[anakin has another brilliant idea...]

[ansketil]

Title: The End of the Festival ~ Part One
Disclaimer: Own Star Wars, I do not!
Rating: G
Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Naberrie, Palpatine, Sola Naberrie, Ryoo Naberrie, Pooja Naberrie, Jobal Naberrie, Ruwee Naberrie.
Word Count: 2,736
Summary: Obi-Wan and his erstwhile padawan are overseeing the Supreme Chancellor's security on Naboo, when a certain Senator invites them home to spend the end of the festival with her family. 
Author's Note: This story is pretty much canon compliant. I named the end of the Moon Festival after the figure of Death from Watership Down. This story has several parts which I'll post in the next couple of days. I use multiple POVs in this story, and mark when you're seeing through another character's eyes with a ~*~. You'll see through different characters' eyes in the next part.     

The palace of Theed was quiet but for the fountains playing in distant gardens. Dusk slipped across marble halls, bathing them in dying light. Not even Queen Jamilla was in residence this night – gone to spend this night with her family as tradition dictated.

Where is he? Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi wondered as the shadows lengthened. He’d allowed his padawan a reprieve in his duty of guarding the Supreme Chancellor, allowing the young man to go out and enjoy the festival. After all, there would be scant time for such frivolity in the days to come. But the festival lights were gone now and his apprentice was still missing. What could he be doing?

The Jedi Knight bowed to a red robed guard stationed outside a pair of elaborate doors, leading to the suite the Queen had given the Supreme Chancellor for the length of his stay. “Any word from Skywalker?” he asked.

“No, sir.”

 Obi-Wan stroked his beard, thoughtful. Palpatine had been planning to return to Coruscant tonight – taking his protection detail with him. What the blazes does Anakin think he’s playing at? Surely he hadn’t gotten himself into trouble…?

Kenobi was ushered into the presence of the Supreme Chancellor, who was standing on the balcony, gazing out at the sun setting over Theed’s waterfalls with a melancholy air. He had a quality of stillness Obi-Wan saw in few who were not Force-Sensitive – it was something the Jedi admired in the politician, though he would never say so.

“Are we ready to depart?” Palpatine asked softly, not turning to look at Obi-Wan.

“Unfortunately not, Your Excellency. My padawan has yet to return from the festival.”

“Ah, the impetuousness of youth…” the Chancellor chuckled, unnerving Obi-Wan slightly, but he could not say why; except that he did not like Palpatine’s assumption – true of Anakin though it was.

One of Palpatine’s aides joined them on the balcony, face serious. “… Excellency, if the Jedi does not return to the palace within the hour I would recommend we…”

Slipping away, Obi-Wan smiled, as he could feel his padawan drawing near though the marble corridors. They met in the doorway, and Obi-Wan’s smile grew wider as he saw that beautiful Senator Amidala was with him. She wore an informal festival dress with colourful skirts made for dancing.

“Obi-Wan! Padmé has invited me to spend the Eve of Inlé with her family.” Anakin’s face was flush, as though he’d been dancing too.

The Jedi’s smile faded, “I’m sorry milady, but Anakin and I are duty-bound to see the Chancellor back to Coruscant tonight.” He sent Anakin a sharp look.

“He’s leaving tonight?” Amidala frowned.

At that point, the Chancellor himself appeared behind Obi-Wan, inclining his head toward Anakin and the senator. “Senator, a pleasure as always… Well, since it appears Padawan Skywalker has returned safe and sound, we might see our way to making it back to Coruscant by tomorrow afternoon…”

“You’re leaving?” Amidala asked again, incredulous.

Palpatine smiled sadly, “Alas, yes. I will complete the Rites of Inlé on my shuttle, milady.”

“Alone? What about your family?”

“My last remaining relative, an aunt, passed away some years ago. There really is no need for such concern – I am eager to return to my duties.” Now he lowered his head, bowing from the neck, as one would to a Naboo monarch.

Anakin smiled broadly, his face lit with excitement. “Then why don’t you and Obi-Wan come too, sir? That is… er…?” he sent a sidelong glance in Amidala’s direction. She raised her eyebrows but nodded.

“My home is your home, Excellency. I’m sure my parents would be honoured if you would join us.”

“Your gesture is a fine one, senator, but I would not wish to intrude upon your family. I’m well aware of the formality my presence lends to any occasion, and Inlé is, by its very nature, an intimate time.”

Obi-Wan felt moved to intervene. Palpatine looked surprised and unsure – his gracious smile frozen. “Anakin, the Chancellor has many responsibilities elsewhere, as do we.” He turned to Amidala, “Much as we are honoured by the offer, it is impossible…”

Anakin, seeing that Obi-Wan was a lost cause, addressed himself to Palpatine – to the Jedi’s exasperation. “Please, sir!”  

“… Oh… very well, I will accept your generous invitation, milady,” Palpatine said at last. “Just give me a moment to change.” He slipped back into the suite, leaving the three of them in the corridor. Anakin shot Obi-Wan a triumphant smirk.

“What happens on the Eve of Inlé, senator?” Obi-Wan asked Amidala, pointedly ignoring the gloating Anakin.

“It’s the conclusion to the Lunar Festival – it’s tradition for every Naboo citizen to spend it with his or her family, but there are public ceremonies too. I’m shocked an old-fashioned Naboo like Palpatine would choose to spend it alone.”

“Perhaps he felt he had no choice,” Obi-Wan said with feeling, holding the senator’s gaze. “Are you sure your family won’t mind?”

“Any family would be glad to have the two Jedi responsible for saving our people.” Something turned over in Obi-Wan’s stomach: like Palpatine, he had no family and he understood the politician’s reluctance to intrude on someone else’s. It was a… reminder that he hoped Amidala would never have to experience. Anakin, of all people, ought to have understood that.

~*~

Eventually, Palpatine reappeared wearing a long midnight tunic with a high collar and ruched shoulders which tapered down to fitted sleeves – no cummerbund of office wrapped around his waist. To Padmé, he could have been any elderly Naboo scholar in such garb. She was reminded of how she had felt while in office when shorn of her queenly regalia: the freedom of it. But the Chancellor did not look similarly free; rather he wore a studied expression, as if unsure of how to arrange his features.

Actually, Obi-Wan’s expression was no so dissimilar. Padmé supposed that since they were both men who defined themselves almost entirely by the role they played, it was hard for them to shift back to being simple individuals. Meanwhile, she took both of Palpatine’s hands in hers, in the traditional greeting, wishing she could do the same for the Jedi Knight. At least amongst the Naboo there were rituals around such things:

“Chancellor Palpatine, it is my honour to bid you greet Padmé Naberrie.”

“It is my privilege, Padmé Naberrie, and I bid you greet Ethren as you would Palpatine.”

They shared a conspiratorial smile as they let go, turning back to the Jedi and his apprentice. How interesting that Palpatine had only given her one name and not two. Still, he had chosen his first name rather than his family name – which said much. Anakin was staring at them. “What, you didn’t think Palpatine was his actual name, did you?” she teased.

“Personally, the complexity of Naboo social rituals will never cease to surprise me,” Obi-Wan said jokingly as Anakin blushed.

“It is fortunate for you then, Jedi Kenobi, that the Rites of Inlé are as simple as they are sacred.” Palpatine seemed to have finally entered the spirit of the Lunar Festival and Padmé congratulated herself that she was right to have offered him this informality by dispensing with official names.

Now all she had to worry about would be her parents’ reaction when she turned up with not only Anakin, but with a Jedi Master and Supreme Chancellor in tow.

~*~

It was eight year-old Ryoo who answered the door, laughing and flinging herself into Anakin’s arms. He tossed her into the air, making her blue dress spin. Sola Naberrie was right behind her daughter, her welcoming smile turning to surprise when she realised her sister Padmé had brought back two more guests – who both bowed respectfully to her as if she were the woman of the household.

She curtsied, “Your Excellency! Um… w-we’re honoured – and?”

“This is Obi-Wan Kenobi, my Jedi Master,” Anakin explained with a grin, while Ryoo was staring at Palpatine in awe, hiding her face behind Anakin’s shoulder. There was a shrieking down the hall as little Pooja barrelled down the stairs, stopping behind her mother’s skirts to stare at their guests.

Padmé smiled, “Neither of these gentlemen had anywhere to go on the Eve of Inlé, so I invited them home. Mother usually cooks twice as much food as we need anyway.”

Sola stared at the two men. The Jedi looked embarrassed under his stoicism, while Palpatine was wearing the serenely bland expression she’d seen on her younger sister’s face often enough to know that it was the mask of a highly discomforted politician. Clearly Padmé hasn’t lost her talent for creating crazy situations out of thin air!

“Why are you lot still standing in the doorway?!” came the voice of Sola’s mother, Jobal, from upstairs. “This isn’t New Year!”

“Come in,” Sola waved them through into the kitchen, wishing her husband were here rather than with his own family tonight. It would have given her someone to gripe about Padmé’s overly generous spirit to.

The Chancellor greeted her father with the polite grace for which he was famed and Sola could tell Ruwee Naberrie was flattered, his blue eyes sparkling, as Palpatine, or rather Ethren, introduced himself in the informal manner. Anakin winked at Sola behind the senior politician’s back and Sola wondered just what Padmé thought she was up to.

Their mother, on the other hand, wasn’t flattered in the least, but treated Palpatine like any other guest and Sola could tell she was secretly perturbed that Padmé had invited two strangers into their home for the Eve of Inlé. Jobal offered the three guests seats around the table (another chair had to be fetched from Ruwee’s study for Anakin) and the mood soon lightened.

“I hate Futhark!” Ryoo exclaimed when Palpatine and Ruwee – typically – started talking about the philosophical literature of Naboo; all of it in Futhark, the formal and more esoteric Naboo dialect.

“If you don’t learn Futhark you’ll never get to be a senator like me,” Padmé reminded her niece.

“And why would she want to do that?” Palpatine unexpectedly took up Ryoo’s cause, “Anyone can see that this girl would be a natural Tusk-Cat tamer; much more interesting than being a boring old senator, not to mention that there’s less chance of being eaten.”

The adults laughed, while little Pooja cried out, “Ryoo can’t be a Tusk-Cat tamer! I’m going to be a Tusk-Cat tamer!”

~*~

Anakin didn’t say much at dinner, but there seemed to be a warm glow around the table that evening that even Obi-Wan wasn’t immune to its charm and Anakin laughed along with everyone else when Pooja spilt juice onto his Master’s lap. Obi-Wan took it in good part however, and after Jobal had given him one of Ruwee’s tunics, the Jedi joked with Pooja, several times pretending to almost spill his wine down her “special party dress”, causing Pooja to squeal in horror.

It was a perfect evening. He glanced at Padmé, who squeezed his hand under the table as she chatted to her mother. If only his mother could have been here, it would have been the best evening of his life. Here were the two people he loved most in the galaxy apart from his wife: Obi-Wan and Palpatine, both sitting at the table happily eating and talking with his wife’s family, as if Anakin really had chosen to bring his own family to his wife’s home on the Eve of Inlé.

Finally, when everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, the Naberrie family escorted their guests to the lounge, where Ruwee got a fire burning. Jobal and Ruwee sat together on the sofa, while Palpatine sat in an armchair with Pooja almost asleep on his lap. Obi-Wan took the other armchair whilst Anakin, Padmé, Sola and Ryoo stretched out together on the rugs near the fire.

Palpatine stroked Pooja’s hair fondly, “Wake up, little one. You must tell the first story.”

“We’re telling stories?” Anakin asked.

“Didn’t Padmé tell you about what happens at Inlé?” Jobal asked, leaning against Ruwee’s shoulder.

“It’s the time of the dead,” Sola explained, “At the end of the Lunar Festival the Lady Moon allows the dead to wander for one night, to see their loved ones who haven’t joined them in Lady Moon’s kingdom. So we hold a feast in their honour after which each of us tells a story we think the ghosts will enjoy. Pooja must tell the first story because she’s the youngest and has the least ghosts. That way, all the Chancellor’s ghosts – for instance – have to sit and listen through everyone else’s stories before they hear theirs. It’s also hoped that all the dead will stay to the end that way, because everyone knows that old people tell the best stories.”

Anakin immediately thought of Shmi. What story would she like to hear? She used to tell him bedtime stories, but over the years he’d forgotten most of them. One of the old sand tales Jira used to tell? Or maybe a Jedi story; his mother would enjoy hearing about the sort of man her son had become. He assessed the ages of the beings around him: Pooja and Ryoo would go first, then him, then Padmé, then either Obi-Wan or Sola (who looked about the same age), then Jobal, then Ruwee, and finally Palpatine. The children’s tales would probably be short so Anakin would have only a bit of time to think of what he was going to say for Shmi.

Pooja wriggled off Palpatine’s lap to sit beside Ryoo on the floor. “Grandma Ryoo said that the youngest always has to tell a story about a princess,” Pooja explained confidently. As the little girl began, Anakin thought he sensed a… gathering in the air. The trees rustled outside as the firelight flickered across the faces of those gathered. Maybe his mother really could hear them? Obi-Wan was looking out the window and Anakin found himself locking eyes with Palpatine, who smiled enigmatically before turning his full attention to Pooja.

“Do you believe in Inlé?” Anakin whispered to Padmé.

“Shhh…!” Padmé said, “You’ll upset the ghosts.”

Whereas the princesses in Tatooine fairy tales were dune maidens, or sky fairies, Pooja’s princess was a Princess of Theed, who seemed to be a sort of mayor in a pretty dress. The Princess had to decide where to place a new statue of Lady Moon – but none of the council agreed where was best and everybody started arguing. The debate was eventually solved when Lady Moon appeared to the Princess in a dream and told her that the greatest gift for the goddess would be to not build her a statue at all, but to keep the people of her husband, Lord Sun, happy. So the Princess put the money that would have gone into making the statue into holding a festival in Lady Moon’s name for the people of Theed. 

This caused the two politicians in the room to trade amused glances. It showed how politically minded the people of Naboo were, if this was the sort of thing they told their children instead of Gragda versus the sand dragons – which Anakin privately thought was a lot more exciting than a whole lot of civic officials arguing over where to put a statue.

Next it was Ryoo’s turn and Anakin was gratified to discover that her tale was much more interesting than Pooja’s. It took place on Rori, one of Naboo’s moons, where a magical Tusk-Cat was eating spice miners at night. The narrative didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but Anakin enjoyed Ryoo’s graphic descriptions of how the Tusk-Cat chewed down each miner, which Ryoo pronounced with obvious relish. The miners were eventually saved by feeding the creature so much spice it began hallucinating, and thus they were able to kill it (after some savage combat, of course). Sola looked increasingly appalled at what her daughter seemed to know about the effects of spice overdose, but said nothing – constrained by the sacred nature of Inlé.

“They told us about it in school,” Ryoo explained afterward when interrogated by Ruwee.

“It was a great story,” Anakin enthused.

“I made it up myself, unlike Pooja!”

“Don’t argue,” Jobal admonished, “is that what you want your grandparents to see?”

“I believe it’s your turn next, Anakin.” Obi-Wan reminded him.

Anakin smiled, “I know… I have the perfect story...”               

         

Comments

[darstellen.livejournal.com]

Aaah, I can't wait for the rest! This is a brilliant conceit -- not only does it enable reflection on the bureacratic nature of Naboo and the beginnings of both Padme's and Palpatine's genealogy, not only does the festival for the dead foreshadow the deaths to come in a chilling way, but it is also eminently literary in nature. Each of the stories told has been extremely revealing; and I have the feeling these stories have a magical power to conjure, whether in a good way or bad ...

Just wonderful, and I eagerly anticipate the continuation.

[ansketil-rose.livejournal.com]

Thank you, I'm really enjoying exploring the sociological aspects of each story, as well as the characters who tell them. It really is a conceit though, and the structure becomes rather artificial in the second chapter (which I promised myself I would write before answering comments). You're certainly right about the stories and I hope you enjoy the second chapter as much as the first. <3

So many characters in one scene, neatly done.

[pronker]

This is a wonderful, community-based story and I love it. It has jabs at Obi-Wan by Anakin, always a pleaser and little Pooja and Ryoo acting like siblings, fun. Ruwee and Palpatine discussing in Futhark, great!

Hehe... this is nothing compared to the uber-long cw character-fest!

[ansketil-rose.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you enjoyed the ensemble feel of the first chapter. I really wanted to write something that would appeal to the fans of all the characters, so they've all got their parts to play and story to tell. :)

[zigsternenstaub.livejournal.com]

Delightful! You've managed to get Palpatine out his ivory tower for once and placed him in the company of the rest of the galaxy, you clever thing, you! I also really appreciated the heavily layered, ritual nature of Naboo society, many of which details seem to escape the non-Naboo present--such as the omission of Palpatine's family name, which Padme picks up on instantly, while Anakin merely marvels at the mention of Palpatine's given, non-political name.

I enjoyed the intellectual characterisation of Padme here, as here:

To Padmé, he could have been any elderly Naboo scholar in such garb. She was reminded of how she had felt while in office when shorn of her queenly regalia: the freedom of it. But the Chancellor did not look similarly free; rather he wore a studied expression, as if unsure of how to arrange his features.

A wonderfully thoughtful observation on her part, one which meets the high intellectual capacity which no doubt must have been hers, given that she was Princess of Theed by the time she was twelve years old!

Speaking of that office, the mention made of it in the story and the other mentions you made of the essentially political society of the Naboo were interesting (loved the higher linguistic bracket/academic dialect you've invented, by the way!). Nice world-building with Anakin's thoughts of contrasting Tatooine stories, such as those of 'dune maidens' and 'sky fairies.' They sound intriguingly magical!

I took note of and enjoyed Obi-Wan's ambivalence towards Palpatine--his admiration of the man's calm and his dislike of Palpatine's 'presumptous' comments about the impetuosity of youth. This uncertaintly reflects the Jedi's wariness of politicians as canonically portrayed in the films.

Lastly, your festival of the dead sounds absolutely magical, and I love the ritual story-telling tradition you've invented, particularly the order in which the stories must by told. I wonder which one of Palpatine's ghosts might choose to show up!

A wonderful first chapter. I can't wait to read more!

[ansketil-rose.livejournal.com]

You've managed to get Palpatine out his ivory tower for once and placed him in the company of the rest of the galaxy, you clever thing, you!

It was hard. But in the end I persuaded him to toddle off with the others by promising him ghost stories and mulled wine.

such as the omission of Palpatine's family name, which Padme picks up on instantly, while Anakin merely marvels at the mention of Palpatine's given, non-political name.

It was super-fun constructing the name rituals and the formula Padme and Palpatine use. Also, Palpatine's first name becomes... interesting... in the second chapter.

The princess story just came to me whole, but I can't take credit for inventing Futhark, though on wookiepedia it's just an alphabet. Anakin's "sky faeries" will recieve a proper airing in his story and there will be more Naboo sociology too.

^______^ Glad you're enjoying it!

[calimazan.livejournal.com]

I liked the start of this fic, those traditions we never see in canon but which shape the characters are always interesting. Characters tellings stories is such a great way to show who they really are, I can't wait for the following tales.

[ansketil-rose.livejournal.com]

Thanks (your icons is great, btw)! I'm really having fun writing their stories. ^_^

[luminations.livejournal.com]

Ooooo nice work! I love this Naboo tradition you've dreamt up! And Palpatine is so gloriously Palpatine in his speech and manner [insert fangirl squeeing] - Ethren! Yes I remember you named him that in a different story ;)

Forgive the short comment but I must be along to part 2 now!

[ansketil-rose.livejournal.com]

Ethren! Yes I remember you named him that in a different story ;)

Hehehe... yes! You know my devious ways too well, apprentice!