Fic: fear did not stop me from changing
aka the Anakin becomes Plo Koon's Padawan fic no one asked for
“Fear,” Master Plo Koon begins, and his voice is low and harsh through his rebreather but warm, “is not something that just goes away if you try to ignore it, have you ever noticed that?”
Anakin hesitates, because he has lived his whole life denying fear. ‘The slavers always knew they were afraid. What stands out is telling them you’re not,’ his mother had explained to him, when he was young enough to take every word from her mouth as gospel.
He hasn’t been that naive child for years now. Slaves learned to grow up fast or died, and Anakin has always been a quick learner.
(“Are you afraid?” the slaver asks.
“No,” the Torguta states and meets the slaver’s eyes boldly.
Anakin has never seen someone spit at a slaver before. He lifts his head up for a better look, but his mother pushes his head down before he can catch more than a glimpse of the anger that flashes across the slaver’s face.
His eyes are fixed on the ground when the Torguta screams.)
He can’t tell what Master Plo Koon wants from him. What’s the right answer to his question? There’s always a right answer, and Anakin has already answered Master Yoda’s question wrongly earlier. He’d never met someone who was able to tell when he lied.
He’s already flirting with the edge of leaving Master Plo Koon unanswered for too long, so Anakin nods hurriedly.
Something flashes through Master Plo Koon - an emotion too fast for him to decipher before it’s gone - but Master Plo Koon continues, “Fear is not a bad thing. It helps us identify and avoid threats to our safety. But when we allow fear to grow too much, we run into the edges of letting it consume us. If we don’t acknowledge to ourselves that we fear, we cannot identify it, and we run the risk of letting it take us over and ruling our actions. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” Anakin says quickly. He needs to show that he can learn fast, that he’s a good investment, or they might not keep him. He’s heard enough of Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s conversations on the trip to Coruscant to understand that, at least. Slavers always wanted younger slaves, because older ones were harder to train.
Master Plo Koon asks, “Are you afraid, Anakin? I would like it if you were honest with us, but if you don’t feel safe enough, that is perfectly fine. I want you to know that you will not be harmed here.”
And he feels warm and safe but Anakin - Anakin doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be honest or lie and tell them what they want to hear. Like the other slave children, he’s grown up with Jedi as the heroes of all the stories - had dreamed of them coming to Tatooine with their lightsabers, setting everyone free. They’d be mad if he was afraid, wouldn’t they? After all the effort it took to set him free?
He doesn’t want them to be mad at him.
(“Be brave, Anakin,” his mother says, and the warmth of her hand on his face lingers even when he can no longer see her.”)
Is it bravery to take a leap of faith with the truth or does bravery mean he shouldn’t be afraid? Anakin wishes for his mother here - wishes she was here to tell him what to do. He had always felt safest with her.
There’s a sudden warmth - like the spirit of his mother hugging him. Trust, the Force says and promises not to lead him astray.
Joy - pride - affection bursts from Master Plo Koon, and Anakin has to catch himself before he can lean into the warmth too obviously.
“Thank you for your honesty,” Master Plo Koon says solemnly, an impression of a smile on his features. “That was very brave of you. I think that’s enough for today, don’t you? Are you comfortable waiting outside with Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi while we wrap things up here or would you rather stay?”
Anakin glances surreptitiously at the other members of the Council from the corner of his eyes, and while he likes Master Plo Koon’s warmth, he knows Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan better, and Padme might even be there, but-
“There are no wrong answers,” Master Plo Koon says.
“I’d like to wait outside,” Anakin replies after a second, then belatedly adds, “please.”
“All right,” Master Plo Koon says, and with a nod to the doors, they slide open.
Anakin shrugs off the robes around his shoulders - trying to bundle them up so they don’t drape on the ground any more than they already have. His mother is good at this part - she folds clothes until they’re all flat and crisp, not a single wrinkle on them. Anakin isn’t as good, but he’s willing to try.
Master Plo Koon reaches out a hand and tugs the robes back around his shoulders. When Anakin looks up at him with wide eyes, there’s a smile in his voice as he says, “Why don’t you keep it? Coruscant can be cold, especially in the evening. We’ll see about getting you some better fitting clothes later on, but I think you’ll be able to grow into this one, don’t you?”
“I–” Anakin clutches at the robes tighter. As a slave, he doesn’t have many personal items - had boarded the ship with nothing but a backpack full of items scavenged from the junk yards and other bits Shmi figured wouldn’t be noticed missing. This is the nicest robe he’s ever worn - even if it is much too large. “Thank you,” he replies belatedly, because his mother didn’t raise a cretin. Then, before Master Plo Koon can say anything else, he bows hurriedly to him and the rest of the Council members. “I’m going to go wait outside now.”
And it may be a little rude, but he hurries out of the room without waiting for a dismissal. Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are waiting outside when he exits. The Padawan raises a brow in amusement at his no-doubt red face, but it is Master Qui-Gon who asks, “Anakin? What’s wrong?”
“Jedi are weird,” Anakin grumbles, but his hands around the robes are gentle, and he is no longer cold.
