Chapter Text
See, it wasn't Mace’s intention to beef with a nine-year-old. Anakin Skywalker just so happened to be caught in the crossfire of his beef with Qui-Gon Jinn. That beef may have bled on to the kid completely by accident when Qui-Gon died. Mace just didn't have the time to… redirect his beef properly to someone else.
Beefing with Obi-Wan felt a lot like kicking a wet tooka, and Anakin was young and precocious enough to shrug off any side-eye.
If Mace was going to be honest with himself, that sounded a lot like bullying (“It is,” a voice that sounded suspiciously like Qui-Gon chimed cheerfully) and really he should put a stop to it because he was – is – an adult. If anything, maybe he should be a little nicer to Skywalker, considering the boy had to leave his mother behind to be a Jedi.
Once again, Qui-Gon left a mess for him to deal with. Quinlan should still be in the area, maybe Mace could get him to free Shmi Skywalker and bring her to Coruscant. Or something.
Yeah, maybe Mace should start with that. To end the beef.
And it was absolutely not to soothe his guilty conscience for beefing with a youngling.
That was then It happened.
Newly-elected Chancellor Palpatine sent a holomessage, and the longer Mace read it, the higher his eyebrow went.
“Hello esteemed Jedi, I would totally like to have an hour alone unsupervised with your new nine-year-old Padawan learner, whose Master is currently a grieving wreck.”
Oh hells no.
Anakin Skywalker was currently enjoying the sand cookies Mace Windu bought as a gift for the Chancellor, absolutely oblivious to the battle of wits between the most politically powerful man in the galaxy and arguably the most powerful Jedi at the moment.
The tea the Chancellor gave him paired really well with the pastry, which was totally Wizard. It was totally worth it when Mister Mace Windu made Anakin carry them all the way from the temple to the Chancellor's office.
“Be polite,” Mace Windu said on the way in the air taxi, “remember your ‘please’s’ and ‘thank you’s’.”
Anakin nodded vigorously then, also shaking the box by accident. Mister Mace just sighed and didn't say anything later when the Chancellor opened it and all the cone shell shaped cookies were broken in half.
The Chancellor and Mister Mace just stared at each other over Anakin's head, like they totally forgot he was there.
“Aw, and they looked so pretty,” Anakin had to say when they wouldn't stop looking at each other’s eyes without blinking. “I’m sorry I broke them, Mister Chancellor sir.”
Neither of them blinked and it looked really uncomfortable because Anakin could have sworn tears were forming in their eyes.
“What a shame,” Mister Chancellor Sheev Palpatine said in a voice that it was indeed a shame. “And it would have paired well with my favorite blend of Chandrillan pu’er.”
“Oh it’s no problem at all,” said Mace in a voice that sounded like it really was a problem. “Those cookies break off when dipped, they’re just broken before dipped. It will still pair perfectly with your tea.”
“Maybe I should brew some for our young Anakin here. Poor thing had to carry them all the way, with no help from the perfectly capable adult with him.”
“Absolutely, as much as I would love to carry it - Anakin insisted.” Anakin didn't. “I trust that he’s perfectly capable and he did it so he could impress you. I am certainly astounded with his maturity and sense of responsibility” … maybe Anakin did insist on carrying it. He will take credit where credit was due.
“With all due respect,” Mace continued without any respect. “I am a little disappointed that the Chancellor of the Republic did not have any tea ready when he's supposed to be hosting this little soiree.”
“Surely any cultured and well-educated Jedi should know that Chandrillian pu’er is best enjoyed freshly brewed.”
The Chancellor was already brewing tea and had set three cups for all of them and had motioned for them to sit in the big comfy sofas.
“Is that the only tea that pairs well with sand cookies?”
It's like they both totally forgot that Anakin was there (or whenever they remembered Anakin was there, they would say something a little mean about the other), which was fine, because there was something in the Force that… waited? Anakin couldn't say, but he did like watching these two talk to each other in weirdly inflected sentences without touching either snack or tea.
It's like watching two sandfishwives when they're doing sonic laundry in Mos Espa.
“Not at all, I only wish for the best for our boy Anakin here. Even if he insisted on carrying a heavy burden,” it was a lot lighter than the stuff Watto made him carry, “ the adult in this situation should know better. Or do Jedi simply like pushing responsibility to others?”
“By that logic, should Anakin not learn responsibility so that he will grow up to be a good adult? Or would you rather spoil and coddle him instead of letting him learn and grow?”
Anakin chomped on another cookie.
“Being considerate is not spoiling!”
“Trusting children to handle themselves isn't offloading!”
The two panted like they ran from Mos Espa to Mos Eisley and back, red-faced and still not blinking. It was quiet for a long while, as Anakin was finally out of cookies and tea.
That was then Anakin decided to speak.
”I actually broke the cookies.” Anakin looked down, cowed. “I got too excited and shook the box around.”
“Anakin my boy, there is nothing to be sorry for. Accidents happen and you have done absolutely nothing wrong.”
“Thank you for telling us Sky– Anakin and I admit I am disappointed that it happened, but I admire that you chose to be the bigger person."
Anakin blinked and looked between the Chancellor and Mister Mace Windu. They both sounded right and wrong at the same time, and the way they looked at each other was a lot like when a krayt is fighting another krayt for territory.
“Why you mister spoiled rotten–”
“Why you holier-than-thou–”
The door opened to reveal Chancellor Palpatine’s secretary, and a ring from Mister Mace's holocomm both happened at the exact same time?”
“Windu here.”
Too bad they can't stay for long.
The Chancellor said his goodbye with a lone tear running down his eye when he stooped down to Anakin's level, and made a face like he smelled something horrible when he looked at Mister Mace Windu. Mister Mace Windu gave him the exact same look.
“I am looking forward to your next visit, young Anakin. I enjoyed our time despite the other present company.”
“It was fun!” Anakin grinned.
“Oh don't you worry about the other present company.” The whole room suddenly felt a whole lot colder as Mister Mace spoke. “He’ll be back for more.”
The Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, Sheev Palpatine, had more to say; but Mister Mace Windu was already stalking out with his robes billowing with unseen wind – practically carrying Anakin by the hip.
The doors to the Chancellor's office really should be replaced with gigantic manual double doors that could be slammed shut, because reinforced durasteel apertures hissing closed were just not as dramatic.
Mace’s plan during Skywalker's visit was just to observe. Maybe grunt with a slight hint of disapproval whenever a politician was passive-aggressive towards Jedi.
But Sheev Palpatine went straight for the throat, and Mave just had to draw boood in retaliation.
So what if it was petty and childish? The Chancellor shouldn't act like Skywalker was some sensitive flower that fell apart at the slightest criticism.
As a matter of fact, Skywalker had the tendency to do better – in saber forms or Force exercises, at least – out of spite. Maybe he did embellish a thing or two during the airtaxi ride, but Mace was surprisingly genuinely sincere about what he said about Skywalker.
Fineee, he has been a little too hard on the boy. But it was hard not to. Not when he looked at Skywalker and all he could think about was Obi-Wan – stone faced and voice flat even as the tears trailed down his eyes, reporting Qui-Gon’s death. Then Qui-Gon himself; the last conversation they ever held was about the boy, the promise to speak more later hanging in between them. Now that promise was forever broken, and there was no way to move forward.
It wasn't Skywalker's fault.
At all.
Mace knew it. Mace had used logic against it. Mace had reasoned with it. Mace tried beating the need to blame with meditation and Vaapad strikes to a hapless training droid.
It wasn't Skywalker that stabbed a red lightsaber against Qui-Gon's chest and through his heart. It was the Sith. It wasn't Skywalker that decided that going after a suspected Sith instead of waiting for Obi-Wan for back up was the best course of action. It was Qui-Gon himself. And it wasn't Skywalker that decided that just sending Jinn and Kenobi to Naboo without any sort of support was an excellent idea.
That was Mace Windu.
Despite the horrible Shatterpoint staring back at him.
It was the entire Council: if Mace really wanted to be pedantic about it, that decided Qui-Gon’s fate. They all voted no, and so, no help was given to Qui-Gon.
It just so happened that the Council tended to vote in Mace's favor.
So.
Really, it was Mace's fault that Qui-Gon did not get the help he needed, and now Mace was left with blaming a child for dismissing an obvious threat; and a Knight who barely hid the fact that he’s lost and terrified whose grief bled so easily in the Force that Mace couldn't sleep.
It was Mace's choices that led to this, and yet he lashed out at the person who deserved it the least.
Force, he was a mess.
And he should sleep soon, really. Instead of thinking about who exactly and how to assign blame.
If he thought it was the Will of the Force, then Mace should accept it, as any Jedi would. Should. Must.
Because if it was the Will of the Force that Qui-Gon Jinn died, then was it also the Will of the Force to leave a light as bright as Obi-Wan feeling lost and alone?
The Force had no answer.
As the holoclock ticked, Mace’s sleepiness fought against the migraine that kept him awake. Now he was stuck in that strange inbetween sleep and wakefulness. His body desperately needed to rest, but his mind flitted through one thought to the next.
By his estimations, it should be around 0200. There was a Council meeting tomorrow in the morning and it was best to be well-rested.
But he could not
A little pissed off, he chucked his blankets off and opted to gaze at Coruscant’s skyline through his holoview.
Even in the middle of night, the Republic’s jewel was aglow with artificial lights, the never ending air traffic an unchangeable constant.
500 Republica was within view and plenty of lights remained on. Mace knew which Senators resided in which parts in general, and that Chancellor Palpatine’s suites were nearby.
And still active at this hour of the night.
It should be expected that a man like Palpatine would be busy at all times of the day. Especially right after a swift exchange of power. He was probably adjusting from Senator to Chancellor. He would be very busy.
And Palpatine still found the time to ask for Anakin Skywalker and invite the boy for tea.
It just annoyed the fuck out of Mace that he had to schedule escorting the boy just to be insulted straight to his face.
There was no shame with his sand cookies. Sand cookies were naturally delicate and the slightest movement often broke them.
It meant they were baked with love and care. That someone took the time and effort to make sure they came out perfect. It did break, but the essence and flavor remained the same. That is its core, they still were sand cookies.
Then Palpatine decided that they were not worth the effort and weren't worth consideration.
It was annoying and pissed the fuck out of Mace.
Despite their volley of insults, Palpatine decided he still wanted to invite Skywalker and wanted Mace out. Well, too bad, he would be coming the next time.
And the next time after that, and so on and so forth.
Mace then decided he must strike pre-emptively.
If Palpatine was going to insult him on the next visit, then Mace would make the experience as grating and difficult for the man.
The Chancellor couldn't quite hide his rage. It was nearly murderous, if Mace was going to be honest with himself. It was rather unfortunate Force nulls couldn't quite hide their emotions in the Force. It was just a karking shame they had to volley insults in front of a child.
A very impressionable and precocious child – who probably thought that Mace hated him for no discernable reason.
That Palpatine seemed intent on turning against Mace right in front of his face for no reason.
To be fair, Mace did insult Palpatine back but…
He was a petty bastard, and whatever Palpatine was doing: making Anakin think that Mace was the villain in this situation, he would undo it. All of it
But first.
“What?” Palpatine snapped the moment Mace’s holocall connected. “It’s… 0237 why are you bothering me?”
“You haven't slept yet,” Mace pointed out. “Besides, I’m here to schedule Anakin Skywalker's next visit.”
It was a great thing Mace decided to invite themselves over a holocall, because it perfectly captured Palpatine’s flummoxed face.
Doubly perfect that all of Mace’s holocalls were recorded.
“I am a very busy man, Master Windu.”
“Please, call me Mace. Especially if we will be making tea a regular occurrence.” Mace smiled with all teeth. “Besides, I too am a very very busy man, but I still set aside my own schedule to accompany Padawan Skywalker.”
Mace could have sworn Palpatine went through all five stages of grief all at the same time, and this call was quite already worth his time.
“Fine, then. Mace.” Palpatine sniffed, and it came out as crackling static through the holocall. “I am available on Taungsday at 1600.”
“No. I have a Council session on that day and time. Benduday at 1500 sounds perfect. It's your day off and mine.” Mace continued when Palpatine looked like he was about to protest. “Unless you can’t make time for Anakin Skywalker?”
Mace was absolutely winning this battle against the Chancellor.
Palpatine looked extremely pained as he answered. “Fine. Then I insist you call me Sheev, then.”
It was on.
When Obi-Wan started tearing up when Mister Mace Windu bought them sand cookies to enjoy on their own (besides the ones Anakin had to set aside for the Chancellor), he decided he was very angry with Master Windu until Obi-Wan said that Master Qui-Gon Jinn used to make them all the time and that Obi-Wan didn't get the recipe because Master Qui-Gon never wrote anything down and Obi-Wan and couldn't recreate it the same way but Master Windu made it exactly how Master Qui-Gon would have and–
Anakin decided that Master Mace was forgiven for making Obi-Wan cry, because those were happy tears.
That and Master Mace said they were going to visit the Chancellor on the weekend and they could all have fun together. Which was totally Wizard.
He's really glad that Master Mace invited himself, because Masterace was now ten times nicer to Anakin!
Well, Master Mace still said things like ‘I expect you to be better,’ but then he would follow it up with ‘because I know you have it in you to be better and you just need to take a moment to breathe and understand why you feel that way and decide what would be the best course of action,’ and then made the horrible Padawans and Initiates that made fun of Obi-Wan behind his back clean the refreshers all week–
“Take this,” said Master Mace and handed him a broken mouse droid. “Fix it.”
Of course, other Masters and Knights complained about Anakin and Master Mace still had to discipline him. If that discipline was fixing droids all day, then it really wasn't much of a punishment.
Especially when Anakin asked if he could upgrade the droids and Master Mace said that he had free reign. Well.
Anakin was having an absolute blast.
But he had to hide that he was having fun.
“Wipe that smile off your face and look like you're trying to avoid Master Yoda’s stick.”
Anakin scowled immediately, but he still felt giddy on the inside. Everything was Wizard as Frip, and it was his own little secret.
Master Mace did say not to let Obi-Wan know all about those nasty things other people said because ‘Kenobi doesn't need that right now,’ and Anakin was in complete agreement.
So there they were, totally pretending Anakin was having the worst no good bad day, while everyone else got the consequences for their actions.
Tinkering with droids made everything better. Not even Watto could take away the joy of getting elbow deep in wires and circuitry.
Even if it made him wish his mom was with him right now.
Mace Windu had the galaxy’s best sabacc face, so Anakin had no warning on what the man said next.
“Your mother is free and is en route to Coruscant.”
A pin dropped. Then a hydrospanner.
It clattered as Anakin stared in shock.
“We are setting her up with an apartment and a job. We already removed her chip and– oomph!”
Mace crashed into the ground as Anakin tackled him. He couldn't stop the tears and the sobbing, and he only cried harder when he felt near mechanical pats on his back.
“This is the best gift anyone gave me right next to when Master Qui-Gon freed me and Obi-Wan said we’d be together forever and when I met Padmé!” Anakin sniffed. ”And it's not even my nameday.”
Anakin was crying into Mace's tunics and couldn't see the man’s face, but he does know it's probably doing that weird pinched look whenever an instructor went to Mace whenever they had a problem with Anakin.
“It's… fine.”
It's not often Mace Windu would be confused or don't know what to say or do, so Anakin decided to take pity on the poor Jedi Master and stood up.
A couple of Jedi peeked over what was happening and Anakin noticed that they started glaring at Mace after noticing that he had been wiping his tears.
Mace just sighed.
Unfortunately, the delicate nature of sand cookies meant that the slightest movement caused some damage. Fortunately, the damage was minimal and it was just the ends of the conch-shaped treats that broke off.
Better than broken in half, Mace decided.
The moment the Chancellor took the box from Skywalker’s hands. The smell of Chandrillan pu’er was already thick in the air when they arrived, so Mace let themselves be ushered into the plush couches.
“Woah! Is that a J-9880 miniature?” Skywalker bounded towards the display of model Nubians. “A H32 C-Series! That’s so Wizard!”
“Do you like it, young Anakin?” Despite addressing the boy, the Chancellor’s eyes were on Mace’s.
Mace knew a challenge when he saw one.
“Yeah! I mean, who doesn't like ship models?” Skywalker jumped like his feet were allergic to the ground as he perused the tiny ships. “I really love flying!”
“Then you can have it.” Palpatine’s expression was one of placid smugness, and it pissed the fuck out of Mace. “Unless Mace forbids it.”
“Aw shucks, Mister Chancellor sir, but Jedi can’t accept suuuupeeer expensive gifts. Obi-Wan says it’s a… uh… bribery? He said more words than that, but it’s a bad example.”
“That’s so generous of you, Sheev.” Palpatine’s left eye twitched at the use of his first name. “I am impressed that Padawan Skywalker took his Master’s lessons to heart and that he is mature enough to know and understand what sort of message the Jedi would be giving by accepting such a thing.”
Palpatine’s mouth pulled into a victorious grin, but Mace had an ace up his sleeve.
“However, seeing as Padawan Skywalker seemed to have taken a liking to it, it will be given to his mother instead. Whom he can visit at any time so that he may enjoy any gifts without compromising his vows.”
The Chancellor’s brows shot up. “You freed his mother?”
“Yeah! Mister Mace seems like a big angry bully, but he’s pretty Wizard! She’s gonna have an apartment here and the Jedi’s gonna help her get a job.”
Mace patted himself on the back for his excellent sabacc face, but he couldn't quite stop his mouth from twitching into a slight smile as Palpatine glared daggers at him.
“It’s unprecedented, you must understand, Sheev. Contact with family members isn't forbidden, just… discouraged. However, due to Padawan Skywalker’s unusual circumstances, we have made some exceptions.”
“How… generous.” Then Palpatine’s expression shifted into what Mace would internally call ‘sinister cunning menace’. “I hear that Queen Amidala is in need of an excellent mechanic, capable of working with limitations. Perhaps your mother would be interested in this opportunity.”
“Really? Thank you so much Mister Chancellor!”
‘You think you won?’ Palpatine mouthed.
‘This isn’t over,’ Mace whispered back.
Unbeknownst to Mace, this beef would last them at the very least:
Twelve more years.