One Path Chapter 15--Thoughts and Feelings
Title: Thoughts and Feelings
Author: Lionchilde
Summary: If a Jedi could be said to have a home, this was it--this temple full of its rich heritage that stretched back over a thousand generations. How could he leave it? His place was here--his responsibility was to these people, to Yoda, to Anakin, to a thousand future generations of Jedi Knights.
Rating: PG
Length: Around 2800 words
Category: Angst/Drama
Pairings/Charaters: Obidala
A/N: One Path Chapter 15. Anakin and Padme arrive on Naboo and the investigation continues, set during an alternate AtoC.
Thought and Feelings
Despite her continued anger at the circumstances, there was a relief that came with being home. Her peasant disguise had been discarded, and Anakin, once again attired as a Jedi, escorted her through the grand courtyard of the palace in Theed. The beauty and familiarity of her surroundings lent her a particular sort of peace. She inhaled deeply, glad of the warm sunshine and fresh air, the scent of newly cut grass and the perpetual light perfume of flowers.
"If I grew up here, I don't think I'd ever leave," Anakin remarked enthusiastically.
"I doubt that," Padme laughed.
"No, really," he insisted. "When I started my training, I was very homesick and very lonely. This city and my mom were the only pleasant things I had to think about. The problem was, the more I thought about my mom, the worse I felt. But I would feel better if I thought about the palace--the way it shimmers in the sunlight--the way the air always smells of flowers... "
"...and the soft sound of the distant waterfalls," Padme added without thinking. A half second later, she realized that Anakin had essentially just echoed her own thoughts, and a knot began to form in her stomach. Forcing herself to show no reaction, she continued, "The first time I saw the Capital, I was very young... I'd never seen a waterfall before. I thought they were so beautiful... I never dreamed one day I'd live in the palace."
"Well, tell me, did you dream of power and politics when you were a little girl?" he asked.
"No!" Padme laughed, honestly amused at the notion. "That was the last thing I thought of, but the more history I studied, the more I realized how much good politicians could do. After school, I became a Senatorial advisor with such a passion that, before I knew it, I was elected Queen. For the most part it was because of my conviction that reform was possible. I wasn't the youngest Queen ever elected, but now that I think back on it, I'm not sure I was old enough. I'm not sure I was ready."
"The people you served thought you did a good job. I heard they tried to amend the Constitution so you could stay in office," he told her.
"Popular rule is not democracy, Ani. It gives the people what they want, not what they need," she said firmly, ignoring the attempt at flattery. She smiled indulgently at his naivety, unsure whether it was better or worse than Obi Wan's distrust of politics or politicians. Both were problematic. Anakin might be willing to believe that real change could be effected through political means, but he also seemed likely to make his political choices based on his like or dislike of a candidate rather than on a clear understanding of relevant issues and the consequences of each decision. She knew that Obi Wan trusted her, that he admired her commitment to service and shared it in his own way. Still, it bothered her that he was so leery of the political system upon which the Republic was based. He'd told her on more than one occasion that he felt politicians were more inclined to serve the people who funded their campaigns than the interests of their constituents. That might have been true in some cases but not all, and not nearly so many as he professed to believe. He was a Jedi, bound to serve the Republic. She knew he believed in the principles of democracy and peace upon which the Republic had been founded, just as she did. Yet how could he effectively serve a government in which his own confidence often wavered? All these things passed through her mind in an instant, and she almost bit her lip as she realized that her fingers were reaching for the comlink now hidden in a fold of her gown. She let them brush it briefly, but forced herself to focus on the boy beside her, continuing, "And, truthfully, I was relieved when my two terms were up. So were my parents. They worried about me during the blockade and couldn't wait for it all to be over. Actually, I was hoping to have a family by now. My sisters have the most amazing, wonderful kids…" she heard herself saying and almost froze. Had she hoped that? There had been no one in her life since Ian Lago, and that relationship had ended when she was elected as Queen. Younglings needed a father--she pulled her hand away from the comlink, cutting off the thought and finishing lamely, "So when the Queen asked me to serve as Senator, I couldn't refuse her."
"I agree! I think the Republic needs you. I'm glad you chose to serve. I feel things are going to happen in our generation that will change the galaxy in profound ways, " Anakin remarked.
"I think so too," Padme said with a bit of uneasiness. She had felt that way for a long time, and the growing Separatist movement, coupled with the impending vote on the Military Creation Act did not ease her mind.
***
"Don't think. Feel. Be as one with the Force. Help you, it will," promised Yoda. Obi Wan stood in the entrance to the veranda where the Master was now leading a training exercise with a group of four year olds. He smiled, mouthing the words as the ancient Master spoke them. They were the same words he'd heard more than a quarter century ago, when Yoda had led him in this familiar and oddly comforting ritual. This, he told himself, feeling the first real peace that he had since Padme left, was his family. If a Jedi could be said to have a home, this was it--this temple full of its rich heritage that stretched back over a thousand generations. How could he leave it? His place was here--his responsibility was to these people, to Yoda, to Anakin, to a thousand future generations of Jedi Knights. Obi Wan Kenobi had no doubt of this as Yoda's gaze shifted toward him, seeming silently to confirm his thoughts.
"Younglings, enough!" the great Jedi Master commanded. "A visitor, we have. Welcome him."
Twenty training sabers clicked off, and the younglings came to attention, removing their helmets and tucking them under their left arms.
"Master Obi Wan Kenobi," Yoda said gravely. "Meet the mighty Bear Clan."
"Welcome, Master Obi Wan!" the group chorused.
"I am sorry to disturb you, Master," Obi Wan said, offering a bow.
"What help to you, can I be?" inquired Yoda.
Obi Wan took a moment to consider his words, then explained, "I'm looking for a planet described to me by an old friend. "I trust him and the information he provided, but the system doesn't show up on the archive maps."
"An interesting puzzle," Yoda mused. "Lost a planet, Master Obi-Wan has. How embarrassing... how embarrassing. Liam, the shades. An interesting puzzle. Gather, younglings, around the map reader. Clear your minds and find Obi Wan's wayward planet, we will."
The group moved into a small room adjacent to the veranda, and Obi Wan hung back, waiting by the doorway. Watching the younglings assemble around the reader, he almost chuckled. He could sense both their eagerness to help and the unquestioning, childish belief that they could assist their elders in this task. There was no arrogance in them, no feeling of superiority; it simply did not occur to them that they couldn't find the world he needed.
He moved to place his hologlobe in the reader then stood for a moment, waiting for their initial excitement at the activation to abate. He smiled indulgently as some of them reached up to touch to clusters of stars and planets, then walked into the center of the projection.
"This is where it ought to be," he explained. "Gravity is pulling all the stars in this area inward to this spot. There should be a star here, but there isn't."
"Most interesting. Gravity's silhouette remains, but the star and all its planets have disappeared. How can this be? Now, younglings, in your mind, what is the first thing you see? An answer? A thought? Anyone?" Yoda looked questioningly toward the members of the Bear Clan, seeming to be in total earnest. A hand went up, and Obi Wan hid another smile, waiting to see what lesson that Yoda really had in mind to teach here.
At a nod from the Master, one of the younglings called out, "Because someone erased it from the archive memory."
"That's right! That's what happened! Someone erased it! If the planet blew up, the gravity would go away…" others began to call out in agreement.
Obi-Wan stared, regarding the group in complete shock. Yoda only chuckled.
"Truly wonderful, the mind of a child is." Yoda chuckled. "Uncluttered. The data must have been erased."
He started out of the room, and Obi Wan quickly followed, reaching back to pull the hologlobe into his hand through the Force.
"To the center of the pull of gravity go, and find your planet you will," Yoda advised him.
"But Master Yoda, who could have erased information from the Archives? That's impossible, isn't it?" Obi Wan asked uneasily.
"Dangerous and disturbing this puzzle is," Yoda frowned thoughtfully. "Only a Jedi could have erased those files. But who and why, harder to answer. Meditate on this, I will. May the Force be with you."
Obi Wan bowed in acknowledgement and walked briskly off. He moved through the halls at a steady pace, heading toward the landing platform and his waiting starfighter. As he did, he couldn't shake the nagging uneasiness that had begun to prick at him. Everything about this situation struck him as deeply troublesome. Darkness roiled around everything, and the fact that a Jedi had somehow tampered with records connected to Padme's assailants only increased his alarm. The peace he'd felt a few moments ago dissipated, leaving him once again full of half formed fears and feelings that left him sure of nothing but that he needed to solve this mystery quickly.
***
As they stood waiting outside the throne room, Padme wondered again why she had mentioned something as personal as her family life. Although she always tried to be warm and approachable, she liked to maintain a certain distance from her staff and especially for those responsible for her security. The only exceptions to that rule had ever been her handmaidens--and Obi Wan, but that was…different.
Outside of that very small circle, she scrupulously kept herself "Senator Amidala", extending relationships with anyone who could be construed as involved professionally with the senate only as far as professional concerns and courtesies required. It was true that she had known Anakin for a long time, but her relationship with him had never been that of a peer. She'd come to care for him deeply in the short time that they had known each other on Tatooine, and she had always felt grateful to him for the part he'd played in saving Naboo during the Blockade Crisis. Still, she had only recently started to see him as anything other than the child that she remembered. While she liked the young man he was becoming, he certainly wasn't any sort of confidante. Telling him that her family had been worried about her wasn't too big of a step beyond professional etiquette, but venturing into the area of her own desire for a family denoted a level of intimacy that she knew was inappropriate.
Why had she said that anyway? Why, especially, had she said it to Anakin, knowing that he continued to have a crush on her despite his outward commitment to the Jedi? The last thing she wanted was to lead him on--and honestly, the concept of romantic involvement with a Jedi was troublesome enough in regard to Obi Wan. The relationship could never be made public, never be acknowledged. It would make hypocrites of both of them. There could never be the family life that she had just confided in Anakin that she wanted.
She felt a sudden rush of anger at that thought. There was something intrinsically wrong with the Jedi indictment of marriage. Obi Wan had spent ten years hiding his feelings--worse, trying not to have them--when everything he had ever told her indicated that emotion, not intellect, was the key to a Jedi's connection with the Force. How was he supposed to become "one with the Force" by denying an integral part of his own emotional make-up, divorcing himself from feelings that didn't correspond to some convoluted theological ideal? Every sentient race that Padme had ever encountered had a word for love. Love was part of what it meant to be alive. If the Force was present in all living things, if it in some way was both created and responsible for life, how could a Jedi be one with it, understand its will, if he was not allowed to experience love in what was possibly its purest form--if he was not allowed to participate in the kind of love that created and sustained life? There had to be some other answer.
He had said something once about strong emotions clouding judgment, and even causing a Jedi to fall to the Dark Side, to become like the Sith. A chill passed through her even at the idea, but she stubbornly held her mental ground. Qui-Gon had been a passionate and deeply caring man, and yet his judgment during the Blockade Crisis had turned out to be sound. He had been willing to defy the Jedi Council to train Ani, and he had shown little regard for her authority as queen, but his commitment to the ideals of the Jedi and the Republic had never wavered. Furthermore, Obi Wan had been in love with her even on Tatooine. That love hadn't clouded his judgment or warped him into something evil. Nor had his filial devotion to Qui-Gon, even after watching a Sith strike his Master down. She didn't see how romantic attachment could be any different, in terms of its ability to skew perceptions or cloud judgment than the fierce and enduring bond that existed between Obi Wan and Qui-Gon.
Two years ago, he had rescued her from another Sith on Devaron. He may have been distracted during that battle, but even with her life directly at risk, he had not allowed anger to gain the better of him. Some may not have been able to discern the difference between love and obsession; some may have allowed sentiment to outweigh duty or passion to rule their actions. Obi Wan Kenobi was not one of them. He could be stubborn and thickheaded. His methods with Anakin may not have always been wise, but he lived as he believed. He was slow to anger, keenly aware of the universe in which he lived, always did what he thought was the best interest of their society, and he had never acted with the slightest impropriety toward her in all the years that she had known him.
Even with Anakin, if he made mistakes, they were mistakes motivated by genuine love and concern. He could be stern, but there were times when, at least from his perspective, Anakin's behavior was confounding. Anakin felt he could be closed off and demanding, but he was doing his best to model the Jedi Way, which by nature required both detachment and excellence. Padme knew how deeply he loved Ani, how intensely he felt his Padawan's every success and how often he wished that he could shield the younger Jedi from failure.
He's a wonderful father already, she thought, then let out a little hiss of admonition at herself.
"Something wrong?" Anakin frowned beside her.
"No, not at all," she quickly shook her head.
"You seem a little distracted," he observed.
"No, not at all," she smiled, realizing too late that she had just repeated herself.
He gave her a disbelieving look, to which she returned a raised eyebrow in challenge. He opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again, turning as one of Queen Jamillia's handmaidens approached.
"Welcome home, Senator. Her Highness is waiting for you," the young woman said with a smile.
"Thank you," Padme replied with a touch of relief that she hoped would be taken as simple gladness that the wait was over. With a glance toward Anakin, she gestured him to follow and stepped briskly into the throne room.
Author: Lionchilde
Summary: If a Jedi could be said to have a home, this was it--this temple full of its rich heritage that stretched back over a thousand generations. How could he leave it? His place was here--his responsibility was to these people, to Yoda, to Anakin, to a thousand future generations of Jedi Knights.
Rating: PG
Length: Around 2800 words
Category: Angst/Drama
Pairings/Charaters: Obidala
A/N: One Path Chapter 15. Anakin and Padme arrive on Naboo and the investigation continues, set during an alternate AtoC.
Thought and Feelings
Despite her continued anger at the circumstances, there was a relief that came with being home. Her peasant disguise had been discarded, and Anakin, once again attired as a Jedi, escorted her through the grand courtyard of the palace in Theed. The beauty and familiarity of her surroundings lent her a particular sort of peace. She inhaled deeply, glad of the warm sunshine and fresh air, the scent of newly cut grass and the perpetual light perfume of flowers.
"If I grew up here, I don't think I'd ever leave," Anakin remarked enthusiastically.
"I doubt that," Padme laughed.
"No, really," he insisted. "When I started my training, I was very homesick and very lonely. This city and my mom were the only pleasant things I had to think about. The problem was, the more I thought about my mom, the worse I felt. But I would feel better if I thought about the palace--the way it shimmers in the sunlight--the way the air always smells of flowers... "
"...and the soft sound of the distant waterfalls," Padme added without thinking. A half second later, she realized that Anakin had essentially just echoed her own thoughts, and a knot began to form in her stomach. Forcing herself to show no reaction, she continued, "The first time I saw the Capital, I was very young... I'd never seen a waterfall before. I thought they were so beautiful... I never dreamed one day I'd live in the palace."
"Well, tell me, did you dream of power and politics when you were a little girl?" he asked.
"No!" Padme laughed, honestly amused at the notion. "That was the last thing I thought of, but the more history I studied, the more I realized how much good politicians could do. After school, I became a Senatorial advisor with such a passion that, before I knew it, I was elected Queen. For the most part it was because of my conviction that reform was possible. I wasn't the youngest Queen ever elected, but now that I think back on it, I'm not sure I was old enough. I'm not sure I was ready."
"The people you served thought you did a good job. I heard they tried to amend the Constitution so you could stay in office," he told her.
"Popular rule is not democracy, Ani. It gives the people what they want, not what they need," she said firmly, ignoring the attempt at flattery. She smiled indulgently at his naivety, unsure whether it was better or worse than Obi Wan's distrust of politics or politicians. Both were problematic. Anakin might be willing to believe that real change could be effected through political means, but he also seemed likely to make his political choices based on his like or dislike of a candidate rather than on a clear understanding of relevant issues and the consequences of each decision. She knew that Obi Wan trusted her, that he admired her commitment to service and shared it in his own way. Still, it bothered her that he was so leery of the political system upon which the Republic was based. He'd told her on more than one occasion that he felt politicians were more inclined to serve the people who funded their campaigns than the interests of their constituents. That might have been true in some cases but not all, and not nearly so many as he professed to believe. He was a Jedi, bound to serve the Republic. She knew he believed in the principles of democracy and peace upon which the Republic had been founded, just as she did. Yet how could he effectively serve a government in which his own confidence often wavered? All these things passed through her mind in an instant, and she almost bit her lip as she realized that her fingers were reaching for the comlink now hidden in a fold of her gown. She let them brush it briefly, but forced herself to focus on the boy beside her, continuing, "And, truthfully, I was relieved when my two terms were up. So were my parents. They worried about me during the blockade and couldn't wait for it all to be over. Actually, I was hoping to have a family by now. My sisters have the most amazing, wonderful kids…" she heard herself saying and almost froze. Had she hoped that? There had been no one in her life since Ian Lago, and that relationship had ended when she was elected as Queen. Younglings needed a father--she pulled her hand away from the comlink, cutting off the thought and finishing lamely, "So when the Queen asked me to serve as Senator, I couldn't refuse her."
"I agree! I think the Republic needs you. I'm glad you chose to serve. I feel things are going to happen in our generation that will change the galaxy in profound ways, " Anakin remarked.
"I think so too," Padme said with a bit of uneasiness. She had felt that way for a long time, and the growing Separatist movement, coupled with the impending vote on the Military Creation Act did not ease her mind.
***
"Don't think. Feel. Be as one with the Force. Help you, it will," promised Yoda. Obi Wan stood in the entrance to the veranda where the Master was now leading a training exercise with a group of four year olds. He smiled, mouthing the words as the ancient Master spoke them. They were the same words he'd heard more than a quarter century ago, when Yoda had led him in this familiar and oddly comforting ritual. This, he told himself, feeling the first real peace that he had since Padme left, was his family. If a Jedi could be said to have a home, this was it--this temple full of its rich heritage that stretched back over a thousand generations. How could he leave it? His place was here--his responsibility was to these people, to Yoda, to Anakin, to a thousand future generations of Jedi Knights. Obi Wan Kenobi had no doubt of this as Yoda's gaze shifted toward him, seeming silently to confirm his thoughts.
"Younglings, enough!" the great Jedi Master commanded. "A visitor, we have. Welcome him."
Twenty training sabers clicked off, and the younglings came to attention, removing their helmets and tucking them under their left arms.
"Master Obi Wan Kenobi," Yoda said gravely. "Meet the mighty Bear Clan."
"Welcome, Master Obi Wan!" the group chorused.
"I am sorry to disturb you, Master," Obi Wan said, offering a bow.
"What help to you, can I be?" inquired Yoda.
Obi Wan took a moment to consider his words, then explained, "I'm looking for a planet described to me by an old friend. "I trust him and the information he provided, but the system doesn't show up on the archive maps."
"An interesting puzzle," Yoda mused. "Lost a planet, Master Obi-Wan has. How embarrassing... how embarrassing. Liam, the shades. An interesting puzzle. Gather, younglings, around the map reader. Clear your minds and find Obi Wan's wayward planet, we will."
The group moved into a small room adjacent to the veranda, and Obi Wan hung back, waiting by the doorway. Watching the younglings assemble around the reader, he almost chuckled. He could sense both their eagerness to help and the unquestioning, childish belief that they could assist their elders in this task. There was no arrogance in them, no feeling of superiority; it simply did not occur to them that they couldn't find the world he needed.
He moved to place his hologlobe in the reader then stood for a moment, waiting for their initial excitement at the activation to abate. He smiled indulgently as some of them reached up to touch to clusters of stars and planets, then walked into the center of the projection.
"This is where it ought to be," he explained. "Gravity is pulling all the stars in this area inward to this spot. There should be a star here, but there isn't."
"Most interesting. Gravity's silhouette remains, but the star and all its planets have disappeared. How can this be? Now, younglings, in your mind, what is the first thing you see? An answer? A thought? Anyone?" Yoda looked questioningly toward the members of the Bear Clan, seeming to be in total earnest. A hand went up, and Obi Wan hid another smile, waiting to see what lesson that Yoda really had in mind to teach here.
At a nod from the Master, one of the younglings called out, "Because someone erased it from the archive memory."
"That's right! That's what happened! Someone erased it! If the planet blew up, the gravity would go away…" others began to call out in agreement.
Obi-Wan stared, regarding the group in complete shock. Yoda only chuckled.
"Truly wonderful, the mind of a child is." Yoda chuckled. "Uncluttered. The data must have been erased."
He started out of the room, and Obi Wan quickly followed, reaching back to pull the hologlobe into his hand through the Force.
"To the center of the pull of gravity go, and find your planet you will," Yoda advised him.
"But Master Yoda, who could have erased information from the Archives? That's impossible, isn't it?" Obi Wan asked uneasily.
"Dangerous and disturbing this puzzle is," Yoda frowned thoughtfully. "Only a Jedi could have erased those files. But who and why, harder to answer. Meditate on this, I will. May the Force be with you."
Obi Wan bowed in acknowledgement and walked briskly off. He moved through the halls at a steady pace, heading toward the landing platform and his waiting starfighter. As he did, he couldn't shake the nagging uneasiness that had begun to prick at him. Everything about this situation struck him as deeply troublesome. Darkness roiled around everything, and the fact that a Jedi had somehow tampered with records connected to Padme's assailants only increased his alarm. The peace he'd felt a few moments ago dissipated, leaving him once again full of half formed fears and feelings that left him sure of nothing but that he needed to solve this mystery quickly.
***
As they stood waiting outside the throne room, Padme wondered again why she had mentioned something as personal as her family life. Although she always tried to be warm and approachable, she liked to maintain a certain distance from her staff and especially for those responsible for her security. The only exceptions to that rule had ever been her handmaidens--and Obi Wan, but that was…different.
Outside of that very small circle, she scrupulously kept herself "Senator Amidala", extending relationships with anyone who could be construed as involved professionally with the senate only as far as professional concerns and courtesies required. It was true that she had known Anakin for a long time, but her relationship with him had never been that of a peer. She'd come to care for him deeply in the short time that they had known each other on Tatooine, and she had always felt grateful to him for the part he'd played in saving Naboo during the Blockade Crisis. Still, she had only recently started to see him as anything other than the child that she remembered. While she liked the young man he was becoming, he certainly wasn't any sort of confidante. Telling him that her family had been worried about her wasn't too big of a step beyond professional etiquette, but venturing into the area of her own desire for a family denoted a level of intimacy that she knew was inappropriate.
Why had she said that anyway? Why, especially, had she said it to Anakin, knowing that he continued to have a crush on her despite his outward commitment to the Jedi? The last thing she wanted was to lead him on--and honestly, the concept of romantic involvement with a Jedi was troublesome enough in regard to Obi Wan. The relationship could never be made public, never be acknowledged. It would make hypocrites of both of them. There could never be the family life that she had just confided in Anakin that she wanted.
She felt a sudden rush of anger at that thought. There was something intrinsically wrong with the Jedi indictment of marriage. Obi Wan had spent ten years hiding his feelings--worse, trying not to have them--when everything he had ever told her indicated that emotion, not intellect, was the key to a Jedi's connection with the Force. How was he supposed to become "one with the Force" by denying an integral part of his own emotional make-up, divorcing himself from feelings that didn't correspond to some convoluted theological ideal? Every sentient race that Padme had ever encountered had a word for love. Love was part of what it meant to be alive. If the Force was present in all living things, if it in some way was both created and responsible for life, how could a Jedi be one with it, understand its will, if he was not allowed to experience love in what was possibly its purest form--if he was not allowed to participate in the kind of love that created and sustained life? There had to be some other answer.
He had said something once about strong emotions clouding judgment, and even causing a Jedi to fall to the Dark Side, to become like the Sith. A chill passed through her even at the idea, but she stubbornly held her mental ground. Qui-Gon had been a passionate and deeply caring man, and yet his judgment during the Blockade Crisis had turned out to be sound. He had been willing to defy the Jedi Council to train Ani, and he had shown little regard for her authority as queen, but his commitment to the ideals of the Jedi and the Republic had never wavered. Furthermore, Obi Wan had been in love with her even on Tatooine. That love hadn't clouded his judgment or warped him into something evil. Nor had his filial devotion to Qui-Gon, even after watching a Sith strike his Master down. She didn't see how romantic attachment could be any different, in terms of its ability to skew perceptions or cloud judgment than the fierce and enduring bond that existed between Obi Wan and Qui-Gon.
Two years ago, he had rescued her from another Sith on Devaron. He may have been distracted during that battle, but even with her life directly at risk, he had not allowed anger to gain the better of him. Some may not have been able to discern the difference between love and obsession; some may have allowed sentiment to outweigh duty or passion to rule their actions. Obi Wan Kenobi was not one of them. He could be stubborn and thickheaded. His methods with Anakin may not have always been wise, but he lived as he believed. He was slow to anger, keenly aware of the universe in which he lived, always did what he thought was the best interest of their society, and he had never acted with the slightest impropriety toward her in all the years that she had known him.
Even with Anakin, if he made mistakes, they were mistakes motivated by genuine love and concern. He could be stern, but there were times when, at least from his perspective, Anakin's behavior was confounding. Anakin felt he could be closed off and demanding, but he was doing his best to model the Jedi Way, which by nature required both detachment and excellence. Padme knew how deeply he loved Ani, how intensely he felt his Padawan's every success and how often he wished that he could shield the younger Jedi from failure.
He's a wonderful father already, she thought, then let out a little hiss of admonition at herself.
"Something wrong?" Anakin frowned beside her.
"No, not at all," she quickly shook her head.
"You seem a little distracted," he observed.
"No, not at all," she smiled, realizing too late that she had just repeated herself.
He gave her a disbelieving look, to which she returned a raised eyebrow in challenge. He opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again, turning as one of Queen Jamillia's handmaidens approached.
"Welcome home, Senator. Her Highness is waiting for you," the young woman said with a smile.
"Thank you," Padme replied with a touch of relief that she hoped would be taken as simple gladness that the wait was over. With a glance toward Anakin, she gestured him to follow and stepped briskly into the throne room.