There are few stories that are told among the Jedi Order long enough to become myth. Legend. It takes importance to stand the test of time that way. A lesson has to be learned.
Anakin and Circe's story is told for generations long after they are go...
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"Anakin!" Chancellor Palpatine says warmly, "I'm happy to see that your friend has returned safely. I'm sure she's happy to be back."
Anakin breathes out a sigh, forcing a warm smile despite how uneasy he feels. "Yes, sir, she's very happy to be home."
He finds himself in the Chancellor's office once more. Since Circe has been back, the Council has filled her days with debrief meetings and errands to make up for her leaving Phaedris behind, which means Anakin is left with spare time on his hands. He has spent much of it traveling through the city, climbing the stairs in front of the Republic Executive Building, and meeting with his new mentor.
Palpatine has taken an interest in his life. They've spent afternoons talking. Talking over the droids that bring cups of tea to and from his desk, talking as papers are brought in for signing, talking while the sun seems to fly across the sky and dip below the horizon. The time seems to soar by, as though the whole day were squeezed down into mere hours. Anakin longs to talk about himself in this way; to share moments of his innermost thoughts and feeling without fear or judgement or moral lessons following. It is a soothing break from the expectations and disapproval of the Order.
He has begun to find himself holding his breath during the time he is home with the Jedi. Waiting to steal away to the Chancellor's and let his worries, excitements, wins, and failings fall upon someone else. But the disappointment from the Council, when they accused him of slipping from the Light of the Jedi, has stayed on his mind like a cloud. He is nervous to bring this up. Palpatine can tell.
"You want to ask me about the things I taught you. I can see it behind your eyes," He says, watching the young Jedi carefully.
Anakin chooses his words slowly. "I'm grateful, Chancellor. You must know how much you've helped me." He says, "Given the option to go back and trust your guidance again, I would do it a million times over."
"But something went wrong?"
He shifts uneasily, unsure about how to ask what he wants to know. He needs to know if what they told him was true, if Palpatine has set him on a path towards Darkness, but he is frightened of offending the older, more powerful man. He needs his help in keeping his beloved Circe safe.
His dream haunts him. He lies awake at night, tortured by the feeling of losing her again. He fears that if he holds her too tightly, she'll slip from his grasp, the way a bird jumps from your hands the longer you try to keep it trapped. Cages do not suit her. Anakin cannot possibly protect her alone; she will throw herself against the walls of any box he tries to put her in.
"Well," said Palpatine, the tone of his voice edging annoyance, "Let's hear it, my boy. You're not here to exchange pleasantries. You're here to complain? Or you're interested in acquiring more knowledge the Jedi will not teach you."
"Why didn't you tell me the truth about why the Jedi don't teach us the old magic?"
