Who: Anakin Sr. and Siri What: Having The Talk not the one about the birds and the bees, the one about falling to the Dark Side When: Sunday afternoon-ish Where: Anakin’s workroom in the castle Rating/Warnings: Discussions of evil, murder Status: In progress/Closed
Through the Force, Anakin felt Siri approach before she appeared in the open door to his workroom. She didn’t feel purposeful, he had no indication she intended to seek him out. It seemed this meeting would be accidental. All the same, he was nervous, though he knew they would talk eventually. Even the peaceful atmosphere of his workroom couldn’t calm the rising tension in his shoulders.
Outwardly, the room was anything but harmonious. There seemed to be no method to the madness that was piles of electronic and mechanical parts, to the bits and pieces, screws and other fasteners, the wires and plugs that littered the floor between the haphazard piles. The room, once a set of living quarters, now granted to him by the castle staff for his own personal use, looked like the chaotic junk yard Qui-Gon had found him in.
But inwardly, in the Force, the room was quiet, still, juxtaposition against the mess that oddly felt natural and right to someone trained by the Jedi. This was the room Anakin used for meditation. Not the forms most Jedi employed, sitting or standing still while they opened themselves fully to the Force. Anakin’s own personal style included movement – working on some bit of machinery or droid while he let his mind drift on the Force. Things always made more sense, felt more right, when he was fixing or putting together something than when he tried to stay complete still. He knew the whispers about him at the Temple, amongst the Knights and Masters regarding this particular habit of his, an indication of attachment, they said, a hint of his Dark Side tendencies. But they didn’t know, or they didn’t want to accept, the truth was, during the war, the only time he felt calm in that raging storm was when he spent the time between campaigns in the hanger bay, working on his assigned starfighter.
Or when he was with Padmé, but that was a thousand steps below odd meditation techniques.
If Siri was going to confront him about his future misdeeds, this was the room to do it in.
Just before Siri’s form appeared in the door frame he set his tools next to his current project and waited, resigned that this discussion was going to happen.