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Chapter Text

Anakin Skywalker idly picked at the lint on his robes, listening to perhaps every fifth or sixth word that came tumbling out of his master’s mouth. He loathed his master’s long-winded speeches about the ‘living Force’ and how he needed to give himself to it unconditionally.

He was kind of excited to be on a mission for the first time since he’d been part of the group that saved Naboo from the Trade Federation, but… the mission itself didn’t seem very fun - nor was his Master letting him enjoy even the smallest part of it with his… being his usual self.

“Anakin, are you listening to me?” his Master interjected, prodding him through their training bond. Anakin startled at the sudden presence on the periphery of his mind, blinked and looked up at the older man’s frown.

“Yes, Master,” Anakin muttered, abashed.

“Anakin,” his Master replied, shaking his head. “You need to focus. Today is very important. It will be the greatest lesson I can give you as a Jedi Master. You must learn to open your mind to the possibilities of the Force and look beyond what you see with just your eyes.”

Anakin sighed and looked away from his master, once more tugging on the sleeve of his Jedi robes. He’d been made to wear the robes that were typically reserved for members of the Diplomatic Corps for formal affairs. Long, hanging sleeves and four layers of fabrics, he was practically swimming in the uncomfortable, heavy, itchy thing.

His first ever mission and it wasn’t even a good one. His ‘friend’ Ki’tan had recently been chosen as Master Damar’s padawan, and they had gone off to rescue some senator’s granddaughter from pirates. Anakin, meanwhile, had been sent with his master to some boring useless diplomatic conference on Bothawui, of all places.

Five years of being stuck in the Temple, and he finally gets to go somewhere that isn’t Coruscant, and he ends up doing this. So unfair!

When his master had finally landed the ship, Anakin followed behind him trying to look the most like a Jedi. He still didn’t quite understand what this mission was even for.

“Master,” Anakin said. “Why are we even here? I looked at the briefing the Council presented us. This is just a trade conference between a bunch of mid and outer rim planets! None of these worlds have any standing disputes with each other… I don’t see why we’d be needed. We’re not part of the Diplomatic Corps?”

“You must learn to trust in the Force, Anakin,” Master Qui-Gon said in his usual self-satisfied way. “It is the will of the Force that we be here, regardless of if this is the usual place which requires Jedi assistance or not. The Council wishes for us to ensure that these proceedings go on without incident, and that is what we shall do.”

“I just don’t get it,” Anakin murmured.

“Trust in the Force,” Qui-Gon said again. “Trust in the Council, and in your master.”

“Yes, master,” Anakin muttered, scowling.

After his master was greeted by one of the Bothans, they were escorted to one of the large rotunda conference rooms in the building where all the negotiations were being held. Anakin sighed at the sight of at least a hundred different politicians – this was his life now. Preening before a bunch of idiots like he was some slave-of-a-Hutt on display for outlanders to see.

“Now, Anakin,” Qui-Gon said as they stood on the far side of the room. “There are some very important facts about the Force and the way it interacts with people that I want you to understand. The Living Force, such as it is, is remarkable at allowing a capable Jedi to passively understand the intent, mood and thoughts of an individual…”

Anakin was half-listening at this point. Qui-Gon’s explanations about the miracles of the living Force were so stupid, as half the time those “mystical abilities” Qui-Gon said he should have barely manifested, or if they did, they caused him severe headaches. Not that Master Qui-Gon cared about that.

While Anakin ignored his master’s ramblings, he noticed the doors to the rotunda opening and two delegations entering the room. His heart skipped a beat when he caught the sight of a familiar face - Queen Amidala had entered the room with her entourage of security and a couple of handmaidens.

Well, actually, it was “Queen Amidala”. Anakin could tell right away that the current Queen Amidala was actually just one of the handmaidens whose name had long escaped him. The real Queen Amidala - Padmé, was standing with the group instead in disguise. He made to move over towards the Naboo delegation which was in the middle of a meet-and-greet with some representatives from… Savareen, he thought? Their style of dress and their markings looked about right, anyway.

However, a firm hand clamped on his shoulder, and he found himself being glared at by Master Qui-Gon.

“Anakin,” he said warningly.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Anakin protested.

“Your thoughts betray you, my padawan. Mind your emotional attachments; they are the tools of mortals, not one with greater purpose, like you.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said irritably, scowling and looking away.

“I want you to try the method I was just describing. Move around the crowds, try your best to feel the feelings of those you see, feel their thoughts. See their intent,” Qui-Gon instructed with a sniff. “I shall be watching.”

Anakin bowed his head silently, and slowly moved away from Qui-Gon and into the crowds. He’d curse his master out in his head, but he thought Qui-Gon might hear him. He was never sure when his master was or was not listening in on his thoughts. He had shields, but even Master Yoda had chided him once on them being very thin and weak compared to others his age.

Anakin wasn’t sure if it was five minutes or an hour which passed before he finally decided he was absolutely bored with passively reading these bloated politicians. Nearly all of them felt the same way - concerned only with themselves and nobody else. The fact that there were even Hutts in the negotiations today made his skin crawl and stomach churn in a way he never told anyone - not even Ki’tan.

Sighing, he glanced around the room and spotted the Naboo delegation - this time they looked to be relatively alone, with “Queen Amidala”, such as she was, standing there looking incredibly bored - or constipated, if he was honest. Royals were always kinda like that when they were at state functions.

Slipping around a group of Bothans who were engaged in an exciting recount of something completely asinine and dumb with some Twi’lek delegates, Anakin made his way over to the Naboo. Of course, observing royal courtesy, he first approached “the Queen”.

“Your Majesty,” Anakin greeted smoothly, bowing in the way he’d learned in his stupid diplomatic etiquette classes. Bend at the waist, tucking one arm into his mid-section and extending the other. “It is a pleasure to see you again after so long.”

He looked up to see the Queen with a slightly amused look on her face. “Anakin Skywalker,” she said, clearly fighting down a smile. “It has been far too long, indeed. Five years, I believe?”

“Five years, Your Majesty,” Anakin confirmed with a nod of his head. “I hope things have been going well for you and the Naboo since our victory at Theed.”

“They have been,” the Queen confirmed. “Our people cannot thank you enough for your help - are you here alone, Anakin?”

“Ah, no,” Anakin said bashfully. “I am here with Master Qui-Gon. He is… actually, I’m not sure where he is. He was over by the punch bowl; perhaps he’s found himself someone to… entertain with his thoughts about the Living Force.”

“Our negotiations with our partners in peace have wrapped up for the day,” Amidala said thoughtfully. “Perhaps you could join my retinue in our private suite to catch up? We wish to hear all about your exploits as a Jedi.”

“If you’ll have me, I would be honored,” Anakin said, bowing shallowly.

Anakin ended up following behind the “Queen” and her entourage, slipping out of the large rotunda.

…

The Naboo private suite ended up being in the west wing of the building. Nearly as soon as they’d gotten into the room, “the Queen” had dropped her formal persona, slouching down and making a noise of disgust.

“Padmé, I love you more than life itself, but I really cannot keep doing this,” she complained. “Can someone please get this death trap off my bloody head?”

“Sabé,” Padmé said, using her own Amidala voice. “Your commitment to your duty and service to your sovereign is much appreciated.”

Her serious countenance lasted but a mere second before she dissolved into a fit of giggles, coming over to start helping unwrap Sabé’s hair from around the intricate headpiece.

“I’m sorry, Anakin,” Sabé said, glancing back at him with a grin. “We’ll get to talking about how you’ve been as soon as I’m out of this bloody frock.”

“It’s alright,” Anakin said, rocking on his feet. “I hate formal robes too.”

He watched as Padmé continued to help Sabé out of the intricate Amidala headpiece. The other handmaiden, not that Anakin quite remembered her name - they’d barely spoken five years ago and it had been quite a long time – had gone off to do something else.

Once the headpiece came off and was promptly discarded on the far-side of the couch, Padmé disappeared into an adjoining room while Sabé turned to look at Anakin, massaging the top of her head. “You don’t have to wear those awful robes either, Anakin,” she said, before making a noise. “Goddess, how many layers’ve you got on? Just as many as I do, maybe?”

“Four layers,” Anakin said with a sigh, scowling at the obi tied around his waist. “It’s all part of the standard formal robes for Jedi diplomats. They’re supposed to represent our neutrality in galactic affairs and our connection to the Force. I actually fucking hate it.”

“You don’t have to wear those here,” Padmé provided helpfully, emerging from the adjoining room with a bundle of clothes which she promptly handed to Sabé who disappeared into another room– Anakin figured it was probably the fresher. “I promise I won’t tell Master Jinn.”

Anakin didn’t need to be told twice, shedding most of his robes, leaving him in just the light innermost robes and hakama. It wasn’t the most uncomfortable ensemble in all creation, but the part of him that didn’t like to stand out of place was certainly having issues. The Jedi were always a bit… weird in the way they dressed, and stood out of nearly any situation like sore thumbs.

“Are you hungry, Ani? Have you eaten?” Padmé asked curiously, once he’d discarded his outermost robes. “I’ve got some protein bars…”

Anakin graciously accepted a fruit-flavored protein bar from Padmé and sat down on the couch in the middle of the room, nibbling on it thoughtfully. Eventually, the other two girls showed up - Sabé now looking like a person and not ‘the Queen’, and the third one. She hadn’t said anything thus far, but she seemed nice?

“So, Ani,” Padmé said, patting his leg. “Tell us about what you’ve been up to since you went off with the Jedi. I can only imagine the incredible adventures you’ve gotten up to.”

“Um, well, I guess I haven’t gotten up to many adventures,” Anakin said, blushing slightly under the gaze of all the girls. “This is the first mission they’ve let me go on.”

“Stick up the arse Jedi,” Sabé grumbled, throwing her head back and massaging the bridge of her nose. “Just like the bloody vedics.”

“Well - is the Temple at least nice?” Padmé said. “I’ve heard stories about how big it is, and about their room of.. what is it, hundred fountains?”

“Room of One-Thousand Fountains,” the third girl provided helpfully, though quietly.

“That’s the one,” Padmé said with a clap, before turning to Anakin. “Cordé is always a bit shy. But don’t let that fool you, she’s a crack shot with a blaster. Nobody in the security forces can beat her on the range.”

“Wizard,” Anakin said, flashing Cordé a grin, which the other girl returned in kind. “What kinds of blasters do you have? Master Qui-Gon never lets me touch the things, but I’ve snuck away a few times to go try the shooting range with Master Windu.”

“Um - well, I have quite a few, actually,” Cordé replied, flashing Anakin a nervous smile.

“Quite a few - she has an entire collection of vintage blasters. It’s her favorite hobby,” Padmé said with a giggle. “Anyway - the thousand fountains room?”

“Oh, yes, um, well, it’s beautiful - I go there sometimes to meditate when Master Qui-Gon is being a big jerk. I mean, I guess it’s fine. Coruscant’s really cold, and the food at the Temple refectory is bland and tastes like the kind of paste they give the younglings as materials for art classes. Um, Master Qui-Gon took me to Ilum last year and got me the kyber crystal I needed to build this—”

Anakin’s hand went down to his waist and he unclipped his lightsaber, showing it off to the girls, and lighting the saber so they could see the bright blue plasma glow.

“Wow,” Sabé said with a whistle. “You never get used to seeing these things in person.”

“Right?” Anakin said, turning it off and returning it to his hip. “I have one now but it’s like… this completely wizard thing. I’m still learning how to use it properly, but Master Tiin says I have promise.”

“That’s good,” Padmé said encouragingly, smiling all the while. “Oh, how’s your Mom?” she asked curiously.

Anakin’s smile disappeared, and he looked down at his feet. “Um… I don’t know. As far as I know, Mom’s still on Tatooine. Master Qui-Gon- well, he said I had to learn to let go of my emotional attachments if I was gonna be the Chosen One who brings balance to the galaxy.”

“Chosen One?” Sabé asked, sitting up rather suddenly. “What sort of nonsense is that? What’s more important than making sure a kid’s got his mum around?”

“I mean, I’m not the only Jedi who can’t see their Mom. It’s just - all the other Jedi I’ve met, they all were taken from their parents real young, so they don’t remember their parents. But.. I can’t just forget Mom. That’s dumb.”

“Right!” Padmé said, scoffing. “What an outrage! Yet, we’re just as guilty of such wanton neglect!”

“Pads?” Sabé asked, curiously.

“Anakin saved our planet from the droids with his heroism and we repaid him by leaving his mother to rot in slavery! Goddess above, I’m ashamed of myself.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed! I- I could’ve gone back to save her at any time! I’m the one who should feel bad. Master Qui-Gon just - he wouldn’t let me do it!” Anakin protested.

“Anakin, love, you’re nearly fourteen. You can’t be expected to save everyone when you’re not even old enough to drink,” Sabé said, leaning forward. “Your Master sounds like a right foul git, though.”

Anakin laughed, playing with his padawan braid. “I don’t disagree. I mean - he means well enough, I guess? But he treats me more like a thing than a person; just like every other master. To him, I’m just kind of this abstraction of a prophecy. He insists I follow a lifestyle as close to the Force as I can. I’m not allowed to have a bunch of personal possessions, have emotional attachments to people or things, or do anything other than learn to hone my mind and body to one cause. He’s an asshole.”

He sighed.

“Honestly, I’ve been… thinking about how much I actually still want to be a Jedi these days. Master Qui-Gon is so insufferable to deal with, and ever since Obi-Wan left the Order, I’ve been wondering if this was ever what I should have been doing from the start. I’d miss some people, but… I don’t know.”

“You have plenty of time to make a decision, Ani,” Padmé said reassuringly. “You’re… goodness, almost fourteen? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be Queen when I was fourteen, but sometimes there’s just this part of you that wants to live up to greater ideals. That being said, I’m concerned that Master Jinn is not being supportive enough to your mental health, and I’m concerned that we may need to do something to make sure your Mother is safe.”

“If we are going to help Anakin free his mother, we’re going to need a plan that doesn’t involve storming off to Tatooine and causing an intergalactic incident,” Sabé said idly, standing up and moving over to the kitchenette. “Tatooine is… a Hutt planet, isn’t it?”

“Sort of,” Anakin replied. “It’s technically a Republic world, but Jabba the Hutt sort of controls the planet with his gangs and stuff. My Mom was owned by Watto, though.”

“A Toydarian parts dealer,” Padmé said with a sigh. “He refused to part with Anakin’s mother for any offered price after we won Anakin in a pod race.”

“Won him in a pod race?” Cordé asked, shocked. “You never did explain what exactly happened on Tatooine, Padmé.”

“Padmé and Master Qui-Gon came in one day looking for some parts for a J-type,” Anakin explained. “But they didn’t have any Huttese wupipi or peggats. They had Republic credits which are basically worthless on Tatooine. Master Qui-Gon figured out that I was strong in the Force and decided to wager Padmé’s ship against my master on the Boonta Eve Classic.”

“What an arsehole,” Sabé said darkly. “What if you’d lost?”

“We’d have been trapped on Tatooine,” Padmé said firmly. “Though I’m sure he’d have done something incredibly amoral and wrong to get a ship.”

“There’s a reason that Obi-Wan left the order,” Anakin muttered. “I think he had enough of Master Qui-Gon and his stupid way of thinking.”

Anakin cleared his throat, rising to his feet. “You know, I- I should go, actually. Master Qui-Gon is probably wondering where I am, and-”

Pain. White hot, searing pain lancing through his head like a lightsaber through the side of his skull. Burning pain filled every one of his senses, filling his sight with burning white. Anakin barely registered the shocked gasps from the girls as he collapsed to his knees. Had his chip detonated? How could this have happened? What’s going on?

“Anakin! Anakin!” Padmé called out to him, coming to his aid. “Are you okay?”

‘What’s going on?’ was all he could keep repeating in his mind. He reached out with the Force…

And he felt it - the keening absence of that which he’d had lingering in his mind for the last five years. He was alone in his own mind for once, the connection he’d shared with his master no more than a shriveled, burnt stump, leading nowhere.

He took a few ragged breaths, his vision slowly clearing up as the worst of the pain passed. His head was absolutely throbbing, but he didn’t feel like he was going to burst into flames or die in agony.

He felt something cool being pressed up against his forehead, which soothed a lot of the tingling, burning sensation that still lingered.

“Something’s happened,” he murmured. “Master- Qui-Gon- he’s-”

“Your Majesty!” The door quickly, and Anakin turned to see someone dressed in a Naboo security uniform quickly moving through the doorway. “Your Majesty, there’s a situation, we need to take every step to assure your safety, now.”

“Captain?” Padmé asked, confused. “What has happened?”

“There has been an explosion - one of the personal ships docked on the landing pad,” the security guard explained hurriedly. “It is believed that this may not have been an accident, owing to whom the ship belonged.”

“Captain?” Padmé asked, eyebrows raised.

“Was the ship a Theta-class T-2c shuttle?” Anakin asked from his position on the floor, where Padmé had been pressing the wet compress against his head.

“Yes, it was,” the officer said grimly, before glancing at Padmé “Your Majesty?”

“Gregar, I’m sure you remember Anakin - the young man who destroyed the droid controller ship during the Trade Federation occupation?”

Realization spread through Gregar’s face and he gave Anakin a genuine smile. “Lord Skywalker! I apologize, I didn’t recognize you.”

“Lord?” Anakin asked airily. “I’m no Lord, just a Padawan.”

“Um, actually…” Padmé trailed off, looking abashed.

“Padmé?” Anakin asked, glancing back at the guilty-looking Queen.

“I… may have granted you a knighthood right after your heroics,” Padmé said, giving him a slight smile. “Just in case being a Jedi didn’t pan out for you for any reason.”

“Oh,” Anakin said, head still swimming. “Okay - so… someone just blew up a Jedi transport shuttle.”

“That appears to be what has happened, sir,” Gregar replied evenly. “The thermal signature of the explosion rules out any mechanical failure on the shuttle - it is assumed that it was done by saboteurs.”

“Have they recovered a body?” Anakin asked numbly.

“Ah, no, Lord Skywalker,”

“They will,” he replied simply. “I felt my training bond shatter with Master Qui-Gon. He’s dead.”

“Oh Goddess,” Sabé murmured. Anakin sighed and closed his eyes. He felt someone come over and settle down on his opposite side. Opening his eyes, he glanced over to see Sabé looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read.

She broke eye contact and glanced at Gregar. “What do we do now, Captain?”

“We have instructions to shelter-in-place for now, but when it emerges that only one body was found in the wreckage…”

“Anakin is in danger,” Padmé said simply. “If the shuttle has been destroyed, he has no safe way of getting off Bothawui. No offense to your skills, Ani, but you’ve said yourself you have little experience with lightsaber combat.”

“Not much, no,” Anakin replied, glancing down at his lightsaber with a sigh. “It’s okay, I’ll… figure it out. I’m a Jedi, this is what they teach us to prepare for.”

“No,” Cordé spoke up again - her quiet voice quite a bit louder this time.

“Cordé?” Padmé asked, glancing back at the other handmaiden.

“I- I don’t think we should leave Anakin to just find his way off-planet to save our own skins. We need to find a way to help him.”

“If we bring a Jedi onto our own transport, we’re just going to be painting a big red target on ourselves,” Sabé said. “As it is, we’ve likely been seen leaving the rotunda with him.”

“I’m having some of my men conduct a point-inspection on our transport,” Gregar replied. “I assure you, we will not face a similar sabotage plot. The current speculation is someone being daring and trying an assassination or kidnapping. Jedi are worth quite a lot in ransom or bounty.”

An uncomfortable silence lingered for a few moments.

“Anakin,” Cordé said, breaking the silence. “How tall are you?”

“162 centimeters,” Anakin replied. “Why?”

“I have an idea on how we can get you to safety,” Cordé said, looking thoughtful. “It worked for me and some of my friends once before, back when we were trying to hide from the police.”

“Why were you trying to hide from the police?” Anakin asked, bewildered.

Cordé glanced at Gregar, and then Padmé, before looking at Anakin again. “We robbed a food stall at one of the farmers markets. We were hungry, and didn’t have any other options. The Trade Minister had closed all the food pantries in the capital as part of his ‘revitalization’ project and we’d been left to fend for ourselves,” she said softly.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said. “I- I know what it’s like, sometimes, not knowing when you’re going to eat. Watto rarely hit me or Mom, but he definitely knew how to get you in the stomach.”

Cordé gave him a warm, reassuring smile before taking a deep breath. “So. My idea…”

…

Anakin wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cringe. All things considered, Cordé had come up with a genius plan. What better way to hide a Jedi padawan than for them to hide in plain sight?

It was why Anakin was now standing alongside Cordé and Sabé disguised as a Royal Naboo Handmaiden. The red-orange-and-yellow dress was designed as such to be very modest and not show off anything in-particular, allowing for him to hide the fact he wasn’t a nearly-twenty-year-old woman, or that he had a lightsaber tucked into his hakama underneath the dress, plus the headwrap and hood hid his short hair and padawan braid.

He could do without the heels, though. It was taking all of his concentration and some of what Qui-Gon would term “frivolous use of the Force” to not fall on his face right now.

“Your Majesty,” the Bothan leader said fretfully. “We cannot apologize enough for this … this disastrous conclusion to these negotiations. We assure you that this is most unusual, and this security lapse will be investigated thoroughly!”

“Chairman,” Padmé said evenly in her Amidala voice. “We are thankful for the hospitality you have shown us and our entourage these past few days. I shall return to Naboo with the friendship of Bothawui in my heart, and I assure you, this security incident shall be treated just as such - an incident.”

Anakin leaned towards Sabé. “Why does she put on that really fake accent whenever she’s the Queen?” he asked as quietly as possible.

Sabé stifled a giggle. “My fault,” she whispered back. “It’d be rather obvious someone’s a decoy if the Queen switches between accents every time she makes an appearance. So, she’s been trying to learn my accent rather than the other way around. I’ve told her that I don’t mind, but she insists on at least trying to sound a bit more cultured.”

“Your accent changes too, though,” Anakin pointed out. “You sound a lot more formal as a decoy than you do now.”

“That’s the difference between elocution lessons and just being me, Ani,” Sabé said with a grin as Amidala moved to leave. Anakin fell in behind Sabé but ahead of Cordé as they filed out of the room. The walk to the launchpad wasn’t very far either. The ship that was waiting was the sleek Naboo yacht that he had remembered from five years ago.

“Your Majesty,” the pilot said, stepping up and bowing at the waist. “We are ready for departure as soon as you and yours are settled in.”

“Have you inspected the craft for any sabotage, Lieutenant?” Amidala asked, giving the pilot her best ‘intimidating’ stare.

“I assure you,” Gregar spoke up, interrupting the pilot before he could speak. “Every inch of the ship has been checked, re-checked, and has been guarded with the utmost adherence to our oaths.”

Amidala nodded reluctantly, and stepped up onto the ship, her handmaidens - and Anakin - in tow.

…

Anakin sat alone, staring out of the porthole of his cabin on Padmé’s ship. It had been five years since he’d sat in this same spot, staring out of the window wondering what the future held. Now? He wasn’t so sure.

He glanced away from the window and down at the comm in his hands. He should be giving a report to the Jedi right now - that’s what he was supposed to do when his master died unceremoniously. Yet… he couldn’t find it in himself to bother. As much as he respected the likes of Master Windu and some of the others, the idea of going right back to Coruscant, getting tossed to another Jedi master who didn’t care, being treated like a weapon-to-win-a-cold-war-against-the-dark…

He didn’t want any of that. Not really. Not after five years of dealing with it.

He set the comm on the bedside table and pulled his legs up and into his chest. If he wasn’t going to go back to Coruscant, what should he do? What could he do? He was only thirteen years old - very nearly fourteen - after all. Legally, the Jedi had every right to collect him, like a wayward pet that had slipped its leash.

A small chime sounded throughout the room, jerking him from his brooding. He glanced up at the door.

“Um, come in?” he said questioningly. He really wasn’t expecting guests - Padmé and the others were surely too busy with whatever it was they usually did after diplomatic conferences to bother with him.

The door opened, revealing Sabé, standing awkwardly in the doorway, her hands clasped in front of her dress.

“Anakin,” she said. “I apologize for bothering you–this is so very silly of me–but I was wondering if you would like for me to conduct some kind of rites for Master Jinn.”

“Rites?” Anakin asked, blinking.

“Um - death rites. So that his spirit may pass from this world to the next,” Sabé explained, stepping into the room and coming to sit on the bed next to him. “I know you Jedi have your own way of doing things, but I know that sometimes the prayers can provide a modicum of comfort for those grieving.”

Anakin sighed. “I guess. I don’t know if what I feel is grief or… something else,” he said softly.

“Maybe letting go of Qui-Gon’s spirit will allow you to find some closure,” Sabé said wisely. “Do you know how to sit in the lotus position?”

“They taught us that in the Temple, yeah - it’s how we meditate,” Anakin murmured.

“Turn to face me, and sit in the lotus position,” she said simply.

Anakin complied and found himself sitting in the lotus position across from Sabé who was mirroring him.

“Now, we join hands,” Sabé said gently. She took Anakin’s hands in hers, and she gave him a reassuring smile. “If you wish to close your eyes and let yourself out into the Force, you can. I’ve seen some of the priestesses who were just shy of being able to become Jedi doing wondrous things with it.”

Anakin hummed and closed his eyes.

“Goddesses above - glory be to thy name,” Sabé murmured quietly, taking a deep breath.

“At the rising of the sun and at its going down, we remember them,” she said, gently squeezing Anakin’s hand. “With the blowing of the wind, and in the chill of the winter, we remember them.”

It was cold on Coruscant - colder than even the darkest, inkiest night on Tatooine. Even when the moon was hidden, it was never this cold. Even the blankets given by Master Dax were not enough to keep warm sometimes. So many nights, shivering, wishing to be someplace else.

“At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring, we remember them.”

“Anakin,” Master Qui-Gon said simply. “There is one cardinal rule I wish for you to always remember.”

“Master?” Anakin asked curiously.

“You must always maintain faith in the Living Force - that unifying thread that brings the galaxy together,” Qui-Gon said, gently plucking an unbloomed flower from Master Unduli’s garden. He showed it to Anakin, and as if by magic, it began to unfold and blossom, turning a spectacle of new colors. “There is so much you can do if you believe in the Force. There is no limitation to what you can do if you put your mind to it.”

“...And so long as we live, they too shall live, for they are now a part of us as we remember them,” Sabé continued. “In your name, guide the spirit of the departed, Qui-Gon Jinn, onward to eternal rest in your light.”

The dam burst, and Anakin found himself pressed to the shoulder of Sabé’s dress, tears flowing. He shouldn’t be so - so sad about it. Master Qui-Gon was an egotistical asshat who constantly treated him like he was just an instrument of the Force, rather than a person. He never listened, barely seemed to care - but it still hurt that he was gone!

The only person who had wanted him in the whole Jedi Order, one of the only people who seemed interested in seeing him become something more than just an illiterate slave! It wasn’t fair!

Anakin took a gasping breath and fought a valiant effort to stop the tears from flowing - eventually, after great difficulty, he managed it. Leaning back away from Sabé, he wiped the tear tracks from his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have fallen apart on you like that.”

“Anakin,” Sabé said gently. “Before I became a royal handmaiden, I was an apprentice priestess. Believe me when I say I have seen plenty of people break down crying at wakes. More than I would ever care to see.”

“Still,” Anakin murmured.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked. “Padmé is practically beside herself with worry about you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Anakin said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess - I just need some alone time.”

Sabé offered him a reassuring smile before rising to her feet. “Fair enough,” she said with a smile. “If you need anything - the three of us are around, as are Gregar and the crew. They’ll be more than happy to help you with… whatever it is you want or need.”

“Thank you,” Anakin said softly, throwing her a reassuring smile.

Once Sabé had gone, Anakin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Meditation never seemed to work for him, but maybe it was time to do something like that, see if he could get this awful feeling in his chest to go away… or at least get some trance-induced rest so he didn’t feel like a trodden-on loth cat.

Either way - it was a plain sight better than sitting in here in anguish. He absolutely hated feeling this way.

Chapter Text

Two days later, their arrival on Naboo was surprisingly quiet and without fanfare - Anakin had fully expected a horde of politicians ready to bend over backwards to win favor with the Queen to offer empty words and even emptier expressions, but only a security detail awaited them as they went to disembark the shuttle.

He had put the handmaiden disguise back on, if only to keep up the illusion of who had boarded the ship on Bothawui in case they were being watched by… someone; but he appreciated the anonymity, as not a single person on the landing pad paid much attention to him at all.

Really, he thought he should be questioning the security of Padmé’s retinue if this was the case.

“Your Majesty - welcome back. I am glad to see you whole and in good health after such a harrowing experience,” the security guard said, bowing at the waist. “We have received the full report on the incident on Bothawui.”

“Were the local security forces able to determine the cause of the incident?” Amidala asked as they walked through the hangar doors and into the palace proper. Anakin looked around at the walls - they still bore much of the damage of the occupation. Bits of the paint and finish were missing, scorch marks everywhere, and some of the mechanical bits of the door mechanism were hanging half-out of their sconce, clearly in the middle of being worked on by technicians.

“Security footage, and correlation with Republic security services has indicated that the perpetrator of the attack was a Kaleesh warlord and terrorist acting against the Republic and Jedi for their role in the Huk War. Qymaen jai Sheelai is the name that was given to us by GalSec.”

“Has he - or any organization claimed responsibility?” Amidala asked curiously.

“At this time - no,” the security guard said with a sigh. “Unfortunately, the Bothans were able to recover some fragmented human remains. At this time, they are unable to determine if they belong to Master Qui-Gon Jinn or his padawan.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Amidala said before turning to face Gregar. “Captain - can you please see to it that there is a security sweep on the palace? We want to be absolutely certain that this was not an attack aimed at Us and the Naboo.”

“Right away, majesty,” Gregar said with a bow.

…

“They’re not sure if I’m alive or dead,” Anakin said quietly, standing by the door of the royal apartments. Padmé glanced back at him in her Amidala robes and sighed.

“Forensics is a difficult business - I can’t begin to tell you how many times we’ve had to bury the dead of the occupation in mass graves because their remains can’t be identified after the terror bombings,” she said. “You haven’t reached out to the Jedi yet?”

“No,” Anakin said, rubbing his arm. “I- I thought about it, but I don’t know if I want to or not. I’ve been… having a lot of misgivings about the Jedi as of late.”

Padmé hummed as Cordé untangled her from her headpiece. “It is entirely up to you, Anakin,” she said reassuringly - though Anakin knew that there was only so much she could do to assuage what was going on in his mind. “What were you planning to do if not go back to the Jedi?”

“I’m sure they’ll eventually come looking for me,” Anakin said. It would be very unlike a bunch of stick-in-the-butt masters to let their property stray for very long, eventually they’d try to locate him and drag him back to Coruscant… but…

“But until then? I don’t know. I guess I’m here on Naboo, I may as well stay for a bit. Doing what, I don’t know… then maybe I can go back to Tatooine and free my mom. I promised - and maybe I can’t free everyone, but I can free her at least.”

“Ani,” Padmé said gently. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you want. Whatever Naboo can do to help you, it will be yours.”

Anakin gave her a wry smile.

“Though you will have to step out for a bit - we need to change,” Padmé said, suddenly seriously. “Feel free to walk around and explore the palace. You’d be surprised just how many corridors there are. Sometimes I feel like I’m lost!”

…

Anakin found himself sitting in a rather large room - clearly it was intended for receiving noblemen or diplomats or whatever in a less formal setting than the grandiose throne room. The large glass windows were facing towards the east - the Naboo sun was already beginning to slowly set to the horizon, filling the room with a golden glow.

On the wall - and the focus of his thoughts right now - was a large portrait of a very important-looking woman, surrounded by an abundance of pink and white flowers. He wasn’t sure why this one was more important than the others, but he thought it might be because it had much more life and vibrance to it than the others.

“Ani?”

Anakin turned his head to see Padmé - just Padmé, free of her queenly trappings - standing just inside the double doors of the reception room.

“You never came back - I’ve been looking for you,” she said gently. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“I explored a bit,” Anakin said thoughtfully, turning back towards the portrait. “But I got bored and decided to come in here. It’s very quiet, and there’s no construction crews.”

“This was one of the rooms that thankfully escaped most of the damage during the battle,” Padmé explained, coming over to sit next to Anakin on the loveseat.

“Who is this?” Anakin asked curiously, gesturing at the large portrait on the wall.

“Her?” Padmé asked, curiously. “That was Queen Tamarai, the very first Queen of the Naboo. All those flowers are around her tamaraikal - lotuses. That’s why the lotus is the symbol of the Crown.”

“Are they named for her?”

“No,” Padmé replied with a smile. “Her story is woven into the very fabric of our planetary history. There are two stories about Queen Tamarai - one is a very dry historical text from the University of Theed’s archives, and the other is a story that has been told, retold, and retold further by every thespian on the planet, and by every mother to daughter.”

Just like the Grandmothers.

“Tell me the story,” he whispered.

“Well - some of it requires historical context to know the truth,” Padmé said thoughtfully, pulling some of her mass of curls out of her face. “Roughly four thousand years ago, Naboo was a planet primarily inhabited by the Gungans, though they mostly stayed in the planet’s oceans, away from the land, as they had little use for it as they built their cities beneath the oceans where kelp, seaweed, coral and fish were abundant. They called the whole world Gunga. Alderaan, a planet that at the time was looking for a way to expand its influence and reach across the galaxy, created a seed colony called Nabu.”

Anakin raised his eyebrows but allowed her to continue.

“Nabu was a place that went through its growing pains, as any nascent colony would. But over the course of many generations, Nabu went from a few outposts amid dense jungles, deserts and forests, to a teeming planet of people, with their own traditions, customs and beliefs. During this time, as I’m sure you may know from the Jedi, the galaxy was locked in a terrible war.”

This, Anakin did indeed know. The Jedi had spent so much time talking about it. The Revanchist, Exar Kun, and the Old Sith Wars were a fundamental part of understanding the past of the Jedi, and why they were what they were today. To say nothing of the Prodigal Knight and her sacrifices to defeat Darth Malak.

“Suffice it to say,” Padmé continued. “The war’s emergencies allowed Naboo a great degree of autonomy and self-governance that a colonial world would otherwise not receive. When the war finally came to an end, things changed. Alderaan returned, looking to reassert their authority, and they did not like such evocative diversity that contrasted with their own conservative approach to society - so, in an attempt to reign us in, they banned the worship of our pantheon, cracked down on ‘linguistic separatism’, and tried to more rigorously enforce sexual and gender segregation than had ever been under the more ‘benign neglect’ colonial government.”

No matter where you went, masters were just the same. Too concerned about how to reap every peggat from you. Too caught up in their own twisted sadism.

“Naturally,” Padmé said, amused. “This did not go over well with many, and almost immediately the planet erupted into a struggle for our independence. Therefore, we get to the story of Tamarai. Tamarai was born into abject poverty, the child of yeoman farmers who had little more than the clothes on their backs to their name. When she was born, it had been expected that she would follow her father and her father’s father into farming, sire a family, serve the Alderaani authorities, and do what was expected for yet another poor laborer whose life bore no meaning. Yet, a prophecy had been made among the exiled vedics and priestesses. That a child, born from the soil, would ascend to the highest purpose and be the savior of the Naboo.”

“A Chosen One?” Anakin asked, furrowing his brow and looking up at the woman in the portrait. Could she have been like him - with an impossible destiny thrown onto her shoulders? How had she prevailed to be remembered so fondly so many centuries later?

“So they say - perhaps The Ballad of Queen Tamarai embellishes it a bit,” Padmé said evenly. “As the struggle between Alderaan’s oppressive desperation to keep their most profitable colony, and a Naboo which yearned to be free from said tyranny intensified, Tamarai was forced to leave home after the land her family tilled was razed, and her family killed.”

Padmé gestured to the portrait. “She migrated to Theed,” she said thoughtfully. “A city in near chaos due to the starvation of the masses due to Alderaani tariffs. It was there that she was reborn once more, shedding the skin of whom she used to be, and embracing her new destiny.”

Padmé clearly had a great deal of romanticism for this story, the way she seemed to practically shine at the thought of it.

“When the Rice Riots began, Tamarai was right there at the forefront, becoming a symbol of planetary resistance. Despite the present danger to herself - she refused to back down from the challenge, giving impassioned speeches, leading raids against the Alderaani garrisons, and doing everything she could to lead our people to freedom. The war soon escalated further as it engulfed the cities and urban areas of the planet. What had once been merely rumblings on the holo, and whispers among many grew into a wildfire that could not be contained, and the leaders of the national independence movement approached her with one request - to be the unifying symbol of our people in their time of greatest struggle, for she was so beloved by the people. So, it was that at age fourteen, as Alderaani security forces retreated from the city in disarray, that Queen Tamarai was crowned at the Great Temple.”

“The war lasted for many, awful years - a time of great suffering for our people,” Padmé explained. “When Alderaan gave up - and surrendered their rights to subjugate us any further, Queen Tamarai thanked those who had fought and died for Naboo’s freedom. She announced her immediate abdication, and after she departed Theed, she was never seen again.”

“She abdicated?” Anakin asked, surprised. “Then disappeared?”

“Her legend is borderline mythical. Much of the story of her life has been lost or rewritten by revisionists, so who truly knows what became of her after that. Perhaps she lived on in peace and obscurity after giving up the throne, but the commonly accepted ending to this story is that she lived a life of devotion and strength, served her people with dignity and kindness, gave up power for peace, and then disappeared and was never seen again. The prophecy of Tamarai - and her actions - are the sole reason why the monarch of the Naboo is elected at fourteen years old, and can serve no more than two terms of office. It is a sacrament of the Naboo that has stood for thousands of years, and shall stand for thousands more.”

Anakin hummed in wonderment. “A Chosen One who took destiny into their own hands,” he echoed. “What did you mean by 'she was reborn’?”

“It is as I said - Queen Tamarai was born to yeoman and was expected to sire heirs to continue working the land of their lord, per the historical record of the time. This is taken by many to indicate that Queen Tamarai was raised as a boy until such a time she took up her name and cause. Some documentation suggests she was third-gendered, as the antiquated equivalent of the first-person ‘they’ pronoun is often used, along with ‘she’. Of course, Nubaé grammatical rules have evolved significantly over the centuries since her reign, so that could just be a projection of our modern standards on someone who lived thousands of years ago, naturally.”

“Master Yoda once told me that who we are as we present ourselves to the world doesn’t matter. ‘Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter,’” Anakin said, reciting the lesson he once got from Master Yoda. “I don’t know if I believe that or not.”

“I couldn’t possibly comment on how the Force works,” Padmé said. “Though I suppose I could see what Master Yoda means. It doesn’t matter how you present yourself, ultimately what matters is the person you are on the inside. Like, for instance, look at me. Two sides of the same cred-chip. I am Queen Amidala, leader of a planet of billions of sentient beings… and I am Padmé Naberrie, a nineteen year old girl who more often than not, is in way over her head. They are the same person, it is just that the external presentation changes with the situation.”

“Ultimately - no matter how you present yourself, how you look, you are still Anakin Skywalker,” Padmé said, gently placing a hand on Anakin’s. “What that means, is up to you.”

Padmé rose to her feet and smiled at him. “I’m sure whatever decision you make about what you want from the future, it will be a good one. Come join us for dinner, Ani. It does no good for you to hide away and mope the rest of your time here, thinking about what could have been - or what will be.”

“You’re right - I just, I dunno, I get caught up in my head sometimes,” Anakin said lamely, frowning.

“That’s called being an angsty teenager,” Padmé said with a smile. “Believe me, I know what you’re going through. Now, come on.”

…

Anakin was not an anthropologist. In fact, he could be considered close to the farthest thing from it. He couldn’t stand listening to the dreary lectures that Master Chukotka–the residing council member in charge of the Jedi Excavation Corps–often gave about the various ruins and cultural history they explored and recovered on several tomb worlds across the mid-and-outer Rim.

For Anakin, it was just more carelessness by those who were too stuck in their stupid Core Worlds philosophy of enlightened civilization. He recalled one such lecture discussing the ‘native sentients of Tatooine’ in which Master Chukotka painted a very negative view of the Tuskens and Jawas, like they were backwards savage tribals who didn’t have a system of writing.

How one could ever consider the Tuskra and Jawra to be anything but people worthy of dignity.

The Tuskra were fiercely territorial and rarely spoke to those who were not already part of their nomadic clans. They didn’t need to. Sometimes slaves who escaped their masters and made it into the desert were adopted into those Tuskra clans. It was one of the main reasons why several of the clans frequently raided moisture farms and isolated settlements. Revenge for the slights against their number. Blood to spill in order to satisfy the debt of thousands of years.

They were the First People of Tatooine, and the stories his mother told him so long ago had talked about how the Tuskra had given shelter and comfort to Ekkreth and had helped him trick and defeat the Depur time and time again. They were the friends of the Amavikka, not enemies.

The Jawas on the other hand, were some of the most talented mechanics on Tatooine. They took anything that wasn’t nailed down, of course, so if you left your speeder out in the dunes you were likely to see it stripped for parts by the time you got back but their intelligence could not be understated either. They obeyed the laws of the desert, just as everyone else did.

Either way. Despite the racism of the Jedi Excavation Corps, and Anakin’s complete distaste for anthropology as a consequence, there were still some things about the galaxy at-large that Anakin found remarkably fascinating.

The last meal of the day, for instance, and how it differed between societies.

On Tatooine, for those in the slave quarter, it was a time of silent reflection that they had survived another day. A time to recuperate from the abuse and misery of being under the all-gazing eye of the Depur. It was never a big meal - but one they did the best they could with under the given circumstances. The children and infirm would eat first– and eat the most, to keep their strength so that the Depur would not cast them away.

Those who were strongest, hardiest, would partake last, as they needed it the least.

When he’d been taken to the Jedi Temple, it was a different way of working - if anything, it was the opposite of a silent reflection. It was loud, boisterous - the numberless conversations held all around the temple cafeteria had been a source of constant sensory overload for Anakin, and he’d started taking snacks to the Room of One-Thousand Fountains just to get away from it.

There was no order of who got to eat first, more often than not it was a regimented first-come-first-serve system depending on your free time. The commissariat kept to given hours, and it was your responsibility to make sure you got there to eat or not.

Now, on Naboo? At least in this small sample size, it was different still. It was more… personal, more like Tatooine. But not as somber and reflective. It was a time of introspection, sure, but it didn’t have that decidedly bitter note underneath it all.

In fact - Anakin’s first meal on this trip to Naboo was a “quick-serve” meal prepared by an apologetic Padmé.

“I’m sorry, Ani,” she said, setting the bowl of food in front of him. “I’m complete shit at cooking - my sister told me once that I could burn water.”

“It’s alright,” Anakin said with a smile. “I don’t mind.”

“Saché will be back tomorrow - along with the others,” Cordé provided helpfully. “Plus, since it will be Sunsday, we can prepare a proper meal for all of us.”

Anakin glanced down at the meal itself - it was a bowl of rice, with a variety of vegetables and other things in it that he couldn’t quite identify. “What is this?”

“Heat-and-Serve rice bowl,” Padmé said amusedly. “I think you’ve got the kéali with chili sauce.”

“Kéali?” Anakin asked.

“They call them redfowl in Basic,” Sabé replied.

“Oh! Redfowl,” Anakin murmured. It was called something completely different in Huttese - the word meant something like ‘feathered rat’, even though they looked absolutely nothing like womp rats… though, nobody ever said that the slugs were particularly intelligent.

He stirred his bowl up like Padmé, Cordé and Sabé all did, and took a bite of it.

“Wow, this is good!” he said in awe. “The Jedi would never have anything this… flavorful. There’s so many different groups of people in the Temple, so they kind of go for whatever’s the least offensive to any one palate. It’s fine, but just… kind of bland.”

“People from the Core Worlds are so absurd with how little spice tolerance they have,” Padmé said dismissively. “When I was a junior legislator, I was at this conference with a bunch of delegates from a bunch of Core and Rim sectors. The delegate from Chandrila complained about the spice in everything, the big baby.”

“There’s a sort of mushroom that grows on the vaporators on Tatooine - they’re rare delicacies for slaves, actually. The rare times we’ve been able to get them, we usually roast them over an open flame. They are, far and above, absolutely the most delicious thing I’ve ever had in my life. That being said, they’re painfully spicy, even by our standards.”

“Sounds delicious,” Sabé mused.

The conversation continued on into other things Anakin wasn’t involved in. Something about the Governor and the Civilian Governance Council. He didn’t pay close attention to the politics of the respective systems. It wasn’t relevant to what Master Qui-Gon had wanted him to know as a Jedi, and it wasn’t particularly relevant to him now that he was… whatever it was that he was.

“Ani?”

Anakin looked up, abashed at the fact all three girls were staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I was - um, thinking. Did you say something?”

Padmé gave him a smile. “It’s quite alright. I was asking you for your opinion on something. Jedi have always been long valued as advisors on matters across the galaxy.”

“Oh,” Anakin said, blushing. “Um - you’ll have to explain it to me. I don’t quite know what you were talking about. The Governor?”

“There is some concern,” Padmé explained gently. “that some members of the Civilian Governance Council have been falsifying their reports to Governor Bibble. At our last private meeting, Governor Bibble relayed to me that the two reports that are in dispute, at least to his eye, are the Economics Portfolio and Agricultural Portfolio.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Well,” Padmé said amusedly. “I’m not entirely sure. The Jedi are remarkable at reading people, are they not?”

Anakin thought back to Bothawui and hummed. “Yeah, kinda sorta. Intent at a given moment, motivations…” he said, trailing off before shrugging. “Kinda like on Bothawui. A lot of those politicians doing negotiations were more concerned about how the trade treaty would make them richer, rather than a genuine concern for the welfare of their planets.”

Padmé hummed, tapping her fingers on the wooden table. “If you were to be present at a meeting of the cabinet, and the subject of these reports came up, would you be able to read something off the individuals in question?”

“I’ve only tried to do it once, on Bothawui. But, Master Qui-Gon has explained that it is possible. So… maybe.”

“It’s worth a try,” Padmé said. “If you agree, of course - if you don’t wish to do this, you don’t have to.”

Anakin hummed. “I guess. I don’t have anything else to do, so sure.”

…

“This is Miré’s room,” Cordé explained as she opened the door and showed Anakin the rather spacious room. “She took most of her stuff with her, but there may be some things left behind that she wouldn’t need.”

“What happened to her?” Anakin asked.

“She’s currently on a year of religious service- it’s something many people choose to do once they reach their age of majority,” Cordé explained. “She’s been gone for about three months now, so if there’s anything left behind, she probably won’t mind you using it for whatever reason.”

“Alright,” Anakin said with a hum, sitting down on the bed. “Thank you for your hospitality - all three of you. I know that this is a terrible intrusion.”

“It isn’t as if you’re unwelcome, Ani,” Cordé said reassuringly. “Believe me, Padmé, Sabé and I are all very pleased to have you here. It is better you be here with people who care, than be left wandering, trying to find your way to someplace safe.”

“I know, just - thanks.”

The reassuring smile he got made him feel so much better.

He slept better that night than he had on Padmé’s ship. He actually felt rather refreshed the next morning when he woke up. However, now he was facing a new conundrum - other than the handmaiden disguise, he had been wearing the same clothes now for three whole days.

He took a quick shower (no matter how many years passed - or how many places he went where water was abundant, he couldn’t fathom wasting so much of it to bathe himself), and walked back into the bedroom. He was thinking about whether he should just put his Jedi robes back on, or try to find something else.

He walked over to the closet and opened it, and was surprised at just how large it was - and how many things were still in there. He grimaced - it looked like his options for things to wear were going to be rather limited.

He’d just have to get creative, he guessed.

…

Padmé stepped out of her bedroom and gave a thoughtful sigh. She didn’t need to be in full regalia until this evening for the council meeting she had arranged, which she was very thankful for.

Saché, Eirtaé and the others, save for Miré, would be arriving back today and she had that to look forward to.

First, though, she wanted to check in on her friend to make sure he wasn’t struggling too much. She had given him plenty of space the couple days they were in transit back to Naboo, and she had let Sabé and Cordé take point on helping him out with amenities, but the last thing she wanted was to be distant and cold with him.

Miré’s room was on the upper floor of the royal apartment, and Padmé wove her way up there to see if Anakin needed any help this morning - she knew that the plumbing hadn’t worked the same since the occupation, and that sometimes the shower handles got stuck or didn’t put out hot water without some fine adjusting.

She knocked on the door - but received no response.

She knocked again. “Ani?” she asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Padmé?” Anakin’s voice came from the other side. “Um, everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Do you need my help with something?”

There was a beat of silence. “Um, yeah, actually, could you come in real quick? I do need your help.”

Padmé opened the door and was not quite prepared for the sight in front of her. Anakin was standing in front of Miré’s full-length mirror, trying to zip up one of her dresses. It was the full-length dark gray-and-silver one with the matching short jacket - Padmé didn’t quite remember where it had come from, but it had been one Miré had grown out of during her service as a handmaiden.

Anakin was nearly red in embarrassment. “Would you mind helping me zip this up?” he asked. “I don’t know how to do it.”

Padmé closed the door behind her and quickly crossed the room to help. It took little effort for her to get her friend zipped up in the dress - which, if she was honest, looked quite wonderful on him. “Some dresses require two sets of hands to zip up properly. There’s nothing you could have done on your own.”

“Thank you,” Anakin said, his blush not fading at all. “Um - this seems really weird, doesn’t it?”

“Not that weird, you’re allowed to express yourself however you want. Though I will admit I am curious.”

“Well,” Anakin muttered. “Um.”

He straightened up and looked at her through the mirror, his hands smoothing out the front of his dress. “My robes - they were really well-worn. Other than putting the handmaiden disguise on top of it, I’ve been wearing them for like, three days.”

“Oh,” Padmé said, suddenly getting it. “Oh, yes. Okay, you were looking for something to wear, then.”

“Yeah,” Anakin admitted. “Um - Miré, that’s her name, right? She took most of her stuff with her when she went on her religious thing that Cordé told me about, so I had to put something together. Like, underwear and stuff. I couldn’t find anything like that, so I borrowed one of her… I don’t know how to explain it… a tunic with straps instead of sleeves?”

“Oh, a slip,” Padmé said with a nod. “I’m sure Miré won’t mind. She never wore that dress much anyway, and she has so many different slips, I don’t think she’ll miss the one she left behind.”

“Is it too much?” Anakin asked nervously.

“No, not at all. You look pretty,” Padmé said appreciatively. “If it was me, there would be a few other things I’d put on to kind of… make it a whole thing, but you look good, actually.”

Anakin had an unreadable expression on his face before making a weird noise. “What would you do, then?” he asked.

Padmé hummed. “How do you feel about makeup?” she shot back, eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know, I’ve never worn it, though I’ve seen Aaylas’ecura wear it sometimes.”

“We could try that, maybe jewelry if you’re fine with that?” Padmé offered. She wasn’t sure what Anakin’s response to those things would be, but she’d always believed in being as supportive as she could - when her friend Isa had come out to her, she was proud to say she hadn’t missed a beat with her friend’s new name and pronouns.

“I guess,” Anakin said, though his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

“Well, if you’re not sure, then you shouldn’t,” Padmé said firmly.

Anakin blushed, but nodded. “Yeah. I think I’m okay for now. Um - one more thing,” he said quietly. “I’m barefoot. Do you have any shoes I can wear? Most of the stuff that Miré left behind was too small for me.”

“You were able to wear my heels on Bothawui, right?” Padmé asked. “I think I have something that can go with this dress, come to my room and we’ll look,”

She managed to get Anakin down to her room, and she sat him down at her vanity table.

“Now, stay here and let me go see if I can find something that works,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile before disappearing into her walk-in closet. She had so many shoes - more than she would ever reasonably use in a week, let alone a lifetime, but that was the life of a Queen and a noblewoman.

She wished she could find Anakin something like a pair of boots or trainers, but it had been many years since she’d been allowed to wear anything that common, much to her frustration. She did find a few pairs of heels that might work well with his dress, and she also grabbed a pair of stockings just for the sake of argument.

“Alright, Ani,” she said, coming back out with a few options. “Let’s see if you can fit into any of these. First, though, stockings.”

“Stockings?” Anakin asked, surprised.

“Yeah - I’ll show you how to put them on.”

She was pleased at how polite and patient Anakin was. She slowly demonstrated to him how to roll up stockings and put them on - which she demonstrated on his right leg, and then he took over and did it for himself on his left leg.

“How does that feel?” she asked, once they’d gotten a few of the snags out.

“Weird, but not bad,” Anakin said thoughtfully. He wiggled his toes a few times.

Padmé giggled. “Alright - almost done, now we just need to see if you can fit into any of these heels.”

The only pair that Anakin could fit into without any discomfort was the pair of short closed-toe heels with an ankle strap that she had gotten as a birthday gift from her sister intended for some gala she had attended just before her enthronement. She had absolutely hated it - because she hated fancy galas and balls - and had never worn them.

“How does that feel?” Padmé asked curiously.

“Um, I guess it’s fine. As comfortable as it can be considering it’s heeled,” Anakin said, blushing again. “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome,” Padmé said with a smile. “You’ll soon forget you’re wearing all these things and they’ll just be normal clothes. I promise.”

“Uh-huh,” Anakin said, though the tone in his voice was clear that he didn’t believe her.

…

“Mornin’ Pads, Ani,” Sabé greeted as she arrived in the kitchen. She stopped briefly and glanced at Anakin who was sitting at the table, poking at a bowl of porridge with a neutral expression on his face. “You look pretty today, Ani.”

“Um, thanks,” Anakin said, turning bright red. “I kinda needed somethin’ to wear, and Miré’s closet didn’t have a lot of stuff I really thought would be comfortable. This isn’t bad, though, I guess.”

“I’m glad,” Sabé said with a smile, before turning her attention to her boss and… well, the term for what they were to each other was kind of complicated.

“So, Pads - anything on the agenda today? We have that meeting with the Council later, right?”

“That’s this evening,” Padmé replied, not looking up from her datapad. “The girls should be arriving at various parts of the day today, but we’ll all be here for the Council meeting, and then we can have dinner afterwards.”

“Cor,” Sabé said with a grin, before rummaging around the icebox for something to eat. Settling on a protein bar, she shut the door and waltzed over to the counter where Padmé was leaning against poking at her datapad. Making sure that Anakin wasn’t looking, she reached down and pinched Padmé’s butt, causing the Queen to let out an undignified squeak.

Of course, Anakin immediately perked up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “What’s wrong?” he asked intensely.

“Nothing,” Padmé said, glaring at Sabé who couldn’t keep herself from grinning. “Just a cramp.”

“Oh,” Anakin said, turning back to his food. “‘kay.”

“Sabé, behave yourself,” Padmé whispered.

“Don’t leave it hanging out there, inviting me to pinch it,” Sabé shot back with a playful wink.

“Alright,” she said louder, continuing her walk towards the door. “If you two need me, I’m going to be getting a workout in - don’t hesitate to call me if you need me for anything.”

…

After Sabé had left, Padmé reached down and massaged her left buttcheek. Sabé was - so infuriating sometimes! She could do stuff like that and be the biggest hornball on Naboo, and then other times be the most suave woman in the world, and Padmé knew that she did it on purpose just to mess with her.

Sabé existed in this perfect state of superposition. She was the realist of her inner circle - always bringing up the consequences of an idealist position, or suggesting realistic alternatives that had a chance at working out and weren’t just pie-in-the-sky pipedreams. Yet at the same time, off-duty, she enjoyed riling Padmé up and getting her flustered and frustrated.

Like pinching her bottom with Anakin less than five feet away!

The last thing she wanted to do was make Anakin any more uncomfortable than he already was.

Though she’d never admit it (because where’s the fun in that), she absolutely adored Sabé’s spontaneity when it came to affection. Like last year when she had snuck into Padmé’s bedchamber in the middle of the night dressed in nothing but a sheer nightgown - that had been a very happy birthday indeed for the Queen of Naboo.

She cleared her throat and did her best to push those pleasant memories away for now.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “Ani - is there anything you’re particularly interested in doing today?”

“Um - no? I don’t know. Master Qui-Gon didn’t let me do much. I guess I could meditate and practice my forms.”

“I was planning to walk around the palace gardens,” Padmé said, shaking her head. “Why don’t we do that instead? You’re allowed to do whatever you want, but you don’t have to keep yourself to the rigid rules of the Jedi.”

Anakin seemed to mull it over. “Okay,” he said softly. “That sounds fine, I guess.”

…

Anakin hadn’t ever seen such an explosive combination of colors in his whole life. Between Tatooine’s browns, and Coruscant’s grays-and-whites, The garden was like the legends he’d heard from the Grandmothers, of what Tatooine used to be like, a long time ago - and what it will be again when every slave is free.

“I believe there are close to five-hundred and sixty different species of flower here,” Padmé explained to him excitedly as they walked through the lattice archway that marked the entrance to the gardens.

“There are that many species of flower?”

“Oh, certainly,” Padmé said with a smile. “These five-hundred and sixty are just specimens we preserved and brought here. There are likely thousands of others on planets that aren’t anything like Naboo, and the climate is the main impediment to bringing a specimen here for preservation.”

Anakin thought about tzai, and how it only grew in the harsh desert climate of Tatooine. Could other desert planets like that have it? Did the Naboo once visit Tatooine and take one with them, and could it be joined in this mass of nearly six-hundred species of plant? What would they have thought if they’d come across such a thing? They did not know the secrets which Ar-Amu gave to Ebra who gave to the people…

In the five years since he had left Tatooine, the guilt and prickling discomfort in his stomach had not waned. No matter how many times the Jedi told him he must forget, how much he must let go - no matter how pretty Naboo was, his mind always seemed to circle right back to Tatooine.

“You didn’t really want to do this, did you?” Padmé asked gently, startling Anakin from his reverie. He glanced at the guilty-looking monarch, who was staring down at a beautiful red flower. “I’m doing that thing again where I try to push people to do things, aren’t I?” she asked. “My sister says I can be like that sometimes.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. If I wasn’t here, I’d be spending the whole day in a bedroom trying to meditate or being sad, I guess, and I guess that doesn’t help anything. I have a decision I need to make, and I’m not sure I can make it,” Anakin said, furrowing his brow in thought.

“Going back to the Jedi or not, right?” Padmé asked.

“Yeah - I…” Anakin murmured, trailing off as he gently fingered his padawan braid. “It’s my duty as a Jedi to go back - to accept whichever master the Council gives me to, and continue to be the Jedi that Qui-Gon thought I could be. But I don’t think that’s what I want to be. I don’t think I’m really cut out for it.”

“You’re allowed to do other things with your life, Ani,” Padmé pointed out. “You could go to school here on Naboo, become a tradesman, or a pilot?”

“Being a Jedi felt like I had a greater purpose. Going back to doing what I did when I was in Watto’s shop just sounds awful. Not every part of being a Jedi was bad. It was just some stuff.”

Padmé moved over and gently hugged him. It was the kind of positive emotions that Anakin had so rarely gotten from the Temple, but he still felt bad. “I’m sorry - I don’t mean to put so much of this on you, Padmé.”

“Nonsense,” Padmé insisted. “You are my friend - and for all the suffering you have had to carry with you, you deserve at the very least basic affection. Now, I believe we have some gardens to look at, Lord Skywalker.”

Anakin couldn’t help but smile.

His mood improved after that, though as soon as he saw it, he stopped dead in his tracks. Padmé had kept on walking, though stopped and turned to see him staring at the item that was behind the glass wall.

Tzai.

The sacred plant of Ar-Amu - over a dozen of them, in fact! - lay, fully blossomed inside of the glass enclosure. From the looks of them, they were already perfectly ripe and ready for picking. Inevitably, they would soon wilt beneath the simulated sunlight and begin the process of seeding and regrowing again soon.

“Ani?” Padmé asked, coming over to his side.

“This plant,” Anakin said, swallowing a lump in his throat. “Why is it here?”

“This?” Padmé asked, curious. She reached into her bag and pulled out a datapad, pressing a few buttons on screen before humming.

“This plant is called aniaré, or royal treasure. It is a desert plant that was first discovered in the Sanhari desert seven-hundred years ago. Horticulturalists have determined that the plant only exists on Naboo - and have also determined that it is toxic and unsuitable for any uses other than purely decorative ones. It received its common name after Queen Téhara, hailing from the province it was discovered in, made it the symbol of her royal house.”

Anakin couldn’t bear to take his eyes off of it.

“That’s what it says - Ani, what’s wrong?” Padmé asked, gently touching the young Jedi’s arm.

Anakin turned to face Padmé, he wasn’t sure what to say - the secrets were the sorts of things that were not shared with offworlders. He did not want to lie to his friend, but the truth could not be spoken - not yet, anyway. Maybe someday, but not today.

One lesson that Qui-Gon had taught him - one that he actually listened to, was the lesson on truth by omission, and he hated that he was going to use it on his friend.

“That plant,” Anakin said at last, turning to look at it again. “is sacred among my people - I was deeply surprised to find that it grows on other worlds.”

“Oh,” Padmé said, looking down at her datapad.

“I’m okay - I just - it was shocking, that’s all,” Anakin hummed. “Can we move on - there’s more flowers to see right, and the other handmaidens are going to start showing up soon?”

Padmé looked up at him, more questions in her eyes than anything, but she seemed to swallow it and nodded. “Okay, Ani,” she said ever-so-gently, smiling at him. “There’s so much more to see - c’mon.”

Chapter Text

Anakin stood idly nearby, wringing his hands almost thoughtlessly as he watched the ship come in for a landing. The handmaidens - Padmé’s friends and confidants - were returning. It was probably soon time for him to depart again, and the more he thought about it, the worse his stomach turned, mutinous at such an idea.

Why did such thoughts fill him with dread? Was this the Force telling him something, or was this just nerves about being back in the Jedi Temple without Qui-Gon to at least shield him from some of the more conservative or reactionary masters who saw his very presence as a defiance of the Code?

He hadn’t asked to be brought to the Temple. All he had ever wanted was to be free. First from slavery, and then again from the rigidity of Master Qui-Gon’s expectations. Now that he was, he had… choice.

Choice was terrifying - it was something he was not accustomed to.

He closed his eyes and reached for the Force, like a child might reach for a safety blanket. The Force came to him and settled around him like an old worn cloak and Anakin allowed himself to breathe deeply - once - twice - three times.

He opened his eyes again and saw that Padmé was approaching with some new faces. “Ani,” she said brightly. “I want you to meet the girls - or well, be at least reintroduced to them. Girls, this is Anakin. You remember, the little boy that blew up the droid ship?”

“Look at you, Anakin, growing up! Pretty dress, by the way. Is that one of Miré’s?” the tall honey-haired girl asked with a smile.

“Um - yes, I had to borrow something. I didn’t have any clothes with me when I got here. It’s a pleasure to meet you again…?”

“Eirtaé,” the girl said with a bow of her own. “I help Padmé and Sabé with clothing alterations and the aesthetics. I hope they haven’t gotten into too much trouble since I’ve been gone.”

“There was an incident at the conference on Bothawui,” Padmé said, glancing back at Anakin. “It is part of the reason Anakin is here - we can talk more about it inside.”

“Right,” Eirtaé said neutrally, giving Anakin another smile.

“Ani - do you remember Saché?” Padmé asked, gesturing at one of the other girls that was in the small group.

Anakin looked at the short brunette closely before blinking. “Oh - you were the girl that kept poking in and looking after me on our return trip from Tatooine!” he said, smiling. “You kept trying to get me to eat protein bars.”

“You were so thin, almost emaciated,” Saché said with a sniff. “You’re still so very thin now - those Jedi don’t feed you enough.”

“I eat plenty,” Anakin protested. “I just - Master Che says I’m like a black hole of food, that I’ve basically got the equivalent immune and digestive system of a fully grown Togruta with how much I can eat and how little I get sick. She thinks by the time I’m fully grown I’ll be nearly 2 meters. Ferus Olin says that couldn’t possibly be true, but I don’t know - I guess it is possible if I keep eating and doing my forms every day.”

“Don’t you worry,” Saché said amusedly. “I’ll make sure you eat - it won’t do for you to end up like Padmé where you stay up all night working and forget to eat breakfast.”

“That was one time,” Padmé hissed with objection.

Anakin was also introduced to Rabé - who mentioned that she’d spoken to Fabé on comm and that the ship with her, Fé and Dané would be arriving late tonight as they’d gotten stuck in customs on Corellia.

“What could Corellia possibly want?” Padmé asked.

“Dané thinks that one of the crewmen was using it as a smuggling vessel - which would explain being stuck in customs,” Rabé said, shrugging theatrically. “So, ah, what’s on the agenda tonight?”

“ Tonight , we have a meeting of the CGC, then I believe Saché is going to prepare a proper dinner for all of us once the other girls arrive,” Padmé said.

“Cor,” Rabé murmured. “I’m going to go catch up on some reading - it was hell trying to read anything on that stupid ship. Who is on-duty during the meeting? Sabé, naturally… but?”

“Anakin,” Padmé replied. “Sabé can cover any protocol-related matters, but Anakin’s abilities as a Jedi may prove handy with our little problem with the cabinet.”

Rabé glanced at Anakin and gave him a scrutinizing look. “Well, hopefully this works out well enough,” she eventually said before turning and walking away.

“What was that about?” Anakin asked, glaring at the retreating girl. “Not like I asked for it.”

“Rabé is just always a bit prickly when it comes to new people,” Padmé reassured him. “She’ll get used to you within a few days, and before you know it, she’ll be cracking very inappropriate jokes at breakfast trying to get you to blow porridge out of your nose. Just ask Sabé how many times she’s managed to pull that off.”

Anakin laughed, before rubbing his neck. “So, um - actually, I had some questions about handmaidening?” he asked quietly.

“I figured you might,” Padmé said with an understanding smile. “Why don’t you and I find some place quiet to talk about that - I’ll answer whatever questions you might have - about what a handmaiden does, how it works these days, and what you might be expected to do since you’ll be standing in as one at tonight’s meeting.”

The meeting actually took place in Padmé’s personal study, which, while not in the apartment, was very close to it.

“I don’t actually use it very often - I hate offices with a burning passion,” Padmé admitted. “Go ahead and sit down - would you like some tea or kaf before we start?”

Anakin blinked. “I should be asking you that - you’re the Queen and I’m the Jedi learner,” he said.

“Right now I’m just Padmé - and you are my friend and guest who is doing me a massive favor,” Padmé retorted. “Now - tea or kaf?”

“Um, kaf, please,” Anakin replied. He certainly felt like he needed a jolt of caffeine - and the only tea he liked was tzai; everything else just tasted like the dirty, stale water he and his mother had been forced to subsist on.

Padmé walked over to one of the chrome-covered machines in the room and pressed a few buttons, and the smell of kaf filled the room as it spit out into a rounded cup. After the machine finished, she brought the cup over to him.

“Now,” Padmé said, sitting down next to him and tossing her hair back. “Handmaidens. Where do I begin? Handmaidens are the closest advisors to the Queen, and are my oath-sworn… well, technically servants.”

Anakin nearly spit out his kaf - but swallowed a painful, hot mouthful. He gave Padmé a suspicious look. “ Servants ?” he echoed. How could he have been so blind as to not see it-

Padmé’s eyes widened. “Not like that! Goodness, no - I would never! I- Goddess, I didn’t even think about how that might sound,” she said quickly, stumbling over her words. “No. They’re not servants in the same sense that you would expect. When someone becomes a handmaiden, they swear an oath of service for the duration of that monarch’s rule - and they devote their whole life during this period to servitude, but if they wish, they can abrogate their oath and leave the service permanently.”

“That still sounds like slavery,” Anakin shot back. It really did - service to one master doing various things for them?

Padmé wilted, looking thoughtful, before looking at him. “It’s not slavery. I promise you that - swear it on all that is holy - they are more like my personal secretaries,” she said firmly. “My job as Queen has so many facets - what do I wear when I go to a certain diplomatic function? What meetings are done in what rooms with which people? Every part of my life is managed by my handmaidens because I can’t function without them. If anything, I am more their slave than they would ever be mine. Without the implicit and explicit trust we have in each other, they could easily take advantage of me to do awful things in my name - or I would get nothing done due to constantly clashing with them!”

She took Anakin’s hands in her own. “Being a handmaiden - making that vow and serving the Queen is seen as a symbol of nobility on Naboo,” she explained. Anakin could see that her words were earnest, and she seemed almost desperate to clear up the misunderstanding. “Those who do it often go on, after their service, and do great things. My predecessor and her handmaidens, two of them went into politics - of which one became chairpersons for their local urban governance committee, and the other is actually a cabinet member now - and several others got full scholarships to university, or entered the planetary defense force as officers.”

“I see,” Anakin murmured.

“Handmaidens are basically my ladies-in-waiting. They help me do my job better,” Padmé repeated. “Each handmaiden typically has a skill she is strongest in that allows her to better serve the Crown and help me. If you’ve noticed already - Saché is an unfathomable genius when it comes to the culinary arts. Rabé is a good strategist and tactician, Eirtaé keeps me from going around the bend over fabrics and swatches and dress designs, Cordé is great at seeing things that most people from upper-class lives wouldn’t and Sabé is the most fantastic organizer in the world. Without her, everything would fall apart.”

She brought her hands together and joined them. “We are, as a whole, Queen Amidala. I may be the person who wears the crown and the robes and the ceremonial paints most of the time, but Queen Amidala as a whole is the sum of all the parts. Does that make sense?”

Anakin leaned forward in his seat and thought about it - it kinda made sense.

“Yeah, I guess,” Anakin said. “Um - kind of like how Master Windu is the elected leader of the Jedi Order, but the Council is still a thing to help decide what missions go to which master-padawan combinations, or other stuff like that.”

“Precisely - the handmaidens are my council,” Padmé said with a smile.

“Okay,” Anakin said with a nod. “What was Rabé talking about, being ‘on-duty’?”

“I don’t always need every handmaiden standing beside me when I’m performing affairs of state,” Padmé explained. “If it is a large gathering, like a diplomatic summit, then depending on the security of the planet in question, I will take a larger retinue. Many of them also serve as clandestine bodyguards, or if I’m feeling overwhelmed, I switch places with Sabé and she pretends to be Amidala for a few hours.”

Padmé sighed. “For some functions, security is handled by the Royal Guard - so all I really need are just some handmaidens who can make sure protocol is followed, or give me the information I need to make an informed decision at a given time. We typically set up rotations for who works what days or events. Tonight, Sabé is on-duty as my primary adjutant. You will also be there as a royal handmaiden, investigating the intent of the various cabinet members.”

“Uh-huh,” Anakin murmured, setting his kaf on the table next to him. “I guess I understand it a bit better now.”

“The handmaidens - they’re my family,” Padmé said with a gentle smile on her face. “We all compliment each other’s strengths, and sand away some of our weaknesses.”

“You? Weak?” Anakin asked, giving her a disbelieving look.

“Ani,” Padmé said chidingly. “I am not perfect. If you can show me a perfect person, I would pay you all the cred chips in the galaxy. Me alone, well, I can be pushy. I forget to bathe, eat or sleep sometimes. I keep anti-anxiety hypos around because I frequently have stress-induced panic attacks. I sometimes struggle with binge eating or skipping meals because of it.”

“Oh,” Anakin said, feeling suitably chastised. How could such well-off and well put together people still suffer like this?

“Needing help - or struggling with something is not a fatal flaw,” Padmé explained gently. “In the five years since you have been freed, have you talked to someone about things like this?”

“No,” Anakin muttered, shaking his head. The pain he was feeling right now was utterly unbearable, and his skin itched. “I guess I haven’t. Padmé, I… I don’t want to be a Jedi anymore. I don’t want to go back.”

“You don’t have to go back,” Padmé said soothingly, scooting over and wrapping her arms around him. “You can stay here - stay with us.”

“I can’t - I- I can’t intrude on your lives. What use do I have here?” Anakin asked, his fingers digging into the skin of his palms.

“Ani - I don’t care about what use you serve,” Padmé said, squeezing him tighter. “That doesn’t matter - it never has, and never will matter so long as you’re here with us. I promise you.”

“I want to be useful,” Anakin said, frowning. “I don’t - I don’t want to be treated like I’m fragile.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Padmé said soothingly. “We’ll figure it out.”

Anakin tensed up and closed his eyes - trying once again to release his anxieties to the Force. He did not have to go back. He was not going to go back. Padmé wanted him - wanted him here.

As Padmé let him go and moved away to give him some space, Anakin stood up and drew his lightsaber from his hip. Activating it, he looked at the blade carefully. The crystal had called to him on Ilum, and it still sang to him now. Jedi or not, he would still be himself, and nothing could take that from him now.

With a swift stroke, his padawan braid fell to the floor, slightly smoking from where the lightsaber burned the edges. Turning his lightsaber off and tucking it back inside the jacket of his dress, he reached down and picked it up, turning the dirty blond braid over in his hands.

He turned to face Padmé. “Can you show me that stuff you were going to show me this morning? The makeup and jewelry? If I’m going to pass as a handmaiden, I should probably look as much like one as I can.”

Padmé gave him a curious look, but nodded her head. “No problem, Ani - come on, I’ll show you.”

…

Padmé watched Anakin carefully as he stood in front of her full-length mirror. Clearly her friend was going through a crisis of self - and she was already starting to feel this tiny inkling of where it was going. He had been so patient and had sat still - breathing deeply and fully as she applied a splash of makeup to his face. His hair was still an absolute mess – the Jedi should be taken to court for what they make their padawans do to their hair – but Anakin wasn’t even paying attention to that. He was too busy looking carefully at his painted face, like it was strange and new.

She supposed it was.

“You were right,” he finally said, turning to look at her, smiling widely. “This does look a lot better.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Padmé responded warmly. If this is what Anakin wanted, she would support her friend without a single iota of doubt. “This whole look is very pretty on you.”

Anakin turned to look at himself in the mirror again, and laughed a bit. “I feel silly, but- but in a good way, I think. I don’t know. I’ve never looked so… opulent before.”

“You’ve never been allowed to look so opulent before,” Padmé clarified with a grin. “And you don’t look silly at all. To be honest with you, Ani, you look like a beautiful young woman.”

“I do, don’t I?” he said curiously. “Well, at least for tonight, I guess.”

…

Padmé lowered herself down into the small throne at the head of the table. The Civilian Governance Council rarely assembled with her in attendance, at least, after the first few weeks following the Trade Federation’s defeat. She had attended those meetings because she had wanted to play an active role in reconstruction, but after a while, she had gone back to trusting her civilian government to do their jobs effectively.

Now, Sio had been making her doubt that these cabinet members were doing their job properly.

To her left, Sabé was standing dutifully at her side, datapad clasped in hand, and on her right…

Anakin was impressively intimidating, despite his shorter stature. With a red robe over his dress and the hood pulled up to cover the upper part of his face, he looked almost like an archangel of death, lingering by the Queen’s side.

She blinked a few times - and pushed those things aside. It was time to be Amidala. As rigorous and unwavering as the bedrock of the planet itself.

“Your Majesty,” Sio Bibble said, rising to his feet. “I speak on behalf of all of us when I say, we welcome your presence at this meeting.”

“Thank you, Governor,” Amidala replied evenly. “We wished to attend this evening to fulfill our constitutional duties to ensure that the civilian government continues to serve the people of Naboo in the capacity in which they were duly chosen.”

“Of course, majesty,” Sio said, bowing briefly, before turning to his papers. “The first item on the agenda - I wish to revisit the portfolio updates submitted by each department last week.”

Anakin moved from her side and began to slowly walk around the table, earning unnerved looks from several of the ministers.

“Majesty,” one such minister said suddenly, wiping some sweat from his brow - hello, Minister of Finance. Why are you sweating so much? Are you afraid? “This is most irregular - intimidation of the Ministers is most inappropriate!”

“Minister,” Anakin replied, pre-empting Amidala. She was rather surprised at Anakin’s voice. His eloquence and accent were nearly immaculate. Anakin was a surprisingly good actor when given a role to play. “My primary role for Her Majesty is to ensure the safety and security of her person and all others in the room with her at any given event. I am merely performing my job. Surely you can understand the need to perform one’s job?”

“Of- of course, my apologies,” the Minister said, shirking away from Anakin who continued his slow, ambling walk around the table. Eventually, he returned to Amidala’s side, though said nothing, merely stood there, stock quiet and still.

Sio began to slowly walk through each ministry’s report, asking a few questions here and there to ensure it was on the up and up. Eventually, the Minister of Economics was called to task.

“Jarré,” Sio began. “In the recent analysis of your report - we have noticed a 2.76 million credit discrepancy between reported tax income and dispensed budgetary line items - we are also noticing several of these line items are very vague and do not explain exactly what their purpose is.”

“Yes, um, Governor - the line items below are merely maintenance items that we have found necessary to fulfill reconstruction efforts on the pla-”

“Liar,” Anakin said quietly, his voice filling the room with an almost ethereal quality, something above and beyond the normal.

“I beg your pardon?” Jarré said, looking up. “I am not- I am not lying!”

“You are,” Anakin replied boredly, his voice magnifying further, like a beam of light through a prism. “You are lying. You see, Minister, there are some of us in the galaxy who can see through lies as if they were made of transparisteel. So, do you wish to continue to lie in front of Her Majesty, or do you wish to tell the truth?”

“There is nothing to admit!” Jarré barked in response, turning slightly red - though the sweat continued to pour in absolute buckets down his face. The man was clearly lying, and was doing a good job of resisting whatever it was that Anakin was doing. Even she felt this yearning desire to tell the truth. “Majesty, I must insist you muzzle your creature! This is an overstepping of your constitutional rights as sovereign!”

The tension in the room escalated to a significant degree. The already stirring energy and emotion exploded like a supernova, filling the room with an absolute palpable heat. Even Amidala could feel it stirring like the spring monsoon, and she knew where the source was from. She glanced at Anakin, whose jaw was tight and flexing with anger.

What was he doing?

Amidala turned to face Jarré, hoping that her disgust was plainly written on her face. “Our constitutional rights, Minister? We would like to know where in the Constitution does it say that the monarch cannot participate in these meetings, and where a member of the royal party cannot point out lies and deceit when she sees it?”

Amidala gestured lazily to Anakin. “She is a trusted member of our retinue - and has her own ways of ensuring the truth of matters are brought to light,” she said simply. “Do you insist upon continuing to dishonor the Naboo and my presence with your bigoted, unsightly remarks?”

“I’ve heard enough,” Sio said, pressing a button underneath his seat at the table. The door to the meeting room immediately opened, and three guards stepped in. Sio gestured to Jarré. “Guards, arrest that man.”

“You can’t do this to me!” Jarré protested as he was grabbed by the guards. “You bastards!”

After Jarré had been dragged out, Sio took a deep breath. “Now,” he said simply. “All our cards are laid out on the table. There is one other report in this stack that has been called into question - and I hope that the person who is responsible will be willing to tell the truth and not lie.”

He reached into the stack and pulled out the second report. “Minister Palat,” he said gently, looking up at an older woman. “Your agricultural report was forwarded over to the University of Theed and the University of Agartan, and both came to the conclusion that the crop yields you predicted in this document cannot simply be true, considering the current climatological outlook and all factors involved. I would ask you to explain yourself.”

Minister Palat adjusted her glasses and bowed her head. “The figures are embellished, Governor. I- when I received my original reports from the Farm Bureau, I did not want to cause a public panic by releasing the figures I received. There is likely to be a food shortage this winter - and - I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to cover it up.”

Sio rubbed his face. “Why would you? Was this a political ploy, or was it just fear?”

“Both,” the Minister admitted. Sio, the Minister, and even Amidala glanced at Anakin. Anakin merely nodded his head once and gestured for her to continue. “I thought - if I could come up with ideas on how to fix it before the harvest, it would be fine. But then I also thought - if I came up with this idea, I could use it to propel myself to the Governorship. It was greed - and cowardice - please - please forgive me.”

“Onéka,” Sio said gently. “You have served the Naboo for many decades - through much hardship, but I am afraid that I must insist on your resignation. Right now - you have dishonored your position, and dishonored the Naboo with your lies.”

Onéka rose to her feet, turned to face Amidala and bowed deeply. “Please accept my resignation, effective immediately, Your Majesty.”

“Accepted,” Amidala replied. “You are dismissed, Madam Palat. The guards will escort you to the gates of the Palace, and provide you transport to your home.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” the sacked woman replied, bowing again before leaving in a hurry.

“We must do better,” Sio said to the intimidated and assembled ministers. “We are the people who serve the people. We cannot allow for personal greed and avarice to get in the way of building Naboo up to a greater position than where it was five years ago when we were attacked by the Trade Federation. We must look outward - and build ties to planets who have suffered like us. We shall begin new work today, hopefully free of this dishonor.”

Amidala leaned back in her chair, and watched the rest of the meeting in silence, though she frequently glanced back at Anakin - the tension in his jaw hadn’t left, and the tension in his shoulders and arms left her feeling no small amount of concern.

…

Anakin didn’t want to talk - he didn’t want to be asked questions, he just wanted to go some place where he could be left alone. However, one of the things he never realized about being around people who cared was that they were never willing to just let things settle.

The walk back to the royal apartments was silent - not tense, perhaps, but silent.

The silence prevailed as they re-entered the apartments.

“Ani,” Padmé suddenly said as Anakin made for the stairs. Anakin stopped in place and turned back to look at her. “We should talk about what happened.”

Anakin slumped, before turning and starting to go back up the stairs. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Anakin,” Padmé insisted. He could hear her striding her best to keep up with him - limited by her ornate dress. He reached Miré’s door and rushed inside before being soon joined by the others.

“Ani, you can’t keep running - we need to talk about this!” Padmé insisted. “What the Minister did was awful and bigoted, but - you have to let those things go. People are going to be awful - but you must be better and not… not use the Force to bend them to your will.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Anakin shot back, scowling. “These noblemen, they think they’re so much better than everyone else. I was always held in place by my chains or by the Jedi Code - now I don’t have to let people do that to me anymore.”

“You’re allowed to be angry, but the only way to overcome people like that and their stupid, odious opinions is to rise above and not fall prey to their games. It isn’t good to harbor so much anger inside of yourself - and using your powers like that is highly risky. It could have gone very bad very quickly. Honestly, Ani, I’m rather concerned about your mental health if that confrontation was able to do that to you.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, Anakin, you’re not,” Padmé insisted. “You never saw healers with the Jedi. You lived the first nine years of your life as a slave, then another five under the rigidity of the Jedi Order - I will support you if you don’t want to do that anymore, but you must talk to someone, and work through your problems.”

“It’s not like I’m a damaged droid or something,” Anakin said, turning away from Padmé. “If this is a problem, I can just go - I can get a job as a mechanic somewhere. They’re not going to demand I stop being angry - just like the fucking Jedi.”

“Ani,” Padmé said softly. “I don’t want you to leave - I want you to be healthy and happy with your choices. You have trauma, Ani.”

Anakin wanted to respond, but didn’t. He just sat there stonily, staring at the wall. He wasn’t broken. He wasn’t damaged.

“Pads,” Sabé said gently, hooking her hand through Padmé’s arm. “Let’s give him some space.”

There was a beat of silence. “Fine,” Padmé said shortly.

Anakin could feel them both leave the room - and the door closed behind them. He was alone again.

Alone was good.

He took a deep breath, and let it out - shuddering.

‘Your emotional control is abysmal, Anakin. You must learn to control yourself, learn to be the Jedi I know you can be. If you wish to be a Jedi Knight someday, to balance the Force, you cannot let your anger lead you to foolish decisions. Do you understand me? You must be better, or you will surely fail.’

Anakin unclipped his lightsaber from his jacket and roughly pitched it against the wall in anger. The powerful impact caused the outer facia of the lightsaber to crack - forming a deep gash right up the hilt, exposing the blue glow of the kyber crystal. The resonance in the Force of his crystals crying in pain at the sudden burst of anger snuffed it out in Anakin, who sunk down to his knees, rapidly going from fury to guilt.

Was he broken? Was this always what he was destined to do? Fail at everything? Maybe he should’ve gotten blown up with Qui-Gon, then he wouldn’t feel as miserable as he was feeling right now…

He wasn’t sure how long he decided to lay on his bed, feeling miserable - but eventually the tug of an empty stomach roused him from the bed. Climbing to his feet, he looked at himself in the mirror, smoothed out the front of his dress, and decided to go downstairs. He could apologize to Padmé, and maybe things would be fine.

Maybe.

Eirtaé was doing a needlepoint on one of the loveseats, while Rabé and Sabé were both playing dejarik - Padmé was nowhere to be seen, but Anakin figured she was probably helping in the kitchen.

Sabé looked up as he reached the bottom of the stairs, catching his eye before she flashed him a soft, sympathetic smile before turning back to her game. The guilt in his stomach continued to pool, but he pushed forward, reaching the door to the kitchen. Pushing it open, he found Padmé pounding something - a dough of some kind with ferocity while Saché looked on with amusement.

Saché looked at him before gently resting her hand on Padmé’s back and whispering something to her - Padmé stopped and slowly turned around, and Anakin felt something taut in him, this tension of guilt and anguish snap, and he practically threw himself into her, all resolve and strength melting away. He’d cried more in the last few days than he’d had in years.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed through the tears - he knew that Padmé was smearing flour all over him as her arms looped around him protectively, but he didn’t care. He didn’t fucking care anymore.

“There is nothing to apologize for,” Padmé said gently. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I know,” Anakin muttered, burrowing into her neck. “You’re right. I’m broken, I just, I don’t know how to make it better.”

“You’re not broken,” Padmé insisted. “Anakin, look at me.”

Anakin gently pulled his head away from her, and she gently nudged his chin up to look at her eyes. “Ani - you are one of the bravest people I’ve ever met in my life. On that day, in that shop, you had owed us nothing. We were strangers from another world, and you offered us shelter when we needed it, and put your life on the line so we could make our way off of Tatooine. You didn’t hesitate - not once - when you leapt into the cockpit of that N-1 fighter and destroyed that droid control ship. You have shown so much courage in your life. It is not wrong to need help now. You have people here who love you - yes, love you - and we will do anything we can to see you smile and be happy. You’re part of our family now, whether you wish to be or not.”

“Do you mean that?” Anakin asked.

“I do.”

Anakin buried his head in her shoulder again, taking deep breaths. “I want to be a handmaiden.”

“Ani?”

“I want - I don’t want to be on my own,” Anakin admitted. “I don’t want to do pointless, dumb things. I want to do something that has purpose. I liked helping you today, even if - even if it didn’t go well.”

“Ani, you don’t have to be my handmaiden to stay with me,” Padmé said patiently.

“I want to,” Anakin replied softly.

“Then you can,” Padmé said gently. “You understand you’ll have to adopt a name like mine, right?”

“I’ll be Aniaré - like the flower,” he insisted. The Force seemed to shake with amusement - and pride - at the revelation. It all comes back to the source, doesn’t it?

“Royal treasure,” Padmé said warmly. “A lovely name for you. You should freshen up before dinner - you’re covered in flour and your makeup is smeared, Ani.”

A laugh bubbled up from Aniaré’s chest and he ran a hand through his hair. “I know,” he said amusedly. “I’m sorry. This was always the thing the Jedi criticized me for. Emotional control. Stuff like that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Padmé insisted. “The Jedi were wrong to have you deny your emotions for so long. Now, go clean up, and have Eirtaé find you something to wear. You shouldn’t need to dress for a formal affair all the time. We can talk tomorrow about getting a wardrobe put together for you… and I want you to talk to a therapist, okay?”

“Okay,” Aniaré replied.

Maybe it just had to get better from here.

Chapter Text

The days and weeks sped past from that point. For Aniaré, going through the process of adapting to the new normal of life was the biggest part of it. Seeing a therapist to help Ani through the ‘various psychological traumas’ experienced across life as a slave and then as a Jedi trainee, taking lessons in various school subjects, and then hobbies.

Hobbies in particular were a point of contention for Ani because Padmé insisted that the young teenager spend at least some weekends doing things that weren’t completely solitary or violence-focused. As much as Ani wanted to spend more time than anything doing mechanics like tinkering with droids and messing with speeders and the trainee starfighter sitting in the hangar for Ani to train on before getting a full-sized fighter of his own; there was also shooting practice with Cordé on the firing range, too. She always loved walking Ani through the vintage blasters and slugthrowers she had and explaining - in great detail - how they worked.

However - per Padmé’s insistence, some weekends for Ani included virtual art classes or flower arranging classes (apparently Naboo had a language that could be expressed entirely in flower arranging), among other things.

Handmaiden duty wasn’t too bad, either. That being said, there were some parts that Aniaré found himself contending with. Much like the first time he’d presented before officials and delegates as a handmaiden, he had almost exclusively been referred to as ‘she’. It wasn’t as if it was unexpected. Despite Naboo’s more liberated views on gender, people who walked around in heels and a dress oftentimes got referred to with feminine pronouns.

Aniaré didn’t bother correcting them either - if they believed him to be someone unrelated to the Jedi Padawan that he used to be, then all the better. That mindset came to a head about a month after Aniaré had arrived.

Padmé came across her newest handmaiden once more sitting in front of the portrait of Queen Tamarai.

“Ani?” she asked, curiously. “Back here again? Did your appointment with Doctor Sung not go well?”

“It went fine,” Aniaré said with a handwave. “We talked a lot - and I’m just thinking about what we talked about.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Padmé asked curiously.

“Well,” Aniaré said nervously. “Would you be disappointed if I didn’t think I was really a boy?”

“I wouldn’t be disappointed at all,” Padmé said gently, coming to sit next to the young handmaiden. “You wanted to be a handmaiden and you’ve done a fantastic job thus far. So if you say you’re not really a boy, then I believe you.”

“I told Doctor Sung that I never thought about gender identity or stuff like that. As a slave you were whatever your master assigned to you. There were plenty of… pleasure girls who had similar stuff to me down there. As a Jedi, it was slightly more obvious, but other than Master Qui-Gon, nobody cared about gender either. Robes were robes. Now that I’m here, there’s so many other things to think about when it comes to gender, and I’ve been getting called ‘she’ or ‘they’ by so many people who don’t know what I am underneath all the dresses.”

“So you’re a girl, then?” Padmé asked.

“I don’t know - maybe? Sort of? I kind of want to be both, I guess, or something that’s in between the two. Being called ‘she’ by people feels… better, I guess, than being called a boy though - he and him. Stuff like that. I was thinking, maybe I want to be like Tamarai.”

“Like Tamarai?” Padmé questioned.

“Yeah,” Aniaré hummed. “I would like that. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Padmé said gently. “Aniaré is a handmaiden, and she is one of my best friends. She has suffered so much, and yet has endured in spite of it.”

“Oh,” Aniaré breathed. She couldn’t help but grin. “That sounds lovely, actually.”

…

Padmé’s comm began to chirp loudly and insistently, cutting off the witty back-and-forth dialog going on between the dashing and bold Lady Jedi and the bandit she had captured. Padmé groaned as she paused the film and reached for her comm - popping it open and looking at the message that had been sent to her.

“Oh dear,” she murmured, eyebrows shooting up.

“What’s wrong, Pads?” Sabé asked curiously.

“There is an unexpected visitor seeking an immediate audience with the Queen.”

“At this time of night?” Aniaré asked with a yawn.

“He says it is a matter most urgent,” Padmé murmured. “Oh my - he claims to be Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Aniaré asked, her head popping up almost immediately from where she was resting against one of the pillows in her seat. “Really? I haven’t seen him in years. Not since he left the Order. What could he want?”

“I don’t know - should we receive him?” Padmé asked. “You know him the best of all of us.”

“I don’t know him that well at all,” Aniaré said idly. “I knew him for maybe a few months before he decided to leave the Order altogether. He and Qui-Gon were butting heads constantly and me becoming Qui-Gon’s padawan and everything… but I guess it couldn’t hurt. I’m not getting any weird vibes from this, so… the Force says you’re probably okay to talk to him.”

“I would like Cordé and you present when we receive him - in case we need to subdue him,” Padmé said thoughtfully. “Eirtaé, will you help me get into some less ornate robes? I’ll receive him as Amidala but I don’t want to dress like I’m going before the vedics or Council.”

“Of course,” Eirtaé said with a nod. “Let’s go, girls.”

…

Ani was doing her best to maintain a neutral expression and presence in the Force as the doors to the throne room opened, admitting a rather shabby-looking figure dressed in a long coat and scuffed-up armor. The ginger hair was familiar, though Obi-Wan had definitely grown an impressive beard since the last time she’d seen him.

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” Obi-Wan said, bowing at the hip in the hurried fashion she vaguely remembered him doing quite often in the Temple. “I apologize for the urgency in which I requested this meeting, but I am afraid I don’t have many other places to turn to.”

“We are curious what it is that could require such an urgency, Mister Kenobi,” Amidala replied curiously. Ani was curious too - Obi-Wan from her memories was always a deliberate and slightly ‘teachers pet’-ish kind of person, for him to insist on breaking the rigorous protocol and insist on seeing the Queen with such urgency, it must be very important.

“Since leaving the Jedi Order, I have made it my personal mission to scour the galaxy for further evidence of the Sith menace we initially encountered here, and to discover the history of the Jedi outside of the Order itself. During some various odd jobs I conducted through this time, I found myself working alongside a Mandalorian freelancer named Jango Fett. Jango has been… instrumental in finding out some disturbing information that requires immediate investigation.”

“And that information is?” Amidala asked, a hint of impatience in her voice. Ani could feel her emotions slowly turning towards irritation. She completely agreed, they were having a good night and this guy was ruining it with random rambling about a Mandalorian mercenary. Like those were rare - she’d seen over a dozen of ‘em when she was a slave.

“There is an army of clones being assembled on the planet of Kamino,” Obi-Wan said without preamble.

Ani blinked in surprise. An army of clones? Was such a thing even possible? Was Obi-Wan kind of around the bend, or something?

“That is a bold claim to make,” Amidala said, her irritation mild and tempered with curiosity. “How do you know this?”

“Jango was paid to be the template of the clones,” Obi-Wan replied. “He has witnessed the cloning chambers and tubes, though he is not sure what would require such a large army of clones. What is even more concerning, is that I determined that there is Sith involvement. A Sith lord named Tyrannus - I don’t know if he is the master or the apprentice at this point - placed compulsions on Jango’s mind. These pieces point to something very insidious going on, but I don’t have enough information to go straight to the Jedi.”

“Why not?” Amidala asked, eyebrows raised. “The Jedi would be more capable of investigating a matter such as this - as it is, this is not directly related to the Naboo so my abilities are limited.”

“The Jedi do not trust easily - nor do they provide trust back to those who left their ranks for various reasons,” Obi-Wan said uneasily. That was actually a reasonable take. The Jedi were very insular and hostile to outsiders. It was the one thing about them that she didn’t even need to try to understand. It was just like her people, fundamentally.

“I first attempted to speak about this matter to Duchess Satine of Mandalore, but she was unable to help due to the political implications - particularly after the recent incident on Bothawui,” Obi-Wan explained uneasily.

“Indeed,” Amidala said evenly. “So you’re here to ask for our support in your investigation?”

“It would not require a substantial fee - much as I am no longer a Jedi, I still do not believe in taking more than is absolutely necessary to complete my mission.”

“You are asking quite a lot from the Naboo,” Amidala pointed out. “To provide unaccountable expenses to a bounty hunter with barely any leads on a galactic-level crisis that bears no direct correlation to our realm?”

“Your Majesty, I do not wish to sound ungrateful, but my master and I provided some very key aid to the Naboo. Is this such a large price compared to what we did for you once?”

Amidala sat silently for a bit before nodding. “Alright, Mister Kenobi. You will have our support - provisionally, of course. You will be solely in the employ of the Naboo. During the duration of our contract, you will take no other contracts unless pre-cleared. As long as your budget is within a reasonable request, it shall be yours.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Obi-Wan said, bowing again. “One last request, ma’am. The incident in Bothawui. I understand that Master Qui-Gon was killed there in an explosion. Have you heard much about Anakin Skywalker’s whereabouts since then? The few people in the Jedi Temple I still speak to have mentioned that he never returned from Bothawui, but also that his body was never recovered from the wreck.”

Ani was surprised he cared so much. It wasn’t as if they were particularly close before he’d fucked off to play mercenary.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “I was never particularly fond of him at first, but I still - he was a child, and I know Qui-Gon can be quite demanding and controlling and I suppose I’m getting a bit sentimental in my old age-” he started rambling, babbling some, stopping only when Amidala raised her hand.

“Peace, Mister Kenobi,” Amidala said gently. “I can assure you-”

“I’m doing just fine,” Ani spoke up for the first time, pulling her hood back. She certainly didn’t look like the boyish padawan she’d been six weeks ago. Her hair was growing out again, tickling her ears and shoulders, and she was rarely ever without makeup at this point, but still.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, surprised.

“Aniaré, actually,” Ani said, rocking on her heels. “You can call me Ani though, if you want.”

“Ani,” Obi-Wan said agreeably, bowing his head. “I am very happy to see you in good health. Are you in the service of Queen Amidala now?”

“I am,” Ani replied, before glancing at the Queen who gave her a minute nod. She smiled back at Amidala and began to move down the steps of the throne towards Obi-Wan. “She and the handmaidens have shown me incredible kindness these last six weeks. I realized, after Master Qui-Gon was gone, that I did not want to remain with the Jedi.”

“I understand,” Obi-Wan said with a nod. “I apologize for how I treated you back then. It wasn’t right.”

“That was five years ago, Obi-Wan,” Ani said gently. “You’re forgiven - long forgiven, in fact.”

“Mister Kenobi,” Amidala said. “Perhaps we should speak more personally tomorrow? You may stay here in a guest suite for the evening. I’m sure you have flown quite far over the last few days.”

“I haven’t had much sleep, no,” Obi-Wan said amusedly.

Ani could tell with the dark shade under his eyes and the tired lines that he hadn’t stopped for anything since leaving Mandalore. That was at least a four day trip unless you really stressed your hyperdrive to the limit.

“How much have you slept in the last few days?” Ani asked, frowning.

“A few hours,” Obi-Wan admitted. “I will gladly accept your offer, Majesty. I could use a good night’s rest.”

“Then we shall adjourn this meeting until the morning. You may join my retinue for breakfast, and we shall further discuss this situation then. Captain Typho will escort you to your room.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan bowed, before turning and joining Captain Typho. As soon as both had gone, Ani made a noise and walked up towards the throne where Amidala - Padmé now, given the look on her face, and Sabé were waiting.

“What are you feeling, Ani?” Padmé asked curiously.

“I don’t feel anything bad from Obi-Wan,” Ani said with a shake of her head. “The situation is very weird, though to me. It seems important enough. I don’t know if giving him all the creds he needs will fix it, but I think the future hinges on something about this.”

“I only wish the Force was more precise,” Padmé complained, frowning. “Alright - I need to go shower again to get this war paint off my face, and then we can go watch the last half of the movie.”

“You just want to see that actress’ thighs again,'' Ani teased. “You know that the Jedi don’t dress like that right? Well, except for Aaylas’ecura, but that’s a personal choice.”

“Don’t rain on my parade, Ani,” Padmé responded simply, grinning at her. “Let me have my fantasies.”

Ani rolled her eyes.

…

Ben Kenobi was, to put it mildly, way out of his element. Which was surprising, considering that he hadn’t had an element in nearly five years. Being in such a domestic situation surrounded by a host of young women, with a cup of hot kaf in front of him… this was not the sort of life he had seen for himself after leaving the Order.

“Pardon my rudeness, ah, Padmé, but will Ani be joining us this morning?” he asked curiously, looking at the empty spot to the left of the teenage Queen.

“Ani arrives late to breakfast all the time,” one of the other girls - Ben vaguely recalled her name being Cordé? said in a low voice. “You show the girl one fashion holozine and she becomes a perfectionist on her outfit each day.”

“That isn’t fair, Cordé,” the subject of their conversation interjected from the bottom of the stairs. “I’m still learning how all this stuff works. I’m really not that bad.”

“I’m just teasing,” Cordé said fondly.

“Yeah, I know,” Ani replied with a roll of her eyes, sitting down next to Padmé. She hugged the older girl tightly. “G'morning, Padmé.”

Padmé grinned, returning the hug in equal measure. “Good morning, dear one. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, slept fine,” Ani said with a smile. “Is Saché makin’ breakfast?”

“Sabé’s helping her today, but yes,” Padmé said with a nod.

Ani yawned, rubbing at her eyes before Sabé emerged from the kitchen, holding a cup of kaf. “I thought I heard your voice, Ani.”

“Thanks, Sabé,” Ani said brightly, accepting the cup and taking a drink from it. “You’re the best.”

“Did’ya hear that, Padmé? I bring her kaf and she thinks I’m the best,” Sabé said teasingly, sticking her tongue out.

“Sabé!” Padmé said, scandalized - though Ben could tell it wasn’t genuine admonishment. If anything, it almost reminded him of a married couple, with the sort of snappy repartee they had with each other. He wasn’t sure what the relationship was between the two, but it seemed like a very good environment for Ani.

“You are all my favorites, actually. I could never possibly pick just one,” the child in question said teasingly.

Ani - Force above. The child was doing much better than he had anticipated. Every day from the moment he’d left Coruscant’s orbit, he had been kicking himself for leaving Anakin to be molded into yet another anxiety-ridden overgrown Padawan like him. Qui-Gon was a fool’s version of a fool and he had been so self-absorbed and upset about his master abandoning him for some new child…

Five years living from the land and flying around the Rim doing mercenary work changes a person’s perspective, all things considered.

When the food was finally served, Saché had given him an apologetic look. “I hope you’re able to stomach spice, Mister Kenobi,” she said evenly.

“Ben, please,” Ben replied evenly. “I can handle spice far better now than I did when I was an impetuous padawan. My associate has introduced me to a wonderful world of things that the Jedi Order never considered edible, let alone delicious.”

When the meal was done, Padmé took a deep breath. “Ben,” she said gently. “We should discuss your employment and terms therein more, but I am required this morning to attend a meeting with the Governor. I hope this is not too much of an imposition on you.”

“I understand,” Ben said, bowing his head. “and no, it is not.”

“That’s alright - it will give Ben and I a chance to catch up,” Ani said with a grin.

…

“I actually planned on doing some maintenance on my training fighter today,” Ani said as she opened the door to her bedroom quickly. “I’ll just need to change a couple of things, and I’ll be right out - feel free to sit wherever, if you want.”

“Are you sure this is alright, Ani?” Ben asked carefully.

“You’ve given me no reason to not trust you thus far, Ben, and you’re basically like a cousin - or a brother, I guess,” Ani said thoughtfully as she walked over to a sizable sliding door. She pressed the button, revealing the entrance to what looked to be a sizable walk-in closet. “I’ll be out in just a minute!”

She disappeared inside, the door closing behind her, leaving Ben alone.

Ben glanced around the room. The room looked, in many ways, to belong to a very normal teenage girl. He hadn’t even thought about the possibility that the child from Tatooine that his master had freed wasn’t really a little boy at all, really. Though he noticed with some amusement that Ani’s desk was absolutely littered with flimsiplast notes scrawled in hurried Huttese, Basic and Nubaé, with various datapads tossed around haphazardly.

Ben chuckled - she must have learned this sort of disorganized chaos from Qui-Gon. Everything seemed to be anarchy but his old master always knew where everything he owned was at any given time. It was an interesting gift of foresight and clarity that Ani must also share.

Ben’s gaze drifted up, and it stopped on the shelf above the young woman’s desk. Sitting upon a small display next to some books on royal protocol, the language of flowers among other items, was a lightsaber - or at least, what remained of a lightsaber.

Ben reached up and gently picked the lightsaber up, turning it over in his hand. It had a deep, awful gash down the side of it. The kyber crystal remained, but it seemed to be quieted down - sleeping, almost, waiting for its true master… or mistress, really, to once again take it in hand again.

“Didn’t take you long to find that, huh?”

Ben turned on heel to see Ani giving him an amused look. She looked like an extremely young and motivated ship engineer, what with the tan singlet jumpsuit with the upper part tied around her waist, and the white undershirt that had some aged oil stains and discolored marks on it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Ben said apologetically. “You kept your lightsaber?”

“I did,” Ani replied evenly, turning towards the vanity table and grabbing something off of it - it appeared to be hair pins. She pinned her hair back behind her ears and out of her face, before grabbing a container off the vanity and sitting on the bed. “Only as a reminder of where I came from, though.”

Ben set the lightsaber back in its resting place and walked over to where Ani was fiddling with the container. It popped open, revealing six hypos lined up inside of the fabric inset. She plucked one up and sighed. “I’m not a fan of needles, but the healers said this is the best way to do this,” she muttered with a slight hint of irritation.

“Best way to do what?” Ben asked, curious. Was Ani sick?

Ani rolled her shirt up, exposing her stomach. She plunged the hypo down into the flesh of her belly, a wince crossing her face. She pulled the hypo back out and placed the expended one back in the container, along with its brothers.

“Hormone blocker,” Ani muttered, rubbing the place she’d stabbed herself in the gut. “I tried to talk them into letting me take capsules or patches, but apparently my biology is just weird enough to where it means that the only way of doing it that is approved by the Naboo Board of Medicine is injection. The only group in the galaxy who’d know more about how to help me with this are the Jedi, but…”

“You’d rather not let them know you are still alive and about in the galaxy,” Ben finished for her, earning a nod from the young woman.

“Exactly,” she said thoughtfully, tucking her shirt back into her jumpsuit and zipping it up and over. “The good news is that the healers are already talking about setting me up with a regimen of estrogen and some other stuff that’ll let me go through puberty the right way.”

“And that’s what you want?” Ben asked - he hoped that he wasn’t coming off as bigoted, he was merely curious.

Ani seemed to pick up that because the stare she gave him lacked any judgment or condemnation. “Yes,” she replied firmly. “I’m kind of a girl, kind of not a girl, but I know I’d rather look more like Padmé and the girls than… Well, you, no offense, Ben.”

“None taken,” Ben said thoughtfully, stroking his beard with a smile. “I’ll admit it took me quite some time to get used to having a beard. Jango tells me I look quite distinguished with one.”

“Oh sure,” Ani said with a laugh, reaching down to slip a pair of brown work boots on and tie them. “Now, I really need to go down to the hangar. You can tag along if you want. Do you have much experience in mechanics?”

“Some, mostly what I have picked up by osmosis,” Ben admitted. “But - if I can ask. Do you ever intend to use it again?”

“What, the lightsaber?” Ani asked, glancing at the thing on the shelf. She hummed, before standing up and heading for the door. “It would depend on the circumstances.”

Ben blinked, following her out of the door and down the stairs. She didn’t speak again until they’d left the royal apartment and were heading down towards the hangar bay.

“I still practice with swords and knives, but not lightsabers,” Ani explained gently. “I broke the lightsaber hilt after a particularly… emotional experience a few weeks back. I’m still not a hundred percent over it, but the therapy and- and figuring out that a lot of my anger was misplaced dysphoria has been helping. I decided that until I can trust myself to… wield it without anger, then I shall leave it as a reminder of the danger of being who I am.”

She took a deep breath, seemingly mulling over her words with a certain degree of moroseness. “I chose to leave the Jedi, Ben, but I am not someone who has been trained to the level of you or any of the other Lost, and I’ve never… held to the Jedi line like you all have because that wasn’t what I was born into. So, ultimately…”

“I understand,” Ben said gently. “I will admit, I have missed my lightsaber dearly over the years. Learning to only rely on blasters and vibroblades has been an adjustment.”

“There’s nothing that could stop you from making a new one,” Ani pointed out.

“Kyber crystals are not exactly common, child,” Ben said, eyebrows raised. “I cannot go to Ilum as I am not a Jedi.”

“Hang Ilum,” Ani said with a grimace. “Cold ass planet. No, why don’t you just make one?”

“A synthetic crystal?” Ben asked, aghast. “Ani, has anybody ever explained why that is not… something you do?”

“Qui-Gon once said that making a synthetic kyber crystal was an affront to nature, and was defiling the Force in a way that only the Sith could stoop so low as to do,” Ani said flippantly, waving her hand as if dismissing something that smelled foul. “But, my question is this. If an artificial kyber crystal is an affront to all that is good and natural in the Living Force, then what about droids?”

“What about them?” Ben asked, confused.

“They’re sentient beings created without the use of organic material. They’re made of duranium, vibrosteel, ferrium, whatever you want. What makes them not an affront to nature?”

“They don’t have the Force channeled through them,” Ben replied back. He was relatively sure that droids couldn’t be Force sensitive.

Could they?

“Are you sure about that?” Ani asked, eyebrows raised, as if she weren’t convinced by his argument. “The Force makes no distinction between natural and unnatural, otherwise the Jedi you and I have both seen in our lives who have prosthetics would be hindered in their ability.”

“That is different,” Ben defended, though his heart wasn’t in it. How could a, what, fourteen year old make so much fucking sense where generations of Jedi Masters fell plain short? “Though I see your point.”

“Thank you,” Ani said brightly. “I think you should at the very least consider it.”

“What about the parts?” Ben asked mildly. “I’ve not seen lightsaber parts anywhere in all the places I’ve been these last few years. You’d think by now I’d have stumbled across them at some point.”

“Ben, you’ve come a long way towards becoming an absolutely feral Outer Rim gremlin like me,” Ani said with a sharp grin. “But you and I both know that sometimes you still come across like a naïve Jedi. Your friend Jango has been working on that, I’m sure.”

Ben’s ears reddened as he remembered Jango tutting at him for the billionth time.

‘You must be more careful, Ben. Your past is not easily discarded, and you still make careless mistakes like a jetii.’

“They don’t show you things like that because they’re afraid you’re an undercover Jedi,” Ani said truthfully. “As you build up your reputation among bounty-hunters and mercenaries, you will find there is much in the galaxy open to you that isn’t to others.”

“Mildly disturbing,” Ben admitted.

“But the truth,” Ani retorted as they arrived at the hangar. She opened the door with a simple code and stepped through the doors, Ben still chewing on their conversation as they passed by rows of ships of various make and model before he nearly walked into her.

“There she is,” Ani said with a grin, and Ben looked up. It was a ship that looked like it had seen better days, but the splashes of yellow, blue and white on it clearly indicated to whom it belonged.

“This is your ship?”

“It’s my training ship,” Ani clarified. “Padmé and Captain Typho say I’m still too young to pilot an N-1 all on my own - even with Artoo in the navpit, but they promised that if I can clear both civilian and military pilot testing when I turn sixteen, they will let me fly whatever I damn well please.”

She gestured to another ship in the hangar, partially obscured by a large tarp. “That’s my actual ship. Or will be, someday. It’s the N-1 Starfighter I took up into space during the battle. You remember, right?”

Ben recalled that day as clearly as ever. It was the day he’d nearly lost his master, after all, and it had been the day that his illusions of things in the Order ever being the same had shattered into sugar glass.

“They let you keep it?” Ben asked curiously.

“Yeah. Theed’s city government wanted to take it and put it in a museum dedicated to the struggles of the occupation, but Padmé bought the fighter off the planetary defense force outright not long after I decided to stay here for good. Instead they settled for just building an even bigger statue of me in the park downtown.”

“There’s a statue of you?”

“Of us, actually,” Ani said with a laugh. “A statue of Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn, right there in the park downtown, for everyone to see.”

“Oh Force,” Ben said, feeling absolutely mortified. “Why?”

“People like their heroes, Ben,” Ani said with a smirk. “It gives them hope, and other stuff like that.”

She left it on that, before walking over to the toolbox and popping it open, rummaging around for things, pulling out a number of tools.

“If you want to stay and help, you can,” Ani said as she walked past him again, ducking underneath the fighter. “I’m mostly just doing some routine maintenance, checking the coolant lines, exhaust ports, and other mechanical minutiae. I just took her out on a test flight over the Sanhari desert last week, but this ship is very old and has been very heavily used, so I don’t like to let it sit for too long without at least checking the essentials.”

“Certainly,” Ben said. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

…

The sound of beeping stirred Ani from her thoughts as she recalibrated the exhaust ports’ plasma flow. Wiping a grease-covered hand on the nearby towel, she reached over and looked at her communicator.

“Wow, we’ve been busy all morning,” she said with a laugh, before glancing at Ben who was arm-deep in one of the armor plates, a look of concentration on his face. “Ben!”

“One second,” Ben said. “This wiring harness is buried so deep inside of this plate that I’m - I’m having a spot of trouble reaching it.”

“Here, let me see,” Ani said, snapping the exhaust port cover back on and coming over to Ben, who had pulled his arm back out of the plating. She shined her light into it and let out a hum.

“The pins are slightly bent on the harness - not your fault, there’s a reason these stupid things got retired,” she said with a grumble, handing her light to him. “Hold the light while I fix it.”

He aimed the light nearly perfectly, as she reached both of her arms into the gap and started gently nudging the pins back into position before connecting it back up.

“Whew,” she said, relieved. “I still have to test to make sure that relay is working, that’s for… ugh, yeah, the fucking navcomputer,” she muttered. “No worries. I’ll test it later, it shouldn’t need any significant replacements, but if I don’t have to dismantle parts of this ship just to get to that, all the better.”

She set her spanner down and popped the armor plate back on, before glancing at Ben. “Care for some lunch, Ben?” she asked curiously.

“Delightful, yes, please,” Ben said genially. She was finding herself actually liking this guy. They hadn’t gotten off to the best start when they were both vulnerable kids looking for validation from Master Qui-Gon, but now that they were here - as independent people, with that particular greasy-haired concern not hovering over them?

They actually had a rapport! Curious!

After getting her workspace back into a semblance of order, she and Ben moved to leave the hangar.

“I never asked,” Ani spoke up, curiosity tickling her stomach. “What kind of ship do you fly, Ben? You say you go all over the galaxy, right?”

“YT-1000,” Ben replied amusedly. “It wasn’t the first ship I had, but it’s by far one of the most reliable ships I’ve had the fortune of piloting.”

“What’s her name?” Ani asked with a grin. Every ship had a name, no matter what its purpose was.

“The Duchess,” Ben replied, a proud look on his face.

“Did you dock it at one of the public ports?” she asked curiously.

“Initially, yes,” Ben admitted, shaking his head. “That delightful Captain Typho chap worked with me to move it to a secured port. He says that The Queen was rather insistent on it, actually.”

“I was going to say,” Ani said with a huff. “If you’re here as our guest, then I would be very upset with her if she let you use a public starport. Is the Duchess stock or have you had a chance to mod her? I’ve seen so many off-market YT mods out there, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“I haven’t had a chance to do anything extensive other than Jango doing some fine-tuning to the sensor calibration,” Ben said thoughtfully. “Though the thought has crossed my mind more than once. This most recent Kamino concern has had me preoccupied.”

“Ah, yeah, I can see that,” Ani said with a frown. “Well, if you ever need any help coming up with schematics for mods, let me know.”

“I think I might take you up on that, one of these days,” Ben said agreeably. She was rather surprised. People were more often than not very particular about their ships. Letting absolute strangers piss around with them or their mechanics usually had pilots letting out some very choice words. Ben, she supposed, was different.

Their conversation quieted down as they returned to the royal apartments, though once they were through, she nudged him towards the bathroom on the first floor. “Go ahead and wash your hands, but be careful not to get stuff all over the place. You clean whatever messes you make.”

She went upstairs to her room and went to her personal bathroom, scrubbing her hands clean of the various bits of grime and grease from her fighter, and then wiping her face down as well. Pleased with what she saw in the mirror, she winked at herself before heading over to her closet. She didn’t want to leave Ben waiting too long, so she quickly shed her boots, jumpsuit and shirt, tossing them into the laundry chute. She then quickly put on a camisole, a light blue blouse, a pair of trousers, and some house slippers.

Being pretty was very very nice, but being comfortable was also pretty damn important.

Ben was already waiting in the sitting room when she came back down the stairs.

“Sorry about that - I just had to change out of those grimy overalls,” she said with a grin. “Padmé should be back soon. Hey, do you play much dejarik?”

“Some,” Ben replied with a smile. “Honestly, I don’t play it as much as I used to.”

“I’m awful at it,” Ani admitted. “But it can be a good time-waster.”

…

The sound of the door to the royal apartments opening had Ani looking up from what was admittedly a very dire situation on the dejarik board. Padmé and the others were immediately heading for Padmé’s room so they could get her out of the abysmal royal robes that everyone hated.

Ani gave her a smile - and got one in return, a good sign that whatever the meeting was about had not been anything too serious or troublesome, before turning back to her game.

For someone who ‘hadn’t played in awhile’, Ben seemed more than capable of absolutely eviscerating her in the field of battle. “I yield,” she said at last, realizing that she had no good moves left. “Padmé’s here - and I can’t win this game.”

“You put in a remarkable effort for someone so young,” Ben said wisely as Ani’s troops all stood down and bent the knee to him. “You will get better at this with time, my dear.”

“Rabé says that a lot whenever she gets me to play with her,” Ani said, idly rubbing the back of her neck. “I just think I’m just kinda bad at it. Put me in a pod-racer or a speeder and I’ll out run and out gun anybody in the galaxy, but when it comes to slowing down and thinkin’ about stuff like this? I don’t know. I’m just bad at it. I guess that’s why the Council never sent me or Master Qui-Gon out on diplomatic missions.”

“The Jedi Council couldn’t find common sense with both hands and a glow-lamp,” Ben said with a scoff. “That has nothing to do with your ability to mediate things or be methodical, Ani. You are still a child who is learning to approach things with a degree of delicateness. Consider how you work on your starfighter. Someone incapable of taking their time and being deliberate and thoughtful could not be a masterful mechanic.”

“I guess. My therapist says I need to be kinder to myself about my shortcomings,” Ani muttered, furrowing her brow. That was a point of contention that Doctor Sung never let her get by on.

‘Aniaré - you must be kinder to yourself.’

She shook her head and sighed. “I was reading this book the other day,” Ani murmured, moving the conversation along and pushing that whispering self-doubt away again. “It was some kind of book about political philosophy or something, by some Nubaé politician centuries ago. He said something about ‘walk softly and carry a big stick’?”

“I know exactly what book you are referring to, and it’s not a terrible concept,” Ben replied back lightly. “I’ve certainly found that walking softly and carrying a big gun - or lightsaber, really, has come in handy more than once, and that is the sort of philosophy that has long guided the likes of the Jedi Order and Mandalorians at various points.”

“Most of the book didn’t make much sense but that part did,” Ani said with a huff. “Political science is just so dreadful sometimes, but it’s mandatory.”

“Other than the unfortunate dread of poli-sci, I take it that the Naboo have been seeing to your education properly?” Ben asked.

“A lot more than Qui-Gon used to,” Ani provided. “I’ve been taking classes remotely, but I’ve learned a lot, though my teachers say I am so far beyond any curriculum they have for linguistics. Apparently with how many languages I can speak, I’ve already qualified for all the credits I need through university in that particular field.”

“How many languages do you speak these days, Ani?” Ben asked, blinking. “I know you spoke Huttese and Basic, but…?”

“I can speak a bunch of languages - some of them more fluently than others,” she said thoughtfully. “Basic is my fifth language, I think. It comes with the territory of growing up around slaves of all different races. Anyway, school is fine, but lately I’ve been kind of frustrated with getting better at using the Force. The Jedi are the only ones that have ways to teach you stuff like that.”

Ben hummed. “I actually have some learning material that might help you,” he said, reaching into his vest, pulling a datapad out. “It’s not the Jedi Archives, but it might actually be of some use to you. Also before I leave here, can I show you a few exercises that you can practice?”

“You would do that?”

“Of course,” Ben said genially. “Knowledge is power and wisdom meant to be shared.”

…

When Padmé finally arrived again - now freshly changed out of her full royal regalia, Ben was showing Ani some Force techniques he had documented in his exploration of ancient Jedi ruins.

“Qui-Gon was not entirely wrong in his philosophy about the Living Force, but it is merely one facet of the Unifying Force. Does this make sense?”

“It does,” Ani said. “I didn’t really know you could do other things with the Force - I mean, I have seen some of the Masters do really weird things, but I didn’t quite get how deep it was. You think I can do these things?”

“The Force is all that was and shall be,” Ben said, quoting an old Master Qui-Gon standby. “The limits of what can be achieved is only limited by your imagination and will.”

“He used to say that a lot,” Ani grumbled. “For someone who believed in that sort of thing, he never let me really explore other topics beyond what he wanted.”

“Yes, but that is why you have a chance now to grow beyond anything he could have wanted or imagined,” Ben said genially, gently resting his hand on her shoulder. “I can’t be around all the time to help you, but I think if you take this information, you will be just as capable as any Jedi Knight in time.”

“I hope so,” Ani murmured, accepting the datapad from Ben. “Thanks, Ben.”

“It’s my pleasure, Ani,” Ben said with a grin. “Now, I believe the Queen has arrived, so I’m afraid we must finish up here.”

“Indeed,” Padmé said. “Much as I am loath to interrupt where Ani’s education and well-being is concerned, I believe we had some terms to negotiate, Ben?”

“Yes,” Ben replied with a bow of his head. “We do indeed.”

The negotiations went on longer than Ani had expected - the assumption she’d had where Obi-Wan Kenobi was concerned was that like every other Jedi, he sought to placate and ameliorate… yet Ben was actually a shrewd operator, bouncing random cred figures off of Padmé, and negotiating things like fuel provisions, bare supplies, diplomatic support among many other things across the whole terms of the agreement. Nothing he asked for was necessarily unfair, but much of it was a non-starter politically. Not that Padmé was very sharp or hostile about it.

“While we do thank you for the service you performed for Naboo, Mister Kenobi,” Padmé said demurely. “You must understand that the Jedi’s role is to protect the planets of the Galactic Republic from situations such as the one we experienced. Some of these terms are, to put it mildly, not going to pass muster if I am called to task by the CGC.”

“I understand that, ma’am, but everything is negotiable,” Ben said smoothly.

Ani watched, feeling like she was witnessing two dejarik masters play the most advanced game she'd ever seen in her life - it was multidimensional, to a point.

“The fact of the matter, Mister Kenobi, is that we are time limited-”

“I am willing to renegotiate these matters at such a time-”

“-unlimited fueling rights in the Chommel sector, with negotiations to allow for discounted fueling in friendly systems-”

“-cannot provide more than four months supply-”

In the end, the negotiated terms were that Ben would be placed under contract with the Crown of Naboo until such a time that Padmé’s reign expired, at which time they would be required to renegotiate terms with her as a private citizen. During this contract period, Ben would be given free refueling rights in the Chommel sector, with negotiated discounts for some sectors in friendly territory, and as a symbol of good faith and trust, he would be provided four months worth of supplies that he could carry in The Duchess and use as needed.

“Now, there is the matter of any discoveries you make while under contract,” Padmé said, clearing her throat. “I should wish that any data you collect in this period be shared.”

“Any data?” Ben asked, curious.

“Related to this Kamino matter, or information and rumors you hear on other worlds that might be of use for diplomatic purposes. As for the Jedi temples you have mentioned searching the galaxy north-to-south for, I would request that any useful information be shared with Ani so that she may expand her education in these subjects.”

“I had intended to share my Jedi discoveries with her anyway,” Ben said, giving Ani a warm smile. “It would not do for such a talented young woman to be denied a chance to prosper in all manner of ways merely because the Jedi Order are obtuse old men with more ego than sense.”

“Good,” Padmé said with a nod. “I suppose that covers all the negotiating points I wanted to discuss. I cannot speak for how much I can invest my trust in your Mandalorian associate, but I assume he is trustworthy?”

“I would trust him with my life at this point,” Ben said flatly.

“Then that should suffice,” Padmé replied amicably. “Stay here— we can have some tea before you get on your way.”

Padmé disappeared to get tea, and Ani cleared her throat.

“Ben?”

“Yes, Ani?”

“Can I ask you to do me a favor? You’re a bounty-hunter, and you might- you might be able to help.”

Ben looked at her carefully. “What is it I can do for you?” he asked.

“Can you make sure my mother is safe? Nobody ever freed her from slavery after Qui-Gon won me, and I- I can’t go and do it myself. I’m going to end up hurting someone, or myself if I do. I just need to be sure that she isn’t dealing with that anymore. I promised her I would come back some day, and-”

“Ani,” Ben said gently. “I will speak to Jango, and we will ensure that your mother is freed. Can you tell me as much as you can about your old master - habits, beliefs, things like that? It would help in letting Jango and I deal with him.”

Ani took a deep breath, rubbing her arms. “Well…”

…

“Are you sure you want me to discuss the details of your physical with Her Majesty present, Lady Skywalker?”

“I do, Doctor Leilani - Padmé has done so much for me, and I know she is always worried about - well, about making sure I’m okay, so it’s fine, you can talk about everything around her.”

Doctor Leilani gave a quiet nod and pulled out her data pad. “So, as we discussed, the vast majority of those of us who practice the medical profession on Naboo are not… familiar with the specific medical needs of someone who is both Force-sensitive and of your relatively unique biology. So, the last couple months have been the sort of challenge that myself and my colleagues have always relished.”

“Ani never did explain to us why her biology warranted such special measures. My friend who went through gender transition at a similar point in life was able to get hormone replacements without much concern,” Padmé said, a look of concern on her face.

“That is because Lady Skywalker is only half-human,” Doctor Leilani said, placing the datapad down. “When Lady Skywalker was referred to us earlier this year to address her gender dysphoria and recommend steps to prevent the start of male puberty, we did a full blood panel. The results… were extremely abnormal for a human of her age.”

The doctor sighed and took her glasses off to massage the bridge of her nose. “Much to my chagrin, I attributed this to Lady Skywalker’s Force sensitivity creating those differences. Those differences were substantial enough to where I wanted to be sure before we did anything. We did a simple DNA test, and we found markers indicating that Lady Skywalker’s father could not be human - to the best understanding we have, Lady Skywalker’s father was Togruta.”

“Oh,” Padmé murmured. “Ani, why did you not say anything about this?”

“It’s… complicated,” Ani replied, rubbing the back of her neck. “Whoever my father was never factored into things. When you grow up without a father on Tatooine, everyone knows why you don’t have a father, and it isn’t spoken about.”

Ani took a deep breath and sighed. “So, it never mattered. The Jedi never said a thing to me about it, so I’m not even sure they knew, but when Doctor Leilani told me, I had to talk to Doctor Sung about it, and… work out my feelings that I do have a father - who violated my mother - and that the bastard is out there somewhere, maybe.”

“So,” Doctor Leilani interjected, interrupting the train of thought before it could get much worse or involved. “We’ve worked since then with Ani and the Advanced Biomedicine department of the University of Theed on ensuring that Lady Skywalker should not experience any specific issues with taking the various medications.”

“That being said,” Doctor Leilani said before Ani and Padmé could get too happy at the news. “I would like to see Ani regularly as we adjust the dosages of her additional medications.”

“What’s our plan for when Padmé is no longer Queen?” Ani asked. “I know that she’s only got another year in office, so I’m just worried about going through this all over again.”

“We can just hand it over to the Advanced Biomedicines department, or some other doctor in the UT system. Really, any civili-…ah, any world outside of the extreme Outer Rim should be able to synthesize the necessary materials to produce your prescription on-demand, should things take you that way.”

“Good,” Ani murmured. “So, everything else is fine?”

“Of course,” the doctor said with a nod. “Everything is checking out just fine. Are you still experiencing headaches?”

“Less so since I’ve been practicing those meditation exercises Ben taught me,” Ani replied. “I still sometimes get flashes of anger, but Doctor Sung and I have been working through that.”

“Good. Then I think we’re done here,” Doctor Leilani replied, tucking her datapad away. “I’ll make sure that the report is sent to you, Lady Skywalker, and that your new hypos are delivered as soon as possible. Oh, and, happy forthcoming birthday!”

“Your birthday is coming up?!” Padmé practically screeched.

After that particular tidbit came out, Ani had half-expected Padmé to make a big deal of it, yet much to her suspicion, the older girl hadn’t. She had confirmed that Ani’s birthday was coming up in the next couple weeks, but other than that, had let the matter rest - for that, Ani was thankful. Much like many other ‘celebrations’ on Tatooine, they were less jovial expressions of happiness and more “thank Ar-Amu we lived another year”.

Her mother had always made sure to make it sort of special, but if her mother wasn’t here to join her, then she wasn’t sure she really cared enough to celebrate. The Jedi hadn’t cared, so she guessed that she shouldn’t care much either.

When the day of her birthday had finally arrived, everyone had been very low-key about it at first, but that evening before dinner, Padmé had sat down at the head of the table next to her and had gotten everyone’s attention with a gentle tap of a fork on glass.

“As we all know,” she said to all the girls. “Ani officially turns fourteen today.”

The girls clapped, looking very happy and excited about the whole prospect. Ani didn’t quite understand why this was so important.

“Ani, do you know what the significance of the fourteenth birthday is in our culture?” Padmé asked curiously with a turn of her head, seemingly pre-empting her questions. Padmé was looking at her with a mischievous shine in her eye. Ani sighed internally, knowing that Padmé would not be able to resist doing something for her birthday.

“I don’t, actually,” Ani replied, frowning down at her food.

“It’s important because it marks the start of a woman’s transition to womanhood. A very long time ago it would have meant the start of suitors coming to your parents to ask for your hand in marriage, but these days it is more just an excuse to party and celebrate one’s accomplishments thus far. Typically there’s parties that are held and they’re always exciting.”

Ani grimaced. It didn’t matter how much she tried to get used to them - parties were not her thing at all. People staring at her, being weird around her, she liked looking pretty and all that, but just - she didn’t like formality.

“You didn’t put a party together, right?” Ani asked. “I appreciate it, Padmé - but it’s just my birthday, nothing more, we don’t need to do anything for it.”

“We didn’t plan a party, Ani, but I still wanted to give you something to commemorate this special occasion. It is traditional that at the fourteenth birthday party, something is passed down, something special that represents your growth into womanhood.”

Padmé stood up and gently ushered Ani to her feet as well.

“Ani,” Padmé said gently. “To celebrate the journey you’ve made in more ways than one, I spoke with my mother, and we racked our brain for days trying to think of something we could share with you to show that you are loved, and that you are part of our family.”

She reached into the pocket of her trousers and withdrew a box. She gently handed it over to Ani.

“These belonged to my grandmother - she was given them for her fourteenth birthday. My mother received them for her fourteenth birthday, and she gave them to me for my fourteenth birthday. I can think of no better way to show how much you mean to me - to all of us - than to hand it down to you.”

Ani swallowed a hard lump and gently opened the box, gasping.

“Padmé, no,” Ani said suddenly.

They were positively gorgeous dangling golden earrings with beautiful, crystal-clear diamonds in them. The kind of earrings that nobility got on a lark, worth more than anything she’d ever had in her whole life.

“I insist - I think these would look lovely on you, and it is traditional to give jewelry for a fourteenth birthday gift,” Padmé insisted. “I even spoke to Granny and she thought the idea was brilliant. She, of course, wants to meet you properly, but after Mom and Dad told her about what a brilliant person you are, she loved the idea even more.”

“Padmé,” Ani whined. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You needn’t say anything,” Padmé replied gently. “You’re family.”

Chapter Text

“... With 80% of provinces reporting in, we can confirm that Orpheia Hérran has won the necessary electorates to be named the next Monarch of Naboo. This is a triumph for the Interventionist faction, as the new Queen-elect has indicated her intent to follow the same path and policy as now-outgoing Queen Amidala, including continuing fostering ties with our neighbors in the Rimward regions… Once the Electoral Council confirms the Queen-elect’s victory, the Privy Council will meet to determine what the new Queen’s regnal name shall be…”

Aniaré glanced at the girl who had become like a sister... or mother, almost, to her in the last year-and-a-half. Padmé was leaned over in her chair, making sounds that didn’t sound out of place on a prey creature that had escaped the jaws of an apex predator.

“It’s finally over,” Padmé said, relief in her voice. “After all the campaigning and the debates, I was terrified that Jerovan was going to win, he was the last thing we needed with Naboo finally on her feet and building ties with other planets like us.”

“Padmé, the only reason it even looked remotely like he was going to win was because the more rural areas got their votes counted first. I knew once Lake Country, Theed, and the urban parts of the planet had their votes roll in, it wasn’t going to be even remotely close,” Ani said amusedly. “You were worried about nothing.”

“I was worried because I wanted Orpheia to run, and the polls-”

“Yes, the polls were saying that if you had run for a third term, despite it being non-traditional, you would have been voted in nearly unanimously,” Sabé said, rolling her eyes. “But there were never any polls - except for maybe a small amount a few months back that showed that Jerovan even had a snowball’s chance on Tatooine of winning.”

“So, there’s gonna be a new Queen. What do we do now?” Ani asked.

“Once I sign the document that formally cedes the crown to the Queen-elect, all my handmaidens are relieved from their oaths, and then they can proceed with the rest of their lives at their leisure, depending on the circumstances,” Padmé replied.

“I don’t really want us to all go our own ways,” Ani said quietly, frowning. “It- I’ve come to enjoy living here with all of you, for it to be over already…?”

“We’re not going to stop being family just because we live our own lives,” Padmé said seriously, squeezing Ani’s hands. “You’re going to be with me and Sabé, and you’re going to go to university and finish up your education, and then from there, the whole galaxy is open to you!”

“I guess,” Ani murmured. “I’m just scared about how much things will change.”

“It’ll be okay, Ani,” Padmé murmured reassuringly. “It will be okay.”

…

The transition meetings in trying to reconcile the incoming monarch’s agenda with that of the outgoing monarch greatly varied depending on the circumstance. Padmé recalled when she had won her first election, she had defeated the incumbent who was aiming for re-election, and it had been a frosty and contentious transitionary period, with the outgoing Queen barely giving her time of day, let alone helping her with setting up her new reign.

Opposed to that, Padmé’s transition meetings with Orpheia were easy, save for a small quibble that popped up in the middle of one.

“I’m going to appoint you to the Senate,” Orpheia quipped randomly, causing Padmé to freeze in the middle of a document and stare at the other girl.

“Excuse me?” she asked, suddenly feeling quite tired and exhausted for a woman only barely in her twenties.

“Senator Vancil has communicated with our transition team that he intends to resign at the end of the month,” Orpheia said with a sigh, looking quite like a totally-in-over-her-head fourteen year old. “I want you to take the job.”

“Orpheia - I - I’ve devoted my entire life up to this point to public service, but I want to start a family, and I have people that I’ve devoted myself to. I can’t just - I can’t just give it up for politics. Plus, while being Queen at fourteen is a time-honored tradition, I’m- I’m barely in my twenties, I’ll never be able to command the respect of the Senate.”

“Padmé,” Orpheia said, shaking her head. “I need you to do this. Vancil has never had the charisma to lead the coalition. You’ve read the reports of what’s been going on in the Senate. We need someone who can unite the coalition and represent Naboo on the grandest stage. I know it is a lot to ask of you, all things considered, but please. There is nobody else I can trust with this matter but you, and your wonderful charisma.”

Padmé let out an aggrieved sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I have to discuss this with my family first.”

“Yes, I know. This wasn't what anybody wanted, believe me, you have earned a long and happy retirement considering the work you did for Naboo, but it is what is needed.”

She dreaded having to have the conversation with Ani and Sabé, because now, there were many things she’d need to start doing. Sabé and her would have to have a conversation about their relationship and their plans moving forward - the Senate had strict conduct rules that she would have to review in-depth - and then Ani.

Uprooting the poor girl to take her back to the cold, gray wasteland that was Coruscant? Exposing her to the risk of being stalked or harassed by the Jedi? Plus, her education! The University of Theed was a great social environment that Ani would thrive in, denying her that and forcing her to do remote education on Coruscant would be a crippling blow to her nascent sense of independence.

No, she knew then and there that Ani could not come with her to Coruscant - not until she finished her education. It would be painful to say goodbye to the young woman she had come to love so deeply… as a sister, or… perhaps even love her in the way a mother might, but it was what needed to be done.

Now, the question was… how was she going to say as much?

…

Sabé had taken the news with a certain stoicism and ‘stiff upper lip’ that she had always expected from her partner, willing to weather whatever storm if it meant staying together and building the life they’d stayed up late so many nights talking about.

“It just means our plans will have to wait,” Sabé said gently, gripping her hands. “Believe me, I understand. It’s not what I would have wanted, but you have given your whole life to Naboo, how can I demand you turn your back on her now? We will simply have to start our life together on Coruscant first.”

“You’re everything,” Padmé murmured, hugging the woman close. “I’d be so lost without you.”

“No, you wouldn’t - you’d be just as strong as you are now, but I’m more than happy to lend you a little strength. Do you want me to help you tell Ani?”

“No,” Padmé said, deflating some at the mention of the fifteen year old. “She deserves to hear it from me - I’m the one making this decision, and - this is something I need to do.”

“I understand,” Sabé said, gently leaning and kissing Padmé on the forehead.

Despite Padmé hoping and wishing that Ani would take it with the same confidence and stoicism, the fifteen year old girl had a much different emotional take on the news.

“What do you mean I can’t come with you?” Ani asked furiously.

“Princess,” Padmé said softly, using the childish nickname Mom had given Ani over the last holiday they’d spent at home. “I don’t do this because I want to hurt you. I- I want you to stay here and finish your education. That way the next time you look the Jedi in the eyes, you know for sure that you’re going to be okay. I want you to go to university, make silly mistakes and be messy and not have to worry about offending some diplomat or politician. You said it yourself, Coruscant is an awful place to be.”

“But I don’t want to be away from you, Padmé,” Ani whined, tears already starting to fall from her eyes. “You’re being so mean, and- and unfair! I hate you!”

Before Padmé could speak again, Ani had already run off to her room, slamming the door behind her, rattling the walls. That could have gone better, but she remembered being fifteen and full of emotions - and Ani certainly was having a much worse time of it, dealing with her admittedly unique pubescence - and she didn’t necessarily blame Ani for such a knee-jerk reaction to her suddenly taking back all the things she promised to her once she’d stepped down.

After giving her... Goddess, was she a foster mother or a sister?... ward some space for an hour or two, she grabbed some of the ice cream that Ani had developed an affection for not long after returning to them, and carried it upstairs to try to placate some ruffled feathers.

Ani’s door was actually slightly ajar as she approached, and Ani heard some voices.

“- you can be upset about the change in plans, Ani, but you have to understand that this is going to be just as tough on her as it is on you.”

“Sola,” Ani whined. “But why does she have to do it at all?”

Padmé gently nudged the door open wider, to see that Ani was strewn out on her bed, talking to the small holographic form of Sola. She adored how close Ani was to the rest of the family, and how much they fawned after her.

“Ani, after the Trade Federation invasion, after the reconstruction, and after all the diplomatic efforts to build a future for our world that does not rely on the charity of the Core, the new Queen wants Padmé to assure that the future she spent the last six years building comes to fruition.”

“I guess. I just - what’s going to happen to me now?” Ani asked, sounding as lonely and afraid as she had been the day she’d been brought back from Bothawui.

“What do you mean, princess?” Sola asked, curiously. “You’ll come live with us.”

“Really?”

“Darling, you are part of this family. Perhaps not by blood, but by every other metric I can think of that actually matters. You joined us for the Festival of Lights and Yeardawn. You broke bread with us and we named you family, and Padmé filed the papers to adopt you into the family formally, so don’t worry about it. You’re starting at U of T in a few weeks, you can come stay with us so Mom can fret over you, Dad can talk your ear off about blitzball, you and Darred can get lost in engineering manuals…”

“That sounds nice. Are you sure? I can- I guess I can live in the dorms…?”

“Live in the dorms? Perish the thought,” Sola said, looking scandalized. “No, you’ll stay among family. Mom and Dad will be over the moon with having another grandchild to spoil, we’ll have a big dinner, and it’ll be great.”

“Don’t invite too many guests,” Ani said amusedly. “You know I hate crowds.”

“Of course, princess - it’ll be just family. In fact, I’m sure we can get Padmé to show up before she leaves for Coruscant, isn’t that right?”

Padmé flinched, being caught out by Sola and Ani as the latter flipped over and sat up to look at her. She couldn’t guarantee that at all. Ascension Day and her swearing-in at the Senate were so tight in scheduling…

“I… have ice cream - I wanted to… see if you were okay,” she said softly, side-stepping the subject.

“I think Ani will be just fine,” Sola said gently. “She’s just going through it right now, aren’t you, Ani?”

“Yeah,” Ani replied, scratching her neck. “Um, I’m sorry for how I acted, Padmé. I know this ain’t your fault or anything, it’s just - you know, what has to be done. You’re right, I don’t really want to go back to Coruscant yet. I’m not ready to face the Jedi, or deal with how cold that stupid planet is. So, I guess if you have to go, I’ll stay here and go to school.”

“It really is for the better, princess,” Padmé said softly, coming to sit next to Ani.

Ani accepted the offered bowl of ice cream and poked at it a bit.

“I have to go now, Ani - but it was nice talking to you. I’ll see you after the Ascension,” Sola said warmly. “Love you, princess.”

“Love you too, Sola,” Ani murmured, smiling. “Bye.”

The hologram winked out, and Padmé sighed.

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but I just wanted to be sure you were going to be alright,” she said, lightly resting her hand on Ani’s shoulder.

“I’ll be fine,” Ani insisted, eating a spoonful of ice cream. “I just don’t want you and Sabé to go, that’s all. It’s selfish, I know.”

“I wouldn’t call it selfish, at least not completely. It isn’t unreasonable to be upset at sudden changes to plans, but that being said, I still think this is a great opportunity for you to spread your wings a bit, and not be so bound to me. I know you don’t feel that way, but if you have to look at this in any way, look at it that way.”

“Yeah, I guess. Master Qui-Gon used to say to me that the Force often worked in mysterious ways, and that we merely had to surrender ourselves to the will of the Force and it would never steer us wrong. The Force is saying that this is something that should happen, because it’s a good thing. Good things will come of this, but I still hate it. I don’t want to trust the Force and let things lie, I want you to stay.”

“I know, sweetheart, and I wish I could, but I have to do this.”

“I know,” Ani replied morosely.

…

Ascension Day was miserable, all the festivities buried by the rain and fog. It was the spring seasons on Naboo, of course - monsoons and terrible storms weren’t entirely uncommon in the wetlands and coastal regions, of which Theed was nestled in, like a shining beacon amidst the mire. Aniaré found herself staring out of the window of her bedroom, being contemplative. Doctor Sung pointed out once that she was always like this when she was feeling morose.

The reason she was contemplative was because things were changing - and changing fast. Her bedroom was stripped of all trinkets, everything stashed in boxes that were already on their way to the Naberrie homestead on the outskirts of Theed. All of the handmaidens save for her and Sabé had already left, freed from their oaths by Amidala. They had, of course, promised to keep in touch, but Ani still felt a keen loss of kinship now that they’d all scattered to the winds.

She looked at the datapad in her hand, and poked at it a bit. The spring semester was going to start soon, and with it, the rest of her life. She wondered if she was being a little bit dramatic, but frankly she had reason! Everything was changing far too fast for her and she was feeling dizzy and upset and- argghhh!

Taking a deep breath, she thought about the decision she ended up making. She had ended up deciding to double-major in Galactic History and Anthropology - that wasn’t to say she couldn’t get an engineering degree with barely any effort, but it was like breathing oxygen. She could do it in deep sleep, so why bother wasting time and effort to attend a bunch of classes for it?

Instead of classes she could’ve aced at six years old, she’d be taking classes like Combined History of the High Republic Era, Pre-Modern Naboo Literature and Poetry, Outer Rim Anthropology 1000, and even a few theology and political science courses, primarily centered around the earliest founding systems of the Republic and their systems of governance at the time, along with explorations of Ancient Jedi theology.

She didn’t look forward to the poli-sci classes, but she was going to at least stick it out as best as she could considering the wealth of other stuff she’d be able to learn about in the process.

Another point of irritation that was bothering her was where she was going to stick her N-1 starfighter.

Legally there shouldn’t be any issues, Padmé was the legal owner of the N-1, as she had purchased it using personal funds from the Security Forces. At the same time, though, she didn’t expect that the Naberries would have a private hangar or another place large enough to stick the craft, and Ani was absolutely not about to leave her baby sitting in a barn somewhere. It was bad enough that it was rotting away in the palace hangar.

A knock came on the door, and Ani turned to see Padmé standing there, out of her Queen’s regalia for the last time. Ani checked her chrono - oh, it was already just past mid-day. Amidala’s reign was officially over.

“There’s still the matter of ceremony to complete, but my time as Queen has ended,” Padmé said gently. “We’ll be heading over to the Temple in the next hour, and then from there…”

“Off to whatever it is we’re doing,” Ani replied, sighing and tucking her datapad back into her coat. “I guess this is it, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Padmé said gently, coming over to sit down next to Ani. “You know I’m going to miss you, right?”

“I know,” Ani murmured. “I’ll miss you too.”

“It isn’t like we’ll never see each other again, either. I talked it over with Gregar and Quarsh, and the idea was bandied about that once you’d finished school, you could come work for me in the Senate, if you wanted.”

“Really?” Ani questioned, shocked.

“It’s up to you, of course, if you decide after everything is said and done that you’d rather go off and find a new adventure, but the offer is open. The only thing you’d need to do is complete OCS, because the Security Forces won’t accept a civilian as my bodyguard.”

“You want me to be your bodyguard?” Ani asked, curiously. She hadn’t considered stepping into a role like that. She guessed it made sense, given she used to be a Jedi and all that, but still. She’d put that part of her mostly behind, save for the research she did with Ben Kenobi’s findings that he sent back to her.

“Bodyguard, adjutant, advisor,” Padmé said flippantly, shrugging. “You’ve always been a great source of perspectives that I would not have otherwise considered, given my background. I want you to think about it, and then when you’re done with school, we can talk about it again.”

“Alright,” Ani said, hugging Padmé. “Deal.”

…

The formal ceremony to relinquish the throne wasn’t all that much pomp and circumstance either. Of course, Queen Jamillia (for that was her regnal name now) would be coronated in a grandiose spectacle that neither Padmé nor any member of her family or royal court could attend for religious reasons - none of which Ani particularly understood, but she didn’t care, she didn’t want to attend a royal coronation anyway.

After the end of the brief ceremony in which Padmé formalised her stepping down from the throne, they went out into the blinding rain again, taking a speeder to the spaceport where Padmé and Sabé would be whisked off to Coruscant. They’d be taking the old familiar royal yacht that was now Padmé’s personal cruiser.

Fortunately, the docking bay was empty save for a few royal engineers and - ah-ha, their family.

“Padmé!” Jobal cheered, coming over to fret over the former Queen, before her attention quickly moved to her now-youngest. “And Ani, princess, it’s so good to see you,”

“Mom, you just saw us at the Festival of Lights a few months ago,” Padmé said amusedly, before embracing a very pregnant Sola, who passed the two-year-old Pooja over to Darred. Ani gravitated over to the toddler, cooing at her, causing the youngest one to giggle happily. “It’s so good to see all of you after being away for so long.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Ruwee said, frowning some. “I understand that this is what you were born to do, but it’s still rotten.”

“I know,” Padmé said with a sigh. “I wish I could stay longer - and spend more time with you, but it’s my duty, you know that.”

“You listened too well to my lectures,” Ruwee said with a grin on his face.

“Of course,” Padmé replied.

“Ani, are you looking forward to starting at the university?” Sola asked. Ani glanced at the older woman and gave her a sheepish grin.

“I guess so. I mean, the classes I've signed up for this semester look pretty interesting. I don’t know how much I’m going to enjoy the regimented education thing - I never liked it when I was a Jedi, so we’ll see.”

“You’ll do fine, princess,” Jobal replied, coming over and smoothing some of Ani’s stray hairs down that had escaped her hairband. “And if you ever run into something you’re struggling with, we can all help you out.”

“Ma’am, we’re ready to depart,” a royal engineer said, coming over to address Padmé. “You are expected at the Senate with celerity, so we should not wait much longer.”

“Thank you,” Padmé replied, before turning to her family, “I have to go. Um. I love you all, very much.”

Ani didn’t hesitate for a second, coming over and wrapping Padmé in a tight hug. In just a scant couple years, she had gone from shorter than Padmé to nearly the same height. How different would it be when they see each other again? Ani had been chewing on it for the last couple days, and... of course, she loved her Amu– who lived back on Tatooine doing righteous and good things. But she knew that Amu wasn’t the only mother she had in her life.

“Fly safe and unfettered, Mum,” Ani murmured, giving Padmé another squeeze before letting her go, moving over to where Sola and Darred were. She stood with them as Jobal and Ruwee said their own goodbyes, and Padmé and Sabé climbed into her ship.

Padmé stopped at the top of the boarding ramp, and turned back to smile at them. With a gentle wave and a blown kiss, she disappeared inside the craft, and that was that.

At nine, Anakin had followed Qui-Gon Jinn into the stars– and her Amu had let her go, because Amu had known that her destiny lay beyond Mos Espa, beyond Tatooine.

And now, at fifteen, Anakin watched her other Mums, the ones who had taken her in without hesitation, and the ones who had lavished her with love and kindness, took off into the stars.

But she didn’t feel so bad about it this time, because she knew she would be joining them before long.

…

“I haven’t been to Coruscant since the invasion,” Padmé muttered as she watched the stream of stars swim by. They had entered hyperspeed a few minutes ago. She hated hyperspeed, the suffocating blue light that bled off of all the stars as they ricocheted through space was always depressing. “I doubt much has changed since then.”

“Coruscant is an ecumenopolis,” Sabé said idly. “I’m sure it has changed enough.”

“Not the surface - I remember the Senate’s uselessness when we were attacked, and now I’m one of them. It’s slightly nauseating to think about, to be honest. Queen Jamillia trusts me to be the force that brings the coalition together.”

“Well,” Sabé muttered, handing her a datapad. “Take a look at this.”

Padmé appraised the datapad. The representatives of the planets she had brokered deals with in the process of building the coalition to represent the interests of the various Mid- and Outer-Rim planets. The more she had gone through the numbers - the details - the more it had shown that the Core, Expansion Region and Inner Rim had profiteered off the backs of her and her peoples.

She smiled - well, at least she would have allies. Senator Wyrlsk of Enarc had already sent her warm greetings, noting that he was the Second Chairman of the coalition’s meeting body, and that he fully expected her to replace Senator Vancil and do a far more capable job than him.

More well-wishes had followed– Senator Tomalak of Nelvaan had sent her the stoic wishes one could only expect from the perpetually suspicious Nelvaani, as had Senator Karelyn of Chalcedon, though his greeting was cushioned more in religious rhetoric, extolling that her appointment was clearly the work of the Chalcedonian monotheistic God.

How she would take the coalition forward, she didn’t know. She could at least try to work with Chancellor Palpatine to forward the interests of their region of the galaxy, but considering the man had done very little to advocate his planets’ interests or those of the underprivileged in the galaxy, she had her doubts.

The trip to Coruscant only took a couple of days, but as soon as she had arrived - and had been sworn in with all the other freshman senators, the ugly reality of just how politics in the galaxy’s most corrupt haven worked was… quickly made obvious. The coalition that she had effectively fostered through close meetings with various planetary leaders and politicians had a few concrete goals in mind.

The eradication of illegal slavery in the Outer Rim - that had been the goal - but Aniaré had made clear just how much of a problem this was well beyond just the Outer Rim. Many Republic worlds, including some in the Core, freely used slave labor without any consequence, though couched under different terminology.

Article 213 of the Galactic Constitution, Section One made clear what the stance on “slavery” was. ‘Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the Galactic Republic, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.’

Of course, Hutt Space was not subject to Republican jurisdiction, therefore slavery was legal there - and there was very little the Republic could do about it. Strangely enough, Tatooine was on paper as a Hutt Space world and as a Republic world, a legal gray area that allowed the worst of the perfidious institutions to fester.

In the Core - and other regions - slavery was protected via that little escape clause that some liberal moderates stuck in - that involuntary servitude could be mandated as punishment for a crime. Not surprising that many worlds had laws on the books that often carried a lifetime sentence to public servitude.

So - the rigorous enforcement of anti-slavery laws had been a centerpiece of the Alliances’ legislative efforts. But how could you pass these bills when planets like Alderaan and Corellia so openly opposed them on the grounds that the Republic had no right to interfere in their judicial affairs?

So fine - the slavery matter was not something they were going to get movement on. The Republic wore blinders, and pretended that they were upright people who didn’t traffic in sentients.

But through the first weeks - months - beyond of her term of office, she found that everything her alliance wanted was either dismissed as “too idealistic” or smothered beneath opposition of either Core Worlds who thought their rights were being infringed on, or the special interest groups who pulled more than enough votes to derail anything they proposed with ample sums of credits and backdoor deals that she knew were going on but had little proof to follow up on.

By the end of her first year in office, Padmé was already considering drinking as a means of escaping the awful headaches that were caused by dealing with the constant irritation.

If she had to listen to Senator Organa tell her one more time that she had to slow down and listen to experienced senators on certain sensitive matters - or that her policies were great, and he’d love to support them, but he had to consider the interests of his people above all else. She was a lover of all peoples - all cultures - all views, but that being said, Goddess above was she fucking tired of that smug-looking Alderaani and his constant kissing of the Chancellor’s boots.

At this point, all she wanted to do was go home, marry her wife, and look after her daughter, but she couldn’t shirk her duty like that, much as she wanted to. The needs of the Naboo came before her own personal affairs.

No, she would just have to keep trying - something had to give eventually, right?

Chapter Text

“I call to order this hearing,” the tribune said, clearing his throat. “Please let the record show that the current time is seventy-five minutes past three, and that today’s date is the forty-fourth of Newgrowth, four-hundred and ninety-seven. This disciplinary hearing is to review the complaint made against Miss Aniaré Naberrie on the thirty-fourth of this same month by Doctor Ferenc Wirral; and a subsequent counter-complaint made by the aforementioned student against Doctor Wirral that same day.”

He leaned forward to look at Ani. “Miss Naberrie, do you understand the nature of the complaint against you?” he asked.

“I do, sir,” Ani said firmly.

“Doctor Wirral?”

“I do,” the doctor replied.

“Then we shall begin. Doctor Wirral, please explain briefly the nature of your complaint for the council.”

“This student intentionally, willfully and repeatedly disrupted my class to object to the nature of what I was teaching, questioning my credentials and authority at every corner, and repeatedly insinuating that I was not truthful during our most recent module.”

“I see. Miss Naberrie, the nature of your complaint?”

“I charge that Doctor Wirral is conducting academic dishonesty and willfully spreading racist and bigoted misinformation about the history and culture of the species of Tatooine, in violation of the University’s charter and Rules of Academic Objectivity and Accuracy.”

“Right,” the tribune said, adjusting his glasses and looking at the datapad in front of him. “On the morning of the thirty-third, Doctor Wirral, you gave a lecture regarding the anthropology of Tatooine, a planet in the Outer Rim. Did Miss Naberrie make any indications of her disagreement with your lecture?”

“No,” Doctor Wirral conceded. “She did not speak out of turn or raise her voice during the lecture.”

“Please tell us the first instance where she expressed her disagreement with your analysis.”

“I had assigned an essay about the indigenous populations of Tatooine and their relations with human settlements. After class, she approached me to question where I had gotten my citations from. I provided her - quite helpfully I might add - several texts that are peer reviewed and widely acceptable. Miss Naberrie displayed a complete lack of respect, insulting the choice of books I had picked. When she turned in her essay the next day, she had openly defied several of the facts that we know about Tatooine’s native populations, and had implied that the authors of the books were, in her own words, ‘disgusting slaver poodoo farmers‘.”

“Let the record show that Miss Naberrie did, in her essay, refer to several Hutt anthropologist experts as ‘disgusting slaver poodoo farmers,” one of the panelists said, though she clearly seemed enthused at the idea.

“And then during the lesson on the thirty-fourth?”

“She took issue with my characterization of the servant class of Tatooine,” Doctor Wirral said, folding his hands in front of him. “She insisted that I was lying - covering up for the Hutts, and became increasingly belligerent.”

“Miss Naberrie, do you deny becoming belligerent during Doctor Wirral’s lecture?”

“I do not dispute that,” Ani replied coolly.

“I see,” the tribune said, shaking his head. “Miss Naberrie, you filed a counter-complaint against Doctor Wirral the same day, accusing him of academic dishonesty and violating the university’s policy of racial and cultural bias. Can you explain these charges in your own words? Begin with the first incident - the lecture on the thirty-third.”

“The lecture covered the indigenous peoples of Tatooine,” Ani began. “Every part of the lecture was dramatically incorrect, drawn from completely biased sources. It painted the Tuskens as a violent, degenerate, savage people, and mischaracterized their relationship with the various races who live in Tatooine’s settlements. I questioned Doctor Wirral’s sources after class in the most respectful way I could, only to find that he was openly spreading misinformation forwarded by perhaps the most biased and bigoted people on the planet.”

“Miss Naberrie, how do you know these peer reviewed facts are falsehoods?” the tribune asked, peering at the young woman over his glasses.

“Tribune Zelen, I spent the first nine years of my life in slavery. The author of that text describing the Tuskens and their history was written on the commission of my first master and owner, Gardulla the Hutt,” Ani said firmly.

Murmuring erupted among the panel. “I’m sorry - Miss Naberrie - you were a slave?”

“From birth until I was freed at the age of nine,” Ani said firmly. “I was later adopted by Queen Amidala at fourteen, at which time I took the name I have now.”

“Is this why you reacted so poorly during the lecture the following day?” the tribune asked.

“Doctor Wirral depicted the servant class of Tatooine and their relationship with their masters as one that is beneficial. That the Hutts - and those who held our chains - were protecting us from the desert and the harsh climate, and that it was a voluntary servitude. There is not a single slave who voluntarily agreed to have bombs put under their skin, and when I challenged Doctor Wirral on this, he dug his heels in, refusing to relent and insisting that this was the truth and that I was lying. I have scars on my back that say that the honorable doctor is a bigot spreading Hutt propaganda designed with one purpose in mind. To keep me - and people like me - in chains.”

Silence lingered in the room before the tribune cleared his throat. “Professor Bánat,” he asked, addressing one of the panelists. “Did you review the sources cited in this lecture?”

“They all are sourced from Hutt documentation, or interviews conducted by those who owned multiple slaves. I am of the opinion that we have done a great deal of injustice to those like Miss Naberrie by accepting such biased, bigoted points of view as fact when they are, in fact, not fact,” the professor replied evenly, giving Doctor Wirral a smoldering glare.

“Yes, indeed,” the tribune murmured. “Miss Naberrie, considering the... incredible circumstances, the charge against you is dismissed with prejudice. Please accept the apologies of the governing board of the University for the insensitivity and… plainly put, bigotry that has been put on display. Rest assured, we shall get to the bottom of this matter with urgency. We thank you for coming before the board today to settle this matter.”

“Thank you, Tribune Zelen,” Ani said, bowing her head. “It is always my pleasure to do what is needed to ensure that the truth is made clear and plain.”

She collected her things and left the room at a reasonable pace, though she was quickly ambushed as she left the room, though this time by a friendly face.

“How did it go?” Sola asked seriously. “I hope you gave that nasty old bastard what for. Considering it didn’t take very long…”

“It was easy,” Ani said brightly. “I don’t think he was prepared for the fact that I knew first-hand about the subject and that his research was full of complete shit.”

“That’s old career academics for you, they can’t see the forest for the trees with their egos in the way,” Sola said with a snort. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“He won’t be able to spread his lies anymore,” Ani replied firmly. “That’ll have to do, I guess. I want to kill the bastard, but I know that I can’t. The many downfalls of civilized society, wouldn’t you guess.”

“Now, Ani-”

“I’m joking, Sola,” Ani said with a roll of her eyes. “I know that murder is illegal for a reason, I’m just saying that on Tatooine, if he’d been running around saying things like that and had gone into a not-so-Hutt-friendly part of Mos Eisley or Mos Espa? He would’ve been found days later, buried in the sand with his guts hanging out, with nobody the wiser about how he came across such an unfortunate end.”

“Ew,” Sola said, grimacing. “That’s terrible.”

“It’s the humane thing to do,” Ani replied evenly as they walked out of the campus administration building. “Some people would say take him out into the Jundland Wastes and let the desert have him. Then who knows how long he’d suffer. Maybe the desert would take mercy on him and peel the skin from his bones, or maybe the desert would punish him and force him to wander, hungry and thirsty until he collapsed.”

“Did things like that happen often? When you were young?” Sola asked curiously.

“In my childhood, seldomly,” Ani replied evenly. “Every now and again, some slaves who were considered too much trouble to keep around would often be taken out into the desert by the masters. The desert protects her children as best as she can, but… sometimes she cannot save them.”

Ani shook her head. “Enough of that,” she said dismissively. “Is Darred taking care of the girls today?”

“Yes,” Sola said with a smile. “I wanted us to spend the morning together - I figured you might want some support after this whole ordeal was said-and-done with, so I talked Darred into looking after the girls alone today, though I know Mom will certainly be around so it isn’t as if he’s that put upon looking after a rambunctious toddler and an infant.”

“I appreciate that,” Ani said, smiling back. “Did Padmé ever reply to your message?”

“She did - oh, she is so pleased to have another child in the family to spoil,” Sola said with a chuckle. “She wishes she could have been here for the birth and the covenant of naming, but the Senate hasn’t given her a moment’s rest since the day she was sworn in.”

“I know,” Ani said, frowning. Padmé - she loved her adoptive mother like nothing else, but it was plainly obvious just how seriously the Senate was impacting her personally. She hadn’t been able to come home for anything since she’d left. Granted at this point that was only roughly a year, but her absence was palpable and notable at the Naberrie home.

Sola gently wrapped her arm around Ani’s shoulder. “It’s okay, princess. It’s hard, I know, believe me, I want her back too, but it’s - this is what she has been planning her whole life around since she was little. You should have seen her, she knew exactly what she wanted to do the day she realized it was an option. This little cherub with fluffy brown hair standing proudly saying some day she’d be the Queen and then the Chancellor and she’d do all these wonderful things and… I have always been very proud of the work she’s accomplished.”

“Me too, I just - I’m being selfish, I know, but I want her to come home,” Ani said, shaking her head. “It’s stupid of me to think that but-”

“You want your Mum back just as much as I want my sister,” Sola said softly, nodding in understanding. “I understand completely.”

Ani sighed. “Yeah,” she muttered, feeling a small twinge of bitterness. The Naberries were almost like doting grandparents - and Sola was like a really cool sister-who-was-also-kind-of-an-aunt, but Padmé was the one who had fretted after her when she’d first left the Jedi. She was her Mum, and while Ani had been so understanding at the time, the long absences and never being able to come home left her feeling slightly bitter and unhappy.

To say nothing of her Amu who, despite being freed by Jango Fett and Obi-Wan Kenobi, had made it clear in no uncertain terms that she had no intentions of leaving Tatooine. The message she had sent back with them was plain - and had hurt Ani just as much as she understood it.

‘You were always destined to spread your wings and fly, to touch starlight, my little rainstorm - but my place is here, doing the good work my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother always did…’

Was it the fulfillment of her promise that day that she had followed Qui-Gon Jinn, that she would free the slaves? Her mother was free, and she was working to free others, and now that Jango and Ben had both been introduced to the freedom trails, they too could help - and spread the good word and good deeds.

But such civilized methodologies did not quench the flame that burned inside of her. Part of her wanted to take the cracked lightsaber on her mantle, grab her starfighter, and shoot off to the stars to free every slave in the galaxy-

Yet, the reality was that no amount of death was going to solve the problem, unless she was willing to cross the threshold into something much more sinister, and in that vein lay the Dark Side that the Jedi had preached about. She wasn’t willing to sacrifice who she was on the altar of a blood crusade - particularly since she had a greater understanding now of just how complex institutional slavery was from the Republican Core all the way out to the Farthest Rim.

Padmé’s method - diplomacy, democracy, activism - would suffice for now… but Ani, for all her fifteen years, wasn’t an idiot. She knew what happened when you refused to be beaten down, refused to let the masters destroy what remained of your will, and it wasn’t pretty.

She would break the chains– but she needed to think bigger. Think beyond Tatooine.

That heavy melancholy lingered, even as Ani sat across from Sola at a refreshing little café in Theed.

“Are you sure you’re okay, princess?” Sola asked carefully.

Ani blinked and looked up. She had been trying to glare a hole in her kaf, hadn’t she. She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said smoothly. “I don’t mean to be such a downer. I never thought I’d have a life that was so… normal, and I don’t hate it, but it always feels so… well, like I’m just sitting stationary.”

“There’s no shame in having moments like that in your life,” Sola replied back, sipping her tea. “Though I understand, that isn’t quite who you’ve been your whole life. You’re an adrenaline junkie, if your obsession with flying as fast as possible is any indication.”

“Hey,” Ani protested lightly.

“Princess, I watched you take your maiden flight in your N-1 after getting your license. You were doing low-altitude acrobatics.”

Ani bit down a giggle. She remembered that day well.

…

The doors of the hangar opened, and Ani took a deep breath. Sitting there in the hangar, partially covered by a tarp, was the subject of her fluttering heart. Striding with purpose, she crossed the hangar and took fistfuls of tarp, pulling it aside to reveal the retouched-and-restored yellow paint job of her personal starfighter.

Royal Theed Engineering Corps N-1 planetary defense fighter. Twin radial J-type 221s, Monarc C-4 hyperdrive capable of outpacing everything except for the finest fighter craft produced by the likes of Kuat and Corellia with a range of 1100 light years without refueling, twin laser cannons, a two proton rocket launchers, and capable of Mach 0.9 in atmo.

It was a ship she had flown once in her life - seven years ago, entirely by accident, but it had been a taste of something sweeter.

“You look like you’re about to melt in your boots.”

Ani turned to see Sola standing at the door of the hangar, a grin on her face.

“Well,” Ani replied, scratching her neck. “I’ve been working on this ship for two years now - the training fighter was fine, but this is something completely different.”

The sound of beeping and warbling drew Ani’s attention, and she turned to see the R-unit that she had managed to buy from a scrapyard on the far side of Theed approaching. She wasn’t Artoo-Detoo (for truthfully, who could replace him?) but she inspired confidence in Ani.

“Of course I’m not going to take off without you,” Ani retorted, rolling her eyes. “I might have the power of the Force behind me, but I would be an idiot if I took off without an R-unit helping me out. That being said, I’m not exactly planning to go far, just take a couple test runs into orbit and back. It won’t be the most complicated thing ever.”

“Be that as it may,” Sola reminded. “It’s still safer to have an R-unit on hand in case of an emergency.”

“Fair enough,” Ani replied, heading over to where she kept her flight helmet and harness. After gearing up, she climbed up into the bright yellow starfighter, and went through her pre-flight checklist as the R-unit made its way into the mechanism that allowed it to directly interface with the ship.

Ani punched in the comm code for the Theed-based Regional Traffic Authority. The small holographic insignia of the Security Forces popped up.

“Central Control, this is registry code Sen-Resh-Seven-Five-Eight-Zero requesting clearance to depart from Sector 157,”

“Affirmative, SR-7580. You are cleared for take-off, vector heading 270.”

“Affirmative,” Ani replied, before cutting the comm off. “Are we all good?” she asked the R-unit who gave a series of beeps in response.

“Good, I want to see just what she’s capable of,” Ani replied smoothly, before starting the process of taxiing out of the hangar. Once she’d gotten it out of the hangar and turned onto the runway itself, the fighter began to slowly gain speed before roaring off of the runway and shooting off into the heavens at nearly full-tilt.

Not able to resist, Aniaré spun the controls around, and the starfighter dove-tailed straight up through the clouds.

As her starfighter broke through the cloud bank, she returned back to her exit vector to head into orbit and kept her speed increase at full chat. She could feel her heartbeat quickening - this would be the second time in her life that she would be alone in the stars. Of course, she had her R-unit, but really, it was just her.

As she reached the upper edge of atmo, she breathed happily and lowered the throttle back. Her craft slowed and she marveled at the sight before her - Towering, seemingly endless seas of clouds below, and the bright, inviting sun above. Not harsh like Tatooine’s suns, but warm and bright and inviting.

She engaged the throttle again, and shot downward, almost nose-towards-ground into another cloud bank, sweeping her craft through the darkened tower. Lightning flash, winds howled and buffeted her wings, but her ship stayed straight and true throughout, shooting out of the other end no worse for wear. Choking up on the controls again, Aniaré flung her craft sunward, breaking through the upper atmo.

As it began to thin out, Aniaré could make out the millions of stars in the cosmos - they were as beautiful now as they had always been, but yet, here she was, so uninsulated - just her, the Force, and the galaxy, an endless expanse of light, shimmering like jewels in the sun.

With another shout of glee, Aniaré took her ship into a barrel roll and pivoted back down, rocketing at full speed toward terra firma.

“Yippee!”

…

“Barrel rolls, loops - it was like nothing else I’ve ever seen,” Sola said amusedly. “I suppose it isn’t unexpected, given who you are.”

“I guess not,” Ani said with a smile. “You know, I heard a story once when I was with the Jedi. This friend of mine learned it in the creches, since she had been a Jedi long before I showed up. There are so many different stories about how the Jedi - or really, how Force sensitivity came into existence. The story goes that the very first Jedi were born from starlight, shaped in the galaxy’s core like diamonds, born to be the guardians of peace and justice. Of course, that’s not true, but ever since I was a kid on Tatooine, I’ve dreamed of being among the stars.”

She sighed and took a sip from her kaf. “I don’t know, it’s just silly, I guess?”

“It’s not silly,” Sola insisted, patting Ani’s hand. “The galaxy is so large and there are so many people and places to see, I don’t blame you for having a bit of wanderlust. You’ve only ever seen Coruscant, Naboo and Tatooine, right?”

“Well, Bothawui too for that one mission,” Ani said thoughtfully. “But no, other than that I’ve never been anywhere else.”

“Well - there are some really pretty planets across the galaxy. Ni’Var has one of the most advanced scientific academies in the galaxy, it’s a desert world just like Tatooine but the mountains and gorges are insanely pretty. Nelvaan has many good resorts and gorgeous vistas, but ultimately the Nelvaanians are sort of paranoid all the time so you just get this overwhelming sense of suspicion from all of them.”

“Distrusting off-worlders isn’t exactly a bad thing,” Ani pointed out. “There is probably a very good reason why they might feel that way.”

“Probably,” Sola agreed. “It’s just difficult to deal with if you’re going there on a holiday and everyone’s giving you the stink eye.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so,” Ani said with a giggle.

…

“Ben?” Ani asked as she answered the holocall - the familiar face of Ben Kenobi appeared, with a soft smile on his face. She had a damn soft spot for the Jedi-turned-Bounty Hunter. They had a connection, something that was in the Force that she couldn’t quite understand.

“Hello again, Ani,” Ben said amicably. “I apologize for not calling as often as I promised I would. How have you been? I understand you’ve been at university these days?”

“I have,” she replied. “I’ve been studying Galactic History and Anthropology, of all things.”

“Aren’t you the one who said that anthropology was boring and listless?” Ben asked with a smirk.

“It has its uses,” Ani replied with a smile of her own, before shrugging. “Plus I’m taking engineering courses too, so I’ll have a couple of degrees by the time I finish. My academic advisors think I’m doing a great job thus far.”

“That is very reassuring. It is very good to see you excelling at what you have set for yourself. How is your training in the Force coming?” the bearded ex-Jedi asked, giving her a look. As much as she wasn’t a Jedi anymore - and as much as he wasn’t a Jedi anymore, they kept each other honest about staying on top of their training.

“I practice the stuff you gave me every day, but I still feel like I’m missing something,” Ani said - each time she practiced Force-related stuff, she always felt a certain lack of something in her person, something she couldn’t quite feel.

“Missing a cylindrical item of immense importance to Jedi philosophy, intended to help guide you through the kata, perhaps?” Ben asked rhetorically. “I will admit, Ani, that I think it is time you took up your lightsaber again.”

“Ben-” Ani began, only to stop as Ben raised his hands to ward off protest.

“Even if you do not carry your saber around on your hip like a Jedi, I still think that you should be practicing regularly. It is a skill-set that may save your life someday, should you find yourself in trouble.”

“I guess you have a point,” Ani muttered.

“I know I have a point, young one. I rebuilt my lightsaber for much the same reason recently. As good as blasters are - particularly the ones that Jango has seen fit to provide me with, having a lightsaber is still a very good utility in a pinch.”

“You rebuilt your lightsaber?” Ani asked, curiously.

“Well, rebuilt is a strong word. I have a new lightsaber, yes. Grakkus the Hutt has always had a sizable collection of Jedi paraphernalia, so I merely relieved him of some of his burden, including a lightsaber that I believe we both have a claim to.”

“Ben?”

“Qui-Gon’s lightsaber was not destroyed in the explosion,” Ben said bluntly. “Fortunately, I was able to track it down with a little difficulty.”

“Oh fuck, you must hate me,” Ani bemoaned. How could she have forgotten to get her master’s lightsaber? Jedi were weird about the whole preserving the lineage of master-padawan, you know.

“Of course not - you were certainly in just as much of a panic as everyone else. A Bothan scrapper merely found it and kept it for himself before selling it down the chain. It’s quite alright. I took the lightsaber and sent the crystal back to the Jedi.”

“Why didn’t you keep it?”

“That did not feel appropriate. As much as I… protested your idea of using a synthetic crystal, I will admit that I have never felt so in-sync with a lightsaber since I first built my original one on Ilum.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Ani said with a smile.

“This separation - and reconstruction has given me a great deal of expertise in suggesting what I suggest to you now -”

“You think I should repair mine,” Ani cut him off with her observation - glancing up at the cracked lightsaber still adorning the mantle of her bedroom.

“I do,” Ben said, running a hand through his beard. “It will be good practice - both to improve your awareness of the Force, and to ensure that you will be able to use one when the time comes. I maintain that it is a terrible sin for you to be untrained in all matters of the Force.”

Ani sighed. “You’re right, I’m just afraid of - of what I could end up doing with it.”

“Trust in yourself, Aniaré, and trust in the Force. As cliché as that old phrase is, believe in it now more than ever.”

Ani took a deep breath, and reached with her senses out for the crystal that lay inside of the shell of her old lightsaber. The gentlest touch against it felt… weak. Like it didn’t recognize her anymore. She frowned. Has she changed that much?

“Ben?”

“Yes, Ani?”

“Can you become… alienated from your crystals if you change - like, change a lot?”

“It’s not unheard of. Many Jedi have gotten new lightsabers after vast changes to their life, like trauma or experiences that leave them in an altered state mentally. It is not far-fetched to say that your transformation in the last two years has made your crystal no longer call to you.”

“So, then what do I do?”

“I’d say keep your crystal for now - but I will send you over some research material on synthetic crystals that I have compiled. You don’t need to be perfectly in sync to use a lightsaber in a pinch, but you may decide later that you wish to find a crystal that is purpose made for you.”

“Thanks,” Ani murmured.

…

Fortunately for Ani, it was borderline trivial to get access to the resources to “reforge” a lightsaber casing. She had no interest in keeping the same design that she’d been practically forced to adopt by her master. Instead, she was letting her thoughts wander, and she found herself increasingly interested by some of the depictions of Queen Tamarai in battle.

Queen Tamarai, the wild-haired Queen commanding armies with a beautiful gold-handled saber. As it was, Ani had already been styling her hair sort of after her since the first time she’d been to a hair stylist (technically she was styling her hair after Padmé with the flowing curls sometimes wrapped up into hair loops, but Padmé herself had admitted to taking her preferred styles from the depictions of Queen Tamarai), so why not adopt the weapon of choice as well?

It would be a little bit different from the most common Jedi lightsabers, but that was fine because she was most certainly not a Jedi.

When the time came to reforge the casing for her lightsaber, she had actually gone to the mechanical engineering and design labs at the University where one of the girls there (a very cute Twi’lek named Eleora who was in one of her pre-reqs! They hung out all the time during study halls and stuff) let her use their metalworking and blacksmithing labs.

“I didn’t know you used to be a Jedi,” Eleora observed as Ani smelted down the materials into the template she’d made.

“You are one of the only people outside of the family I’ve told,” Ani replied, glancing back at the twi'lek girl. “The Jedi don’t know I’m still alive.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated,” Ani replied, sighing. “I told you about… what happened with Doctor Wirral, right?”

“Yeah,” Eleora said, frowning. “Did the Jedi-?”

“Technically, no, but it felt that way. When I ended up with the Naberries, I didn’t want to leave. So I didn’t. I gave up my lightsaber as part of that, but… I guess I think it’s time I at least make sure I know how to use one, in case I need it.”

“Do you think you’ll need it?” Eleora asked.

“Probably not, but you never know. Better be prepared than caught unawares.”

“I guess,” Eleora said thoughtfully. “Um, say - the student council is having a movie night at the commons tomorrow night. Do - do you want to go together, maybe?”

“Are you asking me out?” Ani asked, blinking in shock.

“I guess so, yeah. I’m- um, well, you’re really pretty, Ani.”

Ani blushed. She hated the reaction she always had when people complimented her. She was not a vain person by any stretch, but just - it was nice to be praised for things, damnit.

“I think I’d like that,” Ani finally replied. “Um - I can meet you there, I guess?”

“That’d be great!” Eleora said with a grin. “Um, I guess I should go. I have a class in ten minutes.”

Eleora bid a hasty retreat, and Ani couldn’t fight off the giggle that bubbled up out of her chest. She hadn’t even considered - Force! - she shook her head, trying to put it out of her mind for now to focus on her lightsaber.

…

The casing was done - all that she needed to do was put the mechanics in and the crystal, but she didn’t really give a shit about that right now - she had a date that she needed to be ready for!

“Ani,” Sola said, her voice brimming with amusement. “Relax and take a deep breath. I know this is the first time you’re going out on a date, but just be yourself and you’ll charm this girl’s socks off.”

“I know - it’s just Eleora, but like - what if this becomes serious… or like, what if it’s a disaster and we stop being friends?”

“I don’t think either of you would let that happen, but if it becomes something serious, then you’ll just have to learn to manage it, like you manage every other part of your life. But Ani, this is still just one date. It doesn’t have to mean anything unless you both want it to,” Sola explained patiently.

Ani gave her aunt an unamused glare. “Just - help me find something cute to wear!” she groused.

“By your leave, princess,” Sola said with a grin.

…

Ani huffed as she sped-walked across the commons. She had tried to be as sensible as she could with what she was wearing, but she still wanted to be pretty and presentable. She had settled on a crown braid combined with letting some of her curls out, an ocean blue blouse with long flowy sleeves, a black-and-red skirt and she went fully sensible with regular socks and a pair of boots.

She had added to it with the bracelet that Sola had gotten her for the Festival of Lights last year. She would’ve worn the earrings that Padmé had given her, but those were far too fancy and… meant more for if she was showing up to like, galas and stuff. Not that she ever did that these days, but still.

Instead, she had settled for some cute stud earrings that she’d gotten the last time she’d gone shopping. Add in some colorful makeup to play off of her slightly-different complexion and she thought she looked really good.

She spotted the familiar burnished-orange lekku of Eleora hanging out near the amenities table they’d set up, and Ani rushed over.

“Hey, Eleora!” she exclaimed, greeting the twi’lek girl.

“Ani!” Eleora said, turning around. She looked even prettier than she usually did. “Oh my goddess, look at you! Wow, you clean up well when you’re not showing up for a third hour lecture.”

Ani blushed. “You think I look good?” she asked. So she didn’t always get all dressed up for third-hour lectures. Sue her!

“Goddess above, yes. You’re very pretty,” Eleora said gently. “Here, hungry?”

“Famished,” Ani replied, helping herself to some of the food set out for the various students filtering in to watch the movie. “Did they mention what movie they’re playing?”

“The Prince of Theed,” Eleora commented. “I hope that’s okay.”

“No, no, I like that movie,” Ani said, waving her hand. “D’we have somewhere to sit?”

“Yep, right over here,” Eleora guided her over to a blanket laid out on the grass with a great view of the holoscreen. “I figured you might want a good view.”

“Oh, this is wonderful,” Ani said brightly, settling down. “You know, you look good too.”

“Oh, thank you,” Eleora said with a smile.

Eventually, everyone settled in and the movie started - and it was just as good as Ani remembered it was. It was different to watch it now than on Padmé’s couch, but she was still having a great time.

The movie was the extended edition, but Ani didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to it after awhile because Eleora had eventually drifted over to take her hand, and she spent quite a bit of time staring at their interlocked fingers - her pale skin contrasting against Eleora’s almost burnt orange.

Eventually, a whopping two-hundred minutes later, she and the other filmgoers were starting to get back on their feet, stretching with groans and pops and other awful noises.

“I have my speeder parked nearby, do you want me to give you a lift back to your dorm?” Ani asked gently.

“I’d like that,” Eleora said, her smile brightening up even more.

Ani escorted Eleora back to her speeder - and made the jaunt across campus to the female dorms that Eleora lived in. Ever gallant, Ani escorted her all the way to her door on the sixth floor.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Ani said, finally letting her hand drop. “Um, I had a really good time tonight. I don’t- I don’t do this super often, so-”

Her words died as Eleora pushed forward, pressing her lips against Ani’s. She felt her face erupt into a hot blush - but she almost felt…

“Hmm,” Eleora said, breaking the kiss and pulling away. “This isn’t going to work, is it?”

“What?”

“I- you know, you’re so pretty, Ani. Just mind-blowing, and I thought maybe if we went out on a date, it’d be like a thunderbolt from the blue, but… I don’t feel that thing that I thought I’d feel.”

“You too?” Ani asked, quietly.

“It doesn’t mean that I don’t like you, because I do, but I don’t - Goddess, I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I?”

“This was a great date - and you’re a great kisser, but you don’t think we’re going to fit together right?”

“Yeah,” Eleora said softly. “I’m sorry - I - am I being an asshole?”

“No, I guess maybe the Force agrees with you, because I don’t - I don’t feel anything. Padmé used to tell me that when she and Sabé had their first kiss, it was like every part of her suddenly came alive and…”

“It’s okay,” Eleora said, kissing her again. “We don’t have to be that person for each other, maybe we have someone else. I had a really good time, Ani. Maybe we can do this again?”

“Yeah, I had fun, even if it didn’t… end the way I thought it would.”

“Good night,” Eleora said gently, grasping Ani’s hand one last time before disappearing into her dorm.

Ani went home - only to find Sola sitting up watching the news. Her sister turned the holoscreen off and gave her a searching look.

“How’d it go?” Sola asked curiously.

“We had a good time - but we kissed and… didn’t feel anything. Both of us came to the same realization that we weren’t… really meant to go together? I guess? I don’t know how best to describe it.”

“You have physical attraction, but there’s no spark,” Sola concluded.

“Yeah, something like that. Is that vain?” Ani asked concernedly.

“No, not really. Love is a complex emotion, and you can feel it in so many ways, it’s very silly,” Sola replied, coming over to undo Ani’s crown braid.

“Do you think I’ll ever find someone?” Ani asked gently. “I mean, I know I’m only sixteen and whatever, but like - do you think?”

“I think anybody can find someone who is their forever person,” Sola said seriously. “I found mine with Darred, and Padmé found hers with Sabé. The person who is your forever person will… I don’t know. Challenge you, frustrate you, love you in a way you haven’t ever considered loving yourself, and will never turn away from you no matter what may come. That’s true love, princess.”

“That sounds wonderful,”

“You’ll get to experience it some day,” Sola said seriously. “Now, you should go wash your makeup off before bed. Last thing you want is to smear it all over the pillows Mom just washed.”

“You’re right,” Ani said, hugging Sola. “Good night, Sola.”

“Good night, princess.”

…

You should be aware, Ani - that the process of forming your synthetic crystal may require a certain… bond with the environment. You could create it at home, but it may not be nearly as complete and in-tune with you than if you were to create it in a place attuned to the Force…

Anakin Skywalker - for today, she was Ana’kin Ekkreth, the first freedperson of her family, and not Aniaré Naberrie, child-by-covenant of the Naberrie clan - settled her fighter down on the public starport of Kurat, a sizable town living in the shadow of San, the largest mountain on Naboo.

She had dismissed Ben’s superstitious comments when he had first shared the synthetic crystal process, and had intended to build her crystal at the university or at home. The process had not gone well, and every attempt she’d made at creating a crystal had either failed outright or produced results that were not very promising.

After some thought - Anakin had realized her problem. Being Aniaré Naberrie - it was a name that was hers, and it didn’t feel ungenuine, but she recognized that she still did not see herself that way. She would always be Anakin Skywalker, no matter how long it had been since she had gone by that name publicly.

So in the end, she had to rethink her strategy. First, she did not want to make the trip to Tatooine to do this. Second, she did not think she would get any good results in Theed - her memory actually floated back to the day she and Padmé had visited the royal gardens, and they had come across tzai, wild and growing somewhere in the Sanhari Desert.

It had been a quick trip to the central archives to find out where it had been discovered, and Anakin had a truly wondrous plan - to seek out this strange connection shared between her two home worlds.

Her heart panged as she stepped out of her fighter and wrapped her white head wrap around her mouth. As much as she was a child of the desert, she still hated sand. It was coarse, irritating, and it always got everywhere and in everything. Yet, Kurat almost felt like stepping through the looking glass to a time in her life she had long since left behind. The architecture was nothing like Tatooine, naturally, but, the way people dressed in flowing, light colors and simple fabrics, and how diverse the town appeared, it reminded her much of Mos Espa.

She made her way over to the port office. A dark-skinned man - who Anakin noticed was wearing an intricate earring chained over his right ear, indicating that he followed one of the dissenting churches that dotted parts of Naboo as you got further away from Theed.

“Good morning,” she said softly.

“Good morning, miss,” the man replied, flashing her a smile. “First time in Kurat?”

“Yes, but I am no stranger to desert climates,” Anakin replied evenly.

“Ah, a child of the desert,” the man replied - though Anakin knew that he was saying it without capital letters. There were differences between a child of the desert and a Child of the Desert. “Your accent sounds familiar - Tatooine, yeah?”

“Am I that obvious?” Anakin asked.

“No, but there are quite a lot of people here who come from Tatooine, including my lady wife. I’m used to hearing the differences in how you pronounce some words, even in Nubaé.”

Anakin laughed. “Well, I guess I should keep practicing.”

“Nah, you’re doing fine, miss. Now, let’s get you registered. How long are you staying…?”

Anakin quickly registered her ship as having docked in the bay she’d chosen, and she paid the requisite credits for long-term parking. This trip was going to take time, and was very important. She did not want to cut a single corner if she could help it.

Once she’d finished, she looked at the man. “Do you know where I might be able to find some items in town?”

“I can help, miss. What kind of items?”

“I need a shallow clay bowl, a waterskin…”

“The blood of a prey animal,” the man continued, nodding. “Yes, miss. I believe I do know where you can go for that. Head to the market and look for the shop with the red bunting over the door. You will find everything you need there.”

Anakin stopped and looked at the man curiously before nodding. “Thank you, sir. I- I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, young miss.”

…

Anakin found the shop with little difficulty - it was a rather unremarkable place that she could have missed if she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. As it was, she could even feel… a slight something in the Force as she neared. This was very strange. Very strange indeed.

She stepped through the door - a series of familiar smells overwhelming her in an instant. Letting her eyes adjust to the light, she looked around to see a litany of small ceramic bowls, waterskins, and other items all over the shelves. She even recognized some of the spices and items inside of the glass jars.

“Oh, hello there,” a female voice said, and Anakin turned to see a purple twi’lek standing behind the counter. “May I help you?”

Anakin stared at her for a few moments before looking around. “This is your shop?”

“Indeed it is,” the woman replied. “My name is Ashla.”

“Anakin,” Anakin replied with a slight smile. That had the woman giving her a curious look.

“Anakin? Very interesting name - not Nubaé, I believe.”

“It is not - though it is my name,” Anakin replied, feeling a touch amused. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ashla.”

“Likewise, Anakin,” Ashla replied. “It is not very often that I have new customers come to my humble shop.”

“Given what you have on the shelves, I can tell this is not a normal shop,” Anakin replied smoothly, giving the woman a smile. “I imagine you do not get very many customers unless they know what they are looking for.”

“Indeed,” Ashla replied evenly. “But you seem like a discerning customer. What may I do for you?”

“I was looking for a shallow clay bowl, a bantha waterskin, some spices, and I will also require the blood of a prey animal that is not juvenile, elderly, nor having given live birth,” Anakin said firmly.

Ashla gave her a very penetrating look. “That is a very specific set of items,” she said quietly.

“I plan on making a trip into the desert,” Anakin replied.

Ashla seemed satisfied by her response. “You may find the waterskins and bowls behind you on the shelves - the spices are inside of the containers on the far wall,” she said evenly. “I will fetch you what you request. Are you sure you don’t wish to use a live one instead?”

“I don’t believe that will be necessary. The desert will know my intent,” Anakin replied. She didn’t need to go through the whole process of slaughtering a live prey animal - it would take too long - but she knew that if she gave the desert a proper offering, the Mighty One and Ar-Amu would both watch over her on her trip.

She grabbed a waterskin and a bowl and set it on the counter, and went to the various containers of spice - finding exactly what she needed before Ashla returned with a glass vial. “This should suit your needs - one-hundred milliliters of redfowl blood,” Ashla said with a nod, setting it down on the counter.

Anakin nodded before looking at Ashla. “If you don’t mind me asking, Ashla… I noticed something rather strange when I arrived - something that felt like the Force. I would have completely walked past this place had I not been informed before of… what to look for.”

Ashla gave her a smile. “You should get going, Anakin,” she said, side-stepping Anakin’s questioning. “The morning is the best time to start your trip into the desert.”

Anakin felt no deceit nor manipulation from her. The Force seemed to pulsate with… equanimity. The teenager nodded, breaking the stalemate by handing Ashla a small bundle of cred chips. “Indeed, I should. Thank you very much, Ashla.”

She nearly made it to the exit before - “Anakin?”

Anakin turned to look at Ashla, who stared at her with curiosity in her eyes. “Yes?”

“If you don’t mind me asking - what is- what is your-?”

She was unable to ask, though Anakin understood exactly what she was asking. Anakin gave her a slight smile. “Ek masa nu Ana’kin Ekkreth ki,” she said. “Goodbye, Ash’layam. May the desert guide you.”

The last thing Anakin heard from Ashla as she stepped out into the marketplace again - was one reply. “Speed to your wings, Sky-walker…”

…

Anakin stopped her rented speeder behind a large rock formation - she had traveled quite a long distance from town, and she felt that this was the best place to do what she needed to do. Grabbing the box of goods she’d purchased from Ashla, she climbed out of the speeder and set it down in the sand. Kneeling down, she opened the box and set each item out - the clay bowl, the waterskin, the blood of prey…

She took a deep breath, grabbing the small knife she had on her hip. Padmé would probably complain if she saw what she was about to do, but this was important - very important. She sliced open her palm and allowed some of the blood to leak down into the bowl. She could tell that the bowl had been handmade - handmade was best, suffused with the spirit of the maker.

Perhaps it was a bit clumsy - she was now seven years out of practice of her own faith, but she remembered enough of the rituals her mother taught her to get through it. She applied the bacta patch to the slice in her palm before wrapping it in cloth, before proceeding with the rest of the ceremony. She unwrapped the vial of blood - redfowl were trivial to get on Naboo, so it made sense that they were the easiest creatures to use for rituals like this. She swiftly poured the contents of the vial into the bowl.

She mixed the two bloods - and some water together to create a slurry of sorts, before lifting it up to face the sun, murmuring the prayers from fragile memories. Praying for the Desert to guide her and protect her, and praying for Ar-Amu’s blessings in this journey of spirit.

She poured the contents of the bowl into the sand, watching as the parched terrain slowly soaked it up - it was not Tatooine, where the ground was hardened from the brutality of the suns - and Nabu was not the same as those suns of her childhood, given how much hotter the desert was on Naboo than Tatooine, but the desert understood her just the same.

She sighed. For the first time in years, she felt a stronger connection with her past than ever. With that, she thought, it was time to finish her lightsaber.

…

The hike up the mountain wasn’t exactly easy by any standard. She had been forced to leave her speeder down at the base where the trail started. The trail itself had been fine, but based on the data she’d gotten from the university, where she needed to go was located quite a bit away from the standard trail - on the opposite side of the mountain through some cave formations and some rocky outcroppings.

More than once along the trail, she thought she might have spied a small, fluffy bird with crimson feathers nesting among the shrubbery - though, she wasn’t sure. Was it just a bird, or was it an indicator of something greater? Why would - now, of all times - why would she feel closer to Ar-Amu than she’d ever felt in all the days and nights she spent on Tatooine?

Perhaps it had been her age at the time - she hadn’t been a foolish child by any stretch, knowing the rules and ways to be yourself while showing the Depur what he wanted to see, yet… It had been seven whole years since she had been to Tatooine, and seven whole years since she had truly spent time wandering her spirituality. It was perplexing, yet the Force practically sang that yes, this was right - this was good - this is what should be.

At the far edge of the trail, Anakin had to scale up a rockfall that had blocked the path - and as soon as she did, she stopped cold. Her breath hitched in her chest - the sight before her was.

Tzai - more than she had ever seen in her life, growing with reckless abandon on the limestone and shale and in the hard clay of the mountain facia, stretching into the mouth of a cavern. In that moment, all she could think of was how much she wished Kitster and Wald had been here to see what she was bearing witness to.

With little patience - and ample use of the Force, Anakin jumped off the pile of rocks and floated down softly into the vegetation. It was more than she could have ever imagined. Yet, she knew her journey was not yet done - she could feel the Force trilling, almost in anticipation as she stared at the entrance of the cavern. Darkened, yet welcoming.

When she had been a Jedi Padawan, she had heard stories - that some Jedi were often tested - tested in ways they could not fathom nor remember, and that oftentimes the Force rewarded them for their convictions and their bravery. Anakin had nothing more than a lightsaber that barely worked, and the soul of a daughter of the Desert. The Force called to her - and she obliged, stepping forward towards the cavern.

…

When she emerged from the cavern, the day had already gone, and the moon was riding high over the mountains - as well as over the desert, the light sand reflecting the light like a bright mirror. Anakin barely kept her footing, sagging against a large rock and settling down amidst the flowers of her people - of the secret that lay in plain sight.

She stared back at the entrance to the cavern and frowned. She could not remember anything about what had just happened. She had entered the cavern, hearing the distant voices of - something, and then she remembered nothing until she had emerged again.

She checked her chrono - the date hadn’t changed, but practically the entire day had been lost to whatever the fuck that was. All she was left with after that was a day gone, a pounding headache, the knowledge that she had done something in ways she could not fathom.

She looked down at her wrist, where unfamiliar charms dangled from it- a sharp, rather large tooth, a very clumsy japor snippet made in the lumpen shape that almost resembled Ekkreth, and a stamped metal medallion - the medallion was decorated with a flower that Anakin wasn’t entirely familiar with. The inscription on it was Alderaani, but she wasn’t sure why it had those inscriptions, or what they even meant.

She frowned and shook her head - the Force around her still sang with purpose and intent, but she still felt slightly off-kilter. Yet, it whispered to her - a trilling song, that now was the time for her to begin to forge her crystal. She reached for her bag and pulled it to her, pulling out what she would need to build the lightsaber forge. She dug the base into the rich, volcanic soil - before taking the power cell and clipping into the slot - the forge roared to life, and Ani quickly adjusted the knobs as Ben’s instructions had told her.

The materials all went in - simple as ever - and she knew now all she had to do was wait.

Adjust knobs.

And wait…

…

With a jerk, her eyes flared open - the sky above her was still inky dark, so it could not have been that long, surely? How in the name of all things great had she fallen asleep? If her crystal was ruined, she was going to be so upset. She leaned up, only to stop at the sight of someone kneeling at her forge, their gloved hands slowly adjusting the knobs.

“Who are you?” Anakin demanded.

The darkened figure did not turn to her - all that she received in reply was the sound of a respirator - in. out. in. out. - a rattling wheeze that turned bone marrow cold and sent waves of fear and uncertainty up her spine.

But she knew fear - she had lived in it for years. It would not be part of her now.

“Don’t just ignore me, you asshole!” she spat.

The darkened figure still paid her no mind - the fury roiled in her chest, but the heaviness weighed on her eyes.

Was she dreaming?

Her body wanted to go back to bed, but her mind spitefully fought the urge, but found it to be a losing battle. The last thing she saw before she was swamped by sleep was the armored figure rising to their feet, and with a sweep of their cloak, disappearing back into the cave.

When she awoke again, the sky was pink-and-yellow. The sun rising, poking through the haze of the Sanhari desert. It took another second longer before Anakin realized the sound of her forge was filling the air - indicating that it had finished whatever it was doing. The crystal, for what it was, was ready.

She sat up - wondering if the armored figure had just been a dream. She got to her feet and walked over to her forge, peering down and in - the forge was off, and it had long cooled by now, but at the very bottom of the basin lay the most entrancing crystal she had ever seen in her life - even compared to the one she had found on Ilum.

With the Force, she lifted the crystal out - and as soon as the early morning sun hit it, it was as if it was glowing, shimmering, the song that it sang in the Force amplifying, growing, flooding her with something… pleasant. Hopeful.

She grinned to herself, and held the crystal close to her chest. It felt like home.

Her comm began to chitter. She pulled it out and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Ani! Where have you been?!” came Sola’s voice, worried. “You’ve been out of contact for two days! You said you were just going into the Sanhari for a quick trip!”

“Two days?” Anakin asked, surprised, rubbing her head.

“Are you alright?” Sola asked - this time much quieter. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine - I’ve just been… well, I guess making a crystal for my lightsaber was a longer process than I expected,” Anakin said thoughtfully. “I’m going to be heading home now. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

Sola sighed. “Okay, princess. Call me as soon as you’re almost home.”

“I will, Sola. Don’t worry.”

Once the call ended, Ani reached into her pocket - and pulled out a strand of jerba cord. Tying it tightly around her synth crystal, she looped it around her neck. Necklaces had long been a taboo for her, so much so that once she had told Padmé that she did not wear anything around her neck as to her, it merely reminded too much of being bound in chains.

This time, however, the lightness of the jerba and the radiant - lifedeathlovebirthpeacewar - feeling that seeped out of her crystal into her skin gave her a touch of confidence in her step.

Before she left, however, she reached down and plucked a few ripened flowers from the tzai plants. She had not had her mother’s tea in years - and that desire for the taste had not gone away.

…

Rain in the Sanhari Desert was not as uncommon as one would expect. Certainly, rain was not frequent, but every now and again, the mountains would cast their shadows over Sanhari and bring the rain. Ani felt a certain degree of superstition as her rented speeder rushed towards Kurat - in the rear view mirror, the purple and gray clouds and curtain of rainfall behind her seemed to have followed her from the mountainside down and across the flats.

Straddling the line between the cleansing rains and the shining sun, the road ahead was empty - and long. She found herself thinking - her therapist always seemed to like it when she talked through her feelings, and now shouldn’t be any other kind of exception.

The tzai, the birds, the feeling the Force gave her at the mouth of that cave. The time in her mind that was smoothed over. She thought of the Jedi, and the friends she had chosen to leave behind in favor of…

She thought of the Naberries - and she thought of her Amu.

She shook her head to dispel the lingering malaise in her chest, before reaching up to gently grasp the crystal that hung around her neck.

I love them all, and I don’t regret anything.

That being said - she wanted to be strong enough to where she could walk the skies again beyond Naboo, and be able to share in both her friends from before, and her friends from now. She could be Aniaré, be Anakin, and let the starlight be her guide, and hide from nothing and nobody.

Some day - she’d get that chance. The crystal clutched in her hand almost twitched with agreement - the Force humming its own harmonious tune.

…

Sola had been - understandably - a combination of furious and concerned when Ani had finally dragged herself back home.

“It wasn’t my fault, Sola, honestly - the Force just… works weird. I fell asleep against a rock doing some stuff, and oops, a few days passed.”

“Ani,” Sola said seriously. “You can’t just not eat or drink or anything for three days. You’ve struggled so much to keep in shape, the last thing I want to see is you getting sick.”

“The Force kept me okay - trust me, and I ate something at this restaurant in Kurat just before I came home. Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t in the Scouts,” Sola said, narrowing her eyes.

“Ah, but I did swear an oath of loyalty to the Crown, that will have to suffice well enough,” Ani said playfully, wiggling her fingers at Sola. “To make it up for you, how about I make dinner for all of us?”

“You’re so devious,” Sola said with a tut. “You’re a natural politician, just like her.”

“That is the worst thing you could ever say to me,” Ani said flatly, before grinning. “I’m not a politician - believe me. I lack the patience for fools. I’d sooner run them through with my lightsaber considering most of them couldn’t give a damn about the well-being of people instead of how many credchips they can stuff into their pockets.”

“At least someone in our family sees sense,” Sola joked, before wrapping Ani close and kissing her on the forehead.

“I’m sorry for making you so worried,” Ani said earnestly. “I didn’t mean to drop out of contact for so long.”

“It’s alright,” Sola said gently. “As long as you’re safe and okay.”

Ani smiled and with a parting squeeze of her hands, went out to the workshop they’d built for her when she’d first moved in. There were a handful of droid parts scattered about the area, but the main focus of her attention now was the cleared workbench with a handful of lightsaber parts laid out - she had already fashioned the shell of her new blade, designed heavily after the saber carried by Queen Tamarai into battle - a familiar weight considering the training she’d had as a handmaiden that she had layered on top of the forms Qui-Gon had taught her with the Jedi, and Ben had explained to her over comm.

Untying the crystal from around her neck, she gently placed it into the slot where it belonged - and then closed her eyes, allowing the Force to flow through her blade - every bit of it had been intentionally designed with her emotions and heart into it. The blade grip was white, inlaid on the black curved hilt.

She took a deep breath as the blade clicked together.

This was it.

She pulled the blade into her hand, and stepped back from the workbench, turning the weighted hilt over in her hand multiple times - getting a feel for the flow of it. It was heavier than the one she had when she had been a Padawan, but it felt…

Comfortable. Correct.

She clicked the button and -

The Force practically burst with song and excitement at the same time that the blade sprang to life. Ani couldn’t keep a slight smile from crossing her face. She opened her eyes and-

“What the fuck?!”

Chapter Text

Ani folded her arms across her chest as she waited for the call to connect. After a few moments, Ben Kenobi appeared before her.

“Ah, Ani - hello,” he said with a smile. “I trust your trip was a fruitful one?”

Ani hesitated. “It was… good. I guess. If you don’t mind me asking, Ben, what color did your lightsaber turn out to be when you made it?”

“Green,” Ben said appreciatively. “Not the color I had anticipated, given that both of the lightsabers I had during my time in the Jedi Order were blue, but it felt right to me.”

“Did you pick the color?”

“No,” Ben said thoughtfully. “I suppose I was too busy just trying to keep everything from going sideways to worry about that. Is something wrong with yours?”

“It’s red,” Ani said with a huff.

“Red?” Ben asked, concerned. “Really?”

“How am I ever going to be able to use my lightsaber in any place other than pure privacy if it looks exactly like a Sith saber?” Ani questioned. “The first time a Jedi sees me whip this out, they’re going to try to take my head off.”

Ben made a displeased noise before stroking his beard. “I wish I could say you’re totally wrong. I believe that some Jedi may be a little less quick to accuse you of being a Sith acolyte, but realistically, it is an optical problem… though saber color is hardly an indicator of use of the Dark Side. There have been Fallen Jedi who have kept their original lightsabers with them and used them for dark purposes, and there have most certainly been Jedi who use red-colored sabers without any condemnation. Of course, these instances were very long ago…”

“So what should I do?”

“Do nothing,” a female voice interjected, and Ani blinked as her Amu stepped into frame– Ben had been on Tatooine, then?

“Ani, red is the color of strength, courage, and survival. It is no surprise to me that a lightsaber whose crystal calls to your soul would have such a color. It suits you like the suns suit the sky.”

Ani furrowed her brows. “You think?” she asked softly.

“Of course I do, raindrop,” Amu said gently. “Frankly I would have been more concerned if you had gotten a purple lightsaber.”

“Why would that be a problem?” Ben suddenly asked.

“Purple is a color often associated with outlanders - opulent types. Slavers,” her mother replied airily. “Color language has always been important. It is a way we can communicate with each other without words. Ani does it all the time, even if she doesn’t think about it. A yellow starfighter - a red lightsaber - the clothes she wears.”

Ani looked down at her outfit - she was in mostly whites, tans and browns for her trip into the desert. She huffed.

“It isn’t like I do it intentionally.”

“Of course not, my beautiful rainstorm, you do it because subconsciously, you know what you wish to project. All the confidence and power of someone who is free,” Amu said with a smile. “Have I mentioned how proud of you I am?”

Ani laughed at the non-sequitur, no doubt intended to distract her from her feelings. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well, I mean it. Every day, I thank the spirits that you have been blessed with the strength to be who you are. That you’ve come as far as you have,” Amu said earnestly. “No matter how useful or useless the Jedi have been.”

“The Jedi did their best, it just wasn’t… wasn’t meant to be,” Ani said thoughtfully. “I was never meant to be a Jedi in the traditional sense.”

“I suppose not,” she acknowledged. “I love you, Ani.”

“Love you too, amu,” Ani murmured to the hologram. “Will I get to come visit you soon?”

Amu smiled wanly. “I die every time you set foot on this planet, my love; because I can feel it in my bones the pain you carry with you when you remember life here,” she murmured.

She didn’t ask if her mother would ever visit Naboo - because she knew that there was still work to be done on Tatooine.

She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Ben,” she said at last. “I’m not going to stay on Naboo forever. If I do end up on Coruscant for whatever reasons - say, working in Padmé’s office - the last thing I need is for the Jedi to ask a bunch of awkward questions.”

“Let them ask those questions - having a lightsaber of a certain colour is no grounds for legal dispute,” Ben said with a scoff. “If anything, I dare say your mothers– all of them– would be more than adept at taking the Jedi Order to task for overstepping their mandate, and oh, wouldn’t that just stick in the craw of the old masters?”

“You don’t want me to fix this because you want to grind your axe against the Council,” Ani accused.

“I plead no contest to the charges, Your Highness,” Ben said airily. “Though, as a side note - might I suggest you try to do something with your old kyber? They are remarkable crystals, you know. You never know what might result from treating it with the utmost respect as it lays to rest.”

Ani wrinkled her nose in thought.

She had a few ideas…

…

Ultimately, Ani agreed with her amu and Ben that frankly, it made little to no sense to try to cover up the fact that her synth crystal had a red blade. It was what it was, honestly. She felt no anger in her heart, nor malice as she stepped through the various forms of Jedi lightsaber training.

Though perhaps it was a bit telling that her instructor in these matters was a holocron version of the Prodigal Knight - though clearly toward the end of the Sith Wars when she had snapped the mental controls of the dark Emperor, and had followed her own way. Ben had discovered it in a tomb on Octal, and had graciously sent it her way.

“This holocron is intended to instruct you in the basics of the fine art of lightsaber combat,” the holocron Jedi said archly. “Understand, Initiate, that each form has a purpose, and that mastery of a form does not mean your education is over. We shall begin with the first form - Shii-Cho.”

The Knight - Revan - pulled her lightsaber out and lit it. “The Shii-Cho stance was introduced to the Jedi Order very early in our existence. As we transitioned from swords made of metal to lightsabers, the need for adapting to the new combat style was essential. Therefore, Shii-Cho is the basis on which all Jedi learn lightsaber arts.”

Now, of course - that wasn’t to say that Ani was entirely unfamiliar with the Jedi forms. She had already had her lightsaber by the time she had left the Order, and Qui-Gon had already begun to teach her his preferred form of lightsaber wielding - Form IV, Ataru. Ani thought at the time that she had a pretty good grasp of it, but…

She hadn’t used a lightsaber properly in years at this point. She needed to practice, and that meant going back to the foremost basics. The good news about Shii-Cho was that she was familiar with teaching it…

…

“... can you believe that? Master Pavonis said that my footwork is sloppy and that I can’t advance in the class until I master Shii-Cho!”

Anakin rubbed his jaw thoughtfully - he could understand it, a bit. Master Pavonis was the type of woman who brook no argument and often sassed as hard as she got it from her students. If anything, his friend was exactly the type of student who would take repeated verbal lashings from the moody Master in order to hone her craft.

“Maybe she isn’t saying that as a criticism but as a motivator? Maybe she wants you to master Shii-Cho beyond doubt?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… I dunno, Snips. You’re good at all this Jedi stuff, right? Master Pavonis is the type of teacher who always wants her brightest students to give more than the maximum. It’s almost like a paradox of the whole Jedi thing.”

“I get it, I think,” Ahsoka replied thoughtfully. “But isn’t that against the Code? You know, hubris and all of that stuff?”

“It can be, but there’s a difference between hubris and wanting to be the best Jedi you can be,” Anakin replied. “She was pretty hard on me at first, but I learned pretty quickly. Do you want to practice Shii-Cho with me?”

“Could you? The tutoring sessions I’ve been having haven’t been working at all,” Ahsoka groused, scowling.

…

Ani stopped in the middle of her practice and stopped the holocron.

She hadn’t thought about Ahsoka Tano in years. They’d met after Qui-Gon had dumped Ani off in the Clawmouse creche not long after ‘formally’ taking her as a padawan. Ani had been nine and full of trauma and cold. Naturally, the first person she’d run into was a loud-mouthed eight year old who clashed well with her.

They had formed a natural rivalry - one predicated entirely in their need to compete with each other. Who could run fastest, who could jump higher. Naturally, the Masters had been resistant to their competition, calling it the path to the dark side, but neither child had been dissuaded… and when they’d tried physical separation, Ahsoka or Ani always snuck out to find the other.

Of course - that came to a slow stop once Ani was moved out of the Clawmouse creche into her master’s quarters, yet they always met up at mealtimes, and often snuck away during the day to spend time together wherever they could get some privacy.

She wondered how her friend was doing. Ahsoka had been getting offended and ornery about the fact that nobody had offered her a position as a padawan - Master Koon, who had taken her from Shili hadn’t offered, much to her bitter disappointment.

“Maybe I’ll wash out and end up in the Agricorps,” Ahsoka said with a sigh.

“Come on - there’s nothing wrong with the Agricorps,” Anakin snarked. “They do good work.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to be a Guardian - you know, defender of peace and justice, like all the stories,” Ahsoka grumbled.

“You’ll get someone to take you as a padawan,” Anakin said reassuringly. “Hey, you know what, if you don’t get picked by the time I get Knighted, I’ll take you as mine.”

Ahsoka laughed. “We’re only a year apart in age, you nerd.”

“Hey, I’m just being nice about it! There’s no rule that says you have to have this massive age gap between teacher and student,” Anakin defended.

“I’ll think about it, Skyguy, but I’m pretty sure I’ll find someone by then.”

“Well, you can’t say I didn’t offer.”

That had been the last time she and Ahsoka had spoken before her ill-fated mission to Bothawui. She should have reached out to her, said something. But, contacting any Jedi, even one that she cared for very deeply like Ahsoka, was not something she could do safely. Yet, even then, she felt a sting of guilt - she had left her friend behind thinking she was dead.

She sighed and extinguished her lightsaber. She hefted it in her hand and walked over to the small pot where her original crystal now lay, entombed in the potting soil. She ran her fingers along the rim.

“I’m an awful friend, aren’t I?”

…

“You know, Aniaré - for all we discuss your life on Tatooine, hardly do we ever talk about your five years with the Jedi.”

Ani glanced at Doctor Sung before sighing. “We’ve talked around it a lot, but no, we’ve never talked about those years specifically. What do you want to know, doc?”

“We’ve talked about the anger you feel about sentient slavery. We’ve discussed your anger at your paternity - and about your Jedi Master’s emotional neglect - but we’ve never addressed the other parts of your life with the Jedi. Surely you did not spend five years constantly clashing with your late master?”

“No,” Ani said, crossing her arms. “No, I did plenty of things. I don’t remember - did we talk about how I ended up there?”

“Not specifically, but I would doubt there is a soul alive on Naboo today that does not know the story of the child from Tatooine who flew a yellow snubfighter against the Trade Federation,” Doctor Sung said amusedly. “We also discussed that Qui-Gon won you in a podracing bet, but…”

“Well. The first time I ever saw the Jedi Council, it almost reminded me of the slave auctions. Standing there before the gazing eyes of a bunch of powerful outlanders sizing me up for the value they could get from my flesh. Of course, looking back on it now, it wasn’t that bad, but at the time I felt like I was being judged as a thing rather than a person.”

“How did the Jedi make you feel then?”

“Belittled. All they had to say was that I was too old, and that my emotions were the path to the dark side,” Ani recalled thoughtfully. “Master Qui-Gon stood by me, which I appreciate.”

“Do you think they were right?”

“I think my place was with the Naboo from the start,” Ani said proudly. “Jedi or not.”

“The Jedi finally took you in after the Battle - what was life like then?” Doctor Sung asked.

“You know, I was actually thinking about that the other day,” Ani said with a laugh, playing with her hair nervously. “The first year I lived in the Temple, I was basically dumped off on the creches, but Qui-Gon always lingered in the background. While everyone else in the creche had schooltime, Qui-Gon would take me and drill me in lightsaber forms, or try to dissuade me of certain habits I had.”

“Habits?”

“I used to gnaw on things. I started doing it when I was a baby. I guess it has to do with my physiology… anyway. In the creches, when Qui-Gon wasn’t basically drilling me into a child soldier, I had some friends, like Ahsoka.”

“Were you close?”

“We were, until they started separating us to discourage attachments,” Ani said with a roll of her eyes. “I’d say above all, when Ahsoka wasn’t around? I was very lonely.”

“You didn’t interact with anyone else?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I did projects and worked with other Initiates and Padawans - sometimes even Masters, but none of them… really got me. A lot of them talked shit behind my back, or had disputes with my master which made it untenable for them to spend time with me. Master Windu used to take me shooting when he could. He has an impressive collection of antique and vintage blasters.”

“Yet?”

“Qui-Gon and him got into an argument once, and he had to basically do it whenever Qui-Gon was out of the temple and didn’t take me along. It was sort of the same thing with my friends. They became Padawans too, and their Masters took them away and we just… kind of fell out of contact. That’s what happened with Ki’tan, too.”

“Do you ever regret leaving?”

“No,” Ani said automatically, shaking her head. “If I hadn’t left… I would have never found the people I call family. I would’ve… never realized that I’m not a boy, and I wouldn’t be anywhere near the person I am now. I mean. Really. The Jedi would have never allowed me to transition like this, or walk around with long hair or earrings, or anything like that. They’re very against symbols of opulence.”

“I mean,” Ani continued. “I guess when I was knighted, I could do those things? Master Windu has an ear piercing, and Master Qui-Gon always had long hair.”

“They discourage symbols of individuality,”

“Yes, but only to a degree,” Ani said with a wave of her hand. “For Padawans, definitely. Knights and Masters? Less so. Particularly when they’re away from the Temple.”

“You have mentioned before that you intend to serve as... Senator Amidala’s security officer once you complete your schooling,” the Doctor said idly. “Have you given thought to how you will interact with the Jedi once you have arrived on Coruscant?”

Ani laughed. “I think she’d curse me if I didn’t. Technically there is no law on the books against carrying a lightsaber and not being a member of the Jedi Order. I actually asked my Galactic Basic Law professor about it. Being a ‘Sith Lord’ is illegal, but it is never actually defined what that means. Only the Jedi Council can figure that one out.”

“But carrying and using a lightsaber is not illegal,” the Doctor noted.

“Nope,” Ani said primly, grinning ear to ear. “There are some other legal… loopholes in play, but being a member of the Royal Lancers will go a long way to protect me from any Jedi meddling.”

Doctor Sung laughed slightly before humming. “You mentioned you were close to this girl Ahsoka. Have you analyzed what that relationship means to you, and if you wish to rekindle it once you return to Coruscant?”

Ani exhaled deeply. “I mean, I don’t know. Probably not? By the time we see each other again, I’ll have been gone for years. How could I ever expect to be forgiven for faking my own death? I’m not going to lie to her about it, not by a long shot.”

“... True, there are consequences of your actions to consider, yet, your friend is a Jedi. Certainly they are capable of analyzing the situation and coming to reasonable conclusions?”

“Jedi are just as capable of emotional instability as any other sentient. Anybody who says otherwise is trying to sell you something,” Ani said with a snort. “But I guess I understand. I hope she’ll forgive me. I’ve been thinking about her quite a bit lately. She was… one of the first friends I had.”

“I hope so too, Ani.”

…

“Sola,” Ani said with a laugh, keeping her at arm’s length. “C’mon, it won’t kill you to wait five minutes.”

“You know that business is not meant to be conducted here,” Sola said seriously - though the look on her face betrayed it.

“It’s not business, it’s my kata! I have to keep practicing this stuff or I’ll get rusty at it. You said it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, okay?”

“I know, I know,” Sola said with a pout. “I guess I’ll tell the girls that their Aunt isn’t going to join them in the lake this afternoon…”

“Oh, come off it - I’ll be out to join you just as soon as I finish practicing,” Ani sniped. “This is our first day at Varykino, it’s not like we’re going to leave tomorrow.”

“Promise me you’ll make it a short session?”

“I’ve been practicing Form I for five months, it’s time to move to Form II. Once I complete the first lesson, I’ll be out to join you. On my honor as a Jedi.”

“You’re not a Jedi,”

Ani smirked at her, earning a playful swat from Sola.

“Are you going to wear the bikini I bought you?”

“Are you sure that’s okay? I know it was a gift but, Sola, I’m not exactly… you know…”

“That’s why I got the wraparound for your waist, in case you want to cover up a bit. Besides, who’ll see you? Or care for that matter? We’re not Alderaan, our mores aren’t so far up our ass we can’t see the forest for the trees. Besides, it’s no less revealing than some of the tops I’ve seen you wear, princess.”

“You could hardly categorize a crop top as worse than a bikini; besides it isn’t the upper part I worry about.”

Sola merely gave her a triumphant look before sweeping out of the room, leaving Ani to huff. If there was one thing her aunt - or the rest of the adults in her adoptive family - loved to do, it was tease her about how obsessive she was about fashion.

She snorted before closing her eyes - and bundling up her thoughts and brushing them aside for the moment. She needed clarity and focus for this. Turning on heel, she crossed the room to her desk and picked up the holocron. With a bit of Force, it sprang to life - revealing the Prodigal Knight once again.

“Now we begin the lesson on Form II - Makashi. This form is an extension of Shii-Cho, so designed with the express purpose of lightsaber-to-lightsaber dueling. Where Shii-Cho has favored wild, sweeping motions, Form II allows for a student to defend themselves against any opponent with minimal effort - and will allow you to secure your lightsaber from being separated from you…”

…

Ani squinted as she stepped out into the sun - Sola, Pooja, Ryoo and Darred were already in the water, while Jobal and Ruwee were hanging around just on the shoreline, enjoying the sun.

“Ani! Ani! Ani!” Pooja started chanting, causing Ani to stop in her tracks, slightly abashed.

“Are you coming into the water, Auntie?” the precocious ‘almost four’ year old asked very eloquently, watching as Ani slowly approached the edge of the docks.

“Yeah, just - trying to get over my stage fright here,” Ani said quietly - this was the first time she’d ever… worn a bikini. Or any kind of really exposing swim garment. She’d had a one-piece the few times she’d used the university pool for exercising, but this?

It wasn’t even that bad, she just… wasn’t used to it. It also made her self-conscious about the consequences of almost three years worth of hormones and what they had done to the way some clothes sat on her body.

Shaking her head slightly, she pinned her hair up out of her face, and leapt off the docks into the lake below. She paddled over to the Naberries in the water, and Ryoo, already taking to the water like a guppy, wiggled in her father’s hands to get over to her aunt.

“Oh hello, darling,” Ani cooed as she took Ryoo from Darred. “You’re a natural in water, aren’t you, sweetie?”

Ryoo gave her a gummy smile - the one year old had been smitten with Ani from the day she was born, always wanting to be around her aunt when she got a chance. If anything, it made Ani feel a bit of guilt - Padmé couldn’t be here, and had yet to meet her youngest niece in person.

Ani cooed at the girl some more before handing her back off - this time to Sola. Ani laid back on the water and swam a bit away, enjoying the combination of the warm Naboo summer sun and the cold water against her skin. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there - but eventually she opened her eyes after someone tugged on her arm.

She opened it to see Sola looking at her with a smirk on her face.

“Meditating again?” Sola ventured, earning a blush and a splash of water from Ani.

“Yeah, maybe,” Ani defended.

“So, how are you feeling?” Sola asked. “I know that Padmé handled a lot of your ‘oh my Goddess this is the first time I get to wear something irrevocably feminine’ stuff, but I know you’ve been struggling over wearing this. So…?”

“I wondered why I was so worried,” Ani laughed. “I mean, I guess I was worried about looking like a boy?”

“Princess,” Sola said soothingly. “If you wanted to cut all your hair off and go back to dressing like a Jedi, that would be your right, but I know you’re always happiest when you look in the mirror and see the beautiful young lady you’ve become. You had nothing to worry about, believe me.”

“I know, I just - one of my many flaws, I s’pose,” Ani said with a sigh, sinking deeper into the water. “Oh, Anakin, your vanity does you no service,” she murmured, recalling one of Qui-Gon’s lectures.

“Pfeh,” Sola said with a dismissive gesture. “You’re allowed to be vain, princess. Considering your past, you take great pride in your appearance and that is a good thing. Always a good thing.”

Ani laughed, before wrinkling her nose. “It’s probably time to head in. I can feel a storm brewing.”

“Lake Country, more like Rain Country,” Sola groused.

…

A thundering clash of green and red filled the air.

“Good work, Ani!” Ben called out as he leapt back, twirling his lightsaber at the young woman, waiting for her to make a move. “You’ve gotten better.”

“The Prodigal Knight has been a good teacher - as have you,” Ani said with a bow, before shifting into Form III, brandishing her lightsaber back at him. The sun had already gone down for the day, leaving the two in their informal duel circle only illuminated by their sabers and the dimming evening sun. “Though…”

“Though?” Ben asked as they clashed once more, before breaking apart.

“I have been thinking about the Ataru form,” Ani replied earnestly. “There are changes I was thinking about making, to make it… a little more efficient for me.”

“You aren’t a Jedi,” Ben said idly. “If you wished to develop your own form, I don’t think anybody would object. I might, if I think it’s silly, but you’ve always taken lightsaber instruction seriously.”

“Well yes,” Ani retorted. “It isn’t a toy, after all.”

“Do you plan to master all seven forms?” Ben asked as he twisted out of the way of another attack from Ani, catching her blade with his and forcing her back.

“I don’t think I can master Form VI, not without getting used to using two sabers at once,” Ani replied, biting her lip. “... as for Form VII, I don’t know. Master Windu showed me some of the basics once, but the fact you tread so close to the dark side…?”

“You should not be afraid of the Dark, Ani,” Ben said firmly. “It is as much part of us as the Light. It’s what you do with it that’s the problem. Darkness does not automatically equate to being a Sith.”

“You think I could handle Vaapad?” Ani asked, gritting her teeth as she once again was met with a green blade as she tried to get a jab of her blade underneath Obi-Wan’s guard.

“I think with the right instruction it’s possible,” Ben said, rolling away and wiping some sweat off of his forehead. “Did Master Qui-gon ever explain the concept of sokan to you?”

“Sokan?” Ani asked, backing away herself and deactivating her saber. Ben followed suit soon after.

“Yes,” Ben said with a nod. “Sokan is a philosophical concept of lightsaber combat that teaches a Jedi warrior how to use environmental factors to their benefit.”

Ben pointed at some nearby rock formations. “I’ll show you,” he said, jumping with a Force push up onto the rocks. Ani looked up at him, and Ben motioned around him.

“This was an example Master Qui-Gon gave me once,” Ben explained. “The high ground - a simple concept. Terrain that is higher than your opponent’s field of battle. If you were battling me, how would you get to me if I had the high ground?”

“I’d jump up to you to attack,” Ani said, folding her arms.

“Would you now?” Ben asked, eyebrows raised. “The effort it would take to clear such a gap would leave you exposed to attack. How would you beat me if you were suddenly relieved of your arms? You can’t manipulate the Force nearly as well with your toes.”

“Okay then,” Ani said, suitably chastised. “How would you defeat someone on the high ground?”

“Force them to abrogate that high ground. Saber tossing was a good method that I’ve seen Qui-Gon use against someone at a higher vantage point than him. I’ve also seen some powerful Jedi use a push to destabilize whatever it is they’re standing on. Look - I’m on rocks, yes? A swift Force blast could break them or cause the terrain to destabilize, and suddenly I’m on the defensive.”

“Huh,” Ani said, wrinkling her nose. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Sokan is a useful concept - and one worth learning and committing to memory. It could save your life.”

…

“Oh, princess,” Sola cooed, smoothing down some of the stray hairs that were escaping from Ani’s crown braid. “You look so wonderful. I only wish Padmé were able to attend, but you know…”

“The Senate keeps her busy,” Ani said glumly, smoothing out her graduation robes. Today was the day - she would get her degrees. Galactic History, Anthropology and Engineering. Then, she’d head off to the Officer Candidate School of the Royal Lancers. Twelve weeks there, and then she’d be technically qualified to take up her job. Then, finally, she’d get to see her Mum after so long of being out of physical contact. Somehow, tiny holographic conversations whenever they could be fit in just wasn’t doing it for her.

She missed Padmé so very dearly. The last time they had seen each other in person had been when Padmé had been called off to be Senator, and that was almost four years ago. Ani had been an uncertain, confused fifteen year old child. Now, she was technically an adult in the eyes of the Galactic Republic, and she felt so much more at home with her body than ever.

She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her.

“Just another month or so, and then you’ll get to see her again,” Jobal said gently, squeezing Ani’s hand. “Then you can give her a piece of all of our minds.”

Ani laughed. “I promise, I will, Gran,” she promised. “But I am sure that she’s been suffering just as much as us. Her place at the table during the Festival of Lights has been conspicuously empty for too long, and she was the one who taught me the importance of that holiday.”

“Exactly - Goddess knows why she can never get away, but I have a feeling it has to do with that rat of a Chancellor,” Jobal muttered mutinously. “I never liked that man, even when he was on the Civilian Governance Board.”

“It’s okay, I’ll make sure she and Sabé are functioning like normal people, I promise, on my honor as a handmaiden of the royal court.”

“Good girl,” Jobal said brightly, patting Ani on the cheek. “Now, looks like they’re about to begin, go get in your place.”

…

Two days following her graduation, Ani now stood at parade rest in front of a blue-uniformed officer inside of a small office.

“You go by two names,” the officer said, glancing at the paper. “Skywalker. Are you the-”

“Sir, I am the same Anakin Skywalker who served in the Battle of Theed.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the officer said, leaning back in his chair. “When they told me I’d be getting a noblewoman as a cadet, I thought you’d be a special case. Your record says you’re a former Jedi, and that your legal name was changed to preserve your anonymity.”

“Correct, sir. I was formally adopted by Queen-Emeritus Padmé Amidala four years ago,” Ani said. “I am extremely proud to call her my mother.”

“Mmm,” the officer said. “You’re here to qualify to serve as her chief of security.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, Cadet Naberrie,” the officer said, rising to his feet. “You’re assigned to Aurek Company. Report to Barracks 5. Report to Captain Apres upon arrival.”

“Yes, sir,” Ani said.

“Remember to salute your commanding officers, kid,” the officer said with a gesture at her hand. “But don’t take shit. Your psychological record speaks volumes. Let me know if you have any issues… but you’re one of those Jedi. You can probably give as good as you get.”

“I will, sir,” Ani said, saluting. “Thank you, Commander.”

“Dismissed.”

Ani made her way directly to the Aurek Company barracks, handing her papers to the ranking officer - Captain Apres, if the shiny Captain’s badge on her lapel was any indication.

“You’re the new cadet?” she asked. She glanced at Ani’s record and her eyes widened. “Ah, huh. Okay. I see. Well, good to have you aboard, Cadet. You’ll be in that bed over there. Get some sleep. We’ve got early PT tomorrow.”

…

Sola,

I don’t know why all these other Cadets are complaining so much. This isn’t much worse than the Jedi training that Qui-Gon put me through. It’s practically sunshine compared to being Gardulla’s or Watto’s slave. It’s a little bit of a climb to get back used to this stuff, but all the lightsaber training I’ve been doing has been keeping me from slipping too much. Maybe I got too used to life of luxury!

In the morning we usually have some kind of physical training, except on Restday. Hike several kilometers, do obstacle courses, and run gauntlets. I usually do better than most of the recruits, but I guess that’s because I have the Force. It makes jumping and clearing hazards far easier. The drill sergeant responsible for us has been having me do more complicated things, or helping some of the cadets who are struggling. I have no idea how this is going to go, but hey.

We’ll see.

…

Hey Sola!

So, apparently because I’m now a member of the Royal Lancers, I got a backdated combat commendation for my actions during the Battle of Naboo. I had the civilian commendation already, Captain Apres explained, but apparently everyone in the high command was basically waiting to award it to me after I joined the Lancers.

I don’t know how I feel about them expecting it, but maybe Padmé had something to do with that? Or Captain Panaka?

…

Hi, Mum!

I know you’ve been busy, but I guess I have been busy too. We haven’t had a chance to exchange messages in months, but I’ve seen you on the news debating sentient rights, furiously railing against the injustice perpetrated by the Core against us Rimward people - I can’t begin to tell you how happy that makes me, knowing that there is no greater advocate for the cause of freedom on the galactic stage than you.

Funnily enough, Amu called me last week and said much the same thing. Your stirring of the bee-hive has so many of the so called ‘galactic elite’ on their heels, reeling under the strain of the worst PR campaign they’ve seen in centuries. You both are so incredible, and it’s hard for me to say it but I hope I can be just as strong as you both are.

But anyway - enough about politics, I’m sure you’re bone-tired of them as it is.

You probably want to hear what I’ve been up to since we spoke last. I’ve been finishing up my last year at university and then going through officer training. I haven’t been this busy since I left the Jedi! You’d never hear me saying this outloud, but the discipline and order that exists in the military almost makes me feel like I’m back on Tatooine.

There’s a code of… well, I won’t say silence but a kinship here that is hard to express otherwise. I know that Captain Apres and Commander Bouin are both harsh because this is the Royal Lancers. Some of the people I work with are going to be Royal Guardsmen or Planetary Defense officers someday - and after the Trade Federation invasion, I can’t blame them for their fierceness in wanting to weed out those who won’t cut it.

Those who get through the first days of basic training are actually people who really want to help - it really does remind me of the good parts of the Jedi, like the AgriCorps.

Qui-Gon used to look down on these kinds of people - the people who saw purpose through service of mortal things. That they were wasting their lives following mortal laws and ideals - false gods, when service of the ascetic aspects of the Force was all that matters.

I don’t know, he was always one of the people who wanted to bring back the Jedi Lords. He used to go on and on about the superfluousness of galactic politics, of democracy, of transparency. He believed that the Jedi, as guardians of the Force, were best equipped to govern. Give a Jedi control of a sector of space, and he will purify it and make it whole.

Sometimes I wonder if that man was ever sane.

Anyway, I miss you dearly - and I can’t wait until I set foot on Coruscant again. I owe you like, a few years worth of hugs. And don’t think you’re going to get out of a lecture about throwing yourself into duty and forgetting about home. Gran would be very upset with me if I didn’t.

I have to go now - assembly is in five minutes.

Much love - your daughter, Aniaré.

…

“It has been a rigorous twelve weeks,” Commander Bouin said proudly. “Yet, here you all stand before me, ready to serve as guardians of the Naboo. Some of you, despite your age, served with honor in our great fight for survival against the Trade Federation; yet all of you, record of service or not, understand now the concept of sacrifice and duty in the name of your family and your sovereign.”

He raised his glass of ale. “Salut!”

“Salut!” Ani and all her fellow former cadets echoed, raising their glasses as well. The former Jedi was just at drinking age, all things considered, but she had imbibed on wine at least once. Summers at lovely Varykino would do that to you at least once or twice. She took a draft from it.

“So, Senior Lieutenant,” Taros - her former bunkmate - said, leaning up against the table she was standing at. “What’re you going to be doing now? You’re not exactly a normal officer, y’know.”

“Coruscant, I’m going to be part of the Queen-Emeritus’ security detachment,” Ani replied with a grin. “Haven’t seen Mum properly since she went off to Coruscant to become a Senator. Gran’s already written the speech I’m going to give her for it.”

“You said it yourself - she practically screams herself hoarse in that senatorial pod all day, banging on about every injustice she can think of. I know just from those holos that she’s already made enemies with about two-thirds of the Core. Maybe she’s been held hostage by the system? If she leaves, a lot of the hard work she’s done will be undone.”

“Probably- I wasn’t actually intending to give her grief,” Ani said dryly. “I was just going to tease her a bit. Besides, she’s had her partner there to keep her from going too around the bend.”

“Yeah, besides, if she left, who would replace her? Jar Jar Binks?”

“Jar Jar’s not bad. He’s just a bit ditzy,” Ani said with a sigh.

“You’ve met him?”

“A few times, yeah,” Ani murmured, with a wink. “He’s a nice guy, he just has a bad habit of getting into trouble.”

…

It was not as easy as she had thought to get clearance to come to Coruscant immediately. The Royal Lancers had wanted her to do another double tenday of training on some finer points of being a personal guard; and once that was done, they had dogged her about ensuring that her N-1 starfighter (technically a ‘snubfighter’, but that was nitpicking) was up to spec - if she was going to take it to Coruscant with her as a personal and duty craft, it would have to be properly equipped and registered.

Even that had training accompanying it - Commander Bouin himself had given it, explaining to her in detail the most common methods of starship sabotage.

“As I am sure you are aware, Lieutenant, even the most competent Jedi can be bamboozled by some methods of sabotage,” he said seriously - and oh, like Ani was going to forget how her lamentable Jedi teacher had gotten himself blown up by foolishly assuming nobody would be so baldly obvious as to try to assassinate a Jedi Knight.

“I have had some experience with having your ship sabotaged,” Ani commented as he took her through what an ion scrambler could do to a hyperdrive. “I raced in the Boonta Eve Classic when I was nine. One of the competitors, Sebulba, sabotaged my engine so it would break in the middle of the race. I ended up having to do on-the-fly repairs.”

“How did that go for you?” the Commander asked curiously.

“I won,” Ani said firmly. “Wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Ah,” he replied. “Well, good. The galaxy would be far worse off without you, Lieutenant.”

After all that was done, Ani was finally given a pass to assume her duties on Coruscant. After teary and fond farewells shared between her family, and a promise to look after Padmé, Ani boarded her fighter alongside her R-unit.

“Are you ready?” she asked her companion. The R-unit let out a blitter of noise, rotating her ocular mechanism once in affirmation.

“Good.”

After a quick rundown, the N-1 took off for the skies, climbing beyond the clouds and into the stars. Once she’d put a bit of distance between herself and the planet she now considered home - she turned the nose of her craft coreward.

“Coruscant, here I come.”

In a blur of light, the lone N-1 starcraft jumped to lightspeed.

Chapter Text

Coruscant. A planet that Anakin Skywalker had not laid her eyes on in four years. When she had left it behind, it had been a reluctant home. A place she had not chosen to set root, but a place that had been chosen for her. A cold and lonely place despite how loud and populous it was. She had climbed into the stars one final time as a Jedi Padawan aboard an ambassadorial craft.

Now, she returned again - changed; so different than the angry boy she had been when she had slipped the surly bonds of this world.

A flurry of beeps interrupted her thoughts, and Ani looked up to see a rather aggressively blinking light on her comm dashboard. She sighed and slapped the button. A male voice filled the cockpit.

“Nubéian N-1 snubfighter; this is GalSec. Identify yourself.”

“Senior Lieutenant Aniaré Naberrie of the Naboo Royal Lancers. Registration number SR-7580, requesting high security clearance in Sector 001.”

“Standby, Lieutenant,” the voice said gruffly before cutting off. He returned a few moments later. “You are cleared to land in Sector 001, Lieutenant. Please prepare all documentation for inspection upon landing. Your embassy will be contacted.”

The line went dead - causing Ani to raise her eyebrow. “Are they usually that brusque?” she asked rhetorically to herself. Clearly her mother was far from the most popular woman among the Coruscanti elite if she was already dealing with profiling.

The landing into Sector 001 - the Senatorial District - was rather easy. There were plenty of GalSec traffic guidance vessels willing to help get her to the spot that had been set aside for her in the Naboo delegation’s area. Just about as soon as she’d powered off her engines, she’d been approached by a number of GalSec agents.

“Manifest please,” the leading officer said. Ani scowled and reached into her flight jacket and handed him the folded up piece of flimsi.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you, Squad Commander,” Ani said. “Personal effects and necessary material to take up my position as the newly appointed Chief of Security for the delegation for Naboo.”

“Any weapons to declare?”

“Yes, actually,” Ani said. “Three.”

“Three?” the man asked, blinking in surprise.

“Yes - three.”

She pulled her flight jacket aside to reveal her holsters. She tapped her first weapon with her hand. “Geonosian-made slugthrower, issued by the Royal Lancers.”

“A slugthrower? Bit… antiquated, no?”

“Considering the struggles of our people, one never knows when they might need to shoot someone with a lightsaber,” Ani said flatly.

“Mmm, right. The other weapon?”

“A standard issue S-5 heavy blaster,” Ani said. “Why limit yourself to just one type of blaster?”

“Right,” the man said, noting it down for whatever bureaucratic nonsense it was going to be used for. “Anything else?”

“One last thing,” Ani said, pulling her flight jacket aside on the other hip - revealing her lightsaber.

“A lightsaber?”

“Correct - there is no law saying that only Jedi are permitted to carry them. I am merely exercising my rights as a citizen of the Republic. This weapon is certified by the Royal Lancers as well, if you need to see that documentation.”

“That will not be necessary,” the officer said firmly, a hint of fear appearing in his eyes. “I apologize for our intrusion, Lieutenant Naberrie. Merely regulation.”

“I’m sure,” Ani drawled. “Far be it from me to interdict GalSec business.”

The officer bowed his head shallowly before he - and his goons - left unceremoniously. She grabbed the remainder of her belongings and did a quick cast of her senses over her ship - looking for anything unusual or new that hadn’t been there when she did her last check. Fortunately, none of those GalSec idiots had been stupid enough to try to booby-trap her ship right in front of her.

She knew someone would try eventually, but she’d be more clever than those assholes.

It was a short walk across the platform to the Naboo Complex - based on the notes she had been given by the Ministry of Galactic Relations in Theed, the top floor required a special keycard to access, and her office would be on one of the upper floors along with many of the Senator’s other aides and assistants.

After checking in with the security guard - yet another identification check and bureaucratic back-and-forth, Ani finally got to the elevators.

She tapped her keycard to the elevator touch screen, and after a ding, the elevator doors closed and it began to move upward. She shifted her bag on her back and took a deep breath. She hadn’t seen Padmé in years - through no fault of either one of them, really.

But - she was going to see her again - she was all aflutter with excitement!

The elevator stopped at the top floor, and the doors swept aside. The apartment was about as fancy and as spacious as Ani had thought it might be - after all, her mother was never one for living in spartan quarters, even if she had wanted to. Maybe Padmé had once been an angel and was being paid for all of her great achievements in a previous life by being practically forced into grand opulence at every turn.

“Hello?” she called out into the empty room - perhaps Padmé was at work right now? She wasn’t sure if the Senate was in session today or not.

“Ani, is that you?” came a familiar voice - though not Padmé’s.

Sabé emerged from one of the rooms carrying a pile of blankets, and her eyes lit up upon seeing the younger woman. “Ani! Oh stars above, look at you! You’re finally here, Padmé is going to be so thrilled!”

She dropped what she had been carrying and flew across the room to crush Ani in a bear hug. “You know that woman has been talking non-stop about you coming here since she heard you’d finished OCS? She’s been practically frothing at the mouth about it. Never you mind that she’s been utterly pissed that she’s had to miss out on four years of your life because of the daft-and-backwards Senate, but the fact you’ve been so tangible and close?”

“She’s missed me that much, huh?” Ani asked curiously, giving her... other mother a slight grin.

“Like a limb that’s been shorn off,” Sabé said seriously. “Now, come - sit, I’ll put a kettle on. Tell me all about what you’ve been up to since we left. I’ve read all your letters, of course - over Padmé’s shoulder most of the time, but still. Dish!”

Ani dropped her bag on one of the available loveseats and moved over to the table where Sabé had already set out some tea cups. The older woman disappeared into the kitchen again before returning again.

“Shouldn’t be more than a few minutes, but seriously - so, university?”

“It went fine,” Ani said earnestly. “I mean - I didn’t do anything crazy like some of the students who were in fraternities or sororities did, but I had my share of fun. I got a second-hand hoverbike from this guy in Theed, rebuilt the engine and used it to get to class every day. I went on a date with this cute girl once, but it didn’t work out… uh… I dunno, it was normal university life. I think the oddest it ever got was the fact that some of the people in the Galactic History department knew that Padmé was my mother, and the one professor but…”

“It was a good experience either way,” Sabé said with a nod. “Well - I wish I could say our life here has been exciting, but not really. I sort of act as Padmé’s secretary and her fiancé - but I don’t really go out and do much.”

“Not at all?”

“Nope - unless there’s a function or dinner,” Sabé said with a sigh. “I’ve had cabin fever for ages.”

“There are some places I know of that… might be fun to go to,” Ani said. “If they’re still running, that is. It’s been years since I’ve been on Coruscant, but most of those places weren’t so illegal that GalSec would come down on them.”

“What kind of places?”

“Swoop bike racing dens, primarily. I raced a couple of times. One time I actually ran into Master Windu incognito - he was investigating something down there, and both of us looked at each other and agreed to never speak about it again.”

“You mean the stern bald one with the purple lightsaber?”

“That’s him,” Ani said with a slight smile. “He’s not that bad once you get to know him. He could be much - much - worse.”

“That’s good to know. He’s one of the Jedi that sometimes show up at the Senate whenever they feel like taking the Jedi to task about something inane. He seems like it’s the last place he wants to be, half the time.”

A small timer went off, and Sabé quickly moved out of the room - and came back again quickly, carrying a tray of tea. She poured herself and Ani a measure each. Ani picked the mug up and took a small sip.

“So, you went on a date with a cute girl?” Sabé teased.

Ani nearly choked on her tea but gave no outward indication other than a pained wince and a rather throaty swallow. She massaged her throat and glared at Sabé furiously.

“Yes. I went on one date with this cute girl that was in one of my classes. We went to one of the campus movie nights. We held hands, and then she kissed me when I dropped her off but… I mean, we didn’t really feel anything. Like it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Oh,” Sabé said. “Did you at least enjoy it?”

“Oh sure - the kissing was fun and all, but I was sixteen. Far too young to really be worried about dating anybody. I think that might have been part of the reason? Eleora was a year or so older than me since she was a freshman, but it just… didn’t come together like you think it would. I wasn’t too broken up about it, I guess.”

“You’ll find your right person eventually. I never thought I’d find my true love, but then your mother came traipsing through my life and nothing was ever the same,” Sabé replied dreamily. “Don’t give up hope yet, Ani.”

“I’m not - just not actively seeking it out. Maybe I will find the right one, but right now my focus is just helping Padmé finish out her time as Senator. Then, when she’s done, maybe I’ll find my partner out in the cosmos somewhere.”

She sighed. “Where is Padmé, anyway? Busy at the Senate again?”

“Unfortunately,” Sabé groused. “I swear, she gets into verbal sparring matches with the delegates from the Core on the regular. I don’t know why she even bothers trying to be diplomatic with that stupid cunt Mothma or that boot-licking arsewad Organa. They’re both running dogs for whatever shite Palpatine wants to shoehorn through the Senate.”

“That bad?”

“Mmm,” Sabé grumbled. “The problem is that the legislative efforts of the Core have really been focused on strengthening themselves lately. A lot of tariff exemptions that don’t apply to the mid-and-outer rim; Padmé’s sentient rights legislation has been watered down and voted down so many times because Alderaan, Chandrila and Ryloth all rely on indentured servitude for their societies to function.”

“Slaver scum,” Ani growled.

“Yeah,” Sabé said with a sigh. “There are a lot of rumblings in the meetings Padmé attends where many rim worlds are starting to agitate to leave the Republic. Padmé and the group of worlds that Naboo is allied with are all maintaining their current position and are trying to find some reconciliation with the Republic, but considering how even the most basic courtesy seems beyond these arseholes, I have my doubts any good will come of it.”

“Padmé is trying to work herself bare to save the Republic,” Ani said knowingly. “You know, I could give the Queen a piece of my mind, forcing Padmé to miss out on so much of her family for this nonsense.”

“You and I both,” Sabé agreed. “I keep telling Padmé she should just resign as Senator and go into philanthropy like Cordé did. Cordé lives a quiet life now, y’know? She farms a handful of things and spends every alternating week working with charities across some of the poorer provinces on Naboo. It’s wonderful.”

“She’d go spare doing that,” Ani shot back. “Padmé loves to lead and to charge forward and change things. If she’d been Force sensitive enough, she’d probably be a Jedi Master by now.”

The elevator made a mild ding sound. Ani turned to see the doors slowly opened to reveal a very frazzled and harried looking version of her Mum. She looked like she probably hadn’t slept very well in the last few days if the shadows under her eyes and the slight hunch in her gait was any indication.

She was accompanied by someone this time - and it took Ani a few moments to recognize her. She was far taller than she had been the last time they had seen each other, but the thing that made her realize exactly who it was she was looking at was the small chord of fabric that was tied around her wrist - it had been a gift shared one of the last Yeardusks they had shared.

“Sabé? I’m home,” Padmé said aloud, trudging before falling face-first onto the loveseat. “Also, ‘Soka’s here too.”

“Hi, Sabé,” Ahsoka greeted the other woman warmly. “Sorry to drop in on you again.”

“You’re always welcome here, Ahsoka,” Sabé said genially. “Having trouble with your master again?”

“Eh,” Ahsoka said with a shrug. “He’s too busy brown-nosing a bunch of the stupid core senators. He thinks that if they think that they have a Jedi they can turn to, they’ll be more likely to vote in our favor.”

Ahsoka turned to look at her. “Oh, I’m sorry - forgive my rudeness,” she said, before bowing. “Junior Diplomat Ahsoka Tano at your service.”

“Junior Diplomat?” Ani asked, curiously.

“Yep,” Ahsoka replied, popping the ‘p’. “I’m Master Eyin Talis’s Padawan. Jedi Consular Corps, that’s what my life’s greatest calling is, apparently.”

“ Consular Corps ?” Ani asked, flabbergasted. “You- ah, you seem like you’d be far more suited for the Guardian Corps.”

“You’d think so, but no, apparently I’m too aggressive, too emotional. Old arses,” Ahsoka grumbled, dropping onto the loveseat. “Sorry, I don’t mean to defame our illustrious Council in front of representatives of another planet blah blah blah…”

“It’s okay,” Ani said earnestly. “I think Master Windu is just about the only master on that council I respect anyway.”

“You know him?”

“I do,” Ani said with a nod. “We haven’t spoken in years, of course, but he was always very kind and gracious to me, even if he wasn’t always sure how to deal with me. It sounds like you’re miserable with the Jedi. Why stay?”

Ahsoka sighed, fingering the strip of leather on her wrist. “It’s… complicated.”

Ani frowned. “Complicated?” she asked quietly. “Why so?”

“I… thought about leaving a few years ago. A friend of mine… died on a diplomatic mission. He was just about the only person I knew in the Jedi Order who wasn’t a complete stick-in-the-mud. After his death, I became awfully depressed. Here I was, a nearly thirteen year old Initiate, already starting to reach the age where no Master really wants to teach you anything, having lost the only real friend I had in the whole Temple other than Barriss I guess…”

Ahsoka took a deep breath. “I nearly left to strike out on my own… but I didn’t. I decided that instead I would live up to the dreams he used to tell me about. He wanted to someday become a Jedi Master and free slaves. So, I stayed, and I’ve been trying to use my apprenticeship to do something like that. At least try to help and influence people. It’s how I met the Senator, she’s been very helpful in teaching me how to negotiate with people.”

Padmé had already moved from being face-down on the loveseat to sitting up, propped on it like it was all that was keeping her from falling over again. “She’s come a long way. She only wants to pull her lightsaber on people once a month instead of many times a week.”

“Patience is a virtue,” Ahsoka deadpanned, before shrugging. “So yeah - that’s why I stay a Jedi.”

Ani stayed silent for a moment - her thoughts, emotions, everything was kind of in a whirlwind. Ahsoka had - kept a sort of vigil for her. Had done the un-Jedi thing and had tried to live up to her memory.

“Ahsoka,” she said suddenly, looking at her old friend. She could feel the sting of regret in her eyes, but she couldn’t lie.

“It’s me,” she whispered. “I- I didn’t die. I- I abandoned the Order.”

Ahsoka stared at her - a mixture of shock and horror filling her eyes. “Wait - what the fuck? You- you’re Skyguy?”

“Anakin Skywalker. Aniaré Naberrie. Same person. Different identities,” Ani said gently.

Ahsoka whipped her head around to glare at Padmé. “You knew this the whole time?” she asked thunderously.

“It was never my truth to tell,” Padmé defended nervously. “Ani didn’t want the Jedi Order coming back to reclaim her if they knew she had lived.”

“You- you could have told me!” Ahsoka shouted, shooting to her feet. “Ani - after all we did together as kids, you could have at least told me you weren’t dead, you asshole! This is so fucked up! I mourned for you! I cried harder than I’d ever cried in my life! I had a candle vigil going for you from the day they said you’d disappeared to the moment they declared you one of the Lost. I- I can’t believe this!”

“Ahsoka-” Ani started.

“No!” Ahsoka cut her off. “Fuck you, Anakin Skywalker! You don’t just get to walk back into my life like nothing has changed! Do you know how much I missed you? That every day I sat in the creche hoping you’d walk through the door with that stupid smudge of grease on your face, grinning like a lothcat because you’d figured something else out that the stupid Masters would have never thought about?”

“I know, I should have said something, but I was a terrified fourteen year old who’d just lost her Jedi Master. As much as Qui-Gon was an asshole, I had no idea what to do now that I didn’t have him!”

“It doesn’t matter. You could have at least told me. Just - go fuck yourself, Anakin.”

Ahsoka left that as she stomped off to the elevator in an angry haze, leaving behind a still awkwardness.

“She was your friend?” Padmé ventured.

“My best friend,” Ani muttered, wiping a tear from her eye. “I chose you over her.”

“She’ll come around eventually,” Sabé said helpfully.

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Ani said sadly. “I hope so, but I don’t blame her if she never wants to see me again. I could have sent her a message or something, let her know I was okay. I just… didn’t. Doctor Sung told me I’d have to deal with the consequences of my actions, but I thought - I thought maybe Ahsoka would understand.”

“She may still understand,” Padmé said gently. “She’ll just need time to come to terms with it.”

“Yeah…” Ani murmured, though her brooding thoughts were quickly set aside as she was swept into a bear hug.

“I am so glad to see you again, Ani,” Padmé murmured. “I’ve missed you so much. Look at how big you’ve gotten.”

“It’s been a few years, Mum,” Ani said wryly, glad for the change in topic. “You’re lucky you have my arms pinned or I’d give you that slap upside the head that Gran told me to give you.”

“Believe me, nobody is more annoyed at me than myself about taking this stupid job in the Senate so seriously. I’ve missed so much at home, and I have nothing more to show for it than the animosity of about two-thirds of the Core’s aristocratic elite,” Padmé growled. “On top of the Trade Federation doing everything they can to make my life hell.”

“Scumbags,” Ani agreed. “How about you and I both agree that we’ve been thick headed at times in the last few years, and agree to work together?”

“We’ve always been better together, princess,” Padmé agreed, squeezing Ani tighter. “Family is the most important thing.”

…

“Are you okay, Padawan?”

Ahsoka glanced to see Master Windu standing neutrally at the doorway to the shrine to the Lost. The Haruun master was always difficult to understand, Ahsoka knew that, but there was a gentleness to the way he was standing and looking at her that struck her as odd.

“I’m… no, I’m not okay,” Ahsoka said, before going back to stare at the spot on the shrine where Anakin’s name had been etched into it, just below Qui-Gon Jinn’s. She kept a piece of his funeral shroud in her room, that great big - fucking - inconsiderate - beautiful - arrogant - self-satisfied arsehole!

“Would you like to talk about it?” Master Windu ventured, coming to sit beside her. “Be mindful of your emotions, Padawan. Letting them fester is not productive.”

“Anakin Skywalker is alive,” Ahsoka said quietly. Master Windu seemed to be caught flat-footed by that, but he quickly recovered.

“Did you just say-”

“Yes,” Ahsoka said. “He- I thought he had died in the attack that killed Master Jinn. He… ended up with the Naboo. He was apparently adopted by the Senator.”

“Queen Amidala,” Master Windu said knowingly, before he sighed and pinched his nose. “Well, that’s actually the best news I’ve ever heard.”

“Master?”

“I blamed myself for Anakin’s death for years,” Master Windu admitted. “That I didn’t do enough to keep him safe from Master Jinn’s ambitions. That I should have intervened, kept him here on Coruscant and made sure that we took care of him properly. But, I allowed myself to be pulled along by the Council’s collective wisdom. That Qui-Gon, for all his faults, was the right kind of maverick to train a child like that.”

Master Windu took a deep breath. “Knowing that Anakin Skywalker survived and has obviously been thriving is a relief.”

“She seemed very happy,” Ahsoka noted.

“Her. I see. You met her?”

“She was in her... mother’s, I guess, apartment when I arrived with the Senator. She - revealed her identity to me. I told her she was an arsehole and told her to go fuck herself.”

Master Windu nodded understandingly. “Do you understand why showing that kind of emotion was unwise?” he asked curiously.

“It potentially burned bridges that I may someday want to mend,” Ahsoka replied with a huff. “I-she could have at least messaged me. Called me. Something. She says she was afraid that the Council would come after her if she didn’t.”

“She’s right,” Master Windu said flatly. “The Council was never fond of letting Anakin leave their remit for more than a few days at a time. For a group that was skeptical of Master Jinn’s claims, they certainly believed in it enough to want to keep Anakin under wraps. I understand that you might be upset, Padawan, but understand that Anakin did not act from a place of malice.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka said glumly.

“It is your choice whether you wish to extend an olive branch or not, but keep in mind that the Jedi thing to do would be to forgive… it would also be the kind thing to do to someone whose life has been so thoroughly derailed time and time again. You don’t need to forgive easily, but you can try to let Anakin make amends.”

“Maybe you’re right, Master,” Ahsoka murmured. “I’ll think about it, I guess.”

“If you do, let her know that she can contact me anytime,” Master Windu said simply, before rising to his feet. “She was always one of my favorite younglings.”

Ahsoka stared after the departing Master, wondering just who had replaced the stoic and scowling Mace Windu with someone who almost seemed fatherly.

…

Meet me at the place we used to hide from the Masters

-AT

…

Ahsoka felt a mixture of trepidation, indignation and just - general anxiety, honestly - about this whole thing. Anakin had come back into her life and she had… taken it so poorly. She was mad at her friend for basically forgetting she existed for four years, but she was also just so fucking relieved that she was alive.

If Master Windu was right, and they were going to be that controlling, then Anakin had made the right choice. At fourteen she had been so… enthusiastically led by Jedi dogmata. Now, at eighteen, having spent so much time on the outside looking in, being lectured for being unlike a Jedi, she was just tired now.

The sound of the hatch opening made her turn to see Anakin climbing through the portico. Even if Ahsoka wanted to try to be better, it was still difficult to see how much her friend had changed. So much of the old awkwardness was gone. Instead of short-cropped hair with the natural rat-tail padawan braid hanging down, Anakin had grown out a positively lovely pile of blonde curls - her blue eyes shined brighter, if possible, and she just seemed - so much more right than she had been four years ago.

“Hey,” she greeted, folding her hands inside of her robes. “I… wanted to apologize for the way I reacted earlier.”

“It’s okay,” Anakin said, her eyes turning towards the Coruscanti skyline. “You were more than entitled to be upset. I was a bad friend, forgetting you and leaving you here all by yourself. I should have done something to reach out to you, or maybe help you however possible…”

“I would have told you to come back,” Ahsoka said with a sigh. “For all that I was an outsider in the creches, I was still loyal to the Council. It’s better that I thought you were dead, then I couldn’t have been a snitch.”

“Don’t sell yourself so short,” Anakin replied. “Do you want to hear a bit about my life since I left?”

“I’d love to. I… actually liberated some food from the replimat, if you’re interested.”

“Ah, Jedi rations,” Anakin said dryly, a hint of sarcasm in her words. “My favorite.”

“It’s all I’ve got,” Ahsoka defended. “I don’t exactly have a bunch of creds to drop on food, you know.”

“No, it’s fine - I’m just teasing,” Anakin replied, accepting the offered ration bar, taking a bite from one. “It’s okay, I’ve been subsisting on Naboo military rations for the last few weeks anyway. They’re the first thing I’ve ever had in my life that actually sets off my stomach. Apparently one of the ingredients in it is not something that’s palatable to us.”

“Us?”

Anakin blinked. “It’s a long story,” she said. “I’m not fully human. Apparently, uh, I do have a father, and he was apparently a Togruta. Some outworlder bounty hunter did Gardulla a favor and was given a night with my mother as payment.”

“Oh,” Ahsoka said, frowning. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s what it is,” Anakin said with a shrug. “Mom and I are both over it by now. I don’t really show anything that makes me look like one, other than a couple slightly pointier parts of my head under all this hair, a particular preference for red meat, and a couple extra teeth, but when I was at university, I joined some of the culture clubs and learned a bit more about Shili.”

“Really?” Ahsoka asked, curiously. “I… will admit that I’ve been curious about doing something to feel more in touch with my species. Master Ti went on her akhul’na’sanar, and she said that it made her feel more in touch with the Force and her sense of self. I’ve been thinking about asking for a leave of absence to go do it myself.”

<<Akhul’na’sanar, iy’ah,>> Anakin said with a grin, revealing a small bracelet on her wrist. She turned one of the trinkets over to face her - and it showed a large tooth, taken from a beast of some significance. It wasn’t a Nexu or an Akul, she knew that.

“I don’t even remember hunting this creature, but an anthropology expert at the university told me that it is the tooth of a mature wampa from Hoth. I’ve never been to Hoth, but considering everything that went on that day, I… figure that it was the Force being funny.” Anakin continued in Togruti - and Ahsoka was impressed. Even without the lekku to communicate, Anakin’s tongue clicks gave her a nearly impeccable accent.

Ahsoka’s surprise continued as Anakin told her the story of how she came to have her current lightsaber - the fashioning an artificial kyber crystal (sacrilege if any of the Masters heard about that) and her trip into the desert, meeting a dark shadowy figure, and then…

“The only problem with my lightsaber is this,” Anakin said, pulling it from her hip and igniting it. Ahsoka jumped and stared at the crimson saber, before glancing back at Anakin.

“Red?”

“The Force seems to want to be as amusing as possible. Ben, a friend of mine - he used to be Qui-Gon’s Padawan, if you remember him, he says that his saber came out green. Mine, for some stupid reason, is red. It’s fine, though. Red is a good colour for my people on Tatooine.”

“You know that some of the Jedi are going to think you’re a Sith apprentice the minute they see that, right?”

“I know, but won’t it be fun for me to beat them up and then drag them before a court to sue the robes off of them?” Anakin replied cheekily. “You forget I’m part of the Nubeian diplomatic entourage, and owning a red lightsaber is not illegal in the Republic either.”

“As if the Jedi Council understands nuance,” Ahsoka said with a scoff. They didn’t. These were the same idiots who continued their tremendous circlejerk in their ivory tower and ignored the reality of the situation on Coruscant - and in the galaxy. She read the holos. She knew that things were getting progressively worse.

“Ah, but this is how we force them to see nuance. Also, technically, Lost Jedi are never taken off the records. They’re not like those who leave like Master Dooku or Ben. They are very specifically left on the records because Jedi philosophy preaches that death is not the end, merely a new beginning.”

“You were never this frustratingly clever,” Ahsoka argued. “You used to think that slashing something up with a lightsaber was all you needed to get your point across.”

“I changed, what can I say? I’m the adopted daughter of the most firebrand politician in the galaxy and spent my teenage years among people who believed in diplomacy and kindness. I get it now, more than I would have at fourteen.”

Ahsoka snorted.

“Anyway,” Anakin continued. “If you want my opinion? I think going on an akul hunt is probably not the worst thing in the world to try. You never know what you might find out about yourself from doing it. The Force loves shoving the truth of your life into your face during spiritual experiences like that. My trip into the desert was part of exploring my soul, so going to Shili to hunt? It could do the same thing for you.”

Ahsoka smiled. “Yeah - you know what, I… I think I will. I’m sure I can get a leave of absence for spiritual reasons if I ask Master Ti. It’s not like I’m doing anything important these days anyway.”

They sat there in silence for a bit longer - and Ahsoka couldn’t help but feel a certain… lightness now that Anakin was back in her life. It was like she’d been missing something important for years, and it had very well been an Anakin-shaped hole in her life.

She wondered if her friend - pretty, gorgeous, incredible - felt the same way.

…

Ani knew that she was absolutely tempting fate with how brazenly she showed herself off around Padmé at Senatorial meetings; it did not take very long before she the rumors began to fly around the Senate offices about the “blonde security officer with the lightsaber”, and whom she might be that she had ended up in the employ of the controversial populist Senator from Naboo.

Many thought she was a Jedi - with the way she carried herself, and the way she seemed to be capable of premonition. Many more thought she could be a Force-sensitive bounty hunter like the infamous Aurra Sing - more often than not eyes straying to the blasters on her hips.

Many of them were just being nosy bastards, really, so she paid it no mind. It was actually funny to her, and it gave Padmé a much needed break from being the constant source of attention, allowing her work to speak for itself while her chief of security made ripples by her very presence.

In fact, the Chancellor had been one of the first to ‘catch on’ to guess her identity, strangely enough. That calculating machiavellian old man had started chatting her up right in the middle of a meeting with Padmé over some legislative effort that he was once more interdicting with his very existence and presence in the Senate, playing to the “enlightened centrists” of the Core and neglecting his own people in the process. Padmé had been offended, but the old man had dismissed her out of hand, as if she weren’t a powerful woman.

He was always far too curious about her life for his own good- it was weird when she was fourteen, and it was weird now.

Asking her why she had disappeared from the Jedi so suddenly - if the Jedi had mistreated her or something - showing his “relief” that she had joined the Naboo. It almost seemed kindly, if she hadn’t been trained for years to read the truth thoughts of politicians without them knowing - he didn’t really believe in ninety percent of what he said, truly the old arsehole just wanted more power for himself and his human-centric running dogs.

Nearly every Core Sector politician was like that, really.

Bail Organa of Alderaan’s thoughts were only for the continued stability of his family’s power as Viceroy - they had already compromised on the crown itself, surrendering their permanent claim to it in exchange for marrying the Antilles heiress and becoming Viceroy in-perpetuity. He didn’t seem to care much about the millions of indentured slaves or the economic disparity in Alderaan’s cities, so long as he was living in true comfort.

Mon Mothma of Chandrila was similar - though her concern was only for mercantile influence, to the point where she often spent time thinking of ways to suborn some of the Trade Federation policy goals to weaken the power of Corellia and Kuat in favor of her own world’s shipyards and merchant fleet.

When the Jedi Council politely ‘requested’ Anakin’s presence less than a half-week after that meeting with the Chancellor, she had stared at the summons in hand and wondered if she could get away with telling them to eat sand without causing a diplomatic crisis.

“No, Ani, you should go. Put those old men in their place,” Padmé said thoughtfully. “I’ll make sure that there’s an ambassadorial staff member and a barrister with you on reserve to take care of the legal matters if they should make a big deal of it.”

Going into the Jedi Council chambers as a nine-year-old slave was intimidating - a cause of great fear that lanced through every part of her soul.

Now, however?

She was an eighteen year old woman. A Lieutenant in Her Majesty’s Royal Lancers. A daughter - by legality - of the Most Royal House of Amidala. A daughter of the Suns. All sorts of other things that made her know who she was and what she stood for. A bunch of ossified old monks were not going to intimidate her.

Clearly the rumors had already begun to spread across the Temple as well, as she got more than one curious - or dirty - look from some of the Jedi who were working as temple guards. Other than that, the trip to the Council chambers was… well, she wasn’t sure how to put it. A trip down a very particular memory lane that she had thought she’d never really bother with again.

Yet, here she was now, once more into the belly of the beast!

“Wait here, I will send for you if you are required,” she said gently to the barrister and the ambassadorial representative whom Padmé had insisted she take with her. “The Jedi might be a bit spooked if I go in there locked-and-loaded.”

The Jedi Council were waiting for her - naturally - darkened in the shadows as the shades had been pulled down over the windows. The only lights were some of the artificial ones lit on the walls. She drew herself up to the most regal pose she could take - the training as a handmaiden came in handy, really - and strode through to the center of the room. She had made an intentional choice, wearing her Senior Lieutenant uniform, with all the insignia that came with it. She’d also decided to wear her medals and accolades– primarily the Liberation of Naboo Medal, Exemplary Service Award, and insignia of the Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lotus.

“Good morning, Masters Jedi. I have come to respond to your summons,” she said firmly.

“Do you know why you have been summoned?” Master Windu asked curiously.

“I could take a guess, Master Jedi,” she said airily. “But I would not want to create misunderstanding, so please, if you would elaborate for me?”

“Carrying a lightsaber is a most unusual thing for a non-Jedi to do,” interjected a curious female voice - Ani couldn’t quite place who it was, but it had been many years, so she may have forgotten. “Very few outside of our Order bother with such a particular type of weapon.”

“There is no law against possession or use of a lightsaber by a private individual, Master Jedi,” she shot back with equal measure. “A peculiar little side-effect of the Ruusan Reformation which allowed for the independence of the Guardians of the Whills and other Force sects across the galaxy. If you have a question for me, esteemed Masters, then I suggest you ask it, otherwise I have many other duties I must attend to as a leader of Her Excellency’s guard.”

“Bear resemblance to a dead padawan, you do,” came Master Yoda’s voice that time. “Rumors, there are, that Anakin Skywalker, you are.”

“That is one of the names by which I have been known, yes,” Ani confirmed, refusing to allow the Jedi to make her wilt. “I am Senior Lieutenant Aniaré Naberrie of the Royal Naboo Lancers, or Lady Anakin Skywalker, Knight of the Lotus Crown. Both names are legally sound and equally correct in the eyes of the Naboo civilian government.”

“The Council is curious as to the explanation of how you survived the bombing on Bothawui,” Mace Windu interjected - Ani could feel the flicker of irritation her favorite master on the council was feeling, though she couldn’t place it if it was aimed at her or at the other Jedi. “They never recovered your body after the fact.”

“I cannot speak to what Master Qui-Gon Jinn’s motivations were that day for attempting to leave the planet prematurely without me present, but I had been engaged in conversation with then-Queen Amidala, catching up on the five years that had passed since we had last spoken,” Ani explained. “Several security guards came in while we were talking and informed me that a ship bearing remarkable similarity to the one which Master Qui-Gon had used to bring us there had been destroyed by a terrorist.”

Ani sighed. “For concern of my safety, I was smuggled off Bothawui by the Naboo,” she continued. “I was subsequently brought to the Royal Palace in Theed. It was during that time that I realized that I had no interest in returning to the Jedi Temple to be given away to another Master who cared more about me as a weapon of war against the Sith than as a person with thoughts and feelings.”

She could feel the indignation swell from the assembled Masters, but Mace Windu cleared his throat, cutting off their swelling fury at her casual dismissal of the Jedi Order.

“Continue, Lieutenant,” he said firmly, his eyes cutting towards the other masters with disapproval.

“I swore the oath and became a Royal Handmaiden,” Ani explained proudly. “I served my sovereign until the day she departed the throne. At that point, I became a student at the University of Theed, graduated with some degrees in history, mechanics and anthropology, and afterwards agreed to serve as Senator Amidala’s personal bodyguard and chief of security upon my graduation.”

“At no point did you consider returning to the Temple?” Mace asked curiously.

“No,” Ani said simply. “The Jedi are in my past, and I have no intentions of returning.”

“We thank you for taking the time to see us today, Lady Skywalker,” Mace said, cutting off any further questioning - she could feel a particular locus of irritation lancing from Master Windu towards the person she assumed to be Master Mundi. “We apologize for taking up your time, but we merely required some answers to questions that have been lingering for several years.”

“It was my pleasure, Master Windu,” Ani said earnestly, bowing to the Haruun Master in respect. “My mother holds you in the highest respect, and the services that the Jedi Order provided to the people of the Naboo when our home was invaded by the Trade Federation have never been forgotten. We are more than glad to call you true partners in peace.”

She stood up straight and gave a bright smile - as good as any princess would. “I bid you a good day, Masters Jedi,” she said genially, giving them another bow before stepping out of the chamber.

“Ma’am, did everything go alright?” the barrister asked as she stepped out - the man looked very nervous to be around so many Jedi; their reputation as guardians of peace and justice were often contrasted by their reputation as dangerous warrior-monks who sometimes caused more problems than they solved.

“I appreciate your assistance,” Ani said gently, giving the barrister a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “But everything went just fine. The Jedi don’t scare me anymore - I am a daughter of Naboo and Tatooine, there is very little that shakes me these days.”

“Well, thank goodness for that,” the barrister said, wiping some sweat from his forehead. “I’d much rather not be around here if I can help it.”

…

“What is Naboo like?”

Ani looked up from the pieces of flimsi dotting her desk - profiles of Senators who have ‘determined hostile interests’ among other groups that may or may not want to make attempts on the life of her mother and employer. Ahsoka was seated in one of the chairs, her back against one armrest, and her legs hanging over the other.

“Hmm?”

“What is Naboo like? I’ve… hardly ever left Coruscant before,” Ahsoka asked quietly, tilting her head back toward the ceiling. “Don’t get me wrong, this place is still home, but sometimes I feel a yearn to roam.”

“Naboo is beautiful,” Ani replied, setting her stylus down. “There’s just about every biome you can think of. Deserts, jungles, forests, swamps, tundra… I spent most of my time in Theed and the outlying areas, but after they let me fly my personal fighter, I got to see quite a few lovely places. My favorites are Theed, the Lake Country, and the Sanhari–that’s the largest desert. Naboo’s deserts work differently than Tatooine’s would due to the hollowed out core of the planet. It actually rains in the desert, which is nothing like Tatooine.”

“It sounds beautiful,” Ahsoka replied earnestly. “It suits you.”

“It suits me?”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka said, a blush darkening across her face. “A beautiful planet… a beautiful girl…”

Ani felt her cheeks warm and a laugh bubbled up from her chest. “Oh, beautiful, huh? Is that how you feel about me?”

“Well,” Ahsoka said. “You’d have to be blind to not realize you’re beautiful, Ani. I mean, c’mon. It’s kind of obvious, isn’t it?”

“What, between being taller and ganglier than any other girl I know?” Ani asked rhetorically. “The fact that I’m always wearing either this uniform or a stained mechanics’ singlet?”

“Your hair is gorgeous,” Ahsoka pointed out. “I’ve always loved the way hair looks. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade my lekku for the world, but still, it’s nice you have those options.”

“I’m worried how it’ll look if the little montrals on my head ever grow in fully,” Ani admitted with an abashed grimace. “How the hell do I style my hair after that?”

“You could always have them braided, or something. Your hair is really curly, it might turn out really nice if you do it that way,” Ahsoka said. “There’s salons you could go to on Coruscant that can give it a shot.”

“I’ll think about it,” Ani replied. “Provided I can even get away from this job for a few minutes at a time - Padme has made way too many enemies for me to feel comfortable doing anything else but unsorting this horrendous security situation. How many fucking factions want her knocked off - it feels like it’s the entire Force-be-damned Senate. Core extremists, Mid-rim traditionalists, militarists, Human supremacists, anti-monarchists…”

She tapped her hand against the flimsi talking about that last group. “The stupid part is that the anti-monarchists are just misinformed. They think there was some kind of quid pro quo going on that gave Padme her seat in the Senate - and that she was named Queen by right of hereditary inheritance. Naboo’s electoral monarchy is literally a more free election than any election the Republic has right now. Human supremacists have a problem with her because she advocates for egalitarianism and equal rights for all citizens, which also irritates the Core faction because she’s been the largest advocate against indentured servitude - or slavery, to put it more succinctly.” Ani said with a sigh. “Right now I’m even composing a hostile intelligence profile on the Jedi, of all things.”

“The Jedi?” Ahsoka asked, bewildered. “Why would you need that?”

“I cannot discount the idea that the Jedi might be involved in some assassination attempt against her, particularly now that I am publicly a member of her entourage. It isn’t very often that Jedi leave the Order, so when they do, the entire Council’s attention is turned on that person, particularly if they start making political waves.”

“Like Count Dooku,” Ahsoka muttered.

“Exactly,” Ani replied. Count Dooku had been a point of contention. Ani had only known him in passing as he had been Qui-Gon’s Master - therefore in her own lineage as a Jedi. He had left the order shortly after Obi-Wan had, and had immediately gone back to his homeworld of Serenno. Since then, he had been a major figure in the sowing of dissent among the Mid-Rim and Expansion Region worlds, advocating for their unilateral secession from the Republic.

The latest step in that front had been the Centares Convention - delegates from several Rim-edge and Outer Rim worlds under the sway of the Count of Serenno had met to discuss the “possibility” of a unilateral declaration of independence from the Galactic Republic. The fact it was being spoken so openly, and all Coruscant did was philander about…

Ani was beginning to feel that war was inevitable - and she wasn’t even sure that the Republic was trying to stop it. She wondered if the clones that Obi-Wan had told her about had something to do with it. It was a rather safe bet that they were, but she wasn’t sure how they pieced together.

“Or like me,” Ani said simply, pushing the thoughts of geopolitics and war aside. “Disappearing from the Jedi Order for so long - and with… what they think I am, or could be… I just can’t discard that they might have ulterior motives in thinking that I have ulterior motives.”

“You’re right,” Ahsoka replied slowly. “I hate to say it - I mean, I should be defending the Jedi, but… for all the things we learn as Initiates and Younglings, there’s almost nothing about the modern Jedi Order that keeps to those old philosophies. We’re almost like a hollowed-out shell of what we used to be.”

Ahsoka’s comm began to chirp impatiently, interrupting her. The young Togruta let out an aggrieved sigh and pulled it from her hip and glanced at it. “Oh, of course he’s calling me now,” she grumbled.

She sat up in the chair, going from just a tired teenager to the very epitome of a prim and proper Jedi Padawan. She knew because she’d had that same look at least once on her own face when dealing with Qui-gon. With another sigh, and a moment of zen that Ani could feel ripple briefly in the force, her friend pressed the button on the comm and a small holographic projection of an older human male appeared. He was balding with a pair of spectacles hanging on his nose.

“Master Talis,” Ahsoka greeted evenly, bowing her head slightly.

“Padawan,” her master replied, his reedy voice impatient. “Where are you? You were not in your quarters like I expected.”

“I am in the Senate District, Master,” Ahsoka replied. “I was in a meeting before-”

“We have a mission that we need to prepare for,” Master Talis said dismissively, cutting Ahsoka off at the pass. “Return to the Temple at once, Padawan.”

“Yes, Master,” she replied dutifully - and her master almost immediately killed the call.

“Your master sounds like a pleasant one,” Ani joked dryly.

“Oh yeah, he’s the best,” Ahsoka said darkly with a growl. “I guess I’ve gotta go, then…”

“Yeah…” Ani trailed off. “Let me at least walk you out, yeah?”

“I’d love that, thank you,” Ahsoka said brightly, gathering herself up in her burgundy robes. She and Ani left her office behind and walked down the corridor of the Naboo Complex, into the elevators and down to the ground floor.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” Ani asked.

“Hopefully not long,” Ahsoka replied with a sigh. “I can only wonder what stupid mission they’re sending Master Talis off on this time - he usually gets the most droll, unimaginative missions possible. I’ll see you when I get back, okay?”

They were standing by the doors of the building and a moment of awkwardness passed between them.

“Stay safe, okay?” Ani asked carefully. “I know you can kick ass and take names like anybody I’ve ever met, but I know how dangerous it is to be a Jedi.”

“Thanks, Ani,” Ahsoka said, before leaning forward and kissing Ani gently on the lips. It felt like a bolt of electricity had passed through her, butterflies in her stomach flapping their wings at gale force. “May the Force be with you.”

She pressed the button to open the door and stepped out, leaving a stupefied Ani behind.

“... and with you, Ahsoka,” she murmured, touching her fingers to her lips.

…

Ben ran his fingers through his beard - every time Ani saw him, he had become increasingly more Mandalorian in his disposition and appearance. His beard was trimmed tightly, his hair cropped in much the same way that his friend (and Ani suspected, possible life partner) Jango’s was. He even wore the carbon fiber fingerless gloves and grieves so common among Mandalorian expatriate groups.

“Well, Ani,” he said slowly. “The Jedi Order doesn’t necessarily approve of emotional attachments in the way you’re thinking. Friendships and kinships are one thing, but romantic entanglements? That being said, they are not rare at all. Did Qui-gon ever tell you about his own youthful indiscretions? Or his master’s? Or mine, for that matter…”

“I’ve heard of them from others, but Qui-gon never told me about those things. He wanted to discourage me from mortal pursuits.”

“Of course he did,” Ben said with a sigh. “I would say that you should allow this to develop naturally. I am far from the best to advise on relationships with women - your mother might be a better person to talk to about that, but from the perspective of the Jedi…”

“Would Ahsoka be thrown out of the Order if she… and I were to see each other?”

“It’s not likely - the Jedi Order never expels its members except for the most egregious offenses. I believe only once was someone expelled from the Order for violating the rules on attachments, and that was only after… rather unspeakable acts took place that left the Council no option but to take action. That being said, she could be disavowed by her master - which would make advancing in the Order close to impossible unless another master or knight took pity on her.”

“That’s dumb,” Ani groused.

“It is unfortunately the way the Jedi Order works, and why I gave up on it - I would have never been more than a Jedi Knight if I had remained - and if I am honest, Ani - neither would you.”

“You think so?” she asked curiously.

“Don’t get me wrong, you would have become a Knight exceptionally fast, but a Mastery? They would have made you do so many things and still would not have given it to you. You’re too emotional, too… full of passions. It’s good that you chose the path you did. I’m proud to call you my student, if you’ll accept that.”

“Of course, Ben,” Ani said earnestly, a smile playing on her lips. “You’re the best teacher I’ve ever had. I actually feel like I could take on a Jedi Knight now.”

“You very well could - most Knights, anyway,” Ben said amusedly. “Speaking of Jedi matters, there was something I wanted you to look into. I found some manuscript written by Revan later in her life - a theoretical doctrine on some Jedi weaknesses. I would like for you to analyze the document and come up with some counter-strategies to them. I know you have a full-time job, protecting your mother from Core interests, but when you have free time. Your thoughts on Jedi dogmata have always been most enlightening.”

“Of course, Ben - no problem,” Ani said with a smile. “I’m not afraid of a little homework. After all, I graduated at the top of my class from UT.”