#obi wan every time he's not addressing anakin by name in aotc: YOUNG

[hayden-christensen]

STAR WARS WEEK 2024 DAY 5: DON'T MAKE ME NICKNAME YOU - FAVOURITE NAMES/NICKNAMES

The different ways Obi-Wan referred to and addressed Anakin through the years.

[unexpectedreylo]

Mary Sue Or Not?

Having climbed aboard the Reylo ship 10-11 months ago, I’ve written quite a bit about them as a couple and about Kylo/Ben, since he is endlessly fascinating on many levels and he is the last Skywalker heir.

But it’s time to shine some light on our girl Rey, the heroine of this fairy tale/gothic romance novel collision in space.  And the first thing I want to address is whether or not it’s fair to call her a Mary Sue.

One problem we have is no one really can define what a Mary Sue is anymore; it’s become what former U.S. Supreme Court justice Potter Stewart once said about obscenity...you can’t define it but you know it when you see it.  A lot of the time in modern parlance, it’s a lazy shorthand for “a female character I don’t like.”

But “Mary Sue” did mean something once and it was very specific.  It was meant to describe an original character in fan fiction who was basically an idealized version of the author, there to suck all of the gravity of a particular universe in her direction.  Someone I knew in Star Wars prequel fandom once described a Mary Sue as a fundamental writing error.  I would add it’s the kind of error (usually) young, inexperienced writers who aren’t familiar enough with the source material tend to make.  

The OG Mary Sue from the zine Menagerie #3.

The term “Mary Sue” came from a satirical Star Trek fan fiction (“A Trekkie’s Tale”) written in the ‘70s meant to spoof these kinds of stories.  The heroine, Mary Sue, is the youngest Starfleet officer at 15.5 years old and is half-Vulcan.  Everyone falls in love with Lt. Mary Sue; of course Capt. Kirk hits on her but being a woman of virtue, she rebuffs him.  She dies a tragic death trying to save the Enterprise and is mourned by all (in the early days, Mary Sues often died tragically and heroically).   Since then Mary Sues have become more sophisticated and varied, but are often marked by their extraordinary skills, unusual but beautiful appearance, and ridiculously convoluted names (”Mary Sue” is pretty vanilla these days for a Mary Sue).  They also stubbornly refuse to die.  But the principles remain the same:  the Sue is the always the center of attention, the Sue is always a usurper, and the rules of the canonical universe/characterizations always bend or break to justify a character who really doesn’t fit into that universe at all.  For example in “A Trekkie’s Tale,” the normally stoical Mr. Spock blubbers like a baby at Mary Sue’s funeral.  In the infamous “My Immortal,” the denizens of Hogswarts are transformed into suicidal bisexual “goffs” to accommodate its Draco-humping vampire anti-heroine “Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way.”   (”My Immortal” just might be the 21st century internet troll’s version of “A Trekkie’s Tale.”)

I started reading Star Wars fan fiction 26 years ago and every now and then, I’d run into a Mary Sue.  More often than not, she was Force-sensitive and was usually paired with Luke.  In older zines, particularly ones pre-TESB, I’d see the kind often paired with Han Solo that I’d called “Spacer Sues.”  About 20 years ago I wrote a fic spoofing Star Wars-style Mary Sues called “Hello Jedi Sue.”  In the story the main character Sue was sucked up into a tornado and sent into the GFFA.  She had a higher midichlorian count than even Anakin and immediately upon meeting Luke, he realizes she is destined for him.  Over the course of the story, she leads Rogue Squadron to victory against a stray Sith Lord who turns up out of nowhere (she’d never flown an X-wing before), she pilots the Falcon through an asteroid field after Han suffers a heart attack, and of course she trains to be a Jedi.  Leia is kind of chilly to her at first but comes around and gives her a ring that once belonged to Queen Amidala, the only memento she has left of her birth mother.  Some apprentice gets jealous of her and pushes her off the top of the temple to her death.  Leia declares it a worse tragedy than Alderaan.  Everyone’s crying and stuff but Sue uses her Force superpowers to resurrect herself.  She and Luke marry and she immediately gets pregnant.  Obi-Wan’s ghost appears to tell the happy couple she is his granddaughter and Qui-Gon’s great-granddaughter (don’t ask).  

So you might say TFA raised my eyebrows because some of it reminded me of “Hello Jedi Sue.”  Before everyone hits the unfollow button, I DO NOT think that Rey is a Mary Sue.

I’ll break it down like this.  In order for a character to be a Mary Sue, the character must do most if not all of the following:

Be an idealized version of the author.

Be the center of attention, even in situations where it wouldn’t be practical or appropriate.

Bend or break the rules of the canon universe just to fit in.

Possesses highly unusual but beautiful looks and exhibit a large amount of extraordinary skills.

Be irresistible, especially sexually irresistible, to everyone.

Usurp the roles played by canon characters and their importance.

So, let’s go over that list with Rey in mind.

1.  Is she an idealized version of J.J. Abrams, Rian Johnson, Lawrence Kasdan, or George Lucas (who created Rey’s progenitor “Kira”)?

Uhh, I doubt it.  It’s not just that Rey is obviously not of the same sex, but she doesn’t seem to exhibit anything that reminds me of these men in real life.  Sure she’s packed with girl power but so what?  So are Lara Croft, Ellen Ripley, Sarah Connor, Padme Amidala, Xena, Leia Organa, Black Widow, Wonder Woman, that dragon chick from Game Of Thrones, Ahsoka, etc..  

2.  Is she the center of attention, even where it wouldn’t be practical or appropriate?

She’s the main hero(ine) of this trilogy and the avatar for the audience but she serves the same function that Luke Skywalker did in the OT or Anakin Skywalker did in the PT.  So of course the story is going to focus on her.  But if she was genuinely a Mary Sue, she would be doing everything of importance in the film to the point of making everyone else useless. ��They could be sitting by the sidelines having a beer while she’s basically running the movie.  

3.  Does she bend or break the rules of the canon universe just to fit in?

This is one point where I think a lot of the contention lies.  She gets accused a lot of being “overpowered.”  Well, what does that mean?  The way I see the narrative shaping up after two films, she is obviously very powerful in the Force but TLJ makes it clear her power level is the same as Kylo’s.  I think the movies are hinting she and Kylo/Ben are something new and unique, a creation of the Cosmic Force in its post Anakin-balanced state.  I hope we get more of an explanation of this because I think it would go a long way to reassure people.  

On that note, another common complaint is that Rey takes on skills rapidly with minimal training.  I admit, I felt this was a problem the first time I saw TFA.  I couldn’t understand why for instance she was able to use the Jedi mind trick so quickly without any training.  By contrast, Luke wasn’t able to use the mind trick until ROTJ.  I couldn’t understand why she was able to defeat someone trained in the Force in a lightsaber duel, regardless of his mental state or injury.  It took until I saw TLJ and saw some comments from one of the story groupers that I understood she’d basically downloaded Kylo’s skills when he entered her mind and she’d entered his.  Now I get it.  But this is one criticism I still have of TFA; it didn’t make that clear enough to the audience.  There’s a reason why George Lucas spent time letting you know Luke was a good bush pilot on Tatooine who could shoot womp rats in his T-16 or Anakin could win a pod race...it’s so that when they fly out to blow up something at the end of the movie, you’re able to understand why they can do that.  Sometimes you do have to make movies so that the common idiot can figure it out!

Now a critic might argue that Rey Matrixing her way to Jedi skills is lazy.  Maybe the filmmakers wanted to make sure they had a protagonist able to get into the mix early on because there weren’t enough Force-sensitive characters around who could’ve taken on Kylo.  But then again, did we really see the OT or PT spend a lot of time on training?  Luke fought Darth Vader after about 25 minutes of training in TESB and we never saw Anakin train at all; 10 years had passed between TPM and AOTC and by the latter film, he was able to do all kinds of cool stuff.  And TLJ makes it clear that while Rey had the skills, she still needed direction and instruction.  She thought the Force just controlled people and made things float!

And sometimes the audience misses things, especially if they only see a movie once.  For instance, the first time I saw TFA I was baffled why Rey was able to pilot the Falcon.  It seemed like Little Miss Desert Scavenger just hopped into the cockpit and away she went, whereas if I just got on a spaceship for the first time ever, I’d crash that mo-fo pretty quickly.  Then when I saw the film again some time later, the dialogue makes it clear she IS able to pilot.  She never left Jakku not because she couldn’t leave but because she was still waiting for her loser parents to come back.

4.  Is she irresistible to everyone?

Mary Sues always get a reaction out of every canon character and that reaction is a strong one.  It’s always fierce devotion, instant BFFs forever, undying passionate and true love, boiling-over lust, or pure loathing and hatred (that of course turns into the opposite or the hater is toast).  There’s never indifference, or relationships that take time to build, or first impressions that turn out to be wrong, etc..  And it’s always instantaneous.  

Most of the good guys like Rey but is any of it different from how characters took to Luke in the OT or Anakin in the PT?  Not really.  The only thing that stands out is Leia running over to hug the girl she’s known for part of a movie over Chewbacca but even Abrams admitted he’d goofed.  And one instance does not a Mary Sue make.

The only characters who have more intense feelings for Rey are Kylo and Finn and in both cases, those feelings are complicated.  

5.  Does she have a highly unusual but beautiful appearance and exhibit a large amount of extraordinary skills?

Note the lack of rainbow hair and silver eyes.

Daisy Ridley is a beautiful young woman but as Rey, it seems like if anything they’re shooting for more of a natural, earthy beauty that befits her character.  There’s nothing unusual about how she looks or how she dresses.  She looks like she would almost fade into the crowd if you didn’t know who or what she was.  Mary Sues on the other hand ALWAYS have to be noticed for their looks.

As for Rey’s skills, this is another thing people criticize.  But in the Star Wars universe, being a Force-user isn’t alone an indication of Mary Sue-dom.  Now if Rey was more powerful than anyone else ever, even Anakin Skywalker, that would be a Mary Sue issue.  But the films make it clear that she isn’t more powerful than everyone; her power level is the same as Kylo’s.  Her only advantage comes from being the more morally correct character in the story.

Her other skills are explained in the films and are nothing unusual in the Star Wars universe.  She’s a good pilot but not such an ace everyone’s saying she’s better than Wedge Antilles, Poe Dameron, and Luke Skywalker combined.  She’s a grease monkey but that comes from years of scavenging.  Her talents aren’t just dropping out of the ether.  

A Mary Sue would be the most powerful Force user ever, the greatest pilot of all time, someone who could teach space aeronautics at MIT at the age of 20, have an IQ higher than Einstein’s, be the greatest and most ingenious hacker, a better leader than Leia, a better shot than Annie Oakley even while drunk, cook like Julia Child, have sex like a porn star, have a singing voice like an angel, and is all-around the best at everything that needs to be done at any given time, ALL OF THE TIME. That’s not quite what we’re getting with Rey.

6..  Does she usurp roles played by canon characters and their importance?

This is another area of heated contention and it depends on what you believe are the filmmakers’ intentions.  Are they setting Rey up to be the “real” Chosen One, essentially changing Lucas’s story?  Are they setting up the Skywalkers as unworthy so Rey has to basically take their place as the “gods” end their cursed line?

Believe it or not, I was really worried this was exactly what Disney was going to do.  Now, I don’t think this is the case.  If anything, Rey is there in part to save the Skywalker line and legacy, not to end it or steal it for herself.  But I suspect there are a lot of fans who still think this is where they are going in IX, so of course they’re going to resent Rey.

I came to the conclusion after seeing TLJ that while Rey is important and the lead character, she’s not the center of gravity in the story.  Kylo Ren is.  Pay attention; nearly everything that’s happening in the films is in some way because of him or related to him.  It’s harder to believe she’s some random OC who broke into the Star Wars saga to suck the attention away from the Skywalkers once you realize this.

All of these said, there’s one more reason why Rey is not a Mary Sue.

Canon characters by definition cannot be Mary Sues!

It drives me nuts that people call canon characters Mary Sues.  The whole point of a Mary Sue is someone who doesn’t really fit in with a universe so the universe is fit around her.  Bella Swan may be a lot of things but she’s not a Mary Sue.  (Now if you wrote a Twilight OC who pushes out Bella, gets Edward to fall in love with her, and gets Edward to give up his vampire ways and become a Christian, THAT’s a Mary Sue.)  Now, some fans won’t accept anything Disney produced as canon but this is what we’ve got and it’s all we’re getting.    

I don’t know who did this--I found it on Know Your Meme--but it’s a decent guide.

[shadowsong26fic]

May Fourth Bonus Fic: Part 1

Title: It’s Like Deja Vu (All Over Again); Part 1

Author: shadowsong26

Rating: R

Fandom: Star Wars

Characters: Padme Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, etc.

Warnings: War, violence, referenced genocide, referenced murder, these two dorks and their AOTC angst...

Summary: Three days ago, Padme Amidala closed her eyes for the last time in a sterile white room on an asteroid at the edge of nowhere. Three days ago, she opened them again in a sleek, chrome starship, watching Dorme put the finishing touches on Corde’s headdress, her own weighted braids a comforting blanket on her back.

Padme decides to change things, decides she can save Anakin this time. Except, as time passes, she starts to realize things aren’t happening exactly the way she remembers...

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of their respective creators.

Notes: Bonus fic! May the Fourth be with you :D

Part 2 | Part 3 | Coda

Three days ago, Padme Amidala closed her eyes for the last time in a sterile white room on an asteroid at the edge of nowhere.

Three days ago, she opened them again in a sleek, chrome starship, watching Dorme put the finishing touches on Corde’s headdress, her own weighted braids a comforting blanket on her back.

(She made a quick check of the landing gear before getting into her fighter, and disconnected the bomb she found. She’d forgotten about the backup, but just that one was enough, so Corde didn’t die.)

That was about when she figured out it was real. She was somehow back in her past, somehow able to change things.

It was, she had to acknowledge, too late to stop the War. But she had three years to change how it ended. Three years to take Palpatine down before he won. Three years to save the Republic.

And Anakin.

She had a chance, a real chance here, to make sure that the good in her husband didn’t get wiped out. Even if she’d been wrong in the future (she hadn’t been, but even if), she knew it was still true here and now. And she knew what to look for--the warning signs--and she could keep him close this time, guide him back from the brink. She wasn’t--

She’d been blind, the first time. She’d been unwilling to see until it was too late for even her to do anything to save him. And maybe some of that was just the limits on their time--they’d seen each other only in fits and starts, because of the war--so maybe she just hadn’t been there to see it. But some of it was denial. She knew that now. She was willing to admit it.

But not this time, she promised herself grimly, as she and Typho and Dorme got Corde to a hospital. This time, I get to keep Ani. This time, Palpatine will lose.

Once she left the landing platform, the next hours were a blur of rapid motion. She interrupted the announcement of her own untimely death to address the Senate--she barely remembered what she’d said, but it got a strong reaction, which was the important thing--and then touched base with her friends and allies.

And Bail.

Bail, who had been there at the end; who would be a solid rock of support for years to come. She couldn’t remember when he’d caught on to Palpatine’s treachery--to be fair, she could barely remember when she’d figured it out--but in time...in time, she knew she could count on him. No matter what.

But then came the part she’d been dreading.

The part when she and the rest of the Loyalist Committee marched over to the Chancellor’s office, to start asking the necessary questions about the attempt on her life, and Dooku’s probable role in it.

The part when she had to look Palpatine in the eye, accept his insincere sympathy, and act like she suspected nothing.

Think about Corde, she told herself. Focus on her, not how much you want to rip his face off.

Soon. Soon, she would kill him, but she had to figure out a way that couldn’t be tied to her. First, because killing him would only solve most of their problems. Dooku was still out there, and Palpatine had only exacerbated existing problems to find his way in, not created them. If she really wanted to save the Republic, she couldn’t be arrested for assassinating the Chancellor.

Besides, if Ani ever found out, it would just end up destroying him a different way. Even if, this time, he saw Palpatine for what he really was. And she refused to let that happen.

At least some good came of the meeting. Because it was also the part where she was assigned Anakin and Obi-Wan as additional security.

She played her part as best she could through the moment, held on to her mask and her composure. Palpatine’s cold, empty blue eyes seemed to slide past her. As far as she knew, she’d pulled it off.

Good.

Because so long as he kept underestimating her, so long as his eyes kept sliding by, he would be caught off guard when she came for him. And she would come for him.

But first, she had other work to do.

First, she had to see Anakin again.

First, she had to save him.

“Senator Padme!” Jar Jar chirped from the door.

Here goes. She took a deep breath, suddenly nervous for the first time since she’d landed in the past and decided what she was going to do.

Because she loved Anakin. She loved him. He was good, and he was kind, and he cared boundlessly about her and so many other things.

But three days ago--three days ago, he had gone insane and tried to kill her.

As much as she loved him, as much as she knew he could be saved--especially from where she was starting--she didn’t know how she was going to react to actually seeing him.

He’s not there yet, she reminded herself. He’s still--he’s not there yet. And if you do this right, he never will be. Worrying about it before it’s even a problem isn’t going to help. If you--if you freeze, figure it out from there. Now, turn around.

She turned, following Typho in from the window. And there was her dear friend Obi-Wan, just as she’d remembered, back before he’d cut his hair, and standing next to him--

Oh.

Tall and lanky, not quite filled out yet, with his hands hidden awkwardly up his sleeves, was Anakin.

Her Anakin.

Young and uncertain, full of passions and hopes and dreams he couldn’t name, except that all he wanted--all he had ever wanted--was to protect the people he loved. Back before that desire, that need, had been corrupted by Palpatine and the war and all the horrors of the next three years.

This was not the Anakin she’d lost on Mustafar. This was the Anakin she’d found at Varykino.

And she did not freeze.

Thank every deity in the known universe.

He caught her eye, flushed, and looked down at the ground, and any traces left of her half-formed fears melted away.

I knew it. I knew he would still be--I knew it.

Obi-Wan bowed, politely, drawing her attention back to the conversation at hand. “It's a great pleasure to see you again, milady.”

More than you know. He looked--good. Younger, too--she hadn’t realized how much the war had aged him--and, if serious about the situation, truly, honestly happy to see her.

She smiled, genuinely, and accepted his hand in greeting. “It has been far too long, Master Kenobi.” And then, unable to help herself, she turned to Anakin, hovering nervously in the background.

“Ani,” she breathed, then caught herself. “You’ve...you’ve grown.”

...wow. That was, I think, the single most inane thing that’s ever come out of my mouth.

“You’ve...grown,” he said. “I mean. Um. Beautiful. I. Um.” He looked over at Obi-Wan, who arched an eyebrow at him, then down at his feet again.

...suddenly I feel a lot better about what I said, she thought suppressing the urge to giggle. Which maybe wasn’t very nice of her, but--well, Anakin wasn’t always the best with words. He had learned many things from Obi-Wan. How to flirt was not one of them. It’s okay, love. We get better at that part. At least a little bit. And we’ll have all the time in the world to practice now.

“That’s very sweet of you to say,” she said, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

He peeked up at her and gave an uncertain, shy little smile back--not his full one, the one that always made her go weak at the knees; but a softer, smaller version that warmed her heart almost as much.

Dorme touched her elbow lightly, and she realized she’d probably let the moment go on too long.

“Please,” she said, gesturing towards the main sitting area and leading the way; perching on one of the couches and waiting for the Jedi to settle across from her.

“I know you’re not entirely comfortable with this situation,” Obi-Wan said, “but our presence will be invisible, milady, I can assure you.”

No it won’t, she thought. Anakin and Obi-Wan, together and separately, were many things. But invisible? Not likely.

“I am very grateful you are here, Master Kenobi,” Captain Typho cut in. “I’m Captain Typho, of Her Majesty’s security service. And the situation is more dangerous than the Senator will admit.”

I admit that it’s serious, she protested inside her head. Corde nearly died. I just refuse to let it interfere with my work. There’s a difference.

But out loud, all she said was, “I don't need more security, I need answers. I want to know who is trying to kill me.”

“We’re here to protect you, Senator,” Obi-Wan said, apologetically. “Not start an investigation.”

Anakin, next to him on the couch, shifted a little. “It might be difficult to protect her, Master, if we don’t know what the threat actually is.”

Obi-Wan turned an arched an eyebrow at him.

“I mean, wouldn’t an investigation be in the interests of--?”

“Anakin,” he cut in, warningly. “We will not exceed our mandate.”

He held his ground a moment longer. “It could be argued that an investigation is implied in our mandate.”

“We will do exactly as the Council has instructed, Padawan,” Obi-Wan said, and there was a finality in his tone.

It was the same argument they’d had the first time, she remembered. Except...it wasn’t, or, not exactly. The tension between them was still there, but it wasn’t quite as pronounced. Anakin was still a bundle of nerves, but he wasn’t--he had a better handle on things.

...something’s different about him. Not dangerous different, not bad different, but--different. He was a little steadier. Like he had been--oh, maybe around the middle of the war. After his relationship with Ahsoka had taken its real shape, when things were locked in an endless stalemate but before things had gotten their bleakest. Back when he was secure in himself and his abilities and his relationships, and had not-infrequent moments of genuine happiness.

She wasn’t exactly sure why, but she wouldn’t say she didn’t appreciate it.

I’ll make sure it lasts, this time.

Anakin, at length, had broken eye contact with Obi-Wan. “As you say, Master,” he muttered. He didn’t sound happy, but he was conceding the point with as much grace as he ever conceded anything.

You’re right and he’s wrong, she thought. Well, maybe not about the mandate, I don’t know exactly what the Council’s orders were. But knowing what you’re fighting against would help. And you will end up investigating.

“Perhaps,” she said, into the still-slightly-uncomfortable silence, “with merely your presence, the mysteries surrounding this threat will be revealed.”

“Not if it puts you in any danger, milady,” Anakin said.

Obi-Wan shot him another look.

...I think that’s my cue to let them work this out between themselves, and strategize with Typho.

“With you here, I can hardly imagine I would be,” she said, and rose. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will retire.”

The two Jedi rose with her and bowed, and she headed for the bedroom, Dorme behind her.

That went well, she thought. ...now all I have to do is find something to distract myself from the memory of those creepy centipede things in my bed.

She shuddered a little at the thought. Not something she was looking forward to reliving.

“Milady?” Dorme asked.

“Did you really want to sit there any longer?” she asked, in an undertone.

“I didn’t realize Jedi argued like that,” Dorme admitted.

“You’d be surprised,” she said, dryly.

She could hear Obi-Wan and Typho behind her, talking seriously; she couldn’t quite make out the words; she could feel Anakin’s eyes on her, and she resisted the urge to turn back and look at him.

She shook her head. Focus. “I have some calls to return, anyway. Want to play a couple rounds of sabaac when I finish? I shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”

Dorme bowed. “I’ll let Teckla know.”

“Excellent,” she said, and smiled before heading to her desk and getting to work. She’d be leaving Coruscant all too soon, and, with the advantage of her foreknowledge, planned to get as many things settled before she left as she possibly could.

Anakin had received his instructions; and Padme hers, through Palpatine. Her skin crawled again when she spoke to him, even by holocomm. She only hoped it didn’t show too much.

She briefed Jar Jar as best she could, and went into her room to finish packing, in almost as foul a mood as she had been the first time. Leaving aside the rotten taste Palpatine had left in her mouth...even though she’d made preparations for her absence; even though she knew that, in the grand scheme of things, leaving with Anakin might actually be more important than staying for the vote--the opposition to the Military Creation Act had been almost entirely her brainchild. Hers and Bail Organa’s. Having to walk away from it at the last minute still hurt.

“Is everything all right, milady?” Anakin asked her softly, and she stalked past him.

Clearly not. Which--well, even without Jedi intuition, he probably knew that. He was just trying to make conversation, show his support, in his own awkward way.

She sighed. “I don’t like hiding,” she said. Which was also true. Waiting somewhere safe while other people fought and suffered had never sat well with her. She’d much rather be left with her tongue, her wits, and a blaster just in case and set to work.

Anakin smiled a little at her--a crooked little half-smile, not his real one. “Don't worry,” he said. “Now that the Council has ordered an investigation, it won't take Master Obi-Wan long to find out what’s really going on.”

“I know,” she said. “But there’s so much to do here. Things I’ve spent ages preparing to do.” Anakin had let her vent the first time, too. Might as well take advantage of that again. “I haven't worked as hard as I have to defeat the Military Creation Act not to be here when its fate is decided.”

He sighed. “Sometimes we have to let go of our pride and do what is requested of us.”

Which was exactly the same thing he’d said the first time. It was reassuring, almost, with all the little things that seemed unaccountably different. And it was still good advice.

Not that either of them had ever been very good at following it.

Still, it deserved to be acknowledged. “You’ve grown up,” she said, trying to let how much that pleased her shine through her voice.

He flushed and dropped his eyes, heading towards the window. He picked up a metal ball from a stand on the sill and let it float in a graceful arc over his right hand.

She watched it--she had always loved his hands; long fingers, sure and deft whether buried in droid parts, or gripped tight around his lightsaber, or touching her skin.

Not, she suddenly realized, that he had ever touched her with that hand.

It hasn’t happened yet. Granted, it was coming soon, and there wasn’t exactly a lot she could do about it, but…

She shook her head, trying to dispel the flash of grief at the thought. “Obi-Wan has taught you well,” she said instead.

“Obi-Wan has been a very good mentor for me,” Anakin agreed, his eyes still on the shiny metal ball, which he now sent spinning in intricate patterns around his fingers. “He’s very...very different from Master Qui-Gon.”

From...wait, what?

For a split second Padme just blinked, hopelessly confused, and then--

She had the strangest sense of double vision. Because she remembered Qui-Gon Jinn’s funeral; she remembered standing next to Palpatine and watching the body burn.

But she also somehow remembered the parade the next day, and looking over at Anakin and seeing the Jedi Master standing behind him, hands on his shoulders.

But--what--wh--but--Obi-Wan’s training him now, how…?

More memories, that were and were not hers, crowded into her mind. Master Jinn had died, she recalled--but about six years ago, not ten. She’d...she’d released a statement at the time, hadn’t she? Because of the role he’d played during the Crisis, she’d had to. She must have.

Did I...this is...this is not the past I remember.

“Pad--milady, are you all right?” Anakin’s voice, pitched slightly higher with concern, called her back to herself and--

Huh.

She blinked again, and shook her head to clear it.

After the initial shock, once her memories snapped into place--integrated--landing in a different past wasn’t all that much more surreal than time-travelling in general. Her life had already turned into one of those terrible cheap novels she absolutely didn’t read, what was one more bizarre thing?

I guess if there’s a limit to how much strangeness I can tolerate, I haven’t hit it yet. She decided to be grateful for that, accept it, and move on. Her goals--her plans--didn’t need to change.

She was a little worried, though. Depending on how much else had changed, it might actually be harder to save Anakin. On the other hand, he did seem...steadier than before. Maybe Master Jinn’s influence would help her, even now, years later.

Either way, as soon as she got a chance, she needed to do some quick research. She doubted her personal timeline had changed much, but who knew what else might have? She couldn’t necessarily depend on her memories to guide her way.

But Anakin was staring at her, visibly alarmed, the ball lying still in his white-knuckled grip; his shoulders tensing more and more with each passing heartbeat. She had to say something now, not just leave him fretting like that. Otherwise, he might explode.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just...memories. I was sorry to hear about what happened. It must have been very difficult for you and Obi-Wan.”

He relaxed, and bowed his head in acknowledgement of her sympathy. He gently floated the ball he’d been playing with back into place. “We...both miss him,” he said at last. “We don’t talk about it much. It’s...complicated.”

“I can only imagine,” she said, then got moving again, adding another shawl to her ready bag.

“But Obi-Wan and I are working together now,” he went on. “And it’s...it’s good, we work well together. He’s a great mentor.”

And now they were back in familiar territory. Sort of. “But sometimes you wonder about how things might be different?”

He flushed, and turned back to the window, staring out at traffic. “Obi-Wan and I have been...disagreeing, lately,” he confessed. “About whether or not I should take my Trials. And it’s awful, and of course I haven’t said it, but--” He broke off, and shook his head. “I don’t even know how it would have been different, just that it would have been. I mean, he was holding Obi-Wan back, I think, but I’m not Obi-Wan, so…” He winced a little. “Sorry. I’m--sorry.”

“It’s all right,” she said.

She hadn’t known that before, about Obi-Wan. She also wasn’t sure whether or not it was actually true, or if it was just how Anakin had perceived it. Obi-Wan had been older than most senior Padawans she’d known when he’d come to Naboo, but, to be fair, most of the ones she’d known she hadn’t even met until the war.

And the war changed everything.

A lot of them, she thought, had been rushed through the final stages of their training to meet the military’s needs. Anakin--may have been one of them. He’d been close, she thought, but she had no way of knowing for sure. And while he’d been a brilliant general, the relationship between that and what the Jedi normally looked for was unclear.

In any case, the war itself had pushed him. It had pushed all of them--she couldn’t help but think of Ahsoka, and Barriss Offee, too. The young Jedi had grown up fast, and grown up hard, and maybe missing a few things along the way.

She couldn’t prevent that, or at least not entirely. It was too late to stop the war. She’d accepted that from the beginning. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. That didn’t mean she couldn’t try to make up for it, somehow.

“Anakin…” she said quietly, then stopped. There were so many things she wished she could say, and none of them--all of them were too close to the truth.

And the truth would only hurt him.

“Don’t...don’t try to grow up too fast,” she finally said.

“But I am grown up,” he said, turning back from the window with a slightly crooked smile. Trying to lighten the mood, maybe. “You said so yourself.”

And she had meant something entirely different then. She flushed a little, her eyes drawn again to his hands, remembering.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. “I did,” she admitted, feeling the heat of his eyes on her. She looked up to meet his gaze and held it, taking half a step towards him.

“I-I…” He stammered a little, flustered and uncertain. “Padme...I…” He took a deep, shaky breath, and--

Looked down and away. His hands clenched briefly, then disappeared up his sleeves, and he took a step back.

“...Ani?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should...I should let you finish packing. Milady. I’ll be right outside, if you need me.” He sketched a hasty bow, then strode out without waiting for her acknowledgement, adjusting his path minutely so he wouldn’t crash into Dorme, who was coming in.

Dorme blinked and watched him go, then turned to Padme with one eyebrow raised. “Is everything all right, milady?”

Padme took a deep breath of her own, and let it out slowly.

What...what just happened? What did I do wrong? Was it too much, too fast? Or--or maybe he felt Dorme coming? He wasn’t that careful last time, but…well, he’s more careful in general now. That would make sense…

“Milady?” Dorme asked again.

“Everything’s fine,” she said, and sighed a little. “Everything’s perfectly fine.”

Their departure from Coruscant, huddled on the cramped, crowded deck of the refugee freighter, went almost exactly as it had the first time. Except that Anakin was a little quieter, withdrawn and pensive. He kept--stopping, just short of touching her. Even innocent touches, like taking her wrist or putting a hand at the small of her back to guide her along or keep her close in a crowd.

Even in public, in their other life, he hadn’t been so discreet.

She found herself missing it. Not the--well, all right, yes, the kissing and the more romantic gestures, too, but just the little things like that.

If she couldn’t feel the heat in his eyes, hear the hint of desperate, almost wistful longing every time he spoke, she would have been worried he didn’t--that something Master Jinn had done with him had changed him enough that he didn’t love her anymore.

But, no; she might not be a Jedi and able to actually sense his feelings, but she knew him. She knew how to read his expressions, the tone of his voice, the level of care with which he chose his words.  He did love her, just as he had before. All she had to do was get him to admit it.

She waited until they were settled on the ship, then decided to try the same conversation they’d had the first time around. It had pushed them in the right direction then, after all--why not now?

“It must be difficult,” she said, “having sworn your life to the Jedi. Not being able to visit the places you like...or do the things you like…”

“Or be with the people I love,” he said, then caught himself and flushed. “Like my...my mother; I haven’t seen her in years. Not since Master Qui-Gon and I went to free her.”

The impact of that particular change jolted through her, almost like an electric shock, and she could have cried with relief. Not just because...not just because of what losing her had done to Anakin the first time--though, even if this lifetime lasted a thousand years, she didn’t think she’d ever forget the hell in his eyes when he confessed what he’d done that awful morning in his stepfather’s garage--but also because she’d liked Anakin’s mother quite a bit. Shmi Skywalker had deserved a much better life than the one she’d been forced to live. Even if nothing else--even if the worst should happen, if everything else went horribly wrong, Padme could be grateful for this one, purely positive change.

“Do you know where she is now?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not...not exactly,” he admitted. “But I know she’s safe. That’s enough. Master Qui-Gon said…” He sighed. “He said it was better that way. Better, for both of us, if I let her go.”

“Oh,” she said. “Is that...it really is forbidden, then, for a Jedi to love? Even their family?”

He flinched a little, and looked down at his bowl. “It’s not...that simple. Attachment is forbidden. Possession is forbidden. But that’s not...those aren’t love, exactly, I don’t think. They…look like it, maybe, from the inside. But love, real love, is more...it’s not like that.”

“Because it’s unconditional?” she asked. He’d said that, or at least hinted at it,the first time; linking it to compassion. She didn’t remember the exact words, but it had been...nice. Even if she was fairly sure it was not correct, orthodox interpretation of the Jedi Code.

“Something like that,” he said.

He was clearly uncomfortable with the subject, so she let it drop, for now. So she’d talked about other things, instead--about home, about her own family, about some of the work she’d been doing lately. Hoping to draw him out of this strange new shell, somehow.

It didn’t work as well as she’d hoped; he said very little. But she did have his undivided attention, and every so often she caught the ghost of a wistful, fond smile before he looked away.

She could work with that. And when they got to the lake house--yes. She could build something beautiful from here.