Legend :: Chapter Three :: Legends in the Stars

Title: Legend
Rating: PG-13 for now - might go up to R
Genre: Adventure, Romance
Pairing: Obi-Wan/OC, Anakin/Padmé, Shmi/Kit Fisto/Aayla Secura
Time Period: AU
Main Characters: Obi-Wan, Anakin, Padmé, OC, Kit Fisto & Aayla Secura

Summary: A drastic re-envisioning of Star Wars set in a medieval world. Caught between two feuding Kingdoms & the imperative task of rescuing Princess Amidala, Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi is forced to enlist the unlikely aid of a young tavern boy by the name of Anakin Skywalker. Please R & R!



Legend
Legends in the Stars

Anakin Skywalker leaned against the frost splintered window-panes of the King's Ransom, a distant look in his normally bright eyes. The tips of the Flaming Mountains were blazing in the early morning glow of sunrise - they rose like giants from the bare scrub of the Backwater plains. Anakin pressed his nose up against the steamed glass and briefly wondered why the frost never touched the hills there. As a young lad he had been so ready to believe the old drifter Kit’s outlandish tales of the 100 year battle that had once been fought there. It had been a terrible civil war between the Gungan folk and the people of Naboo and the fires from the conflict still burned to the day.

Or so Kit said. Everyday Anakin was finding it harder to simply believe. He was a young man now and he needed to see for himself. As long as he could remember he had ached for adventure. He wanted more than anything to become a grand explorer and rid himself of the repetitive life he lived inthe quaint, backwater village; breaking his back under Watto’s apprenticeship.

So caught up in thoughts of grandeur was Anakin that he barely heard his mother arguing with the gruff tavern keeper in the kitchens.

"Watto, I wish you wouldn’t worry me," Shmi chided, walking swiftly into the room, her dark eyes scanning for something to clean. "What with all the trouble nowadays I don’t want to hear any more talk of outlanders!"

Anakin suddenly looked intrigued. "Has there been any word from the Naboo?"

Watto grunted. "Heh, there were some people in ‘ere last night from dee City. They say her royal Princess will be shipped off to Coruscant soon," he chuckled, "less stuck-up rich girls there are in the world the better if you ask me, ah?"

"Watto!" Shmi reproached. "How can you say such a thing? I feel terribly for that poor girl."

Anakin had to agree with Watto, however. The news disappointed him. He wanted to hear news of great battles and the impending war between the Pirating Separatists and the Free Kingdoms of the Republic - not the marriage of some snooty girl who had lived in the lap of luxury all her life.

"A little break away from the palace will probably do her Mightiness some good," Anakin blurted before he could catch himself, causing Watto to choke on his ale with laughter. Shmi sent him a dirty look but before she could begin berating him a distant, familiar voice rang outside in the frosty morning.

"Oh, the rare ol’ whale,
mid storm and gale,
In his ocean home will be!"

Anakin immediately perked up at the familiar song and deep, coarse voice. He leapt from his place by the window and bolted across the rickety floorboards, narrowly avoiding a sloping table in his hurry. He threw the tavern door open just in time to greet the familiar old seadog swaggering down the cobbled street towards the King's Ransom. Kit Fisto was a bizarre looking creature for these Backwater lands with his rubbery green skin and tangle of flexible tentacle tresses which extended from the top of his head.

"A Giant in might,
where might is right
And King of the boundless sea!
‘O! King of the boundless sea!"

Grinning broadly as his song finished, the hulking great man enveloped Anakin in a tight embrace, nearly squeezing the life out of him. "Annie, my boy! Why you’re almost as tall as me lad!"

Anakin was grinning from ear to ear and quivering all over with excitement. "Kit, where 'ave you been? Have you any more maps? Did you find treasure? In your last letter you said you met the Hutts! You weren’t pullin’ my leg were you?"

Kit gave a hearty chuckle and patted him on the back. "All in good time Annie, all in good time. Now, where’s that lovely mother of yours?" Kit’s large unblinking eyes turned to the tavern door, now occupied by Shmi. Her arms were folded and a frown creased her delicate features.

"Really Kit, what sort of a song is that to sing in the street? You’ll scare our customers away." she chided.

"Don’t you ah listen to her, Keet! You’re welcome ‘ere any time!" Watto announced, his little wings beating excitedly as he hovered over to greet his old friend with a hearty slap on the back. "Come inside! Come inside! First drink’s on thee house of course!"


~*<@>*~


The city's stench was always at it's worst by the river. This was ironic, Obi-Wan mused while picking his way across the bustling wooden crossing, as the city had been given life by the river - indeed that was the reason it was there at all. He could only just glimpse the yawning mouth of the river, which emptied into a grey sea, through the tangle of ropes and masts of anchored ships. He risked a fleeting glance at the oozing brown water below. A floating red garment confirmed Obi-Wan’s suspicions; at night it was a watery highway of horror.

Leading his nervous steed by the reigns, Obi-Wan descended the wooden bridge and stepped out onto the grimy streets of Slash City – a title earned from the colourful variety of beings it harboured. Most had forgotten the Capital’s original title.

Snow trickled down from a leaden grey sky but did not linger for long on the muddy walkways. Before long Obi-Wan’s boots were caked in a thick, slushy mud. He grimaced and concentrated on guiding his steed through the bustling throng of people, all intent on keeping their faces covered. They continued sloshing down the main street for a good ten minutes, passing run-down structures surprisingly full of life and warm inns or tavernas, which beckoned to weary travellers. Delicious smells wafted out of wooden shutters, caressing his senses - but Obi-Wan was no fool. He had sampled more than a few of these steaming hot dishes, only to wind up thoroughly regretting it a few hours later.

At long last he reached a small cobbled alleyway which opened out onto a quieter, less hostile, road. It was mainly a residential area dotted with quiet inns and the occasional food stall. Unfortunately for the cautious Knight, he was heading to the one gauzy taverna left in the vicinity.

He stopped before a tatty, run-down structure. Any outsider would think it an insignificant and lacklustre little hostelry. But the White Rabbit was a haven to the rats of the underground and those who wished to do business on neutral territory – for no one dared cross the tavern keeper. Dexter Jettster held an intimidating semblance.

But if nothing else the White Rabbit had always been an important point for the Guardians. Before the dark times one Knight had taken it upon him to find a safe haven, fearing grave visions of the future. The White Rabbit was now a place of safety and refuge - and more than that, an assembly point.

Above the door a battered sign swung on rusty hinges. Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose at the crude image; a definably female white rabbit, draped in silky purple clothe, held a slender wineglass overflowing with grapes.

Obi-Wan shook his head and smiled hopelessly. 'Only Qui-Gon would choose to rendezvous in such a place.'


~*<@>*~


The orange flames in the fireplace crackled and burned brightly, adding to the atmosphere of the old seadog's stories as the shadows flickered and flashed against the rubbery green skin of his face. Outside the grim winter evening threatened a gale and the fire's warmth was a most welcome substitute from the steely cold.

"So there the Hutt had me, pinned to the mast like a ragdoll in one meaty fist," Kit rasped, his arms flailing wildly as he reached the climax of his story, "I twisted and turned but to no avail! I thought fer sure the blighter ‘ad me this time,"

Once or twice Watto had been forced to dive quite suddenly in order to catch a falling jug, which had been sent flying by the excitable Nautolan. Shmi stood behind the bar, serving what few customers they had with a stiff demeanour or searching hastily for something to clean. She utterly refused to partake in Kit's courageous stories of high seas and grand adventure.

"Complete and utter waffle," she muttered under her breath.

Kit looked up from his captivated audience. "What was that my dear?" he enquired, smiling sweetly. His black eyes shone with innocent curiosity as if he had missed her comment.

"Why I don't believe I said anything Kit," she replied and returned his sweet smile.

Kit turned towards his youthful audience, the single member of which sat cross-legged and wide-eyed on the hearth. He ruffled Anakin's already dishevelled hair. "I'm going to talk to your mother for a while Annie. Sit tight."

"But Kit, you haven't told me how you escaped Jencen the Hutt," he pouted, "or how you plundered his treasure-trove," Anakin protested, only to be answered by a backhanded smack across the head.

"Don't you ah trouble our oldest and dearest customer, you little toe-rat!" Watto hissed fiercely in his ear. "Go scrub'a thee steps," he ordered. "Now!"

"But the steps are covered in ice!" Anakin retorted defiantly, irritated and embarrassed at having been reprimanded in front of his greatest hero.

"Then you'da better scrub hard!" Watto barked before twisting around to face Kit with a sugary sweet smile. "Well now Keet, let me get you another drink ah?"

Anakin watched disdainfully as his Master slapped Kit's shoulder, shamelessly attempting to wean more credits from the drifter. With a sigh he grabbed the splintered handle of a mop and a moth-eaten cloth and slumped outside.

His back soon began to ache as he sat hunched over the filthy stone steps leading into the King's Ransom. The sky overhead began to darken as the grim evening progressed. He threw away the grimy cloth and fell backwards onto the hard, frosty street. The hard cobbles did little to ease his aching back.

Anakin turned his attention to the sky now littered with stars and sparkling brighter than the rainbow gems of Gallinore. He began to pick out constellations, recalling the ancient tales Kit had told him of the Jedi and the Sith. Amongst the stars he envisioned the redemption of Ulic Qel-Droma and the Great Beast Wars in the West. His sharp eyes flicked from constellation to constellation, his mind a whirr as it raced to match the right story to each cluster of stars.

Finally his bright eyes settled upon his favourite constellation; the tragic figure of Nomi Sunrider. He had always thought her beautiful, even amongst the resplendent stars. Nomi had gone against the sacred Jedi code and pledged her love to another Knight, Andur Sunrider. While voyaging through the Hutt infested seas they had been attacked by a pirate ship captained by the ruthless cut-throat pirate Bogga the Hutt. Andur was slain and died in Nomi's arms and she had carried on to live his dream and became one of the legendary Jedi Knights of the Stone Temple.

As he gazed admirably at the noble constellation of stars, his eyes began to blur and an overwhelming drowsiness suddenly took hold of him. When he tried to clear his vision Sunrider's constellation had disappeared and in its place was the most exceptionally beautiful woman he had ever seen. A simple golden circlet adorned her head and long dark hair spilled over her slender shoulders in loose ringlets. Her warm brown eyes held intelligence and a strong will but Anakin could also see great sadness in her beauty. Curiosity and pity instantly claimed him, but just as suddenly as he'd slipped into the glorious vision was he pulled out again and into the land of the living.

Kit was peering down at him from the doorway. "You alright lad?" he asked, his rubbery green face etched in concern. "You're a bit pale in the face."

Anakin pulled himself up into a sitting position and ran a hand through his dishevelled sandy hair.

"I'm fine Kit. Only I," he paused and suddenly found he could not reply. How would he explain the vision properly without sounding daft as a dewback? "I lost my footing on the steps and slipped," he muttered hurriedly and pretended to turn his full attention on gathering the frost at the foot of the steps. He hated lying to Kit and had a nagging feeling that the old vagabond tell.

Kit Fisto heaved a heavy sigh and took a seat beside the young man. "Anakin, let me give you a piece of advice. Those stars up there, the acts of bravery, the terrible wars they represent - no one in those stars went looking for trouble. There are many different adventures to be had but a hero does not crave them. He fulfils great deeds because he must, not because he yearns for the praise and glory or the thrill of exploration." Kit laid a hand on Anakin's shoulder and smiled fondly. "You'd better calm that stubborn head of yours if our paths are to run on the same road for a time."

Anakin goggled at the old seadog. Never before had he heard Kit sound so serious, nor look so focused and Anakin felt his admiration for the drifting vagabond suddenly escalate.

"Does this mean you'll give me an apprenticeship?" Anakin asked, his eyes bright with anticipation.

Kit laid one large, callous hand on the young man's head and ruffled his hair. "Only if you're up for it lad."

Anakin's cold breath puffed around him in a cloud of excitement. He felt as though his voice had turned to sand and trickled down his throat.

"W-wizard," he rasped.

Kit's only reply was a small, despondent smile and vaguely Anakin wondered why he was so oddly composed. However, nothing could upset the feeling of exhilaration rising inside of him.

"When do we leave?" he asked.

"Tomorrow morning," Kit stated. "We'll ride for Capital City to meet some friends of mine."

Anakin nearly choked. "Tomorrow morning!"

"Yes, so you had better be in Watto's good books 'til then Annie. He gave me orders for you to pick up a keg of ale in the next village over. We've had word of a band of potential customers riding through here for Capital city," he grinned at the boy, "so you had better get going."

Nothing in the world could have crushed Anakin's spirit at that moment. All his dreams and questions of the future had been answered. In weeks to come he would be reading maps, battling cut-throat pirates and foul Togorian beasts with sharpened claws as long as his arm. Perhaps they would even come across one of the illustrious Jedi sorcerers of the Stone Temple.

Soon he was bounding down the cobbled streets, leaving grand visions of the future in his wake. "You have my word Kit, I'll be the greatest apprentice any explorer has ever had," he called over his shoulder. "I promise you won't regret it!"

Kit Fisto watched as the flickering lamplight caught the last glimpse of the boy as he disappeared into darkness. "I know I won’t lad,"

A harsh wind swept through the streets, chilling the drifter to the bone. The Flaming Mountains were barely visible beneath the pale moonlight. Kit's sharp eyesight peered through the dark beyond the Backwater plains. Something in the hard winter night gave dread to those hills. The softly lit window of the King's Ransom drew his attention to where Shmi Skywalker gazed wistfully after her son.

'I know I won’t.'

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