Miyu-chan
.::f l o w e r g i r l::.
- 5,955
- Posts
- 21
- Years
- Age 36
- Seen Apr 23, 2014
Title: Agonizing Decision
Author: musingmiyu
Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, and other minor characters
Timeframe: After the Battle of Coruscant
Summary: Threats are made; jobs are taken.
Notes: I did this for a fanfiction challenge at a SW forum. It was a random drawing to pair up Anakin Skywalker with a queer job choice.
Disclamer: I do not own Star Wars. GL does.
Author's Notes: This is actually my first ever Star Wars fanfiction, and it is un-betaed. So forgive me if they're out of character, or if there are grammar mistakes. But I hope that you'll enjoy it. :) This is a one-shot, but I might write more about what excatly happens during Anakin's job. ;)
crèche master: Takes care of younglings in the Jedi temple; nursury caretaker.
Agonizing Decision
A crash.
A shriek.
The cry of, "my favorite vase!" followed shortly of the sound of precious porcelain breaking into several thousand pieces.
He heard a groan, a moan, and the shout of "Anakin!"
Anakin sighed. What was it that he to do to get a few seconds of peace in his own household? "What?" he called, folding the pages of his weekly debrief report together. "No missions this week…" he mumbled, already envisioning a week filled with him and Padmé… though her budging belly could prove to be a problem from some of his… visions.
"Did you see my feather boa?" asked Padmé; "I need it for the meeting at the senate…" she trailed off, as Anakin heard a sound that slightly resembled an avalanche.
Hearing this, Anakin snapped out of his daydream, ignited his lightsaber and rushed into his wife's room, searching for danger… only to find Padmé knocked over and half buried by the contents of her closet.
He rushed over and pulled her up, asking anxiously, "Are you okay? Is the baby…"
She brushed him off, saying, "I'm fine, Ani. Just remind me to clean out my closet sometime this week… So, have you seen my feather boa?"
Anakin took the boa, which was ingeniously on a hook behind the door, and hooked it around his wife, drawing her closer to him. Leaning down slightly to whisper in her ear, he said softly, "Padmé, I have good news…"
Padmé looked up into her husband's azure eyes, asking playfully as she tugged away the boa from his grip, "Oh? And what good news is that?"
Anakin took a deep breath and stated breathlessly, "I'm free this week, Padmé… No politics, no plotting, no war… just for this week."
Padmé adoringly embraced him, "That's wonderful! Let me see your report…" she snatched the flimsiplast away from Anakin's loose grip. Her expression quickly turned from joyous to crestfallen in a matter of a few seconds. "…oh Ani, no… it seems that you were mistaken," she said dejectedly. "It says that you are expected to serve the community of Coruscant for a week."
Padmé handed the flimsiplast back to him, "Here, you can look for yourself."
Anakin took the wretched material back into his hands. "They're surprisingly generous this time…" he commented dryly, "they've provided me with several options. There's an intern realtor, a bodyguard, an intern crèche master for the Jedi temple…"
He paused, with a grimace on his face. Who in their right mind would want to do that? Being surrounded by several dozen force-sensitive youngling infants and toddlers... and orbiting around their every need, 24/7…
Padmé's voice cut into his musings, "That's great Ani, you can take that job!"
Anakin looked down to see his wife's positively beaming face. "Are you kidding me?" he asked incredulously, furrowing his eyebrows. "Are you aware of the dangers in there? Of being surrounded by crying force-sensitive babies, of whom I might add, unconsciously use the force to enhance their cries? Or being held accountable for their welfare? Orbiting myself to suit every one of their needs? And changing diapers?!" he paused in his tirade, to notice that Padmé's complexion took on a dangerous shade of red.
Anakin clearly recognized it as one of the warning signs of one of Padmé's harangues. Even after the three years they were together, he still couldn't fathom how someone so tiny like his wife could make herself so large and menacing, while managing to boom out words faster than point five past lightspeed.
'Oh force, I'd rather be stuck in the nest of gundarks with Obi-wan again…' he thought pleadingly, as he mentally prepared himself for the outburst. Instead, he looked down to find round tears welling up in Padmé's nutmeg colored eyes.
"Anakin Skywalker," Padmé enunciated every six syllables of his name slowly, clearly, and dangerously. "I'm pregnant." She paused here, clearly expecting some sort of response from Anakin.
"I know that, Padmé." he replied, concern showing in his eyes. "You told me just yesterday. And this baby is a blessing, the best thing that has ever happened to me." He finished, trying to reassure his wife. Secretly, he wondered if the stress of the pregnancy was getting to her head. Which was strange, because according to the 'educational' pamphlets they received at the Jedi temple, the menstrual cycle of women was supposed to pause while they were harboring a child. Anakin clandestinely thanked the Force for such blessings. He could never forget the time he came back home from a long mission, only to find an angry Padmé, peanuts, and a curiously decorated ceiling.
"Then, you do know that in four months, you'll be a father," Padmé said calmly, then she promptly burst into tears and threw herself at a bewildered Anakin, pounding on his chest. "And you'll have to do the diapers," pound, "all the feeding," pound, "and you do realize that you'll have to care for the child… and love him." She paused momentarily to gaze up into her husband's eyes, and then proceeded with the pounding.
"And Force help me, if I am forced to do everything by myself," she snarled, "the couch, for sixty days." She finished with unwavering resoluteness.
Anakin blanched. "I'll do it." He said quickly.
Padmé beamed. "That's settled then!" she stood up on her tiptoes and ruffled Anakin's wavy, shoulder-length hair lovingly. Then she sashayed off, her feather boa trailing behind her.
"Don't do that," Anakin irritably snapped, "it makes me feel like a little kid."
Padmé hummed in response.
Anakin shook his head, placing his flesh hand on his forehead. And here he thought 'PMS-ing' was dreadful. Note to self – don't get her pregnant again.
-----NEXT DAY, AT THE JEDI TEMPLE-----
"I would like to request being an intern crèche master for the duration of one week."
Master Yoda raised an eyebrow. Master Windu raised his eyebrow. And in addition, Anakin thought he saw Obi-wan choking on thin air.
"Could you repeat that, Skywalker?" Master Windu asked, his dark eyes drilling into Anakin's cerulean ones with the intensity of several lightsabers.
"I would like to request being an intern crèche master for the duration of one week." Anakin repeated.
There is no mistaking Obi-wan's coughing right now. He thought wryly, as Obi-wan's coughing slowly crescendoed to fortissimo.
"You've got to be kidding me," Obi-wan managed to cough out, a bewildered expression on his face. However, he was silenced by a glare from Mace Windu.
"Skywalker, serious you are?" inquired Yoda, a slightly bemused (or was it amused?) expression on his face.
Anakin nodded, an unyielding expression on his face that was akin to one facing his death on the black sands of Mustafar.
Master Windu cleared his throat, "Then it is our privilege to give you this week to work as an intern crèche master. Remember that this week is an honorable week…"
More like 'death week'. Anakin thought bitterly.
"…and is not to be ridiculed in any way." finished Master Windu while glaring at Anakin, as if he'd heard his inner thoughts.
"Dismissed, you are. Accompany you will Master Kenobi to the crèche." Yoda concluded, regaining his composure.
Obi-Wan rose and said politely to the circle of masters, "Excuse us." They both bowed before promptly leaving the room.
When the doors slid shut, Obi-wan swiveled his head to face his former padawan's face so quickly that Anakin could've sworn he heard a crack. "Explain, Anakin." He said tiredly. "Is this another one of your antics?" Because Obi-wan remembered all too well when Anakin replaced the boots of the crèche master with boots that squeaked, resulting in a fairly noisy afternoon. Perhaps it was an adumbration towards his ulterior motives.
Anakin struggled to keep his face composed, clearly remembering the incident. "No Master, I just decided that it was time I grew up."
Obi-wan eyed Anakin suspiciously, but kept silent as they approached the sliding doors of the crèche. The crèche master turned towards them, a beaming smile on her face. "Master Obi-wan! Are you the intern crèche master this week?"
Obi-wan stepped back a few steps, hands held up in a surrendering posture. "No, it's not me; it's my former padawan, Anakin Skywalker."
Anakin bowed his head respectfully, but he kept his eyes glued to the elderly crèche master, clearly enjoying her reaction to the name 'Skywalker'. "I'm in high spirits to see that you remember me." He said, smirking slightly.
"He's in your hands now," Obi-wan said quickly, before escaping the scene.
The crèche master looked at Anakin, her formerly kind expression replaced by one filled with malicious intent. "Come with me, I'll show you your tasks for this week.."
Anakin gulped visibly, trailing behind the elderly woman. I have a bad feeling about this…
-----------
"So…after they get their afternoon snack - they have the choice of either biscuits or crackers – there's an hour of painting. Good luck, Anakin." The crèche master grinned at him before her departure.
So now Anakin Skywalker, a father-to-be and fully trained Jedi knight stood alone in the middle of the crèche, surrounded by force-sensitive infants who were gazing at him expectantly.
"So… who wants crackers?" asked Anakin awkwardly.
And the room promptly broke into wails.
-----------
"So… how did it go?" Padmé asked her husband, a smile threatening to slip on her face as she looked over his paint-splattered Jedi robes.
Anakin sighed as he stepped inside the apartment. "I'll tell you during dinner. But let me tell you this, I can't believe they use the Force to paint… and with humans as canvases."
"Actually, I rather like your new look." Padmé murmured as she brushed her lips gently against Anakin's cheek. "Maybe we should teach our little one how to do so." She suggested, looking up at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
Anakin groaned in response.
Word count: 1,648
24- Anakin as a crèche master in the Jedi Temple
And it must meet the following guidelines:
Must be between 1,000 and 3,000 words
Must include the following:
Any form of the word "adore"
Paint
Boa
Cracker or biscuit
adumbration
The phrase: "You've got to be kidding me."
I just had to include some of the Star Wars lines. ;)
Author: musingmiyu
Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, and other minor characters
Timeframe: After the Battle of Coruscant
Summary: Threats are made; jobs are taken.
Notes: I did this for a fanfiction challenge at a SW forum. It was a random drawing to pair up Anakin Skywalker with a queer job choice.
Disclamer: I do not own Star Wars. GL does.
Author's Notes: This is actually my first ever Star Wars fanfiction, and it is un-betaed. So forgive me if they're out of character, or if there are grammar mistakes. But I hope that you'll enjoy it. :) This is a one-shot, but I might write more about what excatly happens during Anakin's job. ;)
crèche master: Takes care of younglings in the Jedi temple; nursury caretaker.
Agonizing Decision
A crash.
A shriek.
The cry of, "my favorite vase!" followed shortly of the sound of precious porcelain breaking into several thousand pieces.
He heard a groan, a moan, and the shout of "Anakin!"
Anakin sighed. What was it that he to do to get a few seconds of peace in his own household? "What?" he called, folding the pages of his weekly debrief report together. "No missions this week…" he mumbled, already envisioning a week filled with him and Padmé… though her budging belly could prove to be a problem from some of his… visions.
"Did you see my feather boa?" asked Padmé; "I need it for the meeting at the senate…" she trailed off, as Anakin heard a sound that slightly resembled an avalanche.
Hearing this, Anakin snapped out of his daydream, ignited his lightsaber and rushed into his wife's room, searching for danger… only to find Padmé knocked over and half buried by the contents of her closet.
He rushed over and pulled her up, asking anxiously, "Are you okay? Is the baby…"
She brushed him off, saying, "I'm fine, Ani. Just remind me to clean out my closet sometime this week… So, have you seen my feather boa?"
Anakin took the boa, which was ingeniously on a hook behind the door, and hooked it around his wife, drawing her closer to him. Leaning down slightly to whisper in her ear, he said softly, "Padmé, I have good news…"
Padmé looked up into her husband's azure eyes, asking playfully as she tugged away the boa from his grip, "Oh? And what good news is that?"
Anakin took a deep breath and stated breathlessly, "I'm free this week, Padmé… No politics, no plotting, no war… just for this week."
Padmé adoringly embraced him, "That's wonderful! Let me see your report…" she snatched the flimsiplast away from Anakin's loose grip. Her expression quickly turned from joyous to crestfallen in a matter of a few seconds. "…oh Ani, no… it seems that you were mistaken," she said dejectedly. "It says that you are expected to serve the community of Coruscant for a week."
Padmé handed the flimsiplast back to him, "Here, you can look for yourself."
Anakin took the wretched material back into his hands. "They're surprisingly generous this time…" he commented dryly, "they've provided me with several options. There's an intern realtor, a bodyguard, an intern crèche master for the Jedi temple…"
He paused, with a grimace on his face. Who in their right mind would want to do that? Being surrounded by several dozen force-sensitive youngling infants and toddlers... and orbiting around their every need, 24/7…
Padmé's voice cut into his musings, "That's great Ani, you can take that job!"
Anakin looked down to see his wife's positively beaming face. "Are you kidding me?" he asked incredulously, furrowing his eyebrows. "Are you aware of the dangers in there? Of being surrounded by crying force-sensitive babies, of whom I might add, unconsciously use the force to enhance their cries? Or being held accountable for their welfare? Orbiting myself to suit every one of their needs? And changing diapers?!" he paused in his tirade, to notice that Padmé's complexion took on a dangerous shade of red.
Anakin clearly recognized it as one of the warning signs of one of Padmé's harangues. Even after the three years they were together, he still couldn't fathom how someone so tiny like his wife could make herself so large and menacing, while managing to boom out words faster than point five past lightspeed.
'Oh force, I'd rather be stuck in the nest of gundarks with Obi-wan again…' he thought pleadingly, as he mentally prepared himself for the outburst. Instead, he looked down to find round tears welling up in Padmé's nutmeg colored eyes.
"Anakin Skywalker," Padmé enunciated every six syllables of his name slowly, clearly, and dangerously. "I'm pregnant." She paused here, clearly expecting some sort of response from Anakin.
"I know that, Padmé." he replied, concern showing in his eyes. "You told me just yesterday. And this baby is a blessing, the best thing that has ever happened to me." He finished, trying to reassure his wife. Secretly, he wondered if the stress of the pregnancy was getting to her head. Which was strange, because according to the 'educational' pamphlets they received at the Jedi temple, the menstrual cycle of women was supposed to pause while they were harboring a child. Anakin clandestinely thanked the Force for such blessings. He could never forget the time he came back home from a long mission, only to find an angry Padmé, peanuts, and a curiously decorated ceiling.
"Then, you do know that in four months, you'll be a father," Padmé said calmly, then she promptly burst into tears and threw herself at a bewildered Anakin, pounding on his chest. "And you'll have to do the diapers," pound, "all the feeding," pound, "and you do realize that you'll have to care for the child… and love him." She paused momentarily to gaze up into her husband's eyes, and then proceeded with the pounding.
"And Force help me, if I am forced to do everything by myself," she snarled, "the couch, for sixty days." She finished with unwavering resoluteness.
Anakin blanched. "I'll do it." He said quickly.
Padmé beamed. "That's settled then!" she stood up on her tiptoes and ruffled Anakin's wavy, shoulder-length hair lovingly. Then she sashayed off, her feather boa trailing behind her.
"Don't do that," Anakin irritably snapped, "it makes me feel like a little kid."
Padmé hummed in response.
Anakin shook his head, placing his flesh hand on his forehead. And here he thought 'PMS-ing' was dreadful. Note to self – don't get her pregnant again.
-----NEXT DAY, AT THE JEDI TEMPLE-----
"I would like to request being an intern crèche master for the duration of one week."
Master Yoda raised an eyebrow. Master Windu raised his eyebrow. And in addition, Anakin thought he saw Obi-wan choking on thin air.
"Could you repeat that, Skywalker?" Master Windu asked, his dark eyes drilling into Anakin's cerulean ones with the intensity of several lightsabers.
"I would like to request being an intern crèche master for the duration of one week." Anakin repeated.
There is no mistaking Obi-wan's coughing right now. He thought wryly, as Obi-wan's coughing slowly crescendoed to fortissimo.
"You've got to be kidding me," Obi-wan managed to cough out, a bewildered expression on his face. However, he was silenced by a glare from Mace Windu.
"Skywalker, serious you are?" inquired Yoda, a slightly bemused (or was it amused?) expression on his face.
Anakin nodded, an unyielding expression on his face that was akin to one facing his death on the black sands of Mustafar.
Master Windu cleared his throat, "Then it is our privilege to give you this week to work as an intern crèche master. Remember that this week is an honorable week…"
More like 'death week'. Anakin thought bitterly.
"…and is not to be ridiculed in any way." finished Master Windu while glaring at Anakin, as if he'd heard his inner thoughts.
"Dismissed, you are. Accompany you will Master Kenobi to the crèche." Yoda concluded, regaining his composure.
Obi-Wan rose and said politely to the circle of masters, "Excuse us." They both bowed before promptly leaving the room.
When the doors slid shut, Obi-wan swiveled his head to face his former padawan's face so quickly that Anakin could've sworn he heard a crack. "Explain, Anakin." He said tiredly. "Is this another one of your antics?" Because Obi-wan remembered all too well when Anakin replaced the boots of the crèche master with boots that squeaked, resulting in a fairly noisy afternoon. Perhaps it was an adumbration towards his ulterior motives.
Anakin struggled to keep his face composed, clearly remembering the incident. "No Master, I just decided that it was time I grew up."
Obi-wan eyed Anakin suspiciously, but kept silent as they approached the sliding doors of the crèche. The crèche master turned towards them, a beaming smile on her face. "Master Obi-wan! Are you the intern crèche master this week?"
Obi-wan stepped back a few steps, hands held up in a surrendering posture. "No, it's not me; it's my former padawan, Anakin Skywalker."
Anakin bowed his head respectfully, but he kept his eyes glued to the elderly crèche master, clearly enjoying her reaction to the name 'Skywalker'. "I'm in high spirits to see that you remember me." He said, smirking slightly.
"He's in your hands now," Obi-wan said quickly, before escaping the scene.
The crèche master looked at Anakin, her formerly kind expression replaced by one filled with malicious intent. "Come with me, I'll show you your tasks for this week.."
Anakin gulped visibly, trailing behind the elderly woman. I have a bad feeling about this…
-----------
"So…after they get their afternoon snack - they have the choice of either biscuits or crackers – there's an hour of painting. Good luck, Anakin." The crèche master grinned at him before her departure.
So now Anakin Skywalker, a father-to-be and fully trained Jedi knight stood alone in the middle of the crèche, surrounded by force-sensitive infants who were gazing at him expectantly.
"So… who wants crackers?" asked Anakin awkwardly.
And the room promptly broke into wails.
-----------
"So… how did it go?" Padmé asked her husband, a smile threatening to slip on her face as she looked over his paint-splattered Jedi robes.
Anakin sighed as he stepped inside the apartment. "I'll tell you during dinner. But let me tell you this, I can't believe they use the Force to paint… and with humans as canvases."
"Actually, I rather like your new look." Padmé murmured as she brushed her lips gently against Anakin's cheek. "Maybe we should teach our little one how to do so." She suggested, looking up at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
Anakin groaned in response.
Word count: 1,648
24- Anakin as a crèche master in the Jedi Temple
And it must meet the following guidelines:
Must be between 1,000 and 3,000 words
Must include the following:
Any form of the word "adore"
Paint
Boa
Cracker or biscuit
adumbration
The phrase: "You've got to be kidding me."
I just had to include some of the Star Wars lines. ;)