Chapter Text
THE CONJOINED hands of Anakin and Lesmerie tightened, palms pressed against each other–hand trailing after another, connected by an invisible string that transcended beyond the galaxy. Anakin pulled Lesmerie's hand, guiding her onto the metallic steel floor as pristine as its construction. The soft inhale of air extracted itself into the swirling air–the young girl gasping. Strands of brown and blonde flew back against the currents; wind brushing against them like a mother's hand–a soft, fluid, loving caress.
Their knees buckled as they lifted higher in elevation, the interior of the grand ship nearing in distance. Hollow footsteps echoed, and breathing reverberated through the walls. Young Lesmerie could see glimpses of the Jedi Knights behind Anakin's head, the prior dispersing from Queen Amidala and her retinue. Anakin's eyes bounced, darting around the ship as their feet covered and entered the terrain beyond the blast door. He took in the towering figures of Jedi Master Qui-Gon, and his padawan, Obi-Wan, their hair reflecting, almost glowing under the crafted artificial lights. Qui-Gon walked in line with Obi-Wan and the Captain, a minuscule smile embellishing the perfect face of the Republic's warrior.
The young children slowed, their paces halting from the gradual extinction of their endeavor. Forceful wind blasted against the figures of the adolescents, the blast door rising in elevation and subduing the gravitational pull of the wind. Their hearts beat in sync, strands of hair blowing in tune. Their young lungs exhaled the breath of air caged in the cells, leaping into the crushing wind by the cause of the ship's separation from the outside world surrounding them.
Lesmerie's eyes were closed, instinctively protecting her from the bruising wind. Her eyebrows furrowed in a form of recollection–trying to conform to her formal and structural mannerisms, running through the passing events that seemed near as time but distant as the galaxy. She could still feel the brushing of feathered fingertips against her hair, the graze that flowed through and against her skin. Warmth spread across the girl like wildfire, her skin flushed, and her veins pulsed.
Young Anakin stood still, staring at his dirty feet; his mind full of the remnants of Naboo's dust, the lingering confusion, and the warmth of another. His eyes were glossy, clouded with perplexion, a multitude of emotions twisting inside him. There was a pull that he could feel. A pull in his pubescent soul, one that he knew no knowledge of its belonging or its cause. Was it fear? Was it the yearn for his mother? Anakin grimaced, face telling of his emotions. He could hear his heart racing–racing as if it could somehow outrun the uncertainty that is him and his emotions.
The two stood parallel to each other, with faces opposite of one another, and bodies across from each other. Their tied hands were the only thing breaking the logistics of what just was–the gentle touch and warmth something far greater than any understood. Anakin's eyes rose, meeting the brown pupils harbored by Lesmerie. His eyes raked over the loosened strands of hair that had fallen from place, the stillness of its motion bringing realization that the blast door had closed–unbeknownst to them. His blue vibrant eyes were aligned with Lesmerie's, whose eyes held reserve and eyebrows had evened out at the meeting of their eyes. Lesmerie could feel the tension in him, the shift in air and mood. She didn't know, she didn't know what to do.
She looked at him–at Ani. She looked at the messy nest that was his hair, blown out of formation by the wind that had pushed against them. His blue eyes watched hers, and his left hand fidgeted with his linen sack-like pants. She knew that her heart was stirring with something–something she lacked understanding of why and how; she couldn't explain it.
Lesmerie took a deep breath, her lungs filling with the air that seemed to twirl and leap around them–her lips parting slightly. Soft words escaped her cavernous mouth, a soft mumble of gratitude flowing to the ears of Anakin Skywalker. "Thank you," she began, voice shy and low. She stared at Anakin's eyes, darting between the two windows to his soul, "Ani," she continued. The boy stared at her, eyelids fluttering by the slightest. She inhaled, worry seeping through her troubled mind. "Anakin," she addressed, voice suddenly monotone and shifted. A small smile graced the young boy's face, the childish mannerisms he had disregarded resurfacing on his exterior–though it was fleeting.
"You are," Anakin began, his sentence losing volume before he halted. His eyes averted to their hands, the warmth of Lesmerie fleeting–only a small residue that quickly developed to lukewarm remaining in his palm. She had pulled away. She had taken her hand out of his, breaking the connection that had pooled in the back of Anakin's mind.
His words and thoughts were jumbled together like mush, confusion and a sting waning in. She stared at him for a heartbeat, eyes raking over his distant figure–his eyes focused on his empty hand. She did the only thing she knew to do. Lesmerie's feet swerved around his figure, taking quick drags and walking far from the boy, her figure falling in line with her royal companions.
Anakin exhaled, his lids closing hard against his eyes. There was a sting behind his eyes and a minuscule tremble from his lips. He stood in the same spot, unmoving, ears picking up on the retreating footsteps that softly echoed among others. His eyes opened, and his head turned to look behind him–at her. Towering figures closed in the gap she passed, obscuring the view of Lesmerie and Queen Amidala. Anakin's mouth parted, the breath of a sentence falling lost in the air around. "Welcome," he mumbled.
A mix of frustration and strong confusion washed over Anakin. What was it? he asked himself. His dirtied and booted feet dragged him to the front of the ship, each of his steps heavier than the last. Obi-Wan turned, throwing a glance at the young distracted boy. He could feel it; the emptiness that carried through the atmosphere–the stilling of a childish dance among the air.
Lesmerie's eyes were fixed on the reflective floor, her small figure standing beside the grandness belonging to that of Naboo's Queen. Her small voice in her head had tried to disregard the event she had torn herself from, but there was a tug that overpowered her worries: A tug that pulled–yanked–at the edges of her thoughts. A tug that had made her turn back to the boy, trying to see his fleeting figure. But she was met with nothing of his presence. Her eyes were obscured by the bodies of Padme's bodyguards, all harmonically adorned in uniforms exact of their Queen's.
Her stomach sunk, and her eyes fell– head turning back in front of her. Her eyes once more trailed to the floor, taking in the steel metallic reflection of her face. She watched her young hands interlacing with themselves, instinctively resting against her burgundy robe. There was a warmth that lacked, and Lesmerie only chewed her lip, ignoring the short glance Padme had thrown at her through the reflection.
Lesmerie turned a corner in unison with the Nabooian citizens, the silver and rumble of the ship causing jitters in her stomach. She swallowed harshly, biting deeper into her bottom lip.
.
Lesmerie trailed behind Padme, her hands scrunching the thick woolen robe for easy access to the steps. They were on Naboo's royal grounds, grand buildings tall and aged in beauty. Gold adorned small amounts of historical grounds, and nature was shown in selective amounts. The ground beneath was clothed in dull gray titles, two groups of different values attempting to claim ownership. Padme stepped onto the last step, her gaze fixed ahead on the armed guarding droids. Her right hand tightened around the wooden grip of her blaster pistol, maneuvering behind a beige pillar.
Her gaze was aimed at the aged royal bridge, its foundation curved before meeting with bricked walls. Vines scratched under the bridge, and flowers blossomed beyond its structure. Padme's eyes held grave determination, eyebrows angled as she pointed the gray metallic pointer. Blue light flickered to the taps of her finger, and she held her breath in anticipation.
A second ticked by, and then another. The droids systematically paraded around the castle grounds, limbs faintly emitting sounds of transcending voltage. Their limbs strained against their torsos, pulling and tugging to take repetitive steps.
The push of a gentle breeze brushed against her figure and strands of brunette locks glided about. She swallowed thickly, awaiting a signal. A shadow tracked just beyond the towering walls, burgundy contrasting with a dull blue. Captain Panaka narrowed his eyes at the expected figure of his Queen, countering back with the flicker of his pointer. Padme nodded, swiftly placing her pointer in the pockets of her robe.
The Captain waved his hand, signaling the start of the readied plan. Lesmerie squinted, attempting to catch the slightest glimpse of the divided group. However, her attention was quickly diverted by the emergence of a warm and calloused hand--resting on her shoulder. She turned, gaze being met with the squatting image of Jedi Master Qui Gon.
His left hand rested on Anakin's shoulder, with the young boy's blue eyes meeting to face the Jedi. Qui-Gon darted his eyes between the two, hair faintly blowing against the wind. "Once we get inside," he began, voice low and careful. His eyebrows sternly furrowed, and his hands adjusted to grip Anakin and Lesmerie's outer shoulders. "You two find a safe place to hide and stay there."
Lesmerie cast a minuscule glance toward Anakin. His attention was tracking Qui-Gon, and his figure was relaxed. She found it perplexing. Her eyebrows knitted in observation, before turning to catch the gaze of the Jedi Master. "Sure," Anakin assured. Lesmerie swallowed thinly, at the raised eyebrow directed toward her. Her hands folded in front of her, resting against the uniformed robe. "I understand," she acknowledged, head bowing in respect.
Qui-Gon averted his eyes to Anakin. "Stay there," he stated. Anakin nodded. The Jedi stood with grandeur, his composure gleaming with excellence and assurance. Padme evened her shoulders, eyes reeled into the emerging presence of the Nabooian guards and police. Lesmerie turned, facing the silent ambush that fell into pieces beyond her stare.
A tank pod hovered over the ground, gliding in position between the momentous gap between Nabooian officials. Obi-Wan took in the three figures stationed in the pod, uniforms beige and mahogany. The Royal Security Force pointed their blasters at the droids, positioned in chilling precision.
The air stilled, contradicting the sunny weather amid Naboo. Sandy-hair peered from beside Lesmerie, attempting to steal a glimpse of the situation. His view, however, became blocked, as Obi-Wan pulled his figure further behind the pillar. Anakin's expression turned sour.
Padme inhaled a deep breath, closing her eyes at the expected diversion. In a split second, the ground shook as the sky reverberated a booming sound. Heat expanded beyond its origin, trailing toward the calculated target. Lesmerie flinched, a frightened squeal escaping her shivering physique. And Anakin's body froze against time.
Metallic limbs blasted into the air, and the cries of their owners found sanctuary amongst the wind. Robotic squawks grew in volume, and miniature blasts soared the grounds. Lemerie's breath hitched as Padme regained her composure. She turned to face the Jedi, nodding in authority. The Jedi reciprocated, following her maneuvering figure.
Anakin and Lesmerie trailed behind, jogging in line with R2-D2. Electrical current sounded in their ears, and the two stared ahead at Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. Their lightsabers were switched on, power cells extracting elevated amounts of plasma Kyber crystals' energy.
Padme ran against the towering design of Royal Nabooian towers, turning the corner in haste. Her royal blaster was pointed in her hand, loaded, and set to fire. Lesmerie gripped the sides of her robe, crumpling the material inside her fists. She ran beside Anakin, shoulders brushing into each other's very often.
Her brows were curved with anxiety, and her upper teeth were clamped on her bottom lip. Blonde hair continuously penetrated her line of view, flapping in the wind. Young Anakin picked up his speed, legs pushing higher off the ground. His arm brushed against the clothed forearm of Lesmerie, swiftly furthering away amid his run. His eyes were instinctively narrowed at the constant fatal blasts near his faction.
A cry of terror sounded from Lesmerire, her head nearly ducking the green blasts from a nearing droid. Her eyes flinched close, immediately retaliating and opening once more. Obi-Wan drew out his weapon, a blue glow slashing through the torso of a droid. The android fell to the floor, hands grazing the young girl's boots. She grimaced, withdrawing her figure away from the open grounds.
Firing weapons blared behind Padme and her group, gradually dipping in volume as they neared the insides of noble walls. She gazed ahead at the authoritative doors, her mind retrieving recollection of its data-based automatic nature. Her feet carried her to the polished panel, and her right hand rested against a scanning device. Warmth traveled from her fingertips to her palms before the screen turned a light shade of blue, permitting permission to The Queen and her attendees.
Qui-Gon ushered Lesmerie and Anakin inside, eyes scanning the hallways for any danger unbeknownst to the force. There were none. The air felt tense, sterile, and uninhabitable—Lesmerie depicted that so. Her adolescent figure clawed her nails against her robes, knuckles turning white. Terror was painted on her face, and her shoulders were hunched. Slight shivers traveled her body at each blast that echoed through the walls. And her eyes stung.
She hiccupped at the emergence of footsteps, instantaneously pivoting her attention behind her. Nabooian officials neared into their group, and Captain Panaka was appointed in the center. His police force was crouched in firing position, and their blasters were pointed in several directions —a few firing at unsuspecting droids. Lesmerie flinched, picking up her speed and falling in line with Anakin.
Young Anakin stole a glance at Lesmerie, taking in the quiver in her lips and crease in her brows. Her eyes were glassy, nearly reflecting the vibrant hues that traveled and spliced through the air. Strands of his sandy hair fought against the current, and minuscule follicles penetrated his eyes. He blinked repeatedly, hand raising to adjust his hair. His attention, however, was torn from the handmaiden—swiped by the multitude of enemy blasters that nearly missed his head. He ducked, running behind the Jedi Masters with Lesmerie in alignment.
Padme glanced at Obi-Wan, whose blue lightsaber whirled and diverted shots. His eyebrows were creased in deep concentration, and his padawan braid switched shoulders in seconds. Her eyes narrowed at an attempt at ambush, pointing her blaster pistol at an enemy droid. She pulled the trigger, piercing its being and it fell to the ground with a cry. Obi-Wan turned to the Queen in gratitude. She nodded, adjusting her eyes on the whereabouts of young Lesmerie. A silent breath fled at the sight of Jedi Master Qui-Gon shielding Lesmerie and Anakin, green weapon in hand. Her eyes flickered closer before retaliating, her legs carrying her further into the room.
"Ani, Lesmerie,' Qui-Gon called. The two followed his voice, dodging a nearby blast. "Find cover." They hastily nodded, eyes meeting with one another in perplexity. Lesmerie's eyes trailed from Anakin to the room, scavenging for a hideout. Her eyes blurred as she attempted to disassociate from the scene ahead, reeling her attention on what she deemed significant in hand.
"Quick!"Qui-Gon yelled. He swung his lightsaber, deflecting a blast. Queen Amidala searched the room hastily, pulled the trigger, and fired in seconds. "Get to your ships!" she commanded. Anakin's eyes landed on Padme, watching as she directed her Nabooian citizens according to her plan. "Anakin!"
Anakin turned to the prepubescent voice, eyes falling upon Lesmerie. Her hands were held out to him, fingers dry and nails jagged. Her cotton sleeve draped over her arm, gold trims gracing her wrists. Anakin exhaled. He lifted his hand, placing it within hers.
Lesmerie enclosed her right hand over his left, tightening her hold and beginning her stride. She pulled him along as she cruised through the battlefield, loose strands finding sanctuary in harsh winds. Her eyes flinched at each detonation that encircled the two, her eyes retaining a slight ring.
Anakin's eyes widened as he stared ahead, fingers gripping with might over the girl's."Duck," he demanded, pulling the girl behind one of many yellow gas fuel tanks. They crouched behind the mammoth object, peeking over the top to catch glimpses of the escalating scene.
Figures darted around as they fired at each other, and the police force dashed to their ships. To Lesmerie, the scene felt fake, animated. Nothing felt as if it were real. This battle couldn't have been occurring in front of her eyes. Her breath quickened as she observed the collapses of soldiers on opposite sides.
Anakin widened his eyes at the scene of a fallen Nabooian official. He had fallen before them, and his eyes were fogged with confusion. Lesmerie's breath hitched, terror engulfing her soul. His eyes stared above at the ceiling, his eyebrows furrowed, and blood dripping. Her stomach squelched, as did Ani's—his hand instinctively fastening over Lesmerie's.
The two exhaled breathy breaths, emotions of bewilderment poured as liquid over them. Force blew past them, and their eyes averted toward speeding pods. They were the remnants of the Police Force, redirecting their positions as instructed. Fuel residue obscured their lungs of fresh air, and in distraction, the two had missed the zooming presence of a comforting droid, R2-D2.
R2-D2 traveled within the outer boundaries of fire, successfully maneuvering his body to avoid any blasts that occurred before his figure. His light illustrated a cyan color, beeps reminiscent of hurried breaths emitted from his mechanisms.
He trod toward a sleek, elegant yellow pod, positioning himself beneath the vehicle's droid-curated socket, crafted specifically to accommodate astromech droids like himself. Without delay, the activated platform seamlessly extended mechanical arms, securely latching onto R2-D2's robotic frame. The droid beeped in acknowledgment, the platform gently ascending with his frame. Soon enough, the upper portion of his body peeked over the edge of the compartment, turning as he caught sight of Anakin and Lesmerie.
R2 whistled, his tune reaching the ears of the two. Anakin perked up, a smile of relief adorning his face as he stood tall. Lesmerie frowned. Young Ani pulled Lesmerie with his might, running toward matching yellow stairs that led to the ship. Lesmerie's stomach dropped.
She swallowed thickly as she trailed hurriedly behind Anakin, left hand picking up her robe for easy access to the stairs. The droid beeped again, his light an illuminated animation of red and blue. Thuds sounded amid the room as soldiers fell to the ground in defeat and structures cracked due to repetitive demolishment.
Padme gasped, ducking a falling piece of debris. She jogged beside the Jedis, whose weapons sliced through the bodies of the remaining droids, a domino effect falling in line. A minuscule smile graced her features, and she fired her pistol at another droid.
Lesmerie leaned over the railing, yearning to harbor the whereabouts of Queen Amidala. Her heart slowed at the sight of her safety, surprise taking hold of her as Anakin pulled on her hand. Her glance landed on him, seated in the pilot compartment. Her fingers twitched with uneasiness.
"Anakin," she mumbled. He stared at her, and R2 beeped. "Come on, Lesmerie!" he encouraged. She impulsively shook her head. "I don't like ships, Anakin." His eyebrows furrowed, and the droid whistled.
"Come on," Anakin spoke once more, "we can help them!" Her eyelids fell a centimeter, and her hands folded in front of her stomach. "I don't like space, Ani," she whispered, her voice cracking. Her heart accelerated in speed as she stared at the reflective ship, bundles of nerves clawing against her intestines.
Seconds passed, and Lesmerie stood frozen in her spot, eyes darting around the room. Pods still raced toward the open doors, and detonations reverberated through the walls. Her eyes fell upon the droid in the compartment, his light blue and figure staring at her. Her eyebrows creased, and her eyes trailed to Anakin. His face was covered in debris, and his hair and clothes were dirtied, drenched in sweat and dust. She breathed, exhaling a short breath before aiming her eyes at Padme.
Droids pooled in with pointed weapons, firing them at the unsuspecting. Her breathing hitched, and her eyes returned to that of Anakin's blue pupils. Her hands separated from each other in haste, and she ran toward the ship. She could feel the breath being knocked out of her lungs as she held onto the corners of the pod, gripping it as she maneuvered to sit behind Anakin—whose face gleamed with defiance and dedication.
"My guess," Padme's voice began, ringing around the room. Lemerie's peeked over Anakin's shoulder, eyes trying to find her voice. Blast deemed, and metallic clangs gradually echoed; booming behind her voice. "Is that the viceroy's in the throne room," she announced. Anakin sat straight, leaning over the controls. His eyes landed on Padme, the Jedi, and police force, grouped together at the opening of the room.
Droid and fallen soldiers were scattered on the floor. Sparks of electricy flew toward him as the final droid took its last order, falling to the dirtied floor in seconds. Captain Panaka cast it a glance, turining to face Queen Amidala. He nodded, and pointed his pistol down. "Red group! Blue group!" he yelled, his voice lacking fright, "Everybody, this way!"
Anakin instinctively stood, eyes trailing the moving bodies. His eyebrows furrowed at their departure, and his hands gripped the steering wheel. "Hey, wait for us!" Lesmerie furrowed her eyebrows, her forehead creasing. She cast a glance at Anakin before her pupils landed on the fleeting group.
Qui-Gon turned to face the two, walking in unison with the others. His eyes darted between the two, and his mouth opened to spew words of instruction. "Stay where you are. You'll be safe there."
His padwana, Obi-Wan, cast a glance at the two children, nodding slightly before returning his gaze before him. He firmly held his lightsaber in his right hand, his left loosely falling upon his sides. Anakin's face fell, "But I," he began. Qui-Gon interjected, words woven with serenity and commandment. "Stay in that cockpit."
Lesmerie fell into her seat, her back resting against the cold metallic seat. Her eyes fell close. She could feel her mind turning into a void, only a ring reverberating in her mind. She exhale, and Anakin scoffed, watching Qui-Gon and the others. They walked with authority, leaving behind two kids he believed were capable enough to help. What was he for if not to help? Anakin harshly sat onto the seat, and he rolled his eyes.
R2-D2 beeped, the sound burning through Lesmerie's eardrums. Her eyes shot open, and her eyes squinted. Her sight was blurry; the only thing she make out was the blonde hue that sat in front her. She squinted.
Padme treaded beside the Captain, stride full of power. Her pistol was aimed in front of her, and her sleeves were rolled up. The Captain mirrored her image, his appearance being the only distinction between. However, her halted, and those behind reciprocated. The metallic doors slowly drew from each other, and their breaths spiked at what was hidden behind.
A dark figure loomed inches ahead of them, emitting and staring with immorality. A truth was shared among those fighting for Naboo, that the face of catastrophe was staring at them. Obi-Wan's eyes widened at a realization that hit him, and Anakin mirrored him. Before them stood Qui-Gon's attacker from Tattoine.
Lesmerie's vision slowly but surely cleared, and her eyes averted to the still bodies at the doors. She leaned forward, attempting to avoid collision with Anakin. Though luck had failed her. Her hands gripped his shoulders as her eyes focused on the darkned figure beyond the room: the figure adorned in black. She stood in haste, her posture rigid at the knowledge that filled her.
Qui-Gon's hold tightened as the Sith stared him in the eyes, anger boiling behind. The Sith's eyes were orange, constrasting with the red and black skin he harbored. "We'll handle this," he assured. Captain Panaka and Padme nodded. "We'll take the long way," she informed. The police force and her handmaidens shadowed her diversion in route, and the Sith allowed them.
In seconds, the Jedi were the only ones that remained—facing an enemy of the Council. Young Anakin's stomach fell, eying the closing proximity between the three. The Sith took off his velvet hood, shadowing the elimnation of robes performed by The Jedi Master and Padawan. Anakin leaned forward, and R2 beeped. Lesmerie's breathing fell short and her hand dropped from Anakin's shoulder, as she retreated to her seat.
Clatter countered the quiet that carried throughout the room. Droidekas rolled in from Padme's intended direction, and she once more halted. The Droidekas unraveled from their circular formation, blaster cannons summoning protective shields. The trio shot blasters from their mechanical arms, and Padme and her retinue flew into hiding. She and others found sanctuary behind aged pillars, aiming their weapons to disembowel their offencers.
Anakin's fingers fidgeted, his knucles ranging in different degrees of white. "We gotta do something," he mumbled. R2 beeped, and Lesmerie's eyes fell on Padme. Anakin turned, eyes cast on the two behind him, "We gotta do something," he repeated.
Lesmerie's eyes fell onto the black gimmer of Anakin's seat. She harshly breathed through her nose, and Anakin observed. The Sith reached for his lightsaber, and the Jedi reiterated. His minuscule horns obscured the light that spun inside the halls, formulate shadows over his face.
Qui-Gon's eyes fell upon the lightsaber positioned before the Sith, the red lumerance of the bleeding crystal casting a red hue over his robes. Obi-Wan scowled at the sight, disgust prevailing his stoic in his demeanor.
The Sith smirked in delight, summoning a dual saber on the end of his weapon. Both Young Ani and Lesmerie stared in astonsishment. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan drew their lightsabers, activating the fatal glow of blue and green.
The scene heightened in speed, as the next thing the children could see was Obi-Wan's figure and his weapon flipping in the air. The padawan has smoothly and firmly manuevored himself with the assistance of the force. Anakin's lips curled, as Lesmerie's faintly reciprocated.
The two Jedi deflected the attempts of blows, working in harmony to deter his poised stance. Red, blue, and green Lightsabers were struck each other in various directions, veering each strike away from its owners. R2 beeped at the scene, light red in relation to his emotions.
Blasters of all colors flew about, destinations in the minds of their enablers. Captain Panaka crouched behind a yellow tank, reminiscent of the one the two adolescents hid behind amid the initalizing of the fight. The Droidekas blocked each attack, their transparent blue shields transporting back the blasts. In eery synchronization, they sent blasts of identical colors toward Padme and her retinue.
Padme ducked behind the pillar, eyes diverting from the fallen soldier laid behind her feet. She swalloed thickly, eyes shut for a milisecond. R2 beeped at Anakin, whose hands hovered over the controls of the pod. "I'm trying to!" he remarked in fustration, "I don't know where the trigger is!"
Lesmerie peeked from over his shoulder, eyes gazing upon the controls seated before Anakin. She sighed, falling back in her seat as her stupidity fled quicker than it came. She knew nothing of ships or pods. How would she know where the trigger would be?
The starfighter shook as the certain controls lit up in green. Anakin smiled his hands immediately adjusting the seatbelt into place. Lesmerie followed, her body nearly short circuting at the sudden awareness of activating geers. Her fist balled up, nails diging into her palms as attemped to disregard the fear that prodded at her mind. R2 beeped, head turning in all directions of the room.
Lesmerie's hands instinctively clasped together as the sudden rise of the vehicle, and she shut her eyes close. Anakin stared in excitmented, juxtapositioning the emotions of Young Lesmerie. The pod steadily moved forward, toward the momentous opening to the outside of Naboo. R2 beeped, and Anakin laughed. "Oops, wrong one." Lesmerie's eye shot open, landing onto Anakin's beaming figure. "Maybe it's this one."
She slammed her head onto the seat, her right hand finding warmth on her forehead. The air hummed with a near electric buzz, as the cockpit canopy loomed overhead the two. Lesmerie's attention found itself redirected at the clear dome that moved with precision and accuracy, slowly clicking into its place overhead the two.
The air filled with tension as the cockpit's small abundace of space became noticeale to Lesmerie. She could feel the vibrations of the ship beaneath her, as did Young Anakin before her. For a fleeting moment, she felt Anakin's presence beyond physicality. And as it arrived, it quickly fled. Her eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty.
The cockpit hummed crooned with the sound of the activating energy shield system, a yellow tints falling and clothing over them. Lesmerie's hands pressed lightly against the canopy, its transparency allowing her to view the ceiling up ahead. Ani's hands rested upon the controls, the surface cold to touch. His steady heartbeat synchronized with the pulsing of the ship's engines. Lesmerie found herself almost forgetting everything; her wherabouts, the battle beyond, and the tragic reality she knew was collasping. Almost.
Anakin's smile widened as his eyes darted over the controls, his sentence finding completion, "Nope. Wait. Here it is." His hands enclosed over the blaster mechanism, his thumb pressing down onto the vibrant red button curated to the center. The Starfighter directed a blow, hitting a Droidekas as the ship launched into automatic mode; falling short to Anakin's mind.
Lesmerie's eyes planted themselves on the ground behind them, over the figures that seemed distant to reach. The targeted Droidekas fell to the floor, mechanisms shutting down to signify its death. A brief sigh escaped Padme before she returned at firing.
"Yeah!" Anakin shouted. The corner of Lesmerie's lips curled, but she instinctively rid her face of any emotions, staring ahead. Anakin harshly shifted the blaster controller to the left, sending another fatal blow toward a droid. Captain Panaka's face contorted into confusion, and his hesitantly gazed up at the hovered Starfighter. His eyes widened at the sight of Anakin, and Padme's attention followed that of the Captain. Her eyes reciprocated in shock.
The ship vacilliated into departing position, but not before Ani sendt another blast toward an Naboo's enemy. He laughed in contentment, R-D2 celebrated with a whistling tone. Lesmerie blinked. A faint voice penetrated the dome, and the young girl's interest fell upon her Queen. From where she was seated, she took notice of the fleeing group that took opportunity to swiftly take the intended route.
Worry found Anakin as he finally noted the automatic motion of the ship. His hands pressed on buttons, and his brain jumbled into emotions. R2 beeped, and Anakin lost his composure. "It's on automatic pilot!" he shouted, voice shaky.
A gasp escaped Lesmerie as a sudden mechanical whir filled the air as the ship jolted forward, the repulsorlifts engaging with a soft hum. The sleek yellow fighter hovered weightlessly above the hangar floor, its underbelly illuminated by the flashing red and blue emergency lights that bathed the transport wing in an eerie glow. Outside the transparisteel canopy, the hangar bay stretched vast before them—an open maw leading directly into the chaos of the battle raging beyond.
Lesmerié gripped the sides of her seat, bracing herself as the thrusters ignited. The ship lurched forward, the motion sudden but smooth, as if the Starfighter itself had come alive. Anakin's breath hitched, his fingers instinctively twitching toward the controls.
The yellow-tinted canopy reflected the distant explosions flickering beyond the hangar shield, casting their golden glow against the polished surface of the Starfighter. Lesmerié could see the silhouettes of The Jedi and Sith, battling out in determination and defiance.
Then, the ship surged forward. The Naboo Starfighter shot ahead with a sudden burst of acceleration, the inertial dampeners barely compensating for the force pressing against their chests. The hangar walls blurred into streaks of metal and light as the ship followed its pre-programmed course, racing down the long launch tunnel toward the battlefield beyond.
The moment they neared the threshold, the hangar shield parted, dissolving into a shimmering haze as the ship broke through. "Try to overide it!" Anakin shouted, and Lesmerié's cried. The astromech droid beeped repeatedly, as Anakin took a black and weighted helmet from it hanger. He placed it over his head, instansteosly handing one to Lesmerié. She grabbed it with haste, pulling it over her head and situating it. Their eyes widened before them, the darkness of space swallowing them whole.
Stars stretched across the void, distant and indifferent to the war tearing through Naboo's orbit. The battle raged in full force, Republic and Trade Federation fighters weaving through the carnage, emerald and crimson blaster bolts crisscrossing the black sky. Fires erupted from damaged ships, sending spirals of debris floating in the weightless abyss. Explosions bloomed like dying stars, illuminating the skeletal remains of shattered fighters as the war unfolded in the vast nothingness around them.
Lesmerié sucked in a sharp breath as she took it all in—the sheer violence of it, the madness of war unraveling in the heavens above her home. The autopilot remained steady, the ship adjusting its course, angling toward the looming Trade Federation Control Ship in the distance. The colossal vessel hovered like a metal titan, it's flat and circular frame casting a menacing shadow over the battle.
"Look! There it is!" Anakin yelled. Lesmerie rolled her head side to side, her stomach churning and acidity building. Her right hand clamped over her mouth, and her left rested over her stomach as she screwed her eyes shut. She felt as the Starfighter continued its course, the vibrations accelerating as it seemingly led them straight to the fire. Anakin raised his eyebrows, pointing toward the vessel. "That's where the autopilot is taking us!"
Starfighters flew to The Trade Federation's Control Ship in alignment, swerving the circular structure as blasts were fired. Anakin held his breath as the ship shortened its proximity to the Nabooian battle ships, falling into the arrangement. Lesmerie felt a jolt in the vehicle, confusion overtaking her senses as she peeked open her eyes--staring ahead.
Fire emitted, and a scream fell from the girl. Anakin flinched, swallowing thickly as his eyebrows twitched in amusement. The autopilot flew past the demolished ship, slicing them through the active battlefield of red and green flashes. Lesmerie tightly shut her eyes once more, her mouth whispering a plea. "Please, don't let me die."
Anakin's face lit up with excitement, his energy practically radiating through the confined cockpit. "This is tense!" he exclaimed, gripping the controls tighter as the battle raged around them.
Enemy ships streaked past in flashes of silver and green, unleashing bursts of laser fire at the Nabooian starfighters. The bolts ricocheted off the shimmering domes of their ships, but the constant barrage was overwhelming. Anakin's exhilaration turned into sudden alarm as a squadron of droid fighters darted overhead, weaving through the chaos like predators hunting their prey.
"Whoa!" he yelped, instinctively ducking despite the protective canopy. His gaze darted to R2-D2, nestled snugly in his compartment behind the cockpit. "R2, get us off this autopilot! It's gonna get us all killed!"
The astromech droid beeped frantically, his dome swiveling as he interfaced with the ship's controls. The starfighter lurched forward unexpectedly, surging ahead at an alarming speed.
Lesmerié let out a sharp gasp as she felt the acceleration pull at her, her stomach twisting violently. A sickly nausea crept up her throat, her motion sickness aggravated by the unpredictable swerves and jolts. She clamped a hand over her stomach, squeezing her eyes shut as the ship vibrated beneath them.
R2 beeped and whistled, his circuits whirring as he overrode the autopilot. The control panel flickered, and the navigation lights shifted from a dull red to a vibrant cyan blue.
"You did it, R2!" Anakin cheered. Relief flooded his expression, quickly replaced by determination as he adjusted his grip on the control yoke. His eyes burned with focus. "Okay, let's go left!"
Without hesitation, Anakin yanked the controls, sending the ship veering sharply left. The force of the maneuver pressed Lesmerié against the seat, and she struggled to keep her breathing steady.
An explosion detonated just off their right side. The force of the blast sent a shockwave through the ship, rattling the controls violently. Anakin's hands tightened instinctively as the ship shuddered, nearly throwing them off trajectory. The blinding light from the explosion forced him to divert his gaze for a split second—a moment too long.
The ship lurched, dipping dangerously low before Anakin forcefully corrected it, his heart pounding in his ears. He exhaled sharply, regaining control as they skimmed along the outer-rims of the Trade Federation's control center. The massive structure loomed ahead, its skeletal architecture flashing past in hurried glimpses.
A frantic series of beeps from R2-D2 drew his attention. Lesmerié's eyes fluttered open, her dizziness momentarily forgotten. "Go back!" she yelled.Anakin's brow furrowed. "Go back?" he echoed, his hands still maneuvering the controls.
R2 let out a confirming whistle, and a set of glowing text scrolled across one of the screens. Anakin glanced down, skimming the message. Lesmerié leaned in slightly, her proximity unnoticed in the chaos. "Qui-Gon told me to stay in this cockpit, so that's what I'm gonna do." Lesmerié nearly scoffed. Of all the reasoning Anakin could have come up with, that was his conclusion?
A sudden warning beep blared, and before she could react, the ship jerked left to narrowly avoid another Nabooian fighter. The violent jolt sent her slamming into the side of the cockpit, a sharp cry escaping her lips.
Pain lanced through her side like fire. "Sorry!" Anakin winced, his eyes flickering toward her. Lesmerié groaned, her body curled slightly in discomfort. "It's okay," she muttered, forcing herself upright, though her arms instinctively folded over her torso in a protective grip.
Anakin refocused, leading the ship into a sharp dive, aligning himself with the three other Nabooian starfighters. They circled the colossal Federation rings, the enemy forces tightening their formation in response.
His lips quirked upward, confidence gleaming in his eyes. "I'll try spinning. That's a good trick." Lesmerié barely registered his words, still recovering from the earlier impact. R2 beeped frantically in retaliation, flashing a warning message across the screen.
Anakin didn't look. The controls jerked beneath his hands, and he instinctively clenched them tighter. The ship suddenly dipped, losing altitude by mere inches before he forced it back up. His muscles tensed as he twisted the yoke, sending them into a rapid spiral.
Lesmerié's scream joined his own as the ship spun wildly, her stomach lurching in protest. The world outside became a blur of flashing lights and metal.
Blaster fire erupted around them, streaking past in chaotic bursts. The deafening noise was dampened by the protective canopy, but the pressure of battle pressed in from all sides. R2's alarmed beeping rang through the cockpit.
"I know we're in trouble!" Anakin shouted, his fingers working desperately over the controls. Lesmerié would have responded with a sarcastic remark, but she was too busy trying not to vomit. She clamped a hand over her mouth, willing herself to hold it together. "Just hang on!" Anakin yelled.
A sudden jolt wrenched the ship sideways. They were hit. Lesmerié felt the impact rattle through her bones. The ship lurched uncontrollably, spiraling into a dangerous freefall. Anakin's shout of alarm blended with R2's frantic whistles.
"We're hit, R2!" he called out, his voice teetering between panic and forced determination. The ship continued its chaotic descent, spinning faster and faster. Lesmerié's hands clawed at the seat, her body pressed into it from the overwhelming force.
They barreled toward the Federation Control Ship's docking bay, spiraling uncontrollably through enemy territory. Lesmerié barely registered the approaching massive battle droid carriers, their metallic hulls gleaming in the glow of laser fire.
Anakin and Lesmerié screamed as the ship careened toward an incoming Federation starfighter, twice their size and painted in stark contrast to their own. The hangar was a flurry of movement—rows of battle droids assembling in formation, transport ships preparing to depart, and mechanical crews scrambling to repair damaged vessels.
Then—alarms blared. Blaster turrets swiveled, locking onto the rogue ship as it skidded wildly into the hangar. Red laser fire erupted toward them, and Anakin yanked the controls hard, just barely missing a cluster of docked ships. Sparks burst in their wake as stray shots glanced off the walls, the ship jerking violently under the assault.
"There has to be a weak spot!" Lesmerié shouted over the chaos, her voice raw from exertion. Anakin's jaw was clenched tight, his hands gripping the controls with a vice-like intensity. "I'm trying to stop!" he bellowed, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he fought to steady the ship. Lesmerié could feel the desperation in his every word, the ship groaning beneath the pressure of their uncontrollable descent.
"I'm trying to stop!" Anakin shouted again, his voice strained, cracking under the weight of the battle.
Lesmerié exhaled sharply, her chest tightening as an unease, deep and unshakable, seeped into her bones. Her stomach lurched as the ship swerved violently, throwing her body against the restraint. Her eyes fixed ahead, but something—something intangible—felt wrong. A coldness spread through her limbs, as if the air had been sucked from the cockpit, leaving only a creeping emptiness behind.
Her pulse hammered in her ears, drowning out the blaring alarms and the incessant barrage of blaster fire. But despite the surrounding chaos, the unease in her chest deepened. She gripped the backrest of Anakin's chair so tightly her fingers burned. Her breath hitched, her heart racing in rhythm with the rapid thrum of the ship. It felt as if something inside her had snapped—a thread had been torn, frayed, and it left her feeling hollow, unmoored.
Her eyelids fluttered closed, the world around her slowing, the noise fading into a muted hum. She felt her head lean to the side, her braid hanging suspended in midair, but she barely registered it. There was no time, no space for it. She was lost in the feeling of something missing, slipping from her grasp.
"Lesmerié!" Anakin's voice sliced through the haze, pulling her from the quiet spiral that was overtaking her. His words snapped her back to reality just as the ship lurched hard in front. She was thrown forward, a sharp gasp tearing from her throat. She heard Anakin groan from the impact as the world erupted back into chaos—the wailing alarms, the flashing lights, the battle surrounding them—but the hollow feeling, that emptiness, lingered.
It hadn't gone away. It had only deepened. The ship's hull scraped violently against the metallic floors, a harsh, shuddering crash that sent a jolt through both occupants. It came to an abrupt stop, engines sputtering and powering down with a final, rattling breath.
"Oh, no," Anakin murmured under his breath, his wide eyes darting left and right, searching for some kind of escape. His gaze locked onto the encroaching enemy droids, who had already begun to pool around the ship with unsettling precision.
R2 emitted a series of anxious beeps from his compartment. "R2, can you override this and give us a booster?!" Anakin shouted, his voice tinged with panic as he frantically scanned their surroundings. The droids were getting closer—too close.
R2 beeped in reply, though his mechanical chirps did little to calm the rising dread in the cockpit. Lesmerié's gaze fixed on the advancing droids, her body stiffening with a wave of hazy fear. The metallic clank of their footsteps filled the silence, each one a grim reminder of how trapped they truly were.
"How long will it take to override the power?!" she demanded, her voice sharper than she intended, laced with a quiet desperation. Her eyes flicked to Anakin, but his face held only uncertainty.
"I don't know," he admitted, turning to meet her gaze, his jaw clenched in determination. "But hopefully, not long." R2-D2 whistled and beeped, the small droid working furiously at the control system. His lights blinked wildly—cyan and red, a flashing symphony of desperation and focus. Anakin held his breath, every muscle tensed as he stared out at the approaching droids, his pulse hammering in his throat.
"Come on, R2," he whispered under his breath, his voice barely a prayer. "Come on." Lesmerié's eyes flicked from the droid to Anakin, her own heart echoing the rising fear in his. She could feel the pressure mounting, the room seeming to shrink with every passing second. She turned her gaze back to the control panel, hands tightening around the armrests, her knuckles pale with tension.
Anakin's eyes followed her movements, his gaze falling to the depressed buttons on the control panel. His breath was shallow, the silence between them deafening. Suddenly, without warning, a brilliant flash of yellow exploded from the console, nearly blinding them both. They both squinted, hands raised instinctively to shield their eyes from the intense burst of light.
"We've got power!" Anakin exclaimed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and relief. R2 beeped a triumphant series of sounds in response, his lights flashing in rapid, triumphant succession. Lesmerié let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight in her chest finally begin to ease. But even as the immediate danger seemed to have passed, the unease within her remained, simmering beneath the surface like a shadow that refused to leave.
"Thank you, R2," Anakin whispered, still gripping the controls, his gaze unwavering from the droids now retreating from their ship. Lesmerié exhaled slowly, allowing herself a brief moment of relief before the reality of their situation pressed in once again. "Thank you," she muttered.
The shield powered up with a low hum, enveloping the ship in a shimmering protective barrier just as it began to hover off the ground. Almost immediately, enemy droids began to fire, their blaster bolts searing the air with deadly intent.
"Take this!" Anakin called out, his voice filled with exhilaration, his smirk growing wider as he maneuvered the controls. Lesmerié's gaze followed the droids as one of them crumpled to the floor, its body lifeless and weapon clattering noisily against the cold metal.
Anakin's hands worked the controls with practiced precision, each blast of fire forcing him to reposition the ship. Lesmerié, her senses sharp, barely felt the vibrations now. A surge of adrenaline coursed through her bloodstream, sharpening her focus. The droids fell one by one, their bodies lifeless and their weapons skittering across the reverberating floors like discarded toys.
"And this!" Anakin called, a gleam of excitement flashing in his eyes. He yanked back on the control stick, pressing the red button with all his strength. A series of harsh blasts erupted from the ship's cannons, cutting down droids two by two. The ship lurched, rattling violently as it fought to stay steady. The sudden motion sent both Anakin and Lesmerié stumbling.
"Whoa!" they both yelped in unison. Anakin quickly regained his balance, but Lesmerié had to steady herself, her hands gripping the back of his seat. Her breath was quick, eyes darting around the chaotic battlefield around them.
"Anakin!" Lesmerié called urgently, her voice rising above the chaos. Anakin hummed a distracted "Yes" as his hands returned to the controls, firing off another round of blasts. Lesmerié's sharp eyes scanned the room, locking onto a structure near the back.
"Do you see that metal structure?" she pointed ahead, her finger aiming toward a droid standing just behind the metallic object. "Right behind that droid?" Anakin's eyes followed the trajectory of her finger, and without a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Blast it!" Lesmerié urged, her face a picture of resolve.
"Got it!" Anakin flashed her a grin, his usual cocky smile never faltering. He pulled back the control stick and redirected the ship with an expert hand. The ship responded swiftly, turning toward the target, and in a flash, he pressed the button with unyielding force.
A burst of bright light—blue, almost electric in its intensity—shot from the ship's blasters, its beam slicing through the air. The ship lurched once more, but Lesmerié was already holding tightly to the back of Anakin's seat, her fingers digging into the upholstery.
Anakin's head jerked to the side, eyes wide with concentration, but they all watched in breathless anticipation. The blast hit its target—right at the heart of the metal structure. Time seemed to slow as the impact detonated.
In an instant, a fiery explosion erupted from the reactor, its flames licking the air as smoke billowed out in all directions. The shockwave hit them hard, rattling the ship to its core. Lesmerié's stomach twisted with the force of the blast, but she didn't look away. "Let's get outta here!" Anakin shouted, his hands tightening around the controls as the ship rattled beneath him. R2 beeped urgently in response.
Lesmerié nodded slowly, her eyes locked onto the growing explosion in the distance. Her gaze sharpened, a strange tension pulling at her chest. For a fleeting moment, the explosion's sound warped—becoming a crackling hiss, the hum of electricity frying circuits. Her eyes flickered as her brow furrowed in confusion, but just as quickly, the sound returned to normal, as if nothing had changed. She blinked, momentarily shaken, but the sensation dissipated as Anakin surged the ship forward, his focus unbroken.
"Watch out!" she cried, eyes darting toward two droids standing directly in their path. Anakin didn't hesitate. With a grin plastered on his face, he gunned the ship forward, expertly dodging through the closing doors and plowing straight through the oncoming threat.
The ship jolted violently as the shockwave of the explosion hit, and Lesmerié bit down hard on her jaw to steady herself. She braced against the sudden surge of movement, the force of it sending a strange ripple through her. Behind them, the chain reaction of explosions unfolded in a devastating cascade, the fireball blooming in their wake.
Anakin, undeterred, laughed with exhilaration. "Whoo!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the cockpit, while R2 beeped in a cheerful series of notes, matching Anakin's excitement. Lesmerié forced a laugh, though her pulse quickened in response.
.
Lesmerié stood beside Sabé, her arms folded casually against the vibrant yellow folds of her royal robe. Her hair was braided in one long plait, cascading flat against her back. She stood in alignment with the handmaidens and Padmé's royal retinue, all waiting in solemn silence for the arrival of Chancellor Palpatine.
Her mind grazed against the memories of the fallen Jedi Master, whose presence had been ripped amid the battle above. Her eyes stung, yet she closed them in retaliation. For a reason unknown, it wasn't a shock: the news of his death. Though, his death had found itself nursing a mourning pull in the soul of the girl. Her gaze drifted toward the back of Anakin's head, her eyes tracing the golden, sun-kissed strands of his hair that ruffled gently in the wind.
A low hum reverberated through the air, drawing her eyes upward. A regal ship, draped in muted shades of red, yellow, and white, descended gracefully from the sky. The hatch opened, and out stepped the man they had all been waiting for—Chancellor Palpatine. His gray hair shimmered in the sunlight as he moved, his steps deliberate and full of authority. Lesmerié quickly averted her gaze, letting her attention shift to Padmé. The Queen stood in elegant black velvet robes, her hair swept into an intricate updo resembling a crescent moon, a gold and maroon headpiece nestled in the center of her scalp. Her robes, detailed with gold embroidery, were a perfect fit for a queen—her posture straight and unwavering.
"Now, Viceroy," Padmé's voice rang out, calm yet laced with royal command. "You're going to have to explain this to the Senate and explain all this," she mocked, masking her words with royal grandeur. Captain Panaka nodded, stepping forward. "I think you can kiss your trade franchise goodbye," he added, gesturing with his head for them to follow.
Anakin and Obi-Wan trailed behind the Federation delegates and Captain Panaka, a few of the police force following at a distance. Lesmerié's gaze lingered on Anakin, a soft breath escaping her lips as her fingers fidgeted absentmindedly. As if on cue, he turned to meet her eyes, offering a soft smile. Her hands grew clammy under his gaze, but she returned the smile, the air between them charged with an unspoken connection. Anakin's grin widened, but he quickly turned as Obi-Wan gave him a gentle nudge.
The sound of synchronized footsteps echoed through the chamber, and Padmé exhaled softly, her eyes falling on Chancellor Palpatine and his retinue. The Chancellor wore a smile of quiet triumph, his hand swinging with each purposeful stride. His gray hair caught the sunlight, casting a shadow over his thoughtful expression.
His security detail was outfitted in metallic armor that protected their heads, their hair sticking out in strange shapes. They wore muted blue robes that swirled around their ankles as they moved in unison. Palpatine reached the gathering, stopping just in front of Anakin and Obi-Wan. Lesmerié's gaze shifted to him, her warm smile fading into nothingness. She masked any trace of emotion as she composed herself.
Anakin and Obi-Wan bowed, and Palpatine gave a brief but dignified nod. "We are indebted to you for your bravery, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said, his voice heavy with gratitude. Obi-Wan bowed his head in acknowledgment. The Chancellor turned to Anakin, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "And you, young Skywalker," he added, his smile widening ever so slightly. His gaze flickered briefly to Padmé's retinue. "We will watch your career with great interest."
He gave Anakin a small pat on the shoulder before striding past them to stand before the Queen of Naboo. Anakin and Obi-Wan stood, bowing once more to the remaining members of the Senate before turning to observe the interaction between the Queen and Chancellor.
Padmé smiled with regal grace, offering her congratulations. "Congratulations on your election, Chancellor," she said warmly, her voice steady and composed. Lesmerié's eyes flickered for a moment, her fingers twitching slightly as if on instinct. The Chancellor's smile widened, and he bowed his head to Padmé. "Your boldness has saved our people, Your Majesty," he said, his tone dripping with flattery. "It's you who should be congratulated."
Lesmerié's gaze dropped to the floor, her mind focused on the words being exchanged. "Together, we shall bring peace and prosperity to the Republic," the Chancelor continued said, his voice firm and woven with measured hope. Anakin's eyes lingered on her, a soft smile playing on his lips. But as his gaze shifted, his eyes found Lesmerié's once more, her own gaze fixed firmly to the ground.
The ceremony continued with muted conversation, the chatter of diplomats and officials blending into the distance. But as the sun began its descent, the air in the courtyard grew still, the warmth of the midday light fading into the cool shadow of evening. The bright colors of celebration, once vivid against the royal backdrop, now seemed to dissolve into the somberness of the approaching night.
Young Lesmerié stood solemnly on Obi-Wan's right, positioned just behind the towering gray walls of the Jedi Temple. The fabric of Obi-Wan's mahogany robe cast long shadows across his face, obscuring his features beneath the hood. On Obi-Wan's other side, Anakin stood motionless, his gaze fixed ahead, his face clouded in somber contemplation. The flames of the pyre blazed brightly in front of them, casting flickering lights that danced across the faces of the gathered Nabooians and Jedi. The air was thick with the gravity of the ritual as Qui-Gon Jinn's body was consumed by fire—a final farewell, a tribute to a life well-lived, to a Jedi who had given all until his last breath.
Lesmerié huddled deeper into her black and purple ombré robe, her hood pulled low, casting a veil of shadow over her features, her eyes hidden behind the edge. The warmth of the fire did nothing to soothe the chill running through her. Padmé had changed her attire, now draped in a traditional outfit reminiscent of the Tuskens. She stood beside Chancellor Palpatine, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on her shoulders. Beside the Chancellor, Jar Jar Binks, his face etched with grief, whimpered softly, his hands pressed together in silent prayer. R2-D2, ever loyal, emitted a series of mournful, drawn-out beeps, mirroring the sadness in the air.
Anakin swallowed thickly, his voice barely a whisper. "What will happen to me now?" His eyes remained locked on the fire, his gaze distant as if seeking answers in the flickering flames. Obi-Wan, his expression unreadable, turned to face the young Jedi-in-training. Lesmerié's gaze lifted to meet Obi-Wan's, but her head remained bowed in silent respect.
"The Council has granted me permission to train you," Obi-Wan answered, his voice soft, laced with an unspoken weight. Lesmerié's eyes flickered to Obi-Wan, then back to Anakin, her heart aching at the raw vulnerability in his gaze. "You will be a Jedi," Obi-Wan continued, his tone steady, firm. "I promise."
Anakin lifted his head, his expression briefly flickering with a faint smile before it was overtaken by a shadow of sorrow. His eyes fell again, not on the flames, but on something only he could see. The loss of Qui-Gon was profound, but it was a deeper, more personal ache—the thought of his mother, stranded on the barren desert planet of Tatooine, gnawed at his soul. Lesmerié inhaled sharply, her eyes drawn to his trembling hands. Without thinking, her hand reached out, hovering just over his, but before it could make contact, she pulled back, retreating into herself. Her gaze turned back to the fire, her eyes burning with unshed tears.
Her heart constricted, a knot of unease forming in her chest. The flames seemed to pulse, its light blurring into a haze of shared sorrow. She quickly shifted her focus to her clenched fists, her knuckles white with tension, the coolness of the air offering no relief. Obi-Wan's eyes flickered to her, his brow furrowed in thought, as if the turmoil within her was something he couldn't quite read.
He exhaled, a heavy sigh that carried the weight of unspoken worries. His voice was barely audible, but Lesmerié heard it clearly. "Lesmerié," he whispered, his gaze penetrating. She slowly lifted her eyes to meet his, a flicker of apprehension crossing her features.
"Your presence will be required by the Jedi Council."
The words hung in the air like an uninvited storm, sending a ripple through the quiet procession. Padmé's brow furrowed at the unexpected pronouncement, her lips pressing into a thin line. Chancellor Palpatine's eyes narrowed, his eyebrows rising just slightly as he took in the moment. His head inclined forward, faint amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.