Title: Sibling Camaraderie
Characters: Anakin, Padmé, Obi-Wan, Sola, Dormé.
Timeline: Sometime during the Clone Wars.
Genre: Fluffy angst. Angsty fluff?
Notes: For frostbit_sky: … Padmé and Anakin bond over over-bearing older siblings.
“So you’re saying I should have defied the Jedi Council?” Anakin snapped.
“I’m not saying anything, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said gently, just before he went ahead to contradict himself, “but if I were in your shoes, I would have seriously reconsidered giving my Padawan that assignment.”
“Yes, I remember you holding me back all the time. Forgive me for choosing not to do the same to Ahsoka.”
“Well, we can see how well that turned out, didn’t it?”
Anakin scowled. “That’s not my fault. It was the Council-”
“The Council isn’t Ahsoka Tano’s Master, Anakin. You are.”
He had gone to see Padmé the very same hour. They had planned to meet that evening at her apartment but he couldn’t wait. He needed to vent off steam or he might have done something crazy, like lop off his ex-Master’s head with his lightsabre.
“All he seems to do is find fault! Anakin, be more patient. Anakin, you’re too reckless. Anakin, control your Padawan. He thinks he’s still my Master! It’s not fair!”
Padmé’s small hands were wrapped around his own and the sympathy radiating from her seemed to be the only thing holding him down.
The flashing neon at her door alerted both of them and they stepped back from each other as the doors slid open.
“It’s Sola, milady.”
Anakin watched with some surprise as his wife’s eyes narrowed. “Is it important?”
“Plans about your father’s birthday, I believe?” Dormé said.
“Please tell her I’ll get back to her later,” Padmé said. As Dormé left, she added sotto voce, “though why she’d care for my opinion, I have no idea.”
“Problems with Sola?” Anakin asked, gently, taking hold of the hand that had suddenly balled up in a fist beside him. He’d have liked to smoothen out the tension that was radiating from her shoulder but they were in her office in the middle of a working day.
“Nothing really,” Padmé murmured, her scowl deepening.
“Oh now, you have to tell me!”
It took some prodding but it finally came out:
“So the old building on Cartao was pulled down and we’re trying to recycle the materials for construction of the new facility…”
“Are those the plans for the Refugee Housing Accommodations?” Padmé asked, looking over Sola’s shoulder at the blueprints.
“Yes, dear,” Sola said, rapidly scrolling through the prints.
Padmé tried not to feel slighted. “I raised the Bill for that, you know,” she said mildly.
“Yes, we know, dear. It only took you three months to issue the final draft.”
There was no use ‘trying’. “Well, I was a little busy with fighting the Military Creation Act. Then, you know, the Galactic War broke out.”
“And it never occurred to you that a fall-out from this War would be more refugees?”
Even now the memory was enough for Padmé to turn red in anger and embarrassment. “I wish I could have told her that I’m not stupid, I have been in public office for almost all my life but she made me so mad that I was speechless.”
The pressure on her hand made her look down and she smiled a little at the sight of her own pale fingers intertwined with Anakin’s darker ones. “Sometimes I think she forgets she’s my sister, not my mother. I love her, but there are times when it’s so hard to like her.”
Anakin laughed. She looked up, startled, to see his eyes twinkling. “Like me and Obi-Wan, you mean?”
It took her a moment to get it and then she was laughing herself.
I know. The ending leaves a lot to be desired but I really wanted to keep it under 600 words.