Chapter Text
Perhaps claiming that Mace Windu is or will be his master was not Anakin’s brightest idea but it was the only one he could think of while suffering from a concussion.
Yoda continued laughing with tears now in his eyes, earning him a glare from Mace. He clearly did not find it as amusing as Yoda did, considering how much he paled.
He turned to Anakin and said, “I beg your pardon but perhaps I heard wrong, could you repeat that once more?”
“Master,” Anakin pointed at Mace, “Padawan,” He said pointing to himself. “You trained me.”
The Force was silent at Anakin’s words, neither proving them to be true or false. Mace sighed muttering, ‘Why did it have to be me?’
“This amused in ages I have not been,” Yoda said happily, much to Mace’s dismay. Anakin tried not to be too offended by Mace’s reaction toward having him as a padawan. “Come come, quick! To my chambers for tea we must go,” Yoda hobbled away at a speed that should be infeasible for a being his age.
Mace and Anakin looked at each other before the former scowled, trailing after Yoda leaving Anakin to catch up.
The three made for a weird sight to nearby Jedi—masters and padawans alike. Yoda was chuckling to himself, Mace looked as if he would pop a blood vessel, and Anakin was whistling an old cantina song.
“Come in, come in!” Yoda input a code at his door, becoming the two inside. “Make you some of my tea, I will!”
Yoda’s quarters were completely different to that of other Jedi. Unlike Anakin’s room which was littered with droid parts and random scraps of metal, Yoda’s living space had various species of plants and had a more homey feel to it.
Anakin found a seat on a small brown cushioned seat made for someone Yoda-sized. He probably made for a funny sight—someone of his stature squeezed into a tiny chair. The only thing that kept Anakin from complaining was that Mace looked equally as uncomfortable. If their awkwardness was clear on their face, Yoda paid them no mind. He placed a tray of tea and sat down on a seat opposite of them, he gestured at them to grab a cup—which they did but with much reluctance.
Mace sipped on Yoda’s godawful tea showing only a slight grimace at the taste. One would think he would be used to the taste after meeting so many times with Yoda, but that was just plain false. The only one who could ever enjoy that cursed tea was Yoda himself.
Anakin choked on his tea from a sudden urge to vomit. This beats Obi-Wan’s cooking. He never thought anything could taste worse than something made by his Master. As a padawan, Anakin had to always either cook for him and his Master or grab food from the dining hall. Anakin still vividly remembers how a month into his apprenticeship, Obi-Wan attempted to make dinner. He remembered waking up at the Halls of Healing begging his distraught master to never cook or go near a kitchen again.
“Like the tea do you, young Skywalker?” Yoda asked with a hopeful gaze.
“Yes, Master Yoda,” Anakin lied, tears in his eyes as he took another gulp, “It’s really good.”
Yoda smiled. He grabbed the kettle and refilled Anakin’s cup making the young Knight look as if he aged a few years. Mace shot him a look of sympathy and patted him on the shoulder. “First person you are to say so. Happy I am.”
“So, how did you find yourself here. . .padawan?” Mace asked curiously, making Anakin stunned. Never would he have thought that Mace kriffing Windu ever would refer to him with no annoyance in his voice. It was like imagining Obi-Wan shaving his beard or a young Palpatine. Both those were impossible. Anakin knew how long it took Obi-Wan to grow that beard and how much he took care of it. Whenever Anakin would point that out, his master would simply say as he was trimming his beard into perfection, ‘Vanity is not a quality befitting a Jedi, padawan.’ And a young Palpatine? Anakin was sure he was born old.
Anakin shook his head and snapped back to attention. “I was on a mission, Master. I’ll be honest and admit that it wasn’t looking in my favor. My ship was hit and it went down.”
“Strange? Did the force feel?” Yoda inquired, shifting in his seat and leaning in, eager to hear more. “Tell us more you must!” Everyone in the Order knew how nosey Yoda could be, but nobody dared mention it. It was common knowledge that no one admitted and turned a blind eye to.
“There’s not much else to tell, Master Yoda,” Anakin shook his head, “When I crashed I woke up here.”
Yoda rubbed his chin in thought. “Hmmm, very strange.”
Mace turned to look at Yoda. “What will we do now? We can’t publicly say he’s my padawan despite that being the truth. It wouldn’t add up.”
“A shadow he can be,” Yoda answered. He grabbed his cup and took a sip with much gusto that made Mace and Anakin both cringe. “Came back from a mission in the Outer Rim he did.”
“Hey, that could work,” Anakin pointed out. “Any information on shadows remains confidential and not always is there any information on them.”
“I suppose it could work. This plan isn’t perfect but it’s the best we have for now.” Mace conceded before turning to look seriously at Anakin. “This doesn’t mean I won’t support you, Anakin. Knighted or not, you are my padawan and my responsibility. I’m sure my future self is frantic with your disappearance.”
‘I’m sure my master is,’ Anakin thought of Obi-Wan’s reaction. If he found a way back to his time, Obi-Wan would kill him.
Anakin gave Mace an indecipherable look, feeling only a bit guilty at the lying. “You know, it really is strange having a normal conversation with you that doesn’t end up with you frustrated. . .Master.” He added to get a reaction from him.
“I’m starting to think you will be responsible for my future migraines.” Mace grieved, shaking his head. He looked frustrated enough that Anakin pitied him slightly, only a tiny bit because he felt mostly amused with Windu’s frustration.
“Now,” Yoda said, “To the healers, you should probably go. Keep you any longer, we should not.”