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Breathe, part five
Hmm. It's been a while since I've posted more of this, and I haven't exactly acquired a massive readership, but I figure this will at least push me to work on this fic and finally finish the darn thing. So here we go.
Breathe, part five
For once Anakin was able to leave the Council Chamber without feeling like the life had been squeezed out of him. All the frustration over the interrogation had evaporated over being considered to receive a place on the Council. He strode down the hallway with light steps, unable to keep the grin from his face. Obi-Wan caught up with him halfway down the corridor and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m very happy for you,” he smiled, “it’s quite an honor.” Anakin noted something less than happy in his face, however.
“What is it? Are you mad that Yoda and Mace didn’t mention this to you?” he said, half-joking.
Obi-Wan shook his head. “Not at all. I was the one, in fact, who first recommended you as a candidate.” Anakin’s eyes widened; he was flattered more than he could say. “I admit I had not expected them to consider it. But I’m certainly glad they did. No, what troubles me is the scrutiny you must undergo.”
Anakin concealed a twinge. There were, in fact, a number of things which he would rather not have under scrutiny. Aloud, all he said was, “I intend to be on my best behavior, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Take care, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said warningly. He lowered his voice. “They may wonder why you have the bloodshot eyes of someone who hasn’t slept much over the last two weeks. What was it that happened two weeks ago to deprive you of sleep ever since?”
His heart pounded. Did Obi-Wan – could he know? Not know, not for certain, Anakin assured himself. Only – suspicions.
Suspicions, however, could be enough to ruin him.
“It’s not that I’m suggesting anything,” Obi-Wan said in a purposefully light tone. “Because, after all, if I knew something for certain, it would be my duty to report it. So I’d rather not know anything.”
Anakin looked at him with mingled gratitude and anxiety. “I understand.”
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Just keep in mind that the Council expects you to follow the Code. All of the Code.”
“I –”
“Did you know that Qui-Gon was never a Council member, though he was recommended several times?”
Surprised, Anakin said, “No, I hadn’t realized that.”
They halted where the corridor branched out. Obi-Wan looked at Anakin. “It was his refusal to acknowledge certain aspects of the Code that kept him from it.”
“Which aspects?” Anakin asked eagerly. Obi-Wan shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter. The important thing is, my old master was very unusual. He did not always agree with the Council, yet he generally retained their respect. It is a difficult, nearly impossible balance. Failing to keep that balance can be very dangerous.” He nodded. “I’ll see you later, Anakin.” And he started off down the left corridor.
Anakin stood for a moment, his thoughts lingering on this new revelation about Qui-Gon Jinn. Was it the regulation against owning possessions, against marrying, that Qui-Gon had protested? If he had lived, if he had been Anakin’s master instead of Obi-Wan, what could this have meant?
But it was useless to dwell on what-if’s. Obi-Wan was proving more sympathetic than Anakin would have expected. Though he would still never dare speak openly of his marriage to Padmé, he felt slightly safer around his old master.
And slightly more nervous about the Council’s scrutiny.
Anakin’s giddiness deflated quickly as the Council’s pronouncement began to multiply his concerns. He had promised Padmé that he would contact her as soon as he reached Coruscant, but he could not chance using any communication devices within the Temple at the risk of being watched or overheard. Since his parting from Obi-Wan he had had the feeling of someone following him, subtle and silent but unmistakable. He did not acknowledge it; he pretended it did not trouble him. In fact it was all too much like being spied on, and he scowled at the comparison. Apparently the Council had no qualms about doing themselves what they had so condemned in Palpatine.
Were all Council candidates treated this way? Anakin suspected not, recalled how often he had been treated specially by them, and not usually flatteringly. He was suspect from the very start, when he had come timidly before them, an overage Padawan candidate who stood outside of every guideline.
He chided himself for being bitter when he had just been offered the greatest honor a Jedi could receive. Whether being watched was standard or not, he would make sure to behave just exactly as they would want him to. He would give them nothing to complain about, nowhere to take issue with his conduct.
Except for the small matter of his wife and children.
Guilt-ridden, Anakin left the Temple in a small speeder, well aware that his follower was a short distance behind in another transport, probably trying to tune into the transmission he was making. But Anakin had taken care to garble the transmission so that no one could unscramble it but its intended recipient. Only Padmé would hear what he was saying. And if the spy reported this slightly suspicious behavior to the Council, then they could make their own conclusions. If it ruined his chances – well, Padmé was worth it.
The washed-out blue image of his wife flickered into sight and gave him a smile that was slightly dampened by the sheer exhaustion that hung heavy on her face. “Anakin. I was wondering if you’d been held up by something.”
“I was,” he said, his lips twitching a bit. “But it’s all right. Padmé, I have exciting news.” His voice shook a bit, and he wasn’t sure it was from nervousness or barely restrained delight.
“What is it?”
“The Council – they need new members.” Anakin took a breath, feeling suddenly dizzy. “They’re considering me.”
“Considering you – do you mean they’re thinking of putting you on the Council?” Padmé’s face was difficult to read, obscured by the wavering hologram, but Anakin could tell that she was, at least, not smiling.
“Yes, it’s more than I ever dreamed of,” he said, trying to sound eager. “At my age – it’s a great honor.”
“Yes,” Padmé said quietly. “Well, Anakin, I’m happy for you.”
“You don’t sound very happy,” he frowned.
She sighed. “For your sake, I hope you’re chosen. But you must realize how much more difficult it will make our lives.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I know. It’s – it’s already making it harder for me to contact you. I’m being watched.”
“Being watched!” she exclaimed. “Anakin, if you’re going to get into trouble – turn this off, go back, don’t –”
“I can’t just ignore you,” he broke in firmly. “Not now, when you need my support. You’re carrying enough on your own already.”
Heavily, she replied, “Sometimes I think we’re both carrying more than we have strength for.”
He leaned forward, anxiety seizing his breath. “All you all right? Are the children – they’re not –”
“We’re fine, Anakin.” She gave another weary smile. “Just tired. And missing you.” She looked him in the face. “Be careful, Anakin. If the Council finds out about us now, it’ll be worse trouble than ever.”
“That’s what Obi-Wan said,” Anakin muttered. “I know you’re both right.”
“Obi-Wan?” Padmé repeated sharply. “Does he – does he know?”
“I think so,” Anakin said miserably. “I can’t tell him – it would be his duty to report me – but he more than suspects it.”
“My mother too,” Padmé admitted. “She remembers you, when you were here as my bodyguard – she hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure that’s what she’s thinking whenever she gives me that wise look.”
“As long as the rest of the Council never finds out...” Anakin shook his head. “However long that will be.”
“Go,” she urged him. “Don’t spend too much time where they’ll get suspicious. We’ll have time enough – when I can get to Coruscant,” she finished helplessly.
“Give my love to Luke and Leia,” he said softly. He would have protested more, tried to prolong the conversation, but he had just spotted a speeder coming close behind him, its occupant peering with apparent casualness at the figure on the hologram projector. “I love you.”
“I love you.” And then the figure vanished, and Anakin was alone.
Breathe, part five
For once Anakin was able to leave the Council Chamber without feeling like the life had been squeezed out of him. All the frustration over the interrogation had evaporated over being considered to receive a place on the Council. He strode down the hallway with light steps, unable to keep the grin from his face. Obi-Wan caught up with him halfway down the corridor and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m very happy for you,” he smiled, “it’s quite an honor.” Anakin noted something less than happy in his face, however.
“What is it? Are you mad that Yoda and Mace didn’t mention this to you?” he said, half-joking.
Obi-Wan shook his head. “Not at all. I was the one, in fact, who first recommended you as a candidate.” Anakin’s eyes widened; he was flattered more than he could say. “I admit I had not expected them to consider it. But I’m certainly glad they did. No, what troubles me is the scrutiny you must undergo.”
Anakin concealed a twinge. There were, in fact, a number of things which he would rather not have under scrutiny. Aloud, all he said was, “I intend to be on my best behavior, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Take care, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said warningly. He lowered his voice. “They may wonder why you have the bloodshot eyes of someone who hasn’t slept much over the last two weeks. What was it that happened two weeks ago to deprive you of sleep ever since?”
His heart pounded. Did Obi-Wan – could he know? Not know, not for certain, Anakin assured himself. Only – suspicions.
Suspicions, however, could be enough to ruin him.
“It’s not that I’m suggesting anything,” Obi-Wan said in a purposefully light tone. “Because, after all, if I knew something for certain, it would be my duty to report it. So I’d rather not know anything.”
Anakin looked at him with mingled gratitude and anxiety. “I understand.”
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Just keep in mind that the Council expects you to follow the Code. All of the Code.”
“I –”
“Did you know that Qui-Gon was never a Council member, though he was recommended several times?”
Surprised, Anakin said, “No, I hadn’t realized that.”
They halted where the corridor branched out. Obi-Wan looked at Anakin. “It was his refusal to acknowledge certain aspects of the Code that kept him from it.”
“Which aspects?” Anakin asked eagerly. Obi-Wan shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter. The important thing is, my old master was very unusual. He did not always agree with the Council, yet he generally retained their respect. It is a difficult, nearly impossible balance. Failing to keep that balance can be very dangerous.” He nodded. “I’ll see you later, Anakin.” And he started off down the left corridor.
Anakin stood for a moment, his thoughts lingering on this new revelation about Qui-Gon Jinn. Was it the regulation against owning possessions, against marrying, that Qui-Gon had protested? If he had lived, if he had been Anakin’s master instead of Obi-Wan, what could this have meant?
But it was useless to dwell on what-if’s. Obi-Wan was proving more sympathetic than Anakin would have expected. Though he would still never dare speak openly of his marriage to Padmé, he felt slightly safer around his old master.
And slightly more nervous about the Council’s scrutiny.
Anakin’s giddiness deflated quickly as the Council’s pronouncement began to multiply his concerns. He had promised Padmé that he would contact her as soon as he reached Coruscant, but he could not chance using any communication devices within the Temple at the risk of being watched or overheard. Since his parting from Obi-Wan he had had the feeling of someone following him, subtle and silent but unmistakable. He did not acknowledge it; he pretended it did not trouble him. In fact it was all too much like being spied on, and he scowled at the comparison. Apparently the Council had no qualms about doing themselves what they had so condemned in Palpatine.
Were all Council candidates treated this way? Anakin suspected not, recalled how often he had been treated specially by them, and not usually flatteringly. He was suspect from the very start, when he had come timidly before them, an overage Padawan candidate who stood outside of every guideline.
He chided himself for being bitter when he had just been offered the greatest honor a Jedi could receive. Whether being watched was standard or not, he would make sure to behave just exactly as they would want him to. He would give them nothing to complain about, nowhere to take issue with his conduct.
Except for the small matter of his wife and children.
Guilt-ridden, Anakin left the Temple in a small speeder, well aware that his follower was a short distance behind in another transport, probably trying to tune into the transmission he was making. But Anakin had taken care to garble the transmission so that no one could unscramble it but its intended recipient. Only Padmé would hear what he was saying. And if the spy reported this slightly suspicious behavior to the Council, then they could make their own conclusions. If it ruined his chances – well, Padmé was worth it.
The washed-out blue image of his wife flickered into sight and gave him a smile that was slightly dampened by the sheer exhaustion that hung heavy on her face. “Anakin. I was wondering if you’d been held up by something.”
“I was,” he said, his lips twitching a bit. “But it’s all right. Padmé, I have exciting news.” His voice shook a bit, and he wasn’t sure it was from nervousness or barely restrained delight.
“What is it?”
“The Council – they need new members.” Anakin took a breath, feeling suddenly dizzy. “They’re considering me.”
“Considering you – do you mean they’re thinking of putting you on the Council?” Padmé’s face was difficult to read, obscured by the wavering hologram, but Anakin could tell that she was, at least, not smiling.
“Yes, it’s more than I ever dreamed of,” he said, trying to sound eager. “At my age – it’s a great honor.”
“Yes,” Padmé said quietly. “Well, Anakin, I’m happy for you.”
“You don’t sound very happy,” he frowned.
She sighed. “For your sake, I hope you’re chosen. But you must realize how much more difficult it will make our lives.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I know. It’s – it’s already making it harder for me to contact you. I’m being watched.”
“Being watched!” she exclaimed. “Anakin, if you’re going to get into trouble – turn this off, go back, don’t –”
“I can’t just ignore you,” he broke in firmly. “Not now, when you need my support. You’re carrying enough on your own already.”
Heavily, she replied, “Sometimes I think we’re both carrying more than we have strength for.”
He leaned forward, anxiety seizing his breath. “All you all right? Are the children – they’re not –”
“We’re fine, Anakin.” She gave another weary smile. “Just tired. And missing you.” She looked him in the face. “Be careful, Anakin. If the Council finds out about us now, it’ll be worse trouble than ever.”
“That’s what Obi-Wan said,” Anakin muttered. “I know you’re both right.”
“Obi-Wan?” Padmé repeated sharply. “Does he – does he know?”
“I think so,” Anakin said miserably. “I can’t tell him – it would be his duty to report me – but he more than suspects it.”
“My mother too,” Padmé admitted. “She remembers you, when you were here as my bodyguard – she hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure that’s what she’s thinking whenever she gives me that wise look.”
“As long as the rest of the Council never finds out...” Anakin shook his head. “However long that will be.”
“Go,” she urged him. “Don’t spend too much time where they’ll get suspicious. We’ll have time enough – when I can get to Coruscant,” she finished helplessly.
“Give my love to Luke and Leia,” he said softly. He would have protested more, tried to prolong the conversation, but he had just spotted a speeder coming close behind him, its occupant peering with apparent casualness at the figure on the hologram projector. “I love you.”
“I love you.” And then the figure vanished, and Anakin was alone.