Chapter Text
With the benefit of hindsight, Mace can admit to himself that his brilliant plan of introducing Anakin to Jocasta as a way to get him quickly and easily up to speed with the other youngling’s his age had backfired spectacularly.
His tiny boyish charms, and innocent demeanour had drawn her right in, just as he’d predicted. What he hadn’t accounted for was the voracious intellectual appetite that had been unleashed, and Jocasta’s combined enamour with the small boy who called her Grandmother the same way he called Mace ‘Teacher’ and her pride at showing off the temple’s incredible archives, had made for an incredibly potent charm offensive. Honestly, he should have seen it coming the first time he’d brought Anakin into the quiet, vaulted space. The boy had listened to Jocasta’s standard youngling explanation of what the archives were and how they worked, before looking up at her with his big blue eyes and gasping
“You mean I could, I could learn anything? Anything at all? Really?” and Madame Jocasta Nu, who Mace wouldn’t have said had a single soft bone in her body, had melted.
“Yes little one, anything you desire to learn, you will be able to find in the archives.”
Anakin had abruptly looked down. His consuming force presence tinged with embarrassment. He’d mumbled something at the floor, tucking his head steadily further down until his neck and some of his chin had been swallowed by the collar of his new robes, padded, against the ever present chill brought on by malnutrition. Their first roadblock. All his excitement had vanished in a second.
“What is it, Anakin?” he crouched down, and leaned in close. Anakin, he’d learned, did not do well divulging his insecurities to strangers. Giving him the illusion that it was just the two of them, even if Madame Nu was demonstrably within earshot, might be just enough for whatever issue this was. He seemed to at least trust Mace. And Mace was resolutely ignoring the warm glow that engendered in his chest. He categorically refused to think about the way the boy had shadowed him, even at some points holding onto the back of his robes, all the way to Coruscant, for the same reason. He turned to Mace so easily now, and his little head lifting to meet Mace’s eyes was absolutely not the best thing he’d seen all day. No matter what Depa thought.
“I can’t read.” He whispers, fingers clenching into fists around his obi.
“Then you are in the perfect place, young one.” Madame Nu breaks the illusion as gently as he thinks is possible. “What better place to learn to read than a library?” Anakin is back to staring up at her like she hung the moon.
“Could you teach me?”
“Of course I can,” She held out a hand, which Anakin still waited for his encouraging nod before taking, “Shall we go see what we can find?” and the two had trotted off together into the bowels of the archives. At least he always knew where he could find the boy.
Except today. Jocasta had not seen him since he left for midmeal earlier in the day and Knight Kenobi, one of the few adult jedi who had also gained an occasional Anakin-sized shadow, had been away on a mission for several days.
Anakin had, much to his relief, begun to acclimate fairly quickly, and he was already being placed in the occasional youngling class. Usually below him in age, but far better suited to his level of familiarity and control in the force. That was the next logical place to look. Consulting the schedule of classes, physical courses, research retreats, and meditation room reservations garnered two possibilities: There was a youngling class introducing the philosophy of the force, and the various Jedi sects around the galaxy, and there was another guiding meditations for older chrechelings, and younger initiates in the room of a thousand fountains. There were only a handful of people Anakin listened to about anything philosophical. Mostly Madame Nu, Depa, her partner and fellow escapee from the tender mercies of Qui-Gonn Jinn Feemor, and himself. Almost certainly, Mace thinks, because they are the most likely to put up with (and in the cases of Feemor and Jocasta, even encourage) his endless, endless, questions. Why this? and what about that? And my Mother says this? Until it was surprising the boy wasn’t blue in the face.
Normal younglings do not question like this. But, Shaak Ti was correct in what she had so bluntly pointed out the first day Anakin had crashed into their lives, this boy is no normal youngling.
So, to the gardens he goes. Anakin had been enthralled the first time he’d taken him there. Perhaps even more so than he was by the archives. Shaak Ti had, again, been the one to come up with the best way of approaching Anakin and his background. The soft, awed, “There’s so much water!” will stick in more than a few master’s heads for long, long time. There is a crowd of younglings scattered throughout the room of a thousand fountains. Some by the pools, some meditating in the open glens, and a few stragglers running from the minders, several in the trees, laughing. It took him a moment to find Anakin among the jumble of bright force signatures. The younglings all let loose here, and it somewhat obscured the bright little star that was Anakin in the force. And his shielding had improved, even if only marginally. It was still better than the nothing he had had before. Enough that Mace could tell his suspicion was correct; Anakin was among the younglings clambering up the trees, but not enough to pinpoint him without having to search for his fuzzy blonde head.
That had taken a while to adjust to as well. The sight of Anakin without any hair was a startling one. It made his eyes look even bigger, though it lent a harsh cast to the rest of his face, emphasised how scrawny he was. The hospital gown hadn’t helped. The little black square that sat in his palm, his small pleading voice explaining about old lives, and new beginnings, and freedom.
“You have to take it all off, when you’re really free, ‘cause – ‘cause you’re a new person now. It’s like, like taking the chains out of your mind. It makes yourself free, not just your body.”
Knight Kenobi had looked vaguely uncomfortable, fiddling with the clippers, and – as he was apparently wont to do in such situations – had offered up a fact: “You know Anakin, the average base human replaces all their cells, every seven years.”
Anakin had looked contemplative, then slowly delighted. He’d sat still while Kenobi passed the shears over his head with a broad smile on his face.
Mace heads towards the trees. As he gets closer, he can see the mad grin on Anakin’s face as he reaches for a higher branch on…
“Master Saa.” It has been an age since he’s seen his old teacher. One yellow eye opens below Anakin’s now flailing foot.
“Hello, padawan mine.” Her gentle voice creaks and sways.
“You can talk?” Anakin’s boyish voice edges on shrill in his startles excitement. “You have talking trees?” he looks so delighted, Mace can’t help but laugh. Master Saa laughs with him. She reaches up to catch Anakin where her laughter shakes loose his grip on her branches.
“Hello, Young one.” She sets him gently down in her lap, where he stares at her face with the open, naked sort of wonder that only Anakin can seem to muster, and regularly does at many things that Mace would consider common place. “I am Master Traa Saa.”
Another gasp, “You’re a teacher?”
“Yes, Young one. In fact, I taught you friend here!” She gestures at him, and he sits down, bringing them all back to eye level.
“You taught teacher Mace?”
“She did, I was her padawan learner when I was not much older than you are now.”
“But teacher Mace, you know so much!”
“I didn’t always, everything I know I learned from Master Saa.”
She laughs again, it sounds like the rustling of summer leaves. “Hardly everything, Padawan mine, you ventured beyond my teachings years ago.”
“That is so cool!” Anakin distracts them from where he has been swivelling his head between them like a lightball match. “so you” he pokes a finger into Master Saa’s face – manners are one of the few things Anakin hasn’t been willing to learn – “taught teacher Mace, like teacher Mace taught Lady Depa! It’s like… like a family!”
Traa Saa laughs again, and settles him more firmly in her embrace. Hells, he’s going to be invited to lineage dinner, isn’t he?
“Exactly, little one. The Jedi are each other’s family, we pass our wisdom down generation by generation, much as people do the galaxy over.”
“Oh! Well that’s okay then.” And he nestles happily into Master Saa’s hold.
His phrasing is strange.
“What’s okay, Anakin?”
“If the Jedi teach like Family, because what family teaches you is… it’s real. Because when you love somebody, you tell them the truth. It’s the kindest thing to do.” Well that was. Unexpected. Another one of Anakin’s unique gifts; little nuggets of history or philosophy dropped like an immutable truth. Never failing to bring everyone around him up short.
“I suppose we’d best invite you to family dinner then!”
Mace called it. He won’t tell anyone, but he did call it. Depa will see it at dinner anyway. He doesn’t think Master Saa ever stood a chance. Anakin is exactly the kind of rascal she likes, if the way she dotes on Tholme’s padawan and grandpadawan are any indication. Anakin’s face scrunches in confusion. He looks to Mace.
“but… you said anyone could eat in the big hall?” his face tips down again, and the next sentence is much quieter. “I thought I was already invited.”
The transformation from a ball of sunshine into a wet puppy is truly impressive.
“Of course, little one.” Master Saa is quick to offer comfort. “The cafeteria carries a variety of cuisines suitable for beings from all over the galaxy,” which was why the younglings always ate there. Mace couldn’t imagine trying to negotiate anything smaller with a dozen hungry younglings to feed. “but it is not the only option. Many Knights and Masters live in quarters that come equipped with kitchen facilities. I live in such quarters, and I require my lineage to come to my abode and allow me to feed them at least once every month.”
Anakin is silent while Mace watches him turn this new information over in his mind. When he speaks, the words come slowly. “and… you want… to invite… me?”
“Yes young one, I think you will fit in with us very well.” She looks at Mace when she says this. He’s not sure he likes the implication in her yellow eyes. He is not taking another Padawan, not when Depa is so newly knighted. It’s only been a few years, well, five, but still. And besides, he’s a busy man, he is on the council.
“I’d like to be your family, Teacher Saa.” And, there Anakin goes again, tripping him up heart first. It’s exasperating. Anakin is making it a habit.