Master Apprentice Archive Mothers Day Quick search:

Archive: MA, or ask me

Category: Angst, Pre-Slash

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Summary: What happens to the families left behind?

Disclaimer: Characters belong to George Lucas. Apart from Obi`s mum.

Feedback: Yes please

Note: I understand it's Mothers Day this weekend in the US, so I've dug this little fic out from my hard drive to mark the occasion. As always, thanks to Master Cuimne who gives me encouragement and advice - you're the best, Master!

She came to the diner every day, not always at the same time, but certainly for at least an hour, often for longer. She could be seen sitting on the stool nearest the window, looking out in the direction of the famous Jedi Temple. Many tourists came to the area; the Jedi of Coruscant were a tourist attraction in their own right and although their temple was certainly not open to casual visitors, people stood gaping at the beautiful yet imposing structure or took cheap charter flights around its perimeter.

The woman in the diner was middle-aged, her dark hair greying now, her eyes red-rimmed and sad. She had been on Coruscant for over a year now, taking a job in an office at one of the many commercial enterprises - boring and repetitive work, but it gave her time to come to the diner for at least part of every day and sit watching the famous Jedi enter and leave their home.

When her husband had died last year, she knew she had to make this trip at last. All these years, waiting, wondering, the not knowing causing a hollow place inside her to grow.

The child had been born quickly, an uncomplicated birth after a healthy, wonderful pregnancy. She and her husband had been overjoyed to learn that they were to become parents, and she had made all the preparations for the new one's arrival. They were not particularly wealthy, but the child would have the best they could afford - a bright, cheerful nursery, colourful toys and stuffed animals around the shelves.

Looking back at that time should have brought smiles, but all she could feel was the pain. Everyone told her how wonderful it was that he had been chosen; her family, her husband, her friends. They came for him when he was almost three months old - sitting up, looking around, a happy smiling child. The calm, serious woman who took the boy didn't even smile as he was handed over to her. He didn't cry, but reached his small hands out back to his mother. She couldn't stay and watch. She had to leave her husband to finish the formalities involved in giving up their first-born, their only child. For she knew she could never go through it again, face losing another - a distinct possibility having had one Force-strong offspring. So she ensured that they had no more children.

Her friends, those mothers she had befriended during her pregnancy and afterwards, still came to see her, bringing their children with them, offering her congratulations every time they saw her, admiration at the honour of having a child taken by the Jedi.

The sight of these growing children, the same age as her missing boy, caused such pain.

Every year she quietly marked his birthday, wondered about his development - he should be learning to walk now; who would be holding out their arms to catch him as he tumbled over? Now he was of school age, but of course the Jedi did not go through formal schooling like normal children. Now he would be a young teenager, wanting some freedom, testing his limits. How do the Jedi deal with that? Are they so disciplined that their youngsters go through that difficult time without conflict?

She did not bring the subject of her son up very often, especially after the first few months. Her husband, hoping no doubt to spare her pain, gently steered the conversation away whenever she mentioned him. So she learned to keep her thoughts to herself, smile at her friends, appear to have accepted the situation. Sometimes, she even convinced herself of that acceptance.

Then when she had been left alone after the death of her husband, at last she was able to make the journey.

She knew that she would recognise the boy when, not if, she saw him, even though the image of him in her mind's eye was not clear. The baby did not have her own dark hair and eyes - he had inherited his father's colouring - pale red hair, no doubt darker now, and greyish-green eyes, pale skin, so sensitive to the sun, probably his father's build too - not very tall, yet strong, graceful. Oh yes, she would know her son when she saw him.

One sunny morning, the crowds were busier than usual milling around the entrance to the temple. Jedi could be seen entering and leaving - some singly, many in pairs or groups. She recognised some of the pairs as master and apprentice, the younger being following an older one, not speaking very often while they moved through the crowds but when the master spoke the young one would look intently, often nodding agreement.

Her boy would now be 17 years old, an apprentice to a Jedi master. Padawan, that was the word she had heard they used to describe their apprentices. The sight of a young human male padawan often set her heart racing. The Jedi generally had their heads covered with their hoods as they moved out of the temple, so she had to watch carefully for signs that she might recognise. The young humans all wore a long lock of hair braided over their shoulder, and generally this was visible outside their robes.

She asked herself as she gazed through the window of the diner just what was she going to do when she did see him. And as always, the answer was nothing. She had played a scene out in her mind many times where she would call out his name and he would turn, see her, smile in recognition and run towards her, arms open to embrace her ...

But she knew this was pure fantasy. Of course he would have no idea who she was, and she told herself that wouldn't matter - even though he would not know, she would have seen him, seen that he was at least content with the life they had given him away for. The Jedi she had seen never looked happy, but she could content herself knowing that he was well, that they were looking after him, and that he was facing his future, his destiny, confident and strong.

She recognised him straight away, as she knew she would. She "felt" him, even before they appeared, the master and his padawan, striding out of the temple through the crowds, on their way to some important destination. The master - tall, long hair tied back, was looking away from her towards his apprentice. They were deep in conversation, and the boy - no, young man - was listening attentively. The hood of his robe was down and the morning sunlight shone off his red hair.

Not knowing how she resisted the impulse to run to him and throw her arms around him, she simply froze, staring at the pair, not heeding the tears which had begun to fall down her cheeks.

She saw it then, as the boy looked up at his master: the love that shone in his eyes. Perhaps it was not visible to everyone, but she felt it with complete certainty in her heart - these two had such a close bond of love. Even though her son would never know the joys of marrying and bringing up his own family, she knew now that he would not mourn this loss because he was with the one he was meant to be with.

The Jedi pair made their way out of the area immediately before the diner and away, and she made no move to follow them. She left too. There was no need for her to stay.