Surrender Ch. 3: Coruscant II (Part 1: Lightsabers and Introspection)
The meditation chamber, one of many in the Jedi Temple, was dim and quiet. It was constructed to be a place of refuge, a calm point in a galaxy of chaos. The padawan seated at its center knew the room’s purpose well, but he was finding it very difficult to escape from the disquiet and chaos raging in his mind.
He had slept fitfully the night before. His wounded arm had hurt but, more than that, his heart was tormented. He was sure that Padmé loved him—he had seen the truth in her eyes when she’d said it. The only thing he was more sure of was his love for her. What he was not sure of now was whether they would ever speak to one another again.
And so he was building a lightsaber—his new lightsaber, to replace the one he’d lost on Geonosis. It was a craft that required the utmost concentration, which was why he had chosen to pursue it-- to take his mind away, temporarily, from Padmé. This was also why he was failing at it. The crystals, the metals, all fitting together, and… Why was she so afraid to be with him? Why did it have to be so hard?
The shell of the lightsaber fell apart and the pieces scattered. He bent to pick them up, not really seeing them, seeing only her. Not as he’d last seen her, or, for that matter, as he saw her most of the time: stately, formal, and serious. He was seeing that neutral countenance break, suddenly, into a radiant, laughing smile, meant only for him to see. That was the image of her face he’d carried with him for ten years. Each rare smile, then and now, filled him with complete joy at having had some part in that happiness. He liked to see her happy.
Without his realizing it, the lightsaber had begun to take shape again. His train of thought had led him into a sort of meditative state. His prosthetic hand, though, now fumbled and got in the way. The delicate balance that held the pieces in place was broken, and once more the parts lay disconnected before him. Anakin sighed and began the process again.
He liked to see Padmé happy. Would this separation, practical as it seemed, make her happy? He could not believe that it would. How often did she smile when he wasn't there, these days? How often was a decorous and dignified Senator allowed to laugh? And how could a heart that was breaking, as he knew his own to be, a heart in so much pain, know happiness?
It changes nothing, she'd say. We have our responsibilities. And she would follow the call of public service, always making others happy. And it would kill her.
The parts of the lightsaber flew apart, bouncing off the walls. Anakin buried his head in his hands.
This wasn't fair! It wasn't fair to either of them! He was a Jedi, she was a Senator. So that was it, there the matter must end? Couldn't either of them have been anything else? But no, they'd chosen their paths and were now forced to follow them. The padawan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
He'd been hurt by what she'd said to him. "No, you don't. You don’t know what love is. You don't even know me. Just because you're a childhood acquaintance…" Each word like a blaster bolt, striking home, leaving him stunned. Could she really think that? What he'd told her had been the truth; did she think she had been telling him the same?
But she was wrong. This went beyond the mere idol-worship felt by a ten-year-old boy. This was deeper. He knew her heart. He would never tire of learning everything else. Wasn't that enough?
In the dim, solitary silence of the meditation chamber, the answer seemed to be a resounding "no."
Back to the lightsaber. The casing, first. She was a Senator and he was a Jedi, and so he would construct his Jedi weapon. He would use that weapon to become a great Jedi, wise and powerful, respected throughout the Order. She was a Senator and he was a Jedi, and that was all they could ever be. Except… that wouldn't be true.
The lightsaber crystals locked into place.
Years ago, she had entered the Legislative Youth Program on Naboo and had found her calling. Year ago, he had set his feet on the path of the Jedi and begun his training according to the will of the Force. Young as they'd been—too young, perhaps—they had chosen their fates. They had decided.
The tiny metal parts all fitting together…
And yet… something beyond both his understanding as a Jedi and hers as a Senator bound them to one another. He'd felt it the first moment she'd seen him and smiled. If he had some destiny, he had known then that she would be a part of it. It was the will of the Force, and the will of the Force worked mysteriously. Something inside of Anakin knew that it wouldn’t matter even if he and Padmé never set eyes on one another again, never exchanged another word. Even should they each live out their separate public roles to apparent perfection, that perfection would be a lie because their souls would never stop crying to be reunited. They were bound to one another.
The completed lightsaber rested between the padawan's hands.
And he could not believe that the Force would be so cruel as to put them through all of this if they were never to see each other again.
Anakin ignited his lightsaber, cut the air once with its glowing blade, and then shut it off. He clipped the weapon to his belt and strode purposefully from the room.
She was a Senator and he was a Jedi, and so he would perform a Jedi's duty. He would accompany the Chancellor to the day's meeting of the Loyalist Committee.
Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and Lucasfilm. I mean no infringement and make no profit. Please do not copy or republish Erin's work without her express written permission. Thank you!
He had slept fitfully the night before. His wounded arm had hurt but, more than that, his heart was tormented. He was sure that Padmé loved him—he had seen the truth in her eyes when she’d said it. The only thing he was more sure of was his love for her. What he was not sure of now was whether they would ever speak to one another again.
And so he was building a lightsaber—his new lightsaber, to replace the one he’d lost on Geonosis. It was a craft that required the utmost concentration, which was why he had chosen to pursue it-- to take his mind away, temporarily, from Padmé. This was also why he was failing at it. The crystals, the metals, all fitting together, and… Why was she so afraid to be with him? Why did it have to be so hard?
The shell of the lightsaber fell apart and the pieces scattered. He bent to pick them up, not really seeing them, seeing only her. Not as he’d last seen her, or, for that matter, as he saw her most of the time: stately, formal, and serious. He was seeing that neutral countenance break, suddenly, into a radiant, laughing smile, meant only for him to see. That was the image of her face he’d carried with him for ten years. Each rare smile, then and now, filled him with complete joy at having had some part in that happiness. He liked to see her happy.
Without his realizing it, the lightsaber had begun to take shape again. His train of thought had led him into a sort of meditative state. His prosthetic hand, though, now fumbled and got in the way. The delicate balance that held the pieces in place was broken, and once more the parts lay disconnected before him. Anakin sighed and began the process again.
He liked to see Padmé happy. Would this separation, practical as it seemed, make her happy? He could not believe that it would. How often did she smile when he wasn't there, these days? How often was a decorous and dignified Senator allowed to laugh? And how could a heart that was breaking, as he knew his own to be, a heart in so much pain, know happiness?
It changes nothing, she'd say. We have our responsibilities. And she would follow the call of public service, always making others happy. And it would kill her.
The parts of the lightsaber flew apart, bouncing off the walls. Anakin buried his head in his hands.
This wasn't fair! It wasn't fair to either of them! He was a Jedi, she was a Senator. So that was it, there the matter must end? Couldn't either of them have been anything else? But no, they'd chosen their paths and were now forced to follow them. The padawan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
He'd been hurt by what she'd said to him. "No, you don't. You don’t know what love is. You don't even know me. Just because you're a childhood acquaintance…" Each word like a blaster bolt, striking home, leaving him stunned. Could she really think that? What he'd told her had been the truth; did she think she had been telling him the same?
But she was wrong. This went beyond the mere idol-worship felt by a ten-year-old boy. This was deeper. He knew her heart. He would never tire of learning everything else. Wasn't that enough?
In the dim, solitary silence of the meditation chamber, the answer seemed to be a resounding "no."
Back to the lightsaber. The casing, first. She was a Senator and he was a Jedi, and so he would construct his Jedi weapon. He would use that weapon to become a great Jedi, wise and powerful, respected throughout the Order. She was a Senator and he was a Jedi, and that was all they could ever be. Except… that wouldn't be true.
The lightsaber crystals locked into place.
Years ago, she had entered the Legislative Youth Program on Naboo and had found her calling. Year ago, he had set his feet on the path of the Jedi and begun his training according to the will of the Force. Young as they'd been—too young, perhaps—they had chosen their fates. They had decided.
The tiny metal parts all fitting together…
And yet… something beyond both his understanding as a Jedi and hers as a Senator bound them to one another. He'd felt it the first moment she'd seen him and smiled. If he had some destiny, he had known then that she would be a part of it. It was the will of the Force, and the will of the Force worked mysteriously. Something inside of Anakin knew that it wouldn’t matter even if he and Padmé never set eyes on one another again, never exchanged another word. Even should they each live out their separate public roles to apparent perfection, that perfection would be a lie because their souls would never stop crying to be reunited. They were bound to one another.
The completed lightsaber rested between the padawan's hands.
And he could not believe that the Force would be so cruel as to put them through all of this if they were never to see each other again.
Anakin ignited his lightsaber, cut the air once with its glowing blade, and then shut it off. He clipped the weapon to his belt and strode purposefully from the room.
She was a Senator and he was a Jedi, and so he would perform a Jedi's duty. He would accompany the Chancellor to the day's meeting of the Loyalist Committee.
Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and Lucasfilm. I mean no infringement and make no profit. Please do not copy or republish Erin's work without her express written permission. Thank you!
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