Mace paused for a moment in front of the door, gathering his thoughts and centering himself in the Force. He knocked on the thick wood and waited. No answer. He reached out with the Force to check whether the person he was searching for was even present.
Yes, apparently. “May I come in?” he asked.
“Sure,” the hesitant reply came.
Mace opened the double doors and shut them softly behind himself. The room the Nabooans had borrowed was spacious and well-lit, with the soft gold of coming dusk bathing the pale walls and low furniture. In the center, lost, stood the small form of Anakin Skywalker.
“Hello, Anakin,” Mace asked. “How are you holding up?”
“I'm doing well, sir,” Anakin said.
The boy was, despite his claims, terrified. Mace knelt next to him, taking care to have his head lower than Anakin's. “Blowing up the droid control ship without even intending to leave the planet must've been quite the adventure.”
Anakin fidgeted, obviously discomfited. “I'm glad I could help,” he declared, then sat down so his head was lower than Mace's. Interesting – and a confirmation of what the Queen had said.
“The people of Naboo are grateful for your assistance – as are we,” Mace said. “Queen Amidala said you were instrumental in getting their ship off Tatooine as well.”
“It wasn't much,” Anakin said, but in the Force he lit up with a desperate need. “Their hyperdrive needed some components Watto had, but they didn't have any wupiupi, only Republic credits, so I entered the Boonta Eve podrace and Mister Jinn bet on me against Watto and then, when I won, they got the hyperdrive fixed. I'm the only human ever to win the Boonta Eve,” he proudly declared.
“I see. Would you have entered the Boonta Eve had Qui-Gon not needed the credits?”
Anakin shifted in place. “Mom says the galaxy would be a better place if we all helped each other,” he said.
“She sounds like a wise woman.”
“Yeah.” Anakin swallowed. His mouth twisted and his unease leaked off him into the Force. “Will you send me back to Tatooine?” One didn't need the Force to know how much he'd hate it.
“Don't you want to go back to your mother?” Mace gently asked. The Queen had said they'd been slaves, but she was a child from Naboo. Mace wanted to know the truth – and it would make a good lesson for Anakin.
The conflict was immediately obvious on the boy's face. He missed his mother immensely, but wanted no part with her current home.
“Why not?” Mace prompted. He did his best to radiate kindness in the Force to make this as easy as possible for Anakin.
“The chip's still in. Watto'll just turn it on again.”
“A slave chip?”
“I'm a person and my name is Anakin!” Anakin snapped, then cringed back at his own temper.
“You've always been a person,” Mace explained. “I merely wish to know what sort of device has been placed in you to deny you the rights personhood should have afforded you.”
Anakin looked at him speculatively. Mace projected kindness and concern.
“It's a slave chip, with an explosive and a tracker,” Anakin eventually said. “I guess it's turned off, since it would've blown up when I left Tatooine otherwise.”
Mace pulled out his datapad and made a note. “Let's get it out, then. I'm not sure if they have the equipment here on Naboo, but the Halls of Healing at the Temple definitely do.”
Anakin immediately lit up with both an all-consuming hope and a bone-deep doubt. “Really?”
“Of course,” Mace said. He placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder. “We're not sending you back to slavery, Anakin.”
“Will you free mom, too?”
Mace paused. “Qui-Gon didn't free her?”
Anakin shook his head.
Mace pinched the bridge of his nose. “That... Well. Yes, we'll free her.” Under Republic law, this made Qui-Gon guilty of child trafficking and any acceptance of Anakin into the Jedi Order would've been rendered invalid, as it had been tacked onto an offer of freedom instead of been presented on its own and thus would've counted as coercive.
He sighed and turned to his datapad. Freeing a slave was a good test for a shadow initiate; he supposed he might as well see if anyone planning to specialize in Hutt Space operations was in need of one.
Padawan Alik Oszam was, apparently. Mace opened up the mission order field and started typing. “What is your mother's name? Does she have any identifying details?”
“Her name is Shmi Skywalker, she's forty, she's a human with dark hair and pale skin,” Anakin confidently started, then swapped to describing the Toydarian junk dealer who owned her and the directions to his shop. Mace sent all of this to Padawan Oszam's master, in case she wished to test her padawan's tracking skills in addition to her slave-freeing skills.
“Watto will be really upset about losing me, so he'll try to push up the price, but I'm sure you can haggle it down,” Anakin explained. “He's in debt and I think he owes the Hutts. He'll be desperate for some cash.”
Did he- But of course. Qui-Gon seemed to have bought him, and the child was nine. “We Jedi find that freedom is best stolen. Watto will have to deal with his debts with your mother far from the splash zone.”
Anakin's eyes bugged out of his head. “Stolen? Wizard,” he breathed.
Mace smiled. “Indeed. Now, why don't we practice giving mission reports. Could you tell me everything that happened on Tatooine?”
“So I'm going to be a Jedi?”
“If your mother agrees and you still wish to become one.”
“Of course I want to be a Jedi; I want to help people!” Anakin said. “And mom said I could become one already. You don't need to ask her again.”
“I'm afraid we do,” Mace said. “You see, before, the both of you were slaves, and the offer to free you could've felt conditional of the offer to take you into the Jedi Order. What if she'd rather the both of you live together as freepeople?”
Anakin frowned. “But Mister Jinn said I could become a Jedi before he freed me.”
“All the more reason to ask your mother, then.” And curse Qui-Gon Jinn for being an idiot who cared not for the rules when they were there for a reason.
“I guess. But I really want to be a Jedi!”
“You'll have to practice your skills of persuasion on her, then,” Mace said. “Now, could you tell me what happened on Tatooine?”
“I was in Watto's shop when Mister Jinn, Padmé, and Jar-Jar came in,” Anakin began, then described the issue with the hyperdrive remarkably cogently for a nine-year-old and described how he and his mother had fed the Republic contingent and ensured they got offworld at considerable risk to themselves. The description of the lightsaber battle with the dark warrior who'd eventually vanquished Jinn was brief and undetailed, but then again, the child didn't have the experience or the vocabulary to describe it.
Finally, Anakin wrapped it up. “Thank you for your report,” Mace said. “We didn't know you'd been a slave or that you'd helped get the parts for the hyperdrive.”
“Is that why you changed your mind about letting me be a Jedi?”
Not only was the child kind, he was insightful, too. “A Jedi's work is dangerous, and they're often placed in terrifying situations. To feel fear is natural, but a Jedi must not be ruled by it,” Mace began. “Competing in a podrace must be scary, is it not?”
“I wasn't afraid.”
“Fear – like all emotions – is a natural response. What matters is not that you were afraid, but that you could put aside your fear and compete in the podrace, because that was necessary for the mission.”
Anakin smiled at the praise. “It was a bit scary,” he admitted, “but I really wanted to help Padmé and Jar-Jar and Mister Jinn.”
Mace nodded gravely. “And you did. Not because you were unafraid, but because you could do what was necessary despite your fear.” He waited for Anakin to nod before continuing, “This is the basis of Jedi thought. We may have emotions, but they cannot dictate our actions.”
“Then why did you reject me the first time?”
“Because to rise above our emotions, we must first admit we have them,” Mace explained. “And when we saw a terrified little boy who missed his mother and wouldn't even admit he was afraid-”
“But that's-”
Mace raised a hand. Anakin immediately shut up. Under the circumstances, the instant obedience might be convenient, but Mace decided he didn't like it. “We are now aware of the reason for your – guardedness, let's say – but all we had to go on was that you were highly Force sensitive and Qui-Gon had met you on Tatooine. We thought you would be happier back with your mother.”
Anakin frowned, forehead furrowing deeply. It looked endearing on his young face. “Oh,” he eventually said, with some measure of understanding passing through him. “You didn't know enough, so you made the wrong call.”
“Indeed. We are all fallible, Anakin, even the Jedi, even the Jedi Council.” Even Master Yoda, he'd have added for a crèche youngling, but Anakin wasn't from the crèche.
And that would present a problem, should his mother agree to hand him over. “One thing to consider before speaking to your mother, Anakin, is that your knowledge base is completely different to that of the children raised at the Temple,” Mace said. “You know a great deal about mechanics and piloting, but I don't know how many trade languages you speak, and Temple younglings your age will have spent half a decade in classes to teach them-”
“I get to go to school?!” Anakin exclaimed, hopping to his feet in his excitement.
Oh Force. Here was a little slave child, whose entire existence had been about providing his owner with an immediate profit, rather than investing in his future for his own sake. “Anakin,” Mace said, placing both hands onto Anakin's shoulders, “I promise you. No matter what, you will get to go to school.”
“Wizard,” Anakin breathed. He launched himself at Mace and wrapped himself around him like a particularly sticky Kowakian monkey lizard. “Thank you so much, Mister Windu!”
“It's what you deserve.” Given the sheer joy being projected into the Force, Mace decided to risk wrapping his arms around Anakin. The child approved.
The doors whooshed open. “I see you're enjoying the conversation,” Depa Billaba said. “Master Yoda is about to speak to Knight Kenobi about his request and would like to hear a status update.”
“As young Skywalker's mother is still in slavery, Obi-Wan's question is moot.”
Depa blinked. “I see.” She folded her hands in the sleeves of her robes. “I shall relay this to Master Yoda. Will you come speak to the rest of the Council about the reconstruction efforts?”
“I will.”
Depa nodded and left the room. Anakin's presence in the Force had not seemed like much, but now it had been overwhelming enough to disguise the entry of Mace's own padawan.
“What does ‘moot’ mean?” Anakin asked, still hanging on to Mace's robes.
“That circumstances made the question irrelevant.” Mace considered how to best dislodge himself from the clingy youngling and go to the go to the Council meeting. He really didn't want a repeat of the incident where he'd tried to pick up a three-year-old Depa only to be bitten for his troubles.
“What was the question?”
Mace didn't want to reveal that Obi-Wan had made a bid for Anakin's mastership – Obi-Wan had just had his braid cut under traumatic circumstances and could have done with a year more polish and maturation. Anakin, on the other hand, would be hard to raise to Jedi standards with the kindness and care he deserved. It was not, perhaps, the very worst pairing for Anakin, but Obi-Wan could do with more time to meditate on his course of action and fewer threats to take the child and run off if he didn't get his way.
“He asked after your future with the Jedi Order,” Mace said. It was true, even if it wasn't the whole truth.
“He cares?” Anakin asked, genuinely surprised.
“He does,” Mace confirmed. “I have to go discuss how to help the people of Naboo. Would you like to listen to the meeting?”
“Yes!” Anakin said. “Is it downstairs?”
“The Queen has granted us a meeting room there facing North,” Mace said. “Shall we?”
Anakin nodded determinedly and let go of Mace's robes. Mace felt a tiny pang of disappointment and realized he had wanted to pick up young Skywalker.
He'd have to meditate on that later. In the meanwhile, he made his way down the stairs slowly enough that Anakin could keep up, and gave him his first lesson in etiquette. “The woman who came in to ask after you was my old padawan, Depa Billaba. The other Jedi who'll be in attendance will be Even Piell and Saesee Tiin, and perhaps Master Yoda, if his discussion with Obi-Wan doesn't take too long.”
“You raised Lady Billaba?” Anakin asked, like Mace had thought he would. “You don't look that old.”
“I'm forty, just like your mother,” Mace said, ever so slightly amused. “I rescued Depa from the pirates that had killed her parents when she was three and I a padawan. And the appropriate honorific for a Jedi Master is Master – Depa, like all Council members, has achieved mastery over herself and the Force and is to be addressed as Master Billaba.”
Anakin made a noise of acknowledgment. “So you're Master Windu and we're going to speak with Master Billaba, Master Piell, and Master Tiin?”
“Yes,” Mace said, pleased Anakin had remembered the names. “Obi-Wan was a padawan, but now that he's killed the darksider, he was knighted and is now Knight Kenobi and allowed to go on missions without the supervision of a senior Jedi. Qui-Gon was a Jedi Master.”
“How do I know if someone's a Master or a Knight?” Anakin earnestly asked.
“You'll eventually learn who's at what rank just through exposure. If you must guess, guess Master.”
“Because that's the higher rank.”
“Indeed.”
They arrived at the meeting room given to the Jedi. Mace considered giving Anakin instructions to be quiet, but it would be interesting to see how the child would behave without any coaching. “Ready?”
Anakin nodded purposefully and drew himself to his full height. Mace couldn't help but smile as he opened the doors.
Master Yoda wasn't present, but Depa, Even, and Saesee were bent over a half-working holotable. Mace introduced them all to Anakin, then joined them in discussing documenting the crimes the Trade Federation had committed and how best to allocate the meager aid the Republic had provided so far.
Suddenly, the holotable flickered off, blinked once, and returned to life with full force. Anakin's mop of a head peeked over the edge. “It wasn't really broken, it just had a lot of bad connections,” he explained.
“Good job, Anakin.” Mace ruffled the child's hair and ignored the looks from his colleagues.
Anakin preened. “Thank you, Master Windu,” he said, then plastered himself to Mace's side.
The boy was probably cold – Tatooine was a baking desert – and Mace had just delivered him what must be at least the second-best news of his life. He adjusted himself so Anakin could properly rest against him and continued with the aid speculation and how to best acquire more, now with the help of a fully functioning holotable.
Eventually, Mace felt Anakin droop. He picked up the child and propped him in his lap. A few moments more, and Anakin was fast asleep in his arms.
“What, exactly, did you speak about?” Even asked, Republic aid momentarily put aside. “Your opinion has changed drastically.”
“He risked his life to get Qui-Gon the ship parts needed to get them offworld, with no expectation of recompense,” Mace said. “Before that, he brought the party of strangers to his mother's home to shelter them from a sandstorm, and she fed them without complaint. He was a slave until Qui-Gon bought him, his mother still is, and the explosive charge is still buried under his skin.”
“He will have trouble fitting in,” Saesee pointed out. “Will the Jedi Order be the best place for him?”
“He brought down the droid control ship and was fêted by the Naboo. Meanwhile, out there in the galaxy, there is a Sith Lord in search of an apprentice. If we do not take him in, to what sort of fate are we condemning him?” Depa replied.
“I arranged for someone to free the boy's mother – you can see the mission order in the log. In the end, the decision must be hers, though Anakin greatly desires to join us. I will tell Lady Skywalker of the risks her son would face outside the Order and what we could do to mitigate them.”
“What if the mother is also Force sensitive?” Even asked. “She, too, was born outside the Republic, and we all know the Force prefers to touch those already touched.”
Mace could feel a headache come on. “Then we figure out security for her. She's an adult, which means in some ways she'd be better placed to identify potential Sith recruitment attempts.”
“Are you sure? The child is almost ten, but if she had him young-”
“No, she's my age.” Mace adjusted a sleeping Anakin's position atop him. “She also, apparently, taught him that the galaxy would be a better place if we all helped each other. I doubt she's a prime target for Sith apprenticehood.”
“All the more reason to keep her away from it,” Saesee said.
The doors to the room swung open and they all fell silent. Master Yoda walked in, cane clacking on the stone floor.
“Was there an issue with Kenobi?” Mace asked. “You took quite long.”
“Meditated, I did, and arranged for the funeral. Tomorrow night, it is,” Master Yoda sighed. “Before that, however... Request that young Obi-Wan train the boy, Qui-Gon did in his dying breath. Take the matter of his mother's continued enslavement well he did not.”
“Who would?” Even muttered.
“How did he react?” Depa asked. “Do we still have to worry about him stealing away with the boy to train him regardless of the Council's wishes or the child's own good?”
Master Yoda sighed deeply. “Convinced him to wait with it all until spoken to the mother we have, I did. Wish to speak to the mother himself, he does. Accept that his master left a woman in slavery, he does not.”
“Should we keep Anakin under guard just in case?”
Master Yoda gave him a pointed look. “Ulterior motives, you have.”
Mace closed his eyes and took a deep breath, quickly running through his various motivations. “I wish to keep Anakin safe and in Jedi custody until his mother has been consulted. Knight Kenobi running off with him to raise him alone would, I suspect, be bad for both Anakin and Obi-Wan.” And ... oh. There was also-
“All of it, that is not.”
Sometimes, Mace wished his fellow Council members would be less observant. He had only just realized it himself, and would have liked a moment to meditate on it before justifying himself. “I admit I like the boy and would like to make a bid for his masterhood should his mother give him to the Order, but declaring that at this point feels like jumping the gun.”
“Staking in a pre-claim so no-one else will compete with you?” Even asked, amused.
Mace shook his head. “He might not have a crèchemaster's assessment of his strengths and weaknesses, but he still deserves the chance to get a master suited to his personality and needs. That might or might not be me.”
Master Yoda stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “Late, it is. Discussed aid for the Naboo, you have? Sent your recommendations, have you?”
“Yes, Master Yoda.”
“Then call it a night, we should. News from the Senate, we will have tomorrow. Sleep, we all need.”
They broke their quorum with a chorus of good nights. Mace hoisted Anakin higher into his arms and rose.
This was enough to stir the boy. “Huh?” Anakin sleepily asked.
“We're done for the night,” Mace gently explained.
“I fell asleep?” Anakin asked, highly offended.
“You had quite the eventful day. It's all right to rest.”
Anakin made a disgruntled noise, but settled down. He was an adorable lump, warm and heavy, in Mace's arms, and the various impulses he inspired were now extremely easy to catalogue.
“What's he like one on one?” Depa asked. “Not even an hour, and you're already head over heels for him.”
“Intensely bright. Kind. Hasn't bitten me yet.”
“I was three, Master!”
“And you're never living it down.” Mace smiled at her indignant expression, then turned more serious. “Before you walked in, we were discussing Jedi educational requirements. What you saw was Anakin's reaction to being told he would get to go to school.”
“Force.” Depa drew a deep breath, a complicated tangle of emotions swirling around her in the Force. “I hope he has questions. I will answer them.”
“Indeed.”
They arrived at the room given to the Jedi as sleeping quarters. They'd arranged mattresses on the floor, accounting for Lannik and Iktotchi sleeping preferences in addition to Human, and left a central walkway clear. Mace gently set Anakin down near a corner and tucked him in.
Force, how his heart ached. This was why he didn't spend much time in the crèche: the younglings were so adorable he sometimes felt like crying.
He efficiently performed his evening ablutions and stripped down to his inner robes. He curled up next to Anakin and let the exhaustion and happiness radiating from the child wash over him as well.
Mace woke to movement next to him. He blinked his eyes open in the predawn light to see a restless youngling looking down at him. “Good morning, Anakin.”
“What should I do now?” Anakin urgently whispered. “Everyone's asleep and I don't know what to do!”
Mace would happily have done with an hour more of sleep, but he could patch that with meditation. Speaking of that... “Would you like to try meditation? It's how Jedi clear their minds and connect to the Force.”
Anakin nodded so hard the mattress wobbled. “Yes please!”
“All right.” Mace sat up and folded his legs beneath himself. “Sit with your legs crossed and back straight, but relaxed. Close your eyes. There are a few ways to do this, and it might take you a few tries or a different technique to get it, but let's start with a basic one. Breathe in on a count of seven, hold for a count of three, breathe out for a count of nine, hold for a count of two, and repeat the cycle.”
“Why are they all different lengths?”
“It helps give you something to concentrate on.” Mace smiled at his little student. “Try to let your mind empty while you're doing this. If a thought arises, let it pass. Do not cling to it.”
“Okay. I'm ready to try.”
“Good.” Mace settled into the same rhythm of breathing and, in his semi-meditative state, observed how Anakin was doing. “Try not to concentrate so hard,” he advised. “Let it come as naturally as possible.”
Anakin was immediately enveloped by a cloud of frustration and annoyance. Mace let a gentle amusement flow from him and was rewarded when Anakin let out a sharp shock when he felt it.
“Was that-”
“Yes,” Mace confirmed.
“Wizard,” Anakin exhaled and went back to his extremely diligent meditation practice.
In truth, with his Force sensitivity, he'd almost certainly been able to pick up on people's emotional states before. The difference was that now he'd had no cues from some other sense and knew the Force existed.
Mace settled down into his own meditation and sank into the Force, his soul buoyed in its ethereal embrace. It sang to him of turning points and opened doors, dark paths and triumphant light, decisions made and unmade, and ran its fingers up his spine in a warning.
A gentle poking at his spirit. Mace gathered himself back into his body and opened his eyes.
“Ready to start the day, we are,” Master Yoda said. “Wake up young Skywalker, you should, hmm?”
Mace glanced at the youngling who was now fast asleep. “I will. Has anyone expressed a desire to take him for the day?”
“Working with the starfighters and hangar personnel, Saesee is.”
“I'll bring him there.”
Master Yoda nodded and shuffled out. Mace watched him go before turning to his young charge.
“Anakin? Wake up,” he said, shaking the child's shoulder gently.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then Anakin returned to the present with a great adrenaline-filled jolt of panic and almost jumped out of his skin. “I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to fall asleep!”
“It's all right,” Mace reassured him. “Master Tiin is working with the starfighter people today and would like for you to join him.”
“Wizard,” Anakin said.
Mace couldn't help but smile. He shepherded Anakin through his morning ablutions, then dropped him off at the hangars and went to help lift debris with the Force. Depa was guarding the Chancellor; he'd have to ask her about her opinions on the man later.
The day went by rapidly. He was given bread and soup to eat, after which he traded with Even to clear out mines in Theed's Southern sector. Master Yoda would be trading words with the Chancellor, now, and Depa dredging ordnance from the rivers.
They broke a few hours before dusk for another meal of soup and bread. He sought out Depa as they made their way to the little building with the pyre.
“Where's your little shadow?” she asked.
“With Saesee. He quite likes spaceships.”
“Will he come?”
“He will.” They pulled up the hoods of their cloaks as they walked into the building in the soft light of dusk. “How did you find our new Chancellor?”
“A politician less affected by the horrors committed on his people than he pretends,” Depa said. “He should pursue justice on his people's behalf, though, and his election sends a strong message to the Trade Federation. Time will tell what sort of Chancellor he will otherwise be – he doesn't have a strong voting record on any one issue, and the circumstances of the election made it a referendum on the Trade Federation with little space to show other opinions.”
Mace nodded and surveyed the room. A few of the Naboo were present, doing the final setup, and a member of the Queen's Guard was chatting with a Senate Guard over security arrangements. Next to the body, collapsed into a heap, was Obi-Wan Kenobi.
The young Knight needed advice. With a short nod to Depa, Mace went over and knelt next to him. “Hello, Obi-Wan.”
“Master Windu,” Obi-Wan hoarsely said.
“Reach into yourself and find your grief,” Mace gently instructed. “Dislodge it from where you've buried it and let it float to the top.”
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Mace felt him ripple in the Force, characteristic to deep emotional turmoil.
“I know you miss him, but he is with the Force now. Every time you touch the Force, you are touching his presence.”
“But I miss him in this world,” Obi-Wan grumbled.
“And in the world of matter, he lives on through you,” Mace calmly said. “You are his legacy. Keep it safe.”
Obi-Wan snorted. “I'll tell you that when I next argue with the Council.”
“Be sure to.” Mace patted his shoulder and rose. He'd provided grief counseling to a number of Jedi; Obi-Wan had gotten himself together for the funeral and would now be best served by a bit of solitude.
The doors opened again, letting in Saesee and Anakin. “Hello, Anakin,” Mace said. “How was your day?”
“I helped Master Tiin and the pilots ship out supplies to places that needed them,” Anakin said.
“He's remarkably good at logistics for one so young,” Saesee said, already much more positive about Anakin than before. He glanced at Obi-Wan. “How is...”
“For the moment, he needs space, but after the ceremony, someone should talk to him.”
Saesee nodded. “I shall.”
“Is Obi-Wan all right?” Anakin asked.
“He's sad, but Qui-Gon will always be with him in the Force and in his memories.”
Anakin nodded. It was surprisingly mature for a nine-year-old – but then again, Anakin had been a slave. He had probably seen death before.
Then the Chancellor and Queen Amidala swept in, Even and Master Yoda with them, and the ceremony began. The Gungan who'd helped form the alliance wept loudly next to the Queen. The Jedi stood together, Anakin standing on something next to them, and spoke of nothing as Qui-Gon's body became naught but smoke in the air.
“Always two there are,” Master Yoda murmured. “A master and an apprentice.”
Mace turned until he could see him past the edge of his hood. “Indeed.” He turned back to Qui-Gon's pyre. “But which one was killed? The master or the apprentice?”
A chill ran down his spine. A dark sense of foreboding settled over him. He pulled Anakin closer to himself and hoped that whatever the Force was warning him of, they could avert it.
The parade was scheduled for the following morning. Mace watched unhappily as Anakin took to the platform next to Obi-Wan and the Queen. Obi-Wan, as the Sith's killer, would have the other Sith's attention no matter what, but by elevating Anakin next to him they'd guaranteed the Sith would notice him. Mace hoped Lady Skywalker would understand his concerns for Anakin's security and agree with him.
A few hours of festivities later, the Chancellor and his entourage left for their shuttle. The Jedi joined them, save for Even, who'd agreed to stay behind and assist with the rebuilding efforts with the instructions that should it come to a vote, Anakin Skywalker should have a place in the Jedi Order, and that his master should be someone other than Obi-Wan Kenobi, who currently needed some time to heal and adjust to his Knighthood, not a padawan. Even had also specified that if there was competition for Anakin's masterhood, the place should go to the one with the most experience with freeing or freed slaves, though if it came to that, the Council would just comm him with the specifics.
Anakin experienced a bit of a disappointment when this ship's crew was unwilling to let him on the bridge, and weathered it with the experience of someone who was used to having his hopes crushed. Mace ushered him to the quarters set aside for the Jedi and set about making tea.
No updates about Anakin's mother yet, but it'd take the team a few days just to get there. That meant they'd be arriving on Tatooine just about now and Lady Skywalker would be free tomorrow or the day after, followed by a day of travel to Coruscant.
Mace mulled over the arguments he'd use. Anakin's safety, definitely, but even then, he needed something more. The importance of a Jedi's duty? That Anakin could go to school? Or something-
Anakin gasped. Mace, jolted from his thoughts, carefully set down the heated water he'd been about to pour. “Yes?”
Anakin fixed his gaze on the floor and squirmed. “You said I could go to school, but I don't know how to read!” burst out of his mouth.
Mace poured the water over the tea leaves. “Schools generally start by teaching children to read.” He picked up the teapot and set it on the low table. “While we don't have any literacy materials aboard, we can get you started once we're at the Temple.”
“Thank you, Master Windu!” Anakin said.
The boy could, based on his skills in repair and maintenance, probably identify at least some words on the symbol level. On the other hand, absolutely everything taught at the Jedi Temple involved reading something, and reading was taught to children at ... five, perhaps? Anakin would be either privately tutored or stuck with children half his age.
“Actually, why don't I teach you the Aurebesh?” Mace suggested. “It's the system used to write down Basic.”
“Yes please!” Anakin hopped onto a chair next to Mace and looked up at him expectantly.
Mace pulled out his datapad and looked up literacy primers on the holonet. He zoomed in on the text. “The first letter of the Aurebesh is aurek,” he began, pointing at the two distorted parabolae opening away from each other. “It usually stands for ah sounds. It's also the first letter of your name.”
Anakin frowned. “But my name didn't look like that on any of the documents.”
What else could they have used? “Let me check the writing system Huttese uses.” He'd seen Huttese written in Aurebesh, but- Ah. It seemed they used a different script as well. “Does this look more familiar?”
Anakin leaned in over the pad. “Yes.”
“The Republic uses a different script,” Mace explained. “I'd like to teach you the basics. I don't expect you to learn it all immediately, but even a bit will help.” Anakin nodded earnestly. Mace couldn't help but smile. “Now, let's go over the letters and then you can practice spelling your own name.”
“Yes, Master Windu,” Anakin said, very seriously. “The first one was aurek?”
“Indeed. Then we have besh, which looks like this...”
By the time they got to Coruscant, Anakin could spell his own name and somewhat shakily read single words. He had a wider vocabulary than what the typical new reader did, which made some things easier, but might make the reading primers feel insultingly simplistic. Mace was running over ways to bring this up that would not make Anakin feel like a failure.
They said good-bye to the Chancellor – Mace supposed the attention towards Anakin was excusable due to Anakin's feats of heroism back on Naboo – and made their way to the Jedi Temple. Mace had commed the healers as they approached Coruscant and was thus free to observe Anakin's reactions.
“How does it feel in the Force?” Mace quietly asked. He felt Master Yoda's sigh and Depa's amusement.
“What do you want me to- oh.” Anakin stumbled. “It's ... like a hug.”
“Sentients have varying amounts of their emotions diffuse off them into the Force, and all life leaves a trace. In addition to that, however, there are places that carry imprints of the Force within them. The Jedi Temple feels like that because generations upon generations of Jedi have called it home.”
“Wizard,” Anakin whispered. He slowed down to gawk at the architecture and the speeder lanes that ran in the skies. Few planets were as built up as Coruscant. If he hadn't been to Nar Shaddaa, he had likely never seen anything like it.
That reminded him – Anakin would probably need some lessons in shielding away the noise of the world. After his appointment with the healers. “Come, let's go get the chip out.”
Anakin immediately straightened up and trotted to Mace. “Where do we go?”
We. Mace smiled. “I'll lead the way. The temple is a bit of a maze, so follow close.”
Anakin nodded seriously and grabbed hold of Mace's hand. Mace squeezed back by reflex and felt the immediate delight from Anakin.
They were greeted by an Aleena healer who was slightly shorter than Anakin and had a wide mouth full of pointy teeth. “Hello, Anakin. I'm Healer Ral Tyer. You have something rather nasty you'd like to be rid of, correct?”
“Hello, Healer Tyer.” Anakin nervously looked up at Mace. Mace smiled encouragingly and squeezed Anakin's hand. Anakin nodded at Healer Tyer.
“Follow me, then, and we'll find out where that chip of yours is.”
Healer Tyer scurried off with all the habitual speed of an Aleena in a world full of taller sentients. Anakin kept up impressively well – but then again, he, too, had been forced to live in a world ruled by the preferences of others when usually younglings of his age walked at their own pace.
They were led to a small examination room that aggressively exuded cheer and calm. Someone had painted spaceships on the tops of the walls. It was perhaps aimed at a younger audience than Anakin, but he didn't seem bothered.
“All right.” Healer Tyer raised a metallic wand and grinned. “If you'd stand with your arms stretched out to the sides? Perfect.”
Mace let go and let Anakin be scanned by the healer. Nothing was amiss with the Force and Anakin was more anticipatory than scared. All there was to do was wait.
The wand beeped. “The chip seems to be here,” Healer Tyer said. “Would you mind raising your shirt so I can get a better read?”
Anakin tugged up his shirt. Healer Tyer moved the wand around a bit more, digging it into Anakin's right kidney. “All right,” he eventually said, putting away the wand. “We know where to operate. Now, Anakin, do you know what you need to do during your recovery?”
“Recovery?” Anakin echoed. Force, the child had likely never been given time off to recover.
“Yes, recovery. It's very important. If you get sick or need to be operated on, your body needs time to rest so it can rebuild and replenish itself.”
“You want me to rest?” Anakin sounded extremely doubtful in a manner that was almost incongruously young compared to how unchildlike he was otherwise.
“Exactly!” Healer Tyer said. “You need to rest, eat well, and drink liquids. No heavy exercise for the next week or two while the wound heals. Do you think you can do that?”
It broke Mace's heart that Anakin looked to him for confirmation. He did his best to smile encouragingly and project reassurance through the Force.
Anakin turned back to Healer Tyer. “I think so.”
“Excellent.” Then Healer Tyer began going over the details of the surgery as a medical droid came in. Anakin was led to a different room and Mace left to sit outside and wait.
The chairs here were the color of the walls and worn through with masters and crèchemasters' worries for their young charges. Mace sat in one and closed his eyes. The Force settled on his shoulders like a mantle. He breathed in, deep, held it, and exhaled. Turn emotion into peace, passion into serenity. The ignorance would soon turn to knowledge.
He was bathed in the golden glow of the Force. Waves of light lapped at his spirit, afloat in a sea of the luminous presences of his fellow Jedi.
Something changed. He opened his eyes to see Anakin's sleeping form wheeled out, followed by Healer Tyer.
“Everything went well,” the healer said. “We're bringing him to a recovery room now. He should wake up in an hour or so.”
Mace nodded and rose to follow them. The medical droid moved the hover-gurney two corridors over and into a room that aggressively exuded a sense that everything would be all right. Perhaps Anakin was a bit too old for this – but looking at his small form on the bed, Mace, too, was filled with an urge to wrap him in a blanket and hold him close.
The healer left the room, trusting Anakin's sleeping form to the medical droid's care. Mace pulled the recovery room's chair to where he could observe.
Anakin had looked much larger while awake. But then, was that not how it always went? The motion intrinsic to humans had stilled and the vastness that was Anakin's presence in the Force folded in on itself. An extended system had curled in on itself to sleep.
Mace wanted to take Anakin in his arms and protect him with his body. He closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, and let the thought go with the exhalation. Anakin did not need that right now. Instead, he needed to not be disturbed.
He was jolted from his thoughts by the door opening. He turned, expecting Healer Tyer. Instead, standing in the light was Obi-Wan Kenobi, frozen with his gaze on Anakin's sleeping form. Mace waved the door shut and pressed a finger to his lips. Obi-Wan crept closer.
“How is he?” Obi-Wan quietly asked.
“The healers just removed the explosive chip. He's under observation.”
Obi-Wan bit his lip. “Good,” he absentmindedly said. “Good.”
Mace had seen enough young Jedi work up to something in his time as a Council member to know Obi-Wan wasn't done. He waited in expectant silence.
“I am ... sorry for my conduct on Naboo,” Obi-Wan eventually said. “It's just that, ah, Master Qui-Gon asked me to train the boy with his dying breath, and ... he was my master. I wanted to make his last wish come true.”
Mace leaned his elbows on his thighs and steepled his fingers as he considered his wording. “At the end of the day, the wish that matters is not Qui-Gon's, but Anakin's,” he gently admonished. “Should his mother hand him to the Order, he, too, deserves a measured choice of masters, taking into account both participants' strengths, weaknesses, and interests. You always had the makings of a diplomat, which is why you were apprenticed to Qui-Gon Jinn, who was well-placed to hone your talents. Anakin's path may lie somewhere else entirely, in which case it would be a disservice to both of you to make him your padawan.”
Obi-Wan accepted the rebuke with a nod. “When will his assessment be?”
“After his mother has given him to our custody. Perhaps delayed a bit so he has a chance to learn to read.”
Obi-Wan blanched. “Force. He didn't-”
Mace shook his head. “He's nine. He could do with individual tutoring from a master of his own, but in the end, most humans only get chosen as padawans around fourteen or so. It will not be a tragedy if he is given more time to become.”
Obi-Wan nodded. He turned his gaze to Anakin's sleeping form. “Well, I suppose I had better rehearse my arguments for Lady Skywalker.”
“Remember to rest, Knight Kenobi. You, too, have undergone an ordeal.”
“I think,” Obi-Wan said after some hesitation, “I would rather not stop at this point. May the Force be with you, Master Windu.” With that, he swept off before Mace could advise him more – or assign him a visit to grief counseling.
Mace let his eyes drift from the door back to the lump of Anakin on the bed. The small chest rose and fell to the quickening beat of his breathing. He could feel Anakin approach the surface of awakeness through the Force, young mind twitching and turning with fragments of thoughts that had yet to coalesce.
Then Anakin twitched with adrenaline and gasped. “Peace, Anakin,” Mace said. “You promised to rest, remember?”
Anakin blinked woozily as he turned his head to Mace. “You said you would free mom?” he asked, voice small.
“I did. She should be on her way here now.” Mace dug out his datapad and pulled out the mission tracker. Padawan Oszam and Master Geretke had logged an update stating they'd succeeded and that were on their way to Coruscant. They'd even added an estimated time of arrival. “She'll arrive tomorrow, actually.”
“Wizard,” Anakin croaked.
Attachment, Master Yoda might've said. He wouldn't be wrong, but there was more there, and for now, Anakin needed to learn that the Council's and its members' promises could be trusted.
“Was there any particular reason you were worried?” Mace asked. It was possible Anakin had some traumatic associations with prior medical procedures. If so-
“I had a bad dream,” he said. When Mace drew a breath to speak, he continued, insistent, “Sometimes my dreams come true.”
“Well, your mother is currently being escorted by two Jedi, so I doubt she is at risk of much,” Mace mildly said. “As for your dreams, we can work on distinguishing visions from regular dreams.”
“How?” Anakin demanded.
“Usually, they feel different, though it can be hard to articulate how,” Mace explained.
Anakin frowned in concentration, the expression adorable on his young face, before breaking out into a yawn. “I guess it doesn't feel like the ones that came true,” he eventually conceded.
“I'm glad,” Mace said and meant it. “You should sleep now, though. You need to recover.”
“Will you stay?”
“Of course,” Mace said.
Anakin hesitantly stuck an arm out. Mace scooted his chair closer so he could hold Anakin's hand as the child drifted back to sleep. a sensation of safety radiating off him.
Mace woke the next day to a crick in his neck and a child curled up around his hand. A quick flick up of the curtains revealed a darkness punctuated only by the headlamps of speeders with nary a hint of the predawn light. His chrono confirmed the early hour.
“Oh good, you're awake,” Anakin said. “What are we going to do today?”
Perhaps he should have realized earlier that slaves didn't get to sleep in. “You need to get cleared by the healers before you can do anything, Anakin,” Mace said, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. “If they do, we could meditate a bit.” I would like to take a nap, he did not say.
“You said Mom was coming today?”
“Yes. I don't know what time.” Anakin deflated. Mace ran a hand over his hair. “Patience, little one. She'll be here. I'll summon the dealer on duty, hm?”
“Okay.” Anakin squirmed to be more solidly on the mattress. Mace rose and let himself out of the room with one last look at the child, staring at him intently from within a nest of blankets.
The Halls of Healing never really settled down to rest, but in these hours before the dawn, the nocturnal species were beginning to settle down, the diurnal ones had yet to wake up, and most crepuscular species only just starting their activities. The Temple had its peaks and lulls in activity. Mace found himself longing for his bed.
A Twi'lek padawan was manning the desk. “Hello, Master Windu,” she said. “Do you need a better place to sleep?”
“Hello, padawan. My charge seems to have woken up.”
She frowned. “Is he in pain? It's four in the morning-”
“No,” Mace sighed. “I suspect he is simply an early riser. Would it be possible to check him out?” He bent his neck to rub at his forehead and immediately froze up with pain. Force, this was bad.
“Would you like something for that?” the padawan asked.
“Yes, please.”
The padawan opened a drawer and pulled out a white bottle of something. “Sit down,” she ordered with a medic's confidence, and dabbed something cooling all around Mace's neck and its join with his shoulders. He felt a faint tingling sensation as the muscle ache melted away.
He rolled his shoulders. Nothing so much as twinged. “Thank you.”
“Of course, Master Windu,” the padawan said. “Should I go look at Anakin, or will you bring him over?”
“Let's go visit,” Mace decided. It would get it over faster, and then Mace could hopefully catch another few hours of sleep.
Anakin was waiting on the bed, sheets fisted in his hands. Mace smiled reassuringly as the padawan introduced herself and poked at Anakin and the surgery wound with some diagnostic device, then looked at the medical droid's logs. “You're cleared to leave,” she eventually said. “Come back in a week, and before that if there's any pain – any pain at all, or discomfort, or the like – and rest a lot,” she declared. “Am I understood?”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin sincerely said.
The padawan held a hand in front of her mouth, but some of her mirth inevitably leaked into the Force. Anakin gave Mace a panicked look, but Mace squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. There would be time to tell Anakin about padawan braids and silka beads later. “Let's get breakfast, then, shall we?”
Anakin glanced at the padawan once more before nodding and following Mace. The Halls of Healing had their heartbeat of bacta tanks and medical machinery Anakin was obviously intrigued by. Mace thought Anakin might like maintenance duty for his community duties as a padawan – but that was putting the cart before the eopie. Lady Skywalker was coming here today. Anakin's future would soon become clear, two branching paths collapsing into one, within or without the Jedi Order.
As Mace was not up to operating any form of machinery, stovetop included, he led them to the nearest refractory. Anakin walked slowly and haltingly, ogling the walls a thousand generations of Jedi had decorated in ways congruent and incongruent with what had come before. Mace felt the sparks of curiosity at patterns where Anakin recognized that they were significant, but not what they signified. They could discuss that later – the child was certainly not lacking in curiosity or an open mind. There would certainly be areas where he had his preconceptions, but it seemed pouring knowledge into him would not be like pouring tea into a full cup.
The refractory was warmly lit in sunset hues and mostly empty. A few nocturnal Jedi greeted them, but didn't approach.
“What do Jedi eat for breakfast?” Anakin asked quietly.
“Something appropriate for their species,” Mace answered. “All the food is color-coded. The ones with a red square are for carnivorous species, green circles for herbivorous ones, and yellow triangles for omnivores like humans, though humans can eat most of the carnivore and herbivore dishes as well. Steer away from anything marked with an asterisk; those aren't edible for humans.”
“Wizard,” Anakin said. “What about the other species? Do they also have special symbols?”
Curiosity was a good thing, Mace reminded himself. “If something isn't safe for Twi'leks, they'll see an empty diamond shape. Everyone can see the full menus for every refractory and any dietary notes on their holopad.”
“So they have to look ahead of time?” Anakin asked, indignation in his voice.
“Everyone looks ahead of time anyway so they can pick the one with the favorite menu option,” Mace said with a sigh. “I suspect there's also additional symbology I'm unaware of as a human.”
Anakin looked at him uncertainly. Mace sighed again and squeezed his shoulder. “It is good you are concerned for others. I am simply tired.”
“Mom says chewing dustvine flowers is a good way to wake up,” Anakin offered.
“I don't think there are any here, but I'll keep the tip in mind.”
Mace led them past the dinner options, reading out the names of the dishes on the placards, and let Anakin choose what he wanted for breakfast. A bit of prompting had him pick a pale porridge. Mace, able to guess the price of fresh produce on Tatooine, heaped on twice as many berries as Anakin suggested, added a bit of butter to the edge, and made himself a similar bowl. Then, because he could, he used the Force to balance both of them and appropriate cutlery on a tray. It was, perhaps, showing off, but Anakin was appropriately wowed and neither his own master nor his Council colleagues were there to scold him.
“The blue ones are rydda berries and the larger red ones are zheren berries,” Mace explained as Anakin looked at the contents of the bowl suspiciously. “They're quite sweet, though the zheren berries are a touch tart as well.” He then took a spoonful of his own porridge and berries and ate it, in case Anakin needed visual confirmation that it was safe to eat.
Anakin scooped up one of each berry with his spoon and hesitantly nibbled at them. “It's sweet,” he said.
“Indeed.”
Anakin then scooped up more berries and a copious amount of porridge and stuffed it into his mouth. Mace let him eat in peace. At some point, he should be told to slow down, but some of it might come simply from food security.
Mace's comm chimed. He must've forgotten to put it on mute – he didn't think he was tonight's Council contact person.
Bringing up the message revealed he'd given the sender priority, and the contents revealed why. Shmi Skywalker would be arriving at the Jedi Temple in half an hour.
Mace glanced at Anakin, who was almost done with his food. His comm beeped with Master Yoda's reply to Master Geretke.
If Master Yoda would be present, he could handle giving Lady Skywalker the tour and briefing. He was also small and therefore considered nonthreatening by most sentients, which Lady Skywalker would probably appreciate. It would also do Anakin good to see other Jedi, and he'd want to accompany his mother anyway to tell her about his experiences. Therefore Mace could leave them and take a nap.
He finished his porridge and gathered the dishes. “All right, let's return the dishes.”
Anakin again followed him like a particularly cooperative duckling. “What's that?” he asked when they reached the dishwasher.
“It's a dishwashing machine,” Mace explained. “You put the dishes and cutlery into the appropriate receptacle, and then it washes them and dries them by category.”
“Wizard,” Anakin said. “How does it work? Is it a droid with a grade-five motivator or above, or is it a low-level subsystem? Can I speak to it?”
“I think you will have to ask the maintenance department,” Mace replied. “I don't think I've heard anyone speaking to it, though.”
“There's a maintenance department? What do they do? Where are they?”
“They ... maintain things,” Mace said as he desperately wracked his sleep-deprived brain for maintenance department reports, then gave up. “Though any tour can wait for tomorrow. Your mother's arriving in a quarter hour.”
“Really?” Anakin's eyes went wide as saucers and he, impossibly, seemed to perk up even more. “Can I see her?”
“Of course. Master Geretke and Padawan Oszam should bring her to the Great Hall. Would you like to help give her the tour?”
“Yes, Master Windu!”
Mace smiled. “Let's go meet her, then.”
This time, Anakin was almost running in his excitement, even if he didn't quite know where to go. Mace let him indulge. It would either be a sweet memory or a catalyst for him choosing his mother over the Jedi. Time would tell. Soon.
They arrived at the Great Hall to find Master Yoda already present. “Knew you would come, I did,” he said with a smile. “Woken up, were you, by Master Geretke's message?”
“We were already awake,” Mace said. “Anakin is quite the early riser.”
Master Yoda made a noise of contemplation, then leaned toward Anakin conspiratorially. “Careful, you should be,” he said in a stage whisper. “Need his beauty sleep, young Mace does.”
Anakin's face crinkled. “I don't think Master Windu is very young,” he said diplomatically.
“When get to my age, you do, young, everyone is,” Master Yoda sagely said.
“Master Yoda is almost nine hundred years old,” Mace explained.
Anakin's eyes bugged out. “Nine hundred?”
“My eight hundredth and sixty-fifth birthday I recently celebrated.”
Any further remark of Anakin's was interrupted by a trio of women walking into view. Padawan Oszam and Master Geretke had both changed into Jedi robes on the way over, and apparently given Shmi Skywalker some spare under-robes as well. Lady Skywalker had pale skin and dark hair, and was roughly average height for a human woman. Next to her, it was obvious Master Geretke wasn't fully human.
Lady Skywalker paused at the threshold for the barest instant, right where the full presence of the Temple began. Force sensitive, then. Even had been right.
Then she spotted Anakin and marched over. “Welcome to the Jedi Temple, Lady Skywalker,” Mace greeted her and bowed deeply, like he did for any parent considering gifting their child to the Jedi. “I am Mace Windu, Master of the Order, and this is Master Yoda, who also sits on the Jedi Council.”
“Pleased to meet you, we are.”
“Thank you,” Lady Skywalker said. “I did not expect to see Coruscant.”
“Did they get the chip out?” Anakin demanded.
“Not yet. It's simply disabled.”
“Perhaps start with the Halls of Healing, we should,” Master Yoda suggested before Anakin could more than inhale with outrage.
“I ... thank you,” Lady Skywalker said.
“Come, then,” Master Yoda said. “You as well, Anakin.”
Anakin looked to Mace. Mace smiled at him. “Go. It is your future which is being discussed. You should be a part of it. And I imagine your mother will want to hear all about your experiences. I'll meet you at lunch.”
Anakin nodded and went to his mother, who had watched the exchange with perceptive eyes. The two of them followed Master Yoda towards the Halls of Healing.
“Was this a usual mission?” Alik Oszam asked after they'd retreated from earshot. Her golden lekku twitched.
“You may occasionally be given the chance to free a slave, either as part of the mission or as an unforeseen opportunity,” Mace explained. “If you are asking about the particulars of this case, they are unique. Anakin Skywalker is extremely Force sensitive and publicly helped foil the plans of a Sith who has just lost an apprentice. The Council wishes to keep tabs on him and his mother.”
Master Geretke nodded. “Was there anything else?”
“No.”
“May the Force be with you, Master Windu,” she said, echoed by her padawan.
They walked off in the opposite direction, leaving Mace, for the moment, alone. He sighed and made his way to the nearest turbolift. Dawn was just beginning to light up the horizons. Mace intended to be in bed before that happened.
A few early diurnal birds and nocturnal Jedi going to bed greeted him on the way, but no-one stopped to converse with him, so he made it to his rooms unaccosted. He perfunctorily brushed his teeth, stripped to his underwear, draw the curtains, set an alarm, and fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
Mace Windu woke to an alarm beeping. Coruscant seemed much too alert for his usual wake-up time, and the light coming around the curtains seemed all too bright – ah. Yes. It was half past ten in the morning, and he'd taken a five-hour nap. He felt remarkably refreshed.
He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and meditated briefly before dressing and heading to the refractory named in Master Yoda's message. It was one of the more out of the way ones, no doubt to keep from overwhelming Lady Skywalker or Anakin with the benign curiosity of various Jedi.
Master Yoda and the Skywalkers were already eating. Mace waved back at Anakin and got himself a traditional Mirialan bean stew.
“May I join?” he asked.
“What would you do if I said no?” Lady Skywalker asked.
“I would go sit somewhere else,” Mace said while Anakin spluttered and Master Yoda chuckled. “Should I?”
“Please, sit.”
“Thank you.”
Mace began eating, noting the intensity with which Lady Skywalker watched – and judged – his choice of food. She and her son seemed to have chosen some arthropod off the carnivore menu. Mace wondered what they'd usually eaten on Tatooine. “How was the operation?” he asked between bites.
“I am healing well, thank you.” Lady Skywalker paused for a moment. “Knight Kenobi came to give his regards. I ... was surprised by how high a standard he held Master Jinn to.”
“The Force is a great power, and because of that, the Republic has vested us with its authority. We must be cautious with how we wield it.”
Lady Skywalker nodded thoughtfully. “Could you take Anakin to the archives, Master Yoda? I'd like to discuss things with Master Windu.”
“Certainly, Lady Skywalker,” Master Yoda said. “Head off, we should, Anakin; know a good place to nap, I do.” He leaned over the table with a conspiratorial wink. “Tell Master Nu, you must not.”
“I won't Master Yoda,” Anakin solemnly swore.
The two of them headed to put away their dishes. Mace ate another spoonful of the stew. “I could serve tea in my quarters. Unless you'd prefer a more public location?”
“Your quarters are fine,” Lady Skywalker said.
She waited for him to be done in silence and didn't speak on the way to his quarters. Mace noted how she took in everything in the environment, the art on the walls and the section where the regular windows had blown out a century ago and been replaced with stained glass.
“Here,” Mace said and opened the door – only to realize he'd left a dirty cloak on the couch. He quickly pushed it below the couch with the Force.
Lady Skywalker glance at him from the side of her eye as if she'd noticed. She sat down on the couch unprompted and watched Mace as he fiddled with the tea.
“How much did Master Yoda and Knight Kenobi tell you?” he asked as he poured water over the tea leaves.
“That those who use the Force for evil have returned, and you believe that they might target Anakin.”
“In brief, yes,” Mace said. He lifted the strainer out of the teapot and brought the teapot to the table. “You sound skeptical.”
“I have lived my entire life in Hutt Space,” Lady Skywalker pointed out. “I find it hard to believe the forces of evil would ever go away.”
Mace inclined his head in acknowledgment as he poured the tea. “In helping save Naboo, Anakin has caught their attention. Jedi training would give him the ability to identify and resist their recruitment attempts, in addition to sheltering him from most risks to his person.”
“Most.”
“A Jedi's life is a life of service, including in risky scenarios. You were informed of what happened to Qui-Gon Jinn?”
“I was. My condolences.”
Mace nodded. “Most Jedi live to retire from fieldwork, but our work brings us to fields of war, hostage negotiations, pirate ships, and the aftermaths of natural disasters. We give our children the tools to deal with them, send them on missions that suit their talents and skill level, and give them an apprenticeship where they have an adult accompany them before they are set out on their own.”
“Knight Kenobi mentioned this – padawanhood, was it?”
“Indeed.” Mace sipped his tea. “As for why we do all this, we have within us the Force and the ability to connect to it and use it. We would rather use it for good than sit somewhere and contemplate the mysteries of the universe.”
“Don't you contemplate them at all?” Lady Skywalker asked. “I thought Jedi were supposed to be mystics.”
“Well, we do, but optionally, in our time off. Personally, I prefer going to the theater.”
Lady Skywalker laughed. “Is that so? I didn't Jedi would have the time.”
“Outside of missions, we generally do.” Mace held his cup in his hands as he considered his next words. He, Master Yoda, and Obi-Wan had laid out one half of the branching path before Anakin. It was time to speak of the other. “Most Jedi are given to the Order by the age of three or equivalent, and almost all by four or five. That Anakin has spent twice that outside the Order will make it harder for him to fit in, and some things his agemates understand intuitively – from Jedi philosophy to reading – he will require explicit instruction in and might struggle.”
“I did my best to teach him to read,” Lady Skywalker said.
“You did,” Mace said sympathetically. “However, the Core uses a different alphabet.”
Lady Skywalker's expression grew pinched. She took a deep breath. “Ah.”
“Moreover, he will face a hurdle of which his agemates have no conception: you,” Mace continued. “One of the reasons we prefer to take in younglings is that they have few memories of their families of origin. That way, they cannot be used as hostages, and those who would resort to extortion and hostage tactics know such things would be worthless.”
“You fear I would be used against him.”
“Yes. That is why Jedi are allowed no contact with their birth families.”
“Forever?”
“At least until Knighthood, when they're considered mature enough to make the choice to increase the risk their families face.”
Lady Skywalker nodded. “I see your reasoning.”
“If you would rather take Anakin with you and raise him yourself, we would like to arrange lodging on a suitably safe world and keep in touch. We do also offer services for Force sensitives of all ages who may need help controlling their talents. The two of you would benefit from their assistance, I suspect.”
“What sort of world would you consider suitably safe?”
“Something like Chandrila,” Mace said. “You would, of course, get to choose.”
Shmi Skywalker stared at him with a gaze that felt like it would penetrate to the deepest depths of his soul. Mace suppressed a shiver and wondered whether he'd be found wanting.
“Train him,” she finally said.
A weight rolled off Mace's shoulders. He bowed. “Thank you for entrusting Anakin to the Jedi Order,” he said. “His path might be harder than it otherwise would have, but with the right master-”
“I hope you've realized you mean yourself.”
Mace folded his hands in his sleeves to buy himself time. He considered and discarded calling her remarkably astute. “In the end, the decision should be Anakin's,” he slowly said. “I – had planned to offer, but if he doesn't choose me, it does not matter whether or not I have chosen him.”
Lady Skywalker nodded. “Your concern for his wishes is admirable, but it is plainly obvious that he will choose you at the first opportunity.”
“So it may be, but this choice should be explicitly his.”
“As I said: he will choose you at the first opportunity.”
Mace acknowledged this with a nod. “Do you have any plans for your own future?”
“There's always work for a starship mechanic.” Lady Skywalker drained her cup and set it on the table with a clack. “I suppose I should make my good-byes to Anakin now.”
Mace rose. “I'll let you get to the spaceport before the time difference hits you.”
“Is it that obvious?” she asked with a smile.
“You and your minders were bright awake at four in the morning,” Mace pointed out. “Of course it was obvious.”
They made light conversation on the way to the archives, mostly Mace pointing out various works of art and telling what he knew of the artist and meaning. Lady Skywalker had a new spring to her step and smiled at Coruscant's bustle outside the windows. They reached the archives just as Anakin and Master Yoda were leaving.
Lady Skywalker smiled and knelt next to Anakin. “Hello, my little Jedi,” she said, ruffling his hair.
“I get to be a Jedi?” he asked, nervously glancing at Mace.
“Your mother has agreed to hand you over,” Mace said. “You'll be a Jedi.”
“Yippee!” Anakin said, relief and delight rolling off him in waves. Mace, too, felt a measure of relief at this obviously being what Anakin wanted.
Lady Skywalker hugged her son tight. “Be careful,” she said, “and don't give Master Windu too many headaches.”
“What about you?” Anakin asked.
“Don't worry for me, Anakin,” she replied. “I'm free and don't intend to go back to Hutt Space.”
“Where are you going, then?” Anakin asked.
“I,” Lady Skywalker said, smiling, “am going to the stars.”
“Wizard.”
Lady Skywalker ran a hand through her son's hair. “Goodbye, then, my little Jedi. Perhaps our paths shall cross again; perhaps not. Be the best you can.”
“I will,” Anakin promised.
Lady Skywalker smiled once more and left, walking through the Great Hall towards the exit nearest to Coruscant's main commercial spaceport. The Force sang with planets and ships, hyperdrives and stardust. She was off to walk the skies.
“What now?” Anakin asked once her back had retreated from view.
“Today, perhaps you could work with one of the crèchemasters, and tomorrow you can discuss who your Jedi master shall be.”
“It won't be you?” he asked, distress cracking his voice.
Mace knelt to be eye level with him. “I will offer,” he said, “but the choice should be yours as well. You deserve to know all your options and what they would mean for your future.”
“If it's my choice, then I'm choosing you,” Anakin said, stubborn like a gundark.
Behind them, Master Yoda had the gall to laugh. Mace sighed. “Well, you should speak to the crèchemasters about your interests and prior skills anyway. Shall we?”
Anakin nodded and grabbed his hand. Mace sighed internally as he considered all the ribbing his fellow Council members would subject him to once they discovered he'd taken on a new padawan and Depa's amusement at getting a baby brother.
But first things first. Nothing was official yet, and Anakin did deserve the assessment and an outlining of his options.
Mace squeezed Anakin's hand. He hadn't planned on taking on a second padawan – but at least this one didn't bite.