One Path Chapter 42--Expectations
Title:Expectations
Author: Lionchilde
Summary: He stirred at the touch, and she stilled her hand, not wanting to wake him. His head turned anyway, and she gave a pleasant shiver as he buried his lips in her neck. "Good morning," he whispered.
Rating: PG
Length: Around 2100 words
Category: Fluff/Angst
Pairings/Characters: Obidala
A/N: One Path Chapter 42. Set during an alternate RotS.
Expectations
Padme slept in the warm circle of her husband's arms, her back once again nestled comfortably against his chest. It was a deep and restful slumber, blessedly free of nightmares--one of very few that she could remember having in all the months that he had been on the Outer Rim. She opened her eyes naturally and without effort, blinked in surprise at the sensation of being actually rested. She smiled. His chest still rose and fell in the deep, even rhythm of sleep, and she wondered idly what he might be dreaming about--Varyinko? Tatooine? Her hand drifted down to where his clasped forearms now rested above the swell of her pregnancy. Her palm smoothed gently over the familiar musculature, exploring it slowly and thoroughly, the way that they had touched one another in their first, blissful days of marriage, when every caress was new and full of wonder.
He stirred at the touch, and she stilled her hand, not wanting to wake him. His head turned anyway, and she gave a pleasant shiver as he buried his lips in her neck. "Good morning," he whispered.
"Good morning," she replied happily.
"What's on your agenda for today, Senator Kenobi?" he asked.
"More debate. I think my life has become one endless debate," she remarked.
"I know what you mean," he murmured.
"What about your day?" she wanted to know.
"I need to meet with Republic Intelligence, start coordinating the search for General Grievous. Then I should speak with Yoda again and let him know that I've been instructing Ani," he said.
She nodded. "Do you think he'll like it?"
He didn't answer right away, and she smiled again, well able to picture the thoughtful furrow of his brow. "Ani told him clearly that he didn't want to go to the temple. He'll agree with me that with Qui-Gon already doing…whatever he's doing, the Force itself intends for Ani to be trained. I think he'll want me involved in that training."
"Involved? You're going to be more than just 'involved', aren't you?" she frowned.
"Ani and Qui-Gon have already developed a relationship which seems to be that of Master and Padawan. It's rather unprecedented. At Ani's age, younglings are usually still kept in training groups, as I was. Not to mention the fact that Qui-Gon is--well--dead. I don't fully understand what limits there are on his ability to interact with Ani physically. That means that at least a part of his training will fall to me, but I don't want to interfere with Qui-Gon's instruction or come between them in any way," he explained.
"Maybe the two of you can train him together as equals," Padme suggested.
"Two Masters? Well, that's…"
"Unprecedented?" she laughed.
"That's one word," he chuckled against her skin.
"You are Ani's dad," she pointed out.
"Yes, and Qui-Gon may feel that I'm therefore too close," he said.
"Haven't you always told me that Qui-Gon was like a father to you anyway?" she reminded him.
"The only father I ever knew," he admitted.
"Do you love him less than Ani loves you?" Padme asked.
"Of course not. I mean, I don't think so. I--sometimes I still can't believe that there's this little boy who loves me so much, so simply. Everything with Anakin was always so convoluted and complex," he replied pensively.
"But you don't love him any less," Padme said.
"No. But differently," Obi Wan told her.
"Of course. All relationships are different, you know that. They grow and change over time. Anakin is a grown man now, and he was always very different from Ani," she observed.
"What are you getting at?" he asked.
"Just because little Ani is your son by blood doesn't mean that your relationship with Anakin is any less important to you. Or that Anakin is less important. And I have a feeling that you are just as important to Qui-Gon now as Ani is. He loves you as a son, and yet he was able to teach you what he knew, just as you taught Anakin."
"Where have you learned such wisdom?" he asked, and though his tone was light, she knew that he wasn't entirely teasing.
"I'm a mother," she replied.
"Then perhaps motherhood should be a requirement for appointment to the Jedi Council," he suggested archly.
"That would present a bit of a problem," she giggled.
"Well, I would have said parenthood, but I am a father, and that doesn't seem to have afforded me the same understanding," he said.
"That's because fathers are really just little boys like their sons," she declared.
"You didn't think I was such a little boy when you married me," he pointed out.
"You weren't father when I married you," she explained.
"So…what? A boy is born, grows into a man and marries, and then becoming a father suddenly reverts him into a little boy?" Obi Wan laughed.
"I think that's about right," Padme nodded.
"Well then, how come motherhood doesn't have the same effect on women? Why are you suddenly endowed with great wisdom?" Obi Wan wanted to know.
Padme was silent, pondering the question for a long time. Then she drew a breath and explained, "Because that's how the Force keeps everything in balance. Men become little boys and women become wise enough to run the universe without appearing to."
"Well, now your secret's out," Obi Wan said with a laugh.
"That's all right. You won't tell," Padme decided.
"Oh, I won't?" he challenged.
"Mmm-mmm," she shook her head.
"And why not?" he inquired.
"Because you love me. And nobody would believe you anyway," she said matter-of-factly.
Both exploded with laughter, and were still laughing a few minutes later when their bedroom door chime rang. Obi Wan boosted himself up on his elbow behind her, and Padme made a weak attempt at wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes. She took a deep breath, and he cleared his throat, but neither one had really stopped chuckling as he started to speak.
"Come in, Ani," he called.
The door slid open to reveal their son, still blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair was pointing every which way, and in his left arm, he clutched the dilapidated stuffed insectoid that Anakin had brought him as a baby. His parents took one look at him and collapsed in hysterics again.
"You guys woke me up," he complained.
"Hair…" Padme gasped.
"…sticking up…" finished Obi Wan.
"I'm gonna go make Threepio get me breakfast," decided Ani with a shake of his head.
***
In the great, vaulted halls of the Jedi temple, Anakin Skywalker was awake as well. In fact, he had not slept at all. His mind was awhirl with conflicting loyalties, conflicting desires. Master Windu expected him to spy on Palpatine. No. The Council expected it. His Master expected obedience. It didn't matter to him or any of them that they were talking about treason.
Palpatine's words from the day before still echoed through his mind. The Council keeps pushing for more control. More autonomy. They have lost all respect for the rule of law. They have become more concerned with avoiding the oversight of the Senate than with winning the war.
Anakin had argued, of course. How could he not? Now, though, his words seemed hollow, and they echoed coldly through the corridor like the frustrated beat of his own footfalls, hammering at him. With respect, sir, many on the Council would say the same of you.
He couldn't believe that he had even voiced such a thought to Palpatine. The Chancellor would have had every right to be angry with him, but he hadn't. Palpatine was never angry. He took everything in stride, and he seemed to already know exactly what Anakin meant. Oh, I have no doubt of it. Many of the Jedi on your Council would prefer I was out of office altogether--because they know I'm on to them, now. They're shrouded in secrecy, obsessed with covert action against mysteriously faceless enemies. The mysterious Lord Sidious. The Sith infiltrator in the highest levels of government. Doesn't that sound a little overly familiar to you, Anakin? A little overly convenient? How do you know this Sidious even exists? How do you know he is not a fiction, a fiction created by the Jedi Council, to give them an excuse to harass their political enemies? I have been reading about the history of the Sith for some years now, Anakin. Ever since the Council saw fit to finally reveal to me their... assertion... that these millennium-dead sorcerers had supposedly sprung back to life. Not every tale about them is sequestered in your conveniently secret Temple archives. From what I have read, they were not so different from Jedi; seeking power, to be sure, but so does your Council.
Anakin had insisted that the Jedi were not a political organization. The Chancellor had countered that in a democracy, everyone and everything was political. He hadn't wanted to believe it. Yet he had to admit that Palpatine had been right. The Jedi had their own political agenda, and they wanted to use him as part of it, a pawn in whatever game they were playing.
Be wary of Palpatine. Be careful of your feelings…
He leaned against the wall, scrubbing his face with his hands. Everyone had a political agenda. Even Palpatine. He had to have one, even if everything Anakin had ever seen indicated to him that the man was honorable. The only person Anakin Skywalker knew who didn't have one, whose own strong distaste for political maneuverings made it impossible for him to have one was Obi Wan Kenobi.
How could he trust Obi Wan now either? How could he rely on the man who had not only taken Padme but now intended to let her die? Just let her…! His teeth clamped angrily at the thought, and he dropped his hands, letting them curl tightly into fists.
Anakin. Whatever our differences, you know I am your friend.
Maybe he was, but what kind of friend? Anakin had already seen that he and Obi Wan had widely different views of friendship. Wasn't Padme supposed to have been his closest friend when Obi Wan had watched her fall from the gunship on Geonosis? Hadn't he been willing to leave her there--to let her die? Hadn't Obi Wan lied to him for years about his feelings for Padme? Maybe he'd even spent the last five months lying to him on the Outer Rim. Anakin didn't think that Padme would have hidden a pregnancy from her husband all this time. He had to have known, and yet he had said nothing. Anakin Skywalker did not have secrets from his friends. He did not lie to those he loved, and he would not betray those who trusted him.
Except…
Even as the thought passed through his mind, he knew that it was not true. There was one thing for which he knew without question that he would betray them--all of them--Obi Wan, Windu, even Palpatine. None of them mattered. Their politics, their lies, their duty. None of it mattered.
If this 'Darth Sidious' of yours were to walk through that door right now--and I could somehow stop you from killing him on the spot--do you know what I would do? I would ask him to sit down, and I would ask him if he has any power he could use to end this war!
Palpatine's declaration was a political one. The Chancellor truly had no idea what he was saying. He had never seen the Dark Side. Anakin Skywalker had seen it. He had fought it. For years, he had fought it. He pressed his hands to his face again, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Grief. Betrayal. Failure. Fear. Slowly, painfully, he slid to the floor. She was going to die. She was going to die, and her own husband wouldn't lift a finger to help her!
I won't let you go, Padme, he promised. Iwill find a way to save you. I will!
If Darth Sidious were to walk up to him right now, Anakin knew what he would do. He would demand to know if the Sith Lord possessed any power by which he might save Padme.
And when he had, she would see. She would understand. It had been his love that saved her, not Obi Wan's. Because she had belonged to him from the beginning. She was supposed to be his. He had seen it in his dreams as a boy. It was him she had been meant to marry--his children that she was meant to bear. Ani was meant to be his. They all were. Obi Wan didn't deserve them. He never had. And Anakin wouldn't fail them the way that he had failed his mother.
Author: Lionchilde
Summary: He stirred at the touch, and she stilled her hand, not wanting to wake him. His head turned anyway, and she gave a pleasant shiver as he buried his lips in her neck. "Good morning," he whispered.
Rating: PG
Length: Around 2100 words
Category: Fluff/Angst
Pairings/Characters: Obidala
A/N: One Path Chapter 42. Set during an alternate RotS.
Expectations
Padme slept in the warm circle of her husband's arms, her back once again nestled comfortably against his chest. It was a deep and restful slumber, blessedly free of nightmares--one of very few that she could remember having in all the months that he had been on the Outer Rim. She opened her eyes naturally and without effort, blinked in surprise at the sensation of being actually rested. She smiled. His chest still rose and fell in the deep, even rhythm of sleep, and she wondered idly what he might be dreaming about--Varyinko? Tatooine? Her hand drifted down to where his clasped forearms now rested above the swell of her pregnancy. Her palm smoothed gently over the familiar musculature, exploring it slowly and thoroughly, the way that they had touched one another in their first, blissful days of marriage, when every caress was new and full of wonder.
He stirred at the touch, and she stilled her hand, not wanting to wake him. His head turned anyway, and she gave a pleasant shiver as he buried his lips in her neck. "Good morning," he whispered.
"Good morning," she replied happily.
"What's on your agenda for today, Senator Kenobi?" he asked.
"More debate. I think my life has become one endless debate," she remarked.
"I know what you mean," he murmured.
"What about your day?" she wanted to know.
"I need to meet with Republic Intelligence, start coordinating the search for General Grievous. Then I should speak with Yoda again and let him know that I've been instructing Ani," he said.
She nodded. "Do you think he'll like it?"
He didn't answer right away, and she smiled again, well able to picture the thoughtful furrow of his brow. "Ani told him clearly that he didn't want to go to the temple. He'll agree with me that with Qui-Gon already doing…whatever he's doing, the Force itself intends for Ani to be trained. I think he'll want me involved in that training."
"Involved? You're going to be more than just 'involved', aren't you?" she frowned.
"Ani and Qui-Gon have already developed a relationship which seems to be that of Master and Padawan. It's rather unprecedented. At Ani's age, younglings are usually still kept in training groups, as I was. Not to mention the fact that Qui-Gon is--well--dead. I don't fully understand what limits there are on his ability to interact with Ani physically. That means that at least a part of his training will fall to me, but I don't want to interfere with Qui-Gon's instruction or come between them in any way," he explained.
"Maybe the two of you can train him together as equals," Padme suggested.
"Two Masters? Well, that's…"
"Unprecedented?" she laughed.
"That's one word," he chuckled against her skin.
"You are Ani's dad," she pointed out.
"Yes, and Qui-Gon may feel that I'm therefore too close," he said.
"Haven't you always told me that Qui-Gon was like a father to you anyway?" she reminded him.
"The only father I ever knew," he admitted.
"Do you love him less than Ani loves you?" Padme asked.
"Of course not. I mean, I don't think so. I--sometimes I still can't believe that there's this little boy who loves me so much, so simply. Everything with Anakin was always so convoluted and complex," he replied pensively.
"But you don't love him any less," Padme said.
"No. But differently," Obi Wan told her.
"Of course. All relationships are different, you know that. They grow and change over time. Anakin is a grown man now, and he was always very different from Ani," she observed.
"What are you getting at?" he asked.
"Just because little Ani is your son by blood doesn't mean that your relationship with Anakin is any less important to you. Or that Anakin is less important. And I have a feeling that you are just as important to Qui-Gon now as Ani is. He loves you as a son, and yet he was able to teach you what he knew, just as you taught Anakin."
"Where have you learned such wisdom?" he asked, and though his tone was light, she knew that he wasn't entirely teasing.
"I'm a mother," she replied.
"Then perhaps motherhood should be a requirement for appointment to the Jedi Council," he suggested archly.
"That would present a bit of a problem," she giggled.
"Well, I would have said parenthood, but I am a father, and that doesn't seem to have afforded me the same understanding," he said.
"That's because fathers are really just little boys like their sons," she declared.
"You didn't think I was such a little boy when you married me," he pointed out.
"You weren't father when I married you," she explained.
"So…what? A boy is born, grows into a man and marries, and then becoming a father suddenly reverts him into a little boy?" Obi Wan laughed.
"I think that's about right," Padme nodded.
"Well then, how come motherhood doesn't have the same effect on women? Why are you suddenly endowed with great wisdom?" Obi Wan wanted to know.
Padme was silent, pondering the question for a long time. Then she drew a breath and explained, "Because that's how the Force keeps everything in balance. Men become little boys and women become wise enough to run the universe without appearing to."
"Well, now your secret's out," Obi Wan said with a laugh.
"That's all right. You won't tell," Padme decided.
"Oh, I won't?" he challenged.
"Mmm-mmm," she shook her head.
"And why not?" he inquired.
"Because you love me. And nobody would believe you anyway," she said matter-of-factly.
Both exploded with laughter, and were still laughing a few minutes later when their bedroom door chime rang. Obi Wan boosted himself up on his elbow behind her, and Padme made a weak attempt at wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes. She took a deep breath, and he cleared his throat, but neither one had really stopped chuckling as he started to speak.
"Come in, Ani," he called.
The door slid open to reveal their son, still blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair was pointing every which way, and in his left arm, he clutched the dilapidated stuffed insectoid that Anakin had brought him as a baby. His parents took one look at him and collapsed in hysterics again.
"You guys woke me up," he complained.
"Hair…" Padme gasped.
"…sticking up…" finished Obi Wan.
"I'm gonna go make Threepio get me breakfast," decided Ani with a shake of his head.
***
In the great, vaulted halls of the Jedi temple, Anakin Skywalker was awake as well. In fact, he had not slept at all. His mind was awhirl with conflicting loyalties, conflicting desires. Master Windu expected him to spy on Palpatine. No. The Council expected it. His Master expected obedience. It didn't matter to him or any of them that they were talking about treason.
Palpatine's words from the day before still echoed through his mind. The Council keeps pushing for more control. More autonomy. They have lost all respect for the rule of law. They have become more concerned with avoiding the oversight of the Senate than with winning the war.
Anakin had argued, of course. How could he not? Now, though, his words seemed hollow, and they echoed coldly through the corridor like the frustrated beat of his own footfalls, hammering at him. With respect, sir, many on the Council would say the same of you.
He couldn't believe that he had even voiced such a thought to Palpatine. The Chancellor would have had every right to be angry with him, but he hadn't. Palpatine was never angry. He took everything in stride, and he seemed to already know exactly what Anakin meant. Oh, I have no doubt of it. Many of the Jedi on your Council would prefer I was out of office altogether--because they know I'm on to them, now. They're shrouded in secrecy, obsessed with covert action against mysteriously faceless enemies. The mysterious Lord Sidious. The Sith infiltrator in the highest levels of government. Doesn't that sound a little overly familiar to you, Anakin? A little overly convenient? How do you know this Sidious even exists? How do you know he is not a fiction, a fiction created by the Jedi Council, to give them an excuse to harass their political enemies? I have been reading about the history of the Sith for some years now, Anakin. Ever since the Council saw fit to finally reveal to me their... assertion... that these millennium-dead sorcerers had supposedly sprung back to life. Not every tale about them is sequestered in your conveniently secret Temple archives. From what I have read, they were not so different from Jedi; seeking power, to be sure, but so does your Council.
Anakin had insisted that the Jedi were not a political organization. The Chancellor had countered that in a democracy, everyone and everything was political. He hadn't wanted to believe it. Yet he had to admit that Palpatine had been right. The Jedi had their own political agenda, and they wanted to use him as part of it, a pawn in whatever game they were playing.
Be wary of Palpatine. Be careful of your feelings…
He leaned against the wall, scrubbing his face with his hands. Everyone had a political agenda. Even Palpatine. He had to have one, even if everything Anakin had ever seen indicated to him that the man was honorable. The only person Anakin Skywalker knew who didn't have one, whose own strong distaste for political maneuverings made it impossible for him to have one was Obi Wan Kenobi.
How could he trust Obi Wan now either? How could he rely on the man who had not only taken Padme but now intended to let her die? Just let her…! His teeth clamped angrily at the thought, and he dropped his hands, letting them curl tightly into fists.
Anakin. Whatever our differences, you know I am your friend.
Maybe he was, but what kind of friend? Anakin had already seen that he and Obi Wan had widely different views of friendship. Wasn't Padme supposed to have been his closest friend when Obi Wan had watched her fall from the gunship on Geonosis? Hadn't he been willing to leave her there--to let her die? Hadn't Obi Wan lied to him for years about his feelings for Padme? Maybe he'd even spent the last five months lying to him on the Outer Rim. Anakin didn't think that Padme would have hidden a pregnancy from her husband all this time. He had to have known, and yet he had said nothing. Anakin Skywalker did not have secrets from his friends. He did not lie to those he loved, and he would not betray those who trusted him.
Except…
Even as the thought passed through his mind, he knew that it was not true. There was one thing for which he knew without question that he would betray them--all of them--Obi Wan, Windu, even Palpatine. None of them mattered. Their politics, their lies, their duty. None of it mattered.
If this 'Darth Sidious' of yours were to walk through that door right now--and I could somehow stop you from killing him on the spot--do you know what I would do? I would ask him to sit down, and I would ask him if he has any power he could use to end this war!
Palpatine's declaration was a political one. The Chancellor truly had no idea what he was saying. He had never seen the Dark Side. Anakin Skywalker had seen it. He had fought it. For years, he had fought it. He pressed his hands to his face again, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Grief. Betrayal. Failure. Fear. Slowly, painfully, he slid to the floor. She was going to die. She was going to die, and her own husband wouldn't lift a finger to help her!
I won't let you go, Padme, he promised. Iwill find a way to save you. I will!
If Darth Sidious were to walk up to him right now, Anakin knew what he would do. He would demand to know if the Sith Lord possessed any power by which he might save Padme.
And when he had, she would see. She would understand. It had been his love that saved her, not Obi Wan's. Because she had belonged to him from the beginning. She was supposed to be his. He had seen it in his dreams as a boy. It was him she had been meant to marry--his children that she was meant to bear. Ani was meant to be his. They all were. Obi Wan didn't deserve them. He never had. And Anakin wouldn't fail them the way that he had failed his mother.