One Path Chapter 13--Taking Leave
Title: Taking Leave
Author: Lionchilde
Summary: Remember Tatooine.
Rating: PG violence.
Length: Around 2000 words
Category: Angst/Drama/Romance
Pairings/Charaters: Obidala
A/N: One Path Chapter 13. Before Padme and Anakin leave for Naboo, set during an alternate AtoC.
Taking Leave
Even as she and Dorme rushed about the room gathering clothing and other belongings, Padme was inwardly seething. She worked briskly and thoroughly, attacking the luggage as she would have liked to attack Chancellor Palpatine--and yes, even the Jedi Council. In fact, if Obi Wan had been there, she would have made sure he knew in no uncertain terms exactly how she felt about his Order at the moment. Of course, if she had, he would have stood there impassively, listening to her with the same annoyingly attentive expression he always used when she was angry--under which she could still always see the amused grin he was hiding. Then he would crack a joke the way he had on Tatooine, and she would huff in outrage that he was making light of a serious situation. Then he would say with all the aplomb he could muster that he wouldn't dare make light of the senator's displeasure and she would be left fighting to stay angry.
Except he wasn't here, she reminded her self sharply as she slammed the cover a suitcase down and straightened, placing a hand to the small of her back. He was off investigating while she was stuck sneaking back to Naboo with Ani as her protection. The ludicrousness of that situation struck her as she stepped toward Jar Jar, still ignoring the Padawan as he stood waiting by the door.
"I'm taking an extended leave of absence. It will be your responsibility to take my place in the Senate. Representative Binks, I know I can count on you," she intoned, hoping the formality of her speech would impress upon the Gungan how serious the situation was.
"Mesa honored..." Jar Jar began to stand at attention, but with his head and ears flopping around, he looked entirely ridiculous.
"What?" Padme cut him off sternly.
"Mesa honored to be taken on dissa heavy burden. Mesa accept this with muy... muy humility andda--" Jar Jar told her pompously.
"Jar Jar, I don't wish to hold you up," Padme interrupted impatiently. "I'm sure you have a great deal to do."
"Of course, m'lady," the Gungan bowed, then hurried out of the room, remarking to Anakin as he went, "Shesa in a muy bad mood."
Padme leveled a firey look at the Padawan, letting him know that she would brook no joking from him, and announced, "I do not like this idea of hiding!"
"Don't worry. Now that the Council has ordered an investigation, it won't take Master ObiWan long to find out who hired that bounty hunter. We should have done that from the beginning. It is better to take the offensive against such a threat, to find out the source rather than try to react to the situation," he rambled.
"And while your Master investigates, I have to hide away," she complained, in no mood now for a pretense of worldliness from a boy whose tears she'd dried because he was cold on the flight from Tatooine to Coruscant.
"That would be most prudent, yes," he said in a transparent attempt at his Master's impassivity.
"I haven't worked for a year to defeat the Military Creation Act not to be here when its fate is decided!" Padme declared with a frustrated sigh.
"Sometimes we have to let go of our pride and do what is requested of us," he said mildly.
"Pride?" Padme cried incredulously. She considered for one moment reminding him of his own pride the night before--or any of a plethora of other occasions that Obi Wan had shared with her in their correspondence over the years. She resisted the urge, though, knowing that it would embarrass him, and though she was angry, she knew that Anakin did not deserve that. Still, his rather obvious hypocrisy warranted some response, so she said with a clear tone of authority, "Ani, you're young, and you don't have a very firm grip on politics. I suggest you reserve your opinions for some other time."
"Sorry, m'lady, I was only trying to--"
"Ani! No!" she exclaimed.
"Please don't call me that," he said with sudden sincerity.
She stopped short. "What?"
"Ani. Please don't call me 'Ani,' " he pleaded.
"I've always called you that. It is your name, isn't it?" she asked, beginning to feel some of her anger dissipate.
"My name is Anakin," he said firmly. "When you say Ani, it's like I'm still a little boy. And I'm not."
Padme grew still, then slowly let her eyes move over the boy's lean form. Abruptly it struck her that he was now older than she had been while she was the reigning monarch of her homeworld. He might still always be little Ani in her heart, but she had to admit that he was of an age that denoted at least the respect due a burgeoning adult. He lacked the maturity that she had possessed as Queen of Naboo and was still very obviously infatuated, but she had to ask herself how she would have felt if a member of the Senate had addressed her with a childish diminutive.
"I'm sorry, Anakin. It's impossible to deny you've... that you've grown up," she finished, still finding it an odd thing to say.
"Master Obi Wan manages not to see it. He criticizes my every move, as if I was still a child. He didn't listen to me when I insisted that we go in search of the source of the assassination," he complained.
"Mentors have a way of seeing more of our faults than we would like," Padme said carefully. She agreed that there were times Obi Wan was too hard on Anakin, but she also understood the Master's reasons. "It's the only way we grow."
"Don't get me wrong," he said quickly, realizing that he was addressing a close friend of his Master. "Obi Wan is a great mentor, as wise as Master Yoda and as powerful as Master Windu. I am truly thankful to be his learner. Only…only, although I'm a Padawan learner, in some ways--in a lot of ways--I'm ahead of him. I'm ready for the trials. I know I am! He knows it, too. He feels I'm too unpredictable--other Jedi my age have gone through the trials and made it. I know I started my training late, but he won't let me move on."
"That must be frustrating," said Padme. She kept her tone full of sympathy the way only a diplomat could, but she had the distinct impression of a chafing son complaining about his father to a favorite aunt, much the way the father had often voiced his view of the situation to her.
"It's worse!" Anakin exclaimed. "He's overly critical! He never listens! He just doesn't understand! It's not fair!"
Padme couldn't stifle a laugh. Obi Wan may have been overly critical, but she knew well which of the pair "never listened"--and the last complaint was simply too much. "I'm sorry. You sounded exactly like that little boy I once knew, when he didn't get his way," she told him, trying and failing to keep from giggling.
"I'm not whining! I'm not," he insisted, and Dorme began to laugh as well.
"I didn't say it to hurt you," Padme promised, immediately contrite.
"I know," he said as he drew a deep breath and released it again.
She smiled, crossing the distance between them to lay a hand on his cheek. As she looked into his eyes, though, she had to fight the urge to take a step back. Simmering below the hopeful kindness of the boy she knew was the same intensity she had seen in her dream. Quickly bringing her skills as a diplomat to bear, she infused a lightheartedness into her tone that she didn't feel, hoping to make her point in a way that wouldn't hurt him more than she inadvertently had.
"Anakin. Don't try to grow up too fast," she urged.
"I am grown up. You said it yourself," he reminded her, his gaze moving even deeper, the words clearly laced with innuendo.
Don't worry, Padme. I am the Chosen One.
"Please don't look at me like that," she turned away, trying to erase the image of the mechanical hand as it brushed her cheek, trying not to feel again the cool metal touch.
"Why not?" he asked, still pushing.
"Because I can see what you're thinking," she told him flatly.
Anakin attempted a casual laugh. "Oh, so you have Jedi powers, too?"
"It makes me uncomfortable," she said firmly, noting the look of concern that Dorme shot her.
"Sorry, m'lady," he apologized, but even as he retreated into the veneer of professional civility, she could feel the unwelcome tension in the air between them.
***
Arrangements were finalized that afternoon. Disguised as peasants, Anakin and Padme would catch an outbound freighter to Naboo. Obi Wan, Typho, and Dorme would accompany them on the transport to the freight docks, keeping a discreet distance aboard. He knew that he would see her as she exited the shuttle, but Obi Wan wanted a moment alone with her.
"Take the turbolift down with Captain Typho and Dorme," he instructed Anakin. "We'll catch up outside."
The Padawan regarded him with surprise, raising his eyebrows questioningly. The Master could feel a spike of jealousy from him and his expression darkened with concern. Something had occurred between the two of them before he arrived; he could feel the residual discomfort from both Padme and Dorme, but neither woman had volunteered anything, and he had decided not to push. Padme was clearly still upset about being forced back to Naboo this close to the impending vote, and he thought that they had most likely clashed over that.
"Yes, Master," Anakin bowed stiffly.
He waited until the others had gone and the door was closed behind them, then offered a smile. "So?" he asked.
"So…what?" she frowned.
"Aren't you going to let me have it?" he prompted.
"No," she smiled.
"You're not?" now his eyebrows rose.
"Well, do you want me to?" she tilted her head.
"Not really, but it did seem rather unavoidable," he told her.
"Well, it seems I have a lot to learn about the Jedi," she teased. "I didn't know they were masochists."
"I'm a special case," he retorted.
"Well, fortunately for you, I've already let Anakin have it," she laughed.
"Oh. Well, lucky me. You didn't hurt him did you?" Obi Wan asked.
"I thought you'd trained him well enough not to get hurt by a politician," remarked Padme.
"I think you're a special case too," Obi Wan replied.
The comment was innocent, but her cheeks reddened, and her smile became suddenly shy. She glanced away, murmuring, "Thank you."
He cleared his throat, glad his beard could hide his own embarrassment, and shifted the subject. "Padme, I do understand how important this vote is. You should be here. I'll do everything I can to conduct the investigation quickly and see you back in time."
"I know you will, Obi Wan," she smiled again. Then she let out a sigh and reached for the suitcase that Anakin had left. "I guess we should go."
He nodded, then started to reach into his belt. "I have something--" he started to say as the hastily stuffed bag in her hand sprang open, spilling its contents onto the floor.
With a small noise of disgust, Padme knelt and began to throw her clothes and a collection of datapads back inside. Obi Wan swiftly moved to help her, then froze as her fingers accidentally brushed the back of his hand. She looked up, startled, and both swallowed hard as their gazes locked.
"I have something for you," he forced out.
Her face flushed again. "You--you do?"
Drawing a shaky breath, Obi Wan nodded. He glanced away briefly and pulled his comlink from his belt. Tears sparkled in her eyes as he pressed it into her palm, but he resisted the urge to raise his free hand to her cheek, focusing his attention instead on folding her fingers around it.
"Thank you," she said quietly, covering his hand with hers before he could draw away again.
"Remember Tatooine," he smiled.
Author: Lionchilde
Summary: Remember Tatooine.
Rating: PG violence.
Length: Around 2000 words
Category: Angst/Drama/Romance
Pairings/Charaters: Obidala
A/N: One Path Chapter 13. Before Padme and Anakin leave for Naboo, set during an alternate AtoC.
Taking Leave
Even as she and Dorme rushed about the room gathering clothing and other belongings, Padme was inwardly seething. She worked briskly and thoroughly, attacking the luggage as she would have liked to attack Chancellor Palpatine--and yes, even the Jedi Council. In fact, if Obi Wan had been there, she would have made sure he knew in no uncertain terms exactly how she felt about his Order at the moment. Of course, if she had, he would have stood there impassively, listening to her with the same annoyingly attentive expression he always used when she was angry--under which she could still always see the amused grin he was hiding. Then he would crack a joke the way he had on Tatooine, and she would huff in outrage that he was making light of a serious situation. Then he would say with all the aplomb he could muster that he wouldn't dare make light of the senator's displeasure and she would be left fighting to stay angry.
Except he wasn't here, she reminded her self sharply as she slammed the cover a suitcase down and straightened, placing a hand to the small of her back. He was off investigating while she was stuck sneaking back to Naboo with Ani as her protection. The ludicrousness of that situation struck her as she stepped toward Jar Jar, still ignoring the Padawan as he stood waiting by the door.
"I'm taking an extended leave of absence. It will be your responsibility to take my place in the Senate. Representative Binks, I know I can count on you," she intoned, hoping the formality of her speech would impress upon the Gungan how serious the situation was.
"Mesa honored..." Jar Jar began to stand at attention, but with his head and ears flopping around, he looked entirely ridiculous.
"What?" Padme cut him off sternly.
"Mesa honored to be taken on dissa heavy burden. Mesa accept this with muy... muy humility andda--" Jar Jar told her pompously.
"Jar Jar, I don't wish to hold you up," Padme interrupted impatiently. "I'm sure you have a great deal to do."
"Of course, m'lady," the Gungan bowed, then hurried out of the room, remarking to Anakin as he went, "Shesa in a muy bad mood."
Padme leveled a firey look at the Padawan, letting him know that she would brook no joking from him, and announced, "I do not like this idea of hiding!"
"Don't worry. Now that the Council has ordered an investigation, it won't take Master ObiWan long to find out who hired that bounty hunter. We should have done that from the beginning. It is better to take the offensive against such a threat, to find out the source rather than try to react to the situation," he rambled.
"And while your Master investigates, I have to hide away," she complained, in no mood now for a pretense of worldliness from a boy whose tears she'd dried because he was cold on the flight from Tatooine to Coruscant.
"That would be most prudent, yes," he said in a transparent attempt at his Master's impassivity.
"I haven't worked for a year to defeat the Military Creation Act not to be here when its fate is decided!" Padme declared with a frustrated sigh.
"Sometimes we have to let go of our pride and do what is requested of us," he said mildly.
"Pride?" Padme cried incredulously. She considered for one moment reminding him of his own pride the night before--or any of a plethora of other occasions that Obi Wan had shared with her in their correspondence over the years. She resisted the urge, though, knowing that it would embarrass him, and though she was angry, she knew that Anakin did not deserve that. Still, his rather obvious hypocrisy warranted some response, so she said with a clear tone of authority, "Ani, you're young, and you don't have a very firm grip on politics. I suggest you reserve your opinions for some other time."
"Sorry, m'lady, I was only trying to--"
"Ani! No!" she exclaimed.
"Please don't call me that," he said with sudden sincerity.
She stopped short. "What?"
"Ani. Please don't call me 'Ani,' " he pleaded.
"I've always called you that. It is your name, isn't it?" she asked, beginning to feel some of her anger dissipate.
"My name is Anakin," he said firmly. "When you say Ani, it's like I'm still a little boy. And I'm not."
Padme grew still, then slowly let her eyes move over the boy's lean form. Abruptly it struck her that he was now older than she had been while she was the reigning monarch of her homeworld. He might still always be little Ani in her heart, but she had to admit that he was of an age that denoted at least the respect due a burgeoning adult. He lacked the maturity that she had possessed as Queen of Naboo and was still very obviously infatuated, but she had to ask herself how she would have felt if a member of the Senate had addressed her with a childish diminutive.
"I'm sorry, Anakin. It's impossible to deny you've... that you've grown up," she finished, still finding it an odd thing to say.
"Master Obi Wan manages not to see it. He criticizes my every move, as if I was still a child. He didn't listen to me when I insisted that we go in search of the source of the assassination," he complained.
"Mentors have a way of seeing more of our faults than we would like," Padme said carefully. She agreed that there were times Obi Wan was too hard on Anakin, but she also understood the Master's reasons. "It's the only way we grow."
"Don't get me wrong," he said quickly, realizing that he was addressing a close friend of his Master. "Obi Wan is a great mentor, as wise as Master Yoda and as powerful as Master Windu. I am truly thankful to be his learner. Only…only, although I'm a Padawan learner, in some ways--in a lot of ways--I'm ahead of him. I'm ready for the trials. I know I am! He knows it, too. He feels I'm too unpredictable--other Jedi my age have gone through the trials and made it. I know I started my training late, but he won't let me move on."
"That must be frustrating," said Padme. She kept her tone full of sympathy the way only a diplomat could, but she had the distinct impression of a chafing son complaining about his father to a favorite aunt, much the way the father had often voiced his view of the situation to her.
"It's worse!" Anakin exclaimed. "He's overly critical! He never listens! He just doesn't understand! It's not fair!"
Padme couldn't stifle a laugh. Obi Wan may have been overly critical, but she knew well which of the pair "never listened"--and the last complaint was simply too much. "I'm sorry. You sounded exactly like that little boy I once knew, when he didn't get his way," she told him, trying and failing to keep from giggling.
"I'm not whining! I'm not," he insisted, and Dorme began to laugh as well.
"I didn't say it to hurt you," Padme promised, immediately contrite.
"I know," he said as he drew a deep breath and released it again.
She smiled, crossing the distance between them to lay a hand on his cheek. As she looked into his eyes, though, she had to fight the urge to take a step back. Simmering below the hopeful kindness of the boy she knew was the same intensity she had seen in her dream. Quickly bringing her skills as a diplomat to bear, she infused a lightheartedness into her tone that she didn't feel, hoping to make her point in a way that wouldn't hurt him more than she inadvertently had.
"Anakin. Don't try to grow up too fast," she urged.
"I am grown up. You said it yourself," he reminded her, his gaze moving even deeper, the words clearly laced with innuendo.
Don't worry, Padme. I am the Chosen One.
"Please don't look at me like that," she turned away, trying to erase the image of the mechanical hand as it brushed her cheek, trying not to feel again the cool metal touch.
"Why not?" he asked, still pushing.
"Because I can see what you're thinking," she told him flatly.
Anakin attempted a casual laugh. "Oh, so you have Jedi powers, too?"
"It makes me uncomfortable," she said firmly, noting the look of concern that Dorme shot her.
"Sorry, m'lady," he apologized, but even as he retreated into the veneer of professional civility, she could feel the unwelcome tension in the air between them.
***
Arrangements were finalized that afternoon. Disguised as peasants, Anakin and Padme would catch an outbound freighter to Naboo. Obi Wan, Typho, and Dorme would accompany them on the transport to the freight docks, keeping a discreet distance aboard. He knew that he would see her as she exited the shuttle, but Obi Wan wanted a moment alone with her.
"Take the turbolift down with Captain Typho and Dorme," he instructed Anakin. "We'll catch up outside."
The Padawan regarded him with surprise, raising his eyebrows questioningly. The Master could feel a spike of jealousy from him and his expression darkened with concern. Something had occurred between the two of them before he arrived; he could feel the residual discomfort from both Padme and Dorme, but neither woman had volunteered anything, and he had decided not to push. Padme was clearly still upset about being forced back to Naboo this close to the impending vote, and he thought that they had most likely clashed over that.
"Yes, Master," Anakin bowed stiffly.
He waited until the others had gone and the door was closed behind them, then offered a smile. "So?" he asked.
"So…what?" she frowned.
"Aren't you going to let me have it?" he prompted.
"No," she smiled.
"You're not?" now his eyebrows rose.
"Well, do you want me to?" she tilted her head.
"Not really, but it did seem rather unavoidable," he told her.
"Well, it seems I have a lot to learn about the Jedi," she teased. "I didn't know they were masochists."
"I'm a special case," he retorted.
"Well, fortunately for you, I've already let Anakin have it," she laughed.
"Oh. Well, lucky me. You didn't hurt him did you?" Obi Wan asked.
"I thought you'd trained him well enough not to get hurt by a politician," remarked Padme.
"I think you're a special case too," Obi Wan replied.
The comment was innocent, but her cheeks reddened, and her smile became suddenly shy. She glanced away, murmuring, "Thank you."
He cleared his throat, glad his beard could hide his own embarrassment, and shifted the subject. "Padme, I do understand how important this vote is. You should be here. I'll do everything I can to conduct the investigation quickly and see you back in time."
"I know you will, Obi Wan," she smiled again. Then she let out a sigh and reached for the suitcase that Anakin had left. "I guess we should go."
He nodded, then started to reach into his belt. "I have something--" he started to say as the hastily stuffed bag in her hand sprang open, spilling its contents onto the floor.
With a small noise of disgust, Padme knelt and began to throw her clothes and a collection of datapads back inside. Obi Wan swiftly moved to help her, then froze as her fingers accidentally brushed the back of his hand. She looked up, startled, and both swallowed hard as their gazes locked.
"I have something for you," he forced out.
Her face flushed again. "You--you do?"
Drawing a shaky breath, Obi Wan nodded. He glanced away briefly and pulled his comlink from his belt. Tears sparkled in her eyes as he pressed it into her palm, but he resisted the urge to raise his free hand to her cheek, focusing his attention instead on folding her fingers around it.
"Thank you," she said quietly, covering his hand with hers before he could draw away again.
"Remember Tatooine," he smiled.