faith in a child. He’d used the rumour mill to build the peoples faith in her, then sent “her” instructions through the children of the city to those who he had learned were leaders. He hadn’t expected the lie to hold up this long. It wouldn’t have, if not for the lies of others. Early on an old matriarch from the slave quarter claimed she had raised Cerasi, and not long after a popular young woman told everyone who would listen that they were the closest of friends. Then, one of the powerful, dangerous spice runners told everyone that he had loved her, and suddenly there was no question of her existence. At least, not until this latest request… Of course, afterwards was always going to be problematic for Obi-Wan, when all was said and done and she wasn’t there. But…
“Sometimes the solution presents itself,” Obi-Wan muttered under his breath.
Padme frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
Obi-Wan decided to follow the impulse.“I think we might be able to help each other.”
She tilted her head, her long braids shifting with the movement. “How?”
“Your friend isn’t going to get very far. No one accepts credits here,” he replied, making her frown deepen. “But I think I could help you, if you are willing to help me.”
Padme stared at him warily for a few seconds, then looked out the door that led into the scrap yard where Qui-Gon was. “My friend will not be pleased if I agree to anything in his absence.”
Obi-Wan knew that, but he also knew his old Master would be difficult to convince and that having Padme’s promise would tie the Jedi’s hands. “I’m trying to help the- my people,” he implored. He felt guilty for exploiting her current weakness, but it was the truth, and even though he didn’t have a feeling in his stomach to tell him one way or another, the Force seemed to approve of this course of action.
Pain flickered in the eyes of the disguised queen and her fingers curled into fists. “What would we have to do?”
“I- I can’t talk about it here.” He glanced back hesitantly then he looked back at her. “It will be dangerous- I won’t lie about that. But I can guarantee you a way off Tatooine. If you agree…”
Wisely, Padme did not answer straight away. She studied him with a small frown on her lips until a large crash interrupted them and he had to run over and save JarJar from a droid he had accidentally activated.
“Maybe don’t touch anything, my Master will use any excuse to get your money.”
“You’re a slave?” Padme yelped suddenly, making him turn away from the Gungan.
“I’m a person. My name is Anakin.” he flung back, probably more harshly than necessary. He understood now why Anakin had said this exact line to the other younglings at the Temple over and over. Being a slave did not define who he was.
“I’m sorry. I-”
“Haven’t seen this side of the galaxy,” he finished quietly. “I understand.”
As he expected, Padme was hurt by his conclusion and his understanding. In his true timeline, she had admitted to him once that her time on Tatooine had opened her eyes to her own naivety about the power and reach of the Republic. And he had just taken advantage, using that insight against her, as he would in a tactical negotiation. Guilt flooded him, she was a child herself…
“Your people… You said you were trying to help your people. Are they slaves too?” She asked quietly, making the connection he had led her to.
“Yes,” he stated. He remained silent, giving her space to make her choice. They held each other’s gazes for a moment before she gave a small nod.
“Alright, if Qui-Gon comes back and he hasn’t managed to get us a hyperdrive, then we have a deal.”