JAOA Webpage: http://digitalmidnight.simplenet.com/garden/jaoa.html
Category: AU, Drama
Disclaimer: George Lucas is god. I just slip in and play with
the toys when he's not looking.
Pairing: Anakin, Han
Rating: PG
Series: JAOA
Summary: Anakin must defend his choice in Padawans... even to his
own Padawan.
The worst of it was the waiting. Standing alone outside the closed Council doors, shifting from foot to foot as the long minutes dragged out into even longer ones was both embarassing and hard on his nerves.
Han had thought, when it came down to it, that he looked forward to the moment. A nice, clean break - he would receive his orders, probably to some AgriCorps outpost if they would even take him. Instead of accepting them he would hand over his initiate tunic and lightsaber and, with only the clothes on his back and what credits he had managed to hoard, make his way to the spaceport. He would leave on the first ship that he found that needed help, work his way across the galaxy if he must. He was good with ships and a good pilot - he'd find a way. And eventually he'd own his own ship, be captain and pilot and a free man, to go and do as a he pleased.
None of his late night imaginings, however, had included being called before the Jedi Council.
He had known it was going to be bad when Knight Skywalker had intercepted him after morning meal. Han had been on his way to class, thinking only of the assignment which he had half completed, when the Knight had dropped into step beside him and asked him to accompany the man. Seeing him had brought back a rush of guilty memories of the night before and though Skywalker had been just as pleasant as he had then Han knew, deep in his gut, that all of his little indiscretions were about to be brought to task. He couldn't very well refuse the Knight's request, but his steps had grown progressively slower and more reluctant as they neared the tower top room of the Council. Skywalker had told him to wait outside until called, then disappeared behind the massive double doors.
It was a humiliating way to sever his ties with the Temple. It might not have been so bad - he could stand hearing the Masters tell him what a failure he was as a Jedi - if they had just done it quickly. The waiting made it a thousand times worse. The corridor was perfectly quiet, lit brightly from the huge windows that allowed the morning sun of Coruscant to pour inside. Beyond, he could look down from a dizzying height to see one of the other Temple towers and the stretch of Tower grounds, below which it dropped off into the surrounding buildings. Han snorted and turned away from the sight, scuffing his foot against the tiled floor. If they would just get on with it he could be at the spaceport before evening. He could be off of Coruscant before the end of the night.
The thought wasn't as reassuring as he had thought it would be. What came between where he was and that point was still a humiliating - and yes, disappointing - event. Something that would make the rounds of initate gossip before the day ended. He knew better than to think what friends he had among his fellow initiates would stand up for his name when he became synonymous not with a strong personal stand and walking out on his own but instead being dismissed in disgrace.
How long had he been standing out there? Too long. Maybe he should just leave now, deny them the chance to read him the list of everything that was wrong with him. Han toyed with the idea, but a guilty glance at the closed doors banished it. That way was cowardice, and no matter whatever other faults he had Han Solo was no coward. Squaring his shoulders, he straightened the lines of his tunic and smoothed back the tight tail of his hair. He'd wait, and he'd do it without pacing or fidgeting. When the Council had said their peace he'd walk out with head held proud. This was the beginning, not the end, and he wouldn't slink out with his tail between his legs.
He had counted two hundred and twelve erratic beats of his own heart when the doors to the Council room opened. Han swallowed almost convulsively. He had never actually been inside the room - most initiates hadn't. He knew all of the Masters who sat on the Council by sight; had taken classes with some of them. But to face them all, in the center of the highest room of the Temple - that was another matter.
Skywalker was at the door, beckoning him inside. The Knight looked, Han thought dismally, a bit like Han himself felt; there was a pinched look to his tanned face and a deep line between his brows. Still, he smiled slightly at Han as the boy walked past him, a look of reassurance and support that Han turned his back on - the only one who could have told the Council what Han had done was Skywalker himself, and attempts to jolly him along now were in poor taste.
The large circular room looked out on one of the most breathtaking scenes of Coruscant that Han had ever seen. The bright sunlight was dimmed some, but it left the room awash in a warm golden glow. The inlaid floor formed a circle, and around the outside of the circle sat the twelve Masters of the Jedi Council, solemn and sober in their dark robes, their eyes tracking relentlessly on Han as he approached the center of the room. Swallowing again, the boy resolutely planted his feet at the midpoint of the circle, arms crossed against his chest, chin up and staring back.
It took them longer then he had thought to start, and the first words were not what he expected. There was no "Disappoint us, you have," from the thin gravely voice of Master Yoda, who leaned his chin upon one small hand and regarded Han with narrowed eyes and lowered ears. No "Do you know why you're here?" from Master Idyn, who sat back in her chair, hands steepled before her as she looked at him. No list of his shortcomings or lighting into him for his jaunt the night before.
No. Instead, Skywalker came up behind him with quiet steps and laid light hands on Han's shoulders, making him flinch. "This is the boy," the Knight said, and there was a faint ring of challenge in his voice.
Han resisted the urge to throw off the Knight's hands. Around them, the Council's unwavering gaze focused upon the both of them, contemplative and judging, like a silent current that ran from one Master to the other until Han felt the hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end. It was difficult to stay still beneath that scrutiny and Han felt the hands on his shoulders press slightly, a gentle reminder to stay put or a friendly reassurance.
At last, Master Yoda raised his chin from his hand and pointed one finger - not at Han, but at Skywalker. "Sure, you are?" the Master asked heavily.
The hands pressed Han's shoulders again, a subtle support. "Yes."
Confused, Han risked a glance up towards the Knight behind him. Master Yoda was shaking his head slightly. "Clouded, his future is."
Han could hear the amusement in the Knight's voice. "You once said the same of me, Master Yoda."
Yoda waved his hand slightly, dismissing the objection. "Clouded, his future is," the Master repeated. "Proud and vain, he is. Rebellious, by your own words, he is."
"The boy is not strong in the Force," Master Billaba said quietly from her place at Yoda's left. Her clear voice carried evenly and despite himself Han flinched slightly. "He has never lived up to the potential of his early testing."
"He has promise," Skywalker replied. Han felt warmer towards the Knight for it, though it startled him.
Twelve sets of eyes regarded them dispassionately. Han was certain that his mouth was far too dry to speak even if it had been required of him, which apparently it wasn't. In spite of himself he found he had edged back slightly until he could feel Skywalker's cloak brush against his shoulders, something reassuringly tactile.
"It is the opinion of this Council that the boy has proven himself unsuited for training as a Jedi Knight," Master Koth declared. Han released a pent up breath. There it was, and what else needed to be said? He started to draw away from the Knight's grasp, only to be halted by the Master's next words. "And that you, Knight Skywalker, would be better served to look elsewhere for an apprentice."
Han stopped cold. Twisting, he glanced up at the Knight who stood behind him, face impassive before the gaze of the Council. Apprentice? He felt his heart give a thump in his chest.
"I have already made my choice," Skywalker said, seemingly unperturbed by the announcement. "I would take the boy as my Padawan learner."
In the moment of silence that followed Han heard his own gasp echo painfully loudly.
At length, Master Yoda heaved a small sigh. "More Qui-Gon's apprentice than Obi-Wan's, you are," he muttered, his dark eyes passing over Han to fix on Skywalker. "Stubborn." He shook his head again, a frown wrinkling his brow. "Your right it is," he said at last. "Potenital there is, in both of you." Dark eyes half closed, head dipping slightly. "More together than apart."
The eyes opened again and Han took a step back at the look within them. "Foolishness, this might be," Yoda snapped, and then sighed again. "But forbid it we do not. The right of every initiate, it is, to be chosen. On the master is the responsibility."
"I know." Skywalker's words were quiet, but firm. Taking Han's shoulders again, he turned the boy to face him. Han knew his mouth was gaping open in helpless astonishment. Smiling slightly, the Knight met his eyes. His next words rang out with all the power of quiet formality, words that Han had never thought to hear. "I would be honored to accept you as my Padawan, Han Solo."
It was a moment every initiate waited for, a moment they all had spent their entire lives striving towards. Something that Han Solo had long ago decided he would never have, and having put it behind him, had never looked back. Now, when some part of his stunned mind was still habitually reviewing which ships were in port and what ones he might find work on, it hung before him like a long forgotten dream. He forced his dry throat to swallow. He knew the ritual response. All of them did. But how, by a thousand gods, did you refuse? What were the words for that?
He didn't know and never had a chance to puzzle it out. Without thought, without conscious decision, he heard his own voice echo eerily through the room. "I accept, Master, Anakin Skywalker."
Skywalker's face broke into a broader smile, an expression that made him look years younger. Han felt dizzy, unsure if the events he had just seen had actually happened or not. Master Billaba's voice quietly confirmed it, like a seal being put at the end of a document. "The Council witnesses it. May the Force be with you, Jedi Knight Skywalker, and with you, Padawan Solo."
'Padawan Solo'. The words echoed around Han's mind, bouncing crazily without attaching to anything. They couldn't mean him. They couldn't possibly mean him. Habit alone forced him to bow as Knight Skywalker did, and habit and the great desire to flee the stares of the Jedi Masters drove him from the room on Skywalker's heels. Only when the heavy doors had closed behind him did it occur to him that everything in the Council room might actually have happened. That he was standing in the corridor and Skywalker - Anakin, his Master Anakin - had paused several steps away and turned back, waiting for him.
The words couldn't make it to his frozen tongue. "I... but..."
Anakin smiled slightly, waiting patiently for Han to find the words.
"Why?" Han gasped at last, incredulous.
The Jedi Knight nodded to himself. Gesturing Han into place beside him, he resumed a slow pace down the corridor towards the lifts. "You deserve a different answer then I gave them," he confided softly, and the smile now had the same slightly roguish glint that it had had the night before over the sabacc table. "They think you haven't lived up to your potential, but there's more to potential then student lessons. You have strength, and spirit. You're intelligent and resourceful - perhaps more than has been good for you." Han felt himself flush beneath the shrewd glance. "You stumble through your lessons and plan for the day you can leave the Temple for good. No other initiate I know has ever done that. They're so fixated upon the single goal of becoming a Padawan that they can't plan for other eventualities. You're independant. There is more to you than there appears, Han, more then you show your teachers and yearmates... but I think I saw some of it last night."
They paused before the lifts and Han gathered himself to shake his head. "No, they're right. I'm not strong in the Force. I can't be a Jedi."
The smile held secrets, Han decided, watching it flash across the man's expression. "Perhaps. But perhaps that isn't all a Jedi is." The gaze turned solemn, regarding him intently. "Look inside yourself, Padawan. If you truly don't want this, don't want to attempt it, then we will turn around now and return to the Council. You can be on your way to the spaceport within an hour."
He hated the rush of warmth that swelled in his chest hearing that title. He didn't deserve it, Han told himself firmly. Whatever this Knight saw, or thought he saw, it wasn't Han. Master Yoda had called it foolishness, and Han was inclined to agree.
But the tickle beneath his nerves, the one that told him when to hold a card and when to bluff, the one that made him punch in numbers for navigation calculations he had only half finished during pilot practice was telling him he would be a fool to let this go. It was a dream he hadn't dared to think of in years but it burst forth now, opening before him like a path he had long overlooked. It took shape in the man before him, in the dusky sand of a Jedi Knight's robes, the dark earth of a cloak. He tried to hold to the image of the vast glittering stars, of the bright sheen of a ship he could call his own, but it paled before the light that shone from the grip of a lightsaber slung against the hip.
He would hate to give up that saber, Han admitted to himself. He had worked on his until it was an extension of himself, fitting and comfortable in his hands, the blade a deep blue color that he was proud of. Oh, he wasn't any good at wielding it, but he had enjoyed working on it. Maybe if he gutted it they would let him keep the casing, just for sentimental value.
Then again, a traitorous portion of his mind whispered, maybe he wouldn't need to give it up at all. Maybe someday he could wear those robes, the cloak, and that saber would hang at his belt with every right. Maybe, just maybe, Anakin Skywalker saw something that no one else did. Not even Han himself.
Jedi Knight Solo, a title even planetary royalty would honor, never mind the captain of a ship. Looking into those solemn blue eyes, Han couldn't bring himself to say no. To deny that dream, no matter how surreal it seemed. Instead, with it feeling unfamiliar on his tongue, strange and fitting all at once, he spoke the one word that would propell him onto the path of the dream. "Master."
Anakin smiled, the warmth shining in his eyes. "Padawan."