[ Claude actually steers them towards the outsides and Anakin follows his lead with a sense of quiet dread (mixed in with some excitement that he very staunchly isn't thinking about), knowing full well that going outside in the cold wearing nothing on your upper body tends to make things... slightly... Kriff, there's another item to the list. He shrugs right out of his cloak once more, deciding that forestalling is best, and throws it over Claude's shoulders haphazardly before stepping in front of him to open the door.
Do you like being a Jedi.
Do you like.
The rest of Claude's elaboration sort of slips past his ears, some of the words lost to the churning in his stomach, the question unexpectedly hard to contemplate. He frowns, holding the door for the other man and waiting for him to pass by, the cold drifting in from outside making his breath stick in his throat for a second. Though he's spent many years away from Tatooine now and flown in space countless times, his body remains sensitive to cold weather. Everything outside of blazing heat - desert, dry, twin suns and dunes without shade - is always at least a few degrees below his comfort zone.
As he steps outside behind the other man, he thinks the question over again.
You tell me.
Well. There's only one thing to tell, surely. Anakin is a Jedi. He was meant to be one, according to some and if nothing else, he's got the powers to go with the job, doesn't he? He's meant to be here. Back straightening a fraction, he slips his hands behind his back, fingers folded in a tight grip. ]
Of course I like it.
[ The words feel dry and he adds quickly, voice unintentionally sharp: ]
The Jedi philosophy is about showing compassion. About peace-keeping. It's what I want to do.
[ He thinks about the war, about Obi-Wan fighting on the front lines as they speak. About his marriage, at an uneasy standstill now, lies on top of lies. Do you like being a Jedi, Claude asked, and he does, he likes it. It's just never... it matters, what comes out of it. What he accomplishes, how the world changes as a consequence.
[ It's the way Anakin drops his robe on him, haphazardly, like he's predicting Claude's next move three steps ahead - outside is cold, after all, and one guard against the cold is more clothes - which makes Claude think something strange to himself. Anakin is acting like Claude's servants back on Paris, letting him step out first like that - his servants who are making his bed in the morning, preparing his lunch, laying out his things at the right time, in the correct order. Sure, it could be a Jedi trait, but nowhere in the description Anakin gives of his life as a Jedi does it say servitude. Compassion and peace-keeping, something that's hard enough to believe, right? In these times. But not that kind of service.
He remembers Dia's introduction of privilege clearly still. And he thinks, for someone with the kind of powers they hone in the Jedi Order, Anakin doesn't strike him as someone with a lot of it.
Once he's stepped outside, just far enough that Anakin can follow easily and not block the entrance for anyone else wanting to come out here, he turns towards the other man, gathering the heavy fabric of his robe around himself, the scent of him right where they left off, but feeling somehow warmer in the chill. Heavier. Musky. Masculine. The Jedi come from all over the galaxy, they herald from different planets, systems, species. What unites them is not anything like that, it's - as Anakin says, their philosophy. Their belief.
And they are not making themselves popular in this war, but war makes no one popular except the ones benefiting from it. Considering that for a moment, Claude frowns. ]
I don't find that hard to believe. [ You've helped me twice already, twice and counting, it means. A shrug, and he carries on, holding on to his point, because he's used to arguing his case and besides, it's an important distinction to make - the philosophy you wanna live by and the reality that philosophy has to accommodate. It's always the same. The monarchy was built on a foundation of wanting to govern the people justly, too. What it is now, he doesn't kriffing know anymore... ] It's just, sometimes what we want to do isn't what we end up doing, despite our best intentions.
[ Walking over to the balustrade, he gives Anakin time to decide whether to follow, how closely, how soon. Slowly, he leans his elbows on the railing, looking out over the city planet at night. ]
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Do you like being a Jedi.
Do you like.
The rest of Claude's elaboration sort of slips past his ears, some of the words lost to the churning in his stomach, the question unexpectedly hard to contemplate. He frowns, holding the door for the other man and waiting for him to pass by, the cold drifting in from outside making his breath stick in his throat for a second. Though he's spent many years away from Tatooine now and flown in space countless times, his body remains sensitive to cold weather. Everything outside of blazing heat - desert, dry, twin suns and dunes without shade - is always at least a few degrees below his comfort zone.
As he steps outside behind the other man, he thinks the question over again.
You tell me.
Well. There's only one thing to tell, surely. Anakin is a Jedi. He was meant to be one, according to some and if nothing else, he's got the powers to go with the job, doesn't he? He's meant to be here. Back straightening a fraction, he slips his hands behind his back, fingers folded in a tight grip. ]
Of course I like it.
[ The words feel dry and he adds quickly, voice unintentionally sharp: ]
The Jedi philosophy is about showing compassion. About peace-keeping. It's what I want to do.
[ He thinks about the war, about Obi-Wan fighting on the front lines as they speak. About his marriage, at an uneasy standstill now, lies on top of lies. Do you like being a Jedi, Claude asked, and he does, he likes it. It's just never... it matters, what comes out of it. What he accomplishes, how the world changes as a consequence.
What he can do to make it. ]
no subject
He remembers Dia's introduction of privilege clearly still. And he thinks, for someone with the kind of powers they hone in the Jedi Order, Anakin doesn't strike him as someone with a lot of it.
Once he's stepped outside, just far enough that Anakin can follow easily and not block the entrance for anyone else wanting to come out here, he turns towards the other man, gathering the heavy fabric of his robe around himself, the scent of him right where they left off, but feeling somehow warmer in the chill. Heavier. Musky. Masculine. The Jedi come from all over the galaxy, they herald from different planets, systems, species. What unites them is not anything like that, it's - as Anakin says, their philosophy. Their belief.
And they are not making themselves popular in this war, but war makes no one popular except the ones benefiting from it. Considering that for a moment, Claude frowns. ]
I don't find that hard to believe. [ You've helped me twice already, twice and counting, it means. A shrug, and he carries on, holding on to his point, because he's used to arguing his case and besides, it's an important distinction to make - the philosophy you wanna live by and the reality that philosophy has to accommodate. It's always the same. The monarchy was built on a foundation of wanting to govern the people justly, too. What it is now, he doesn't kriffing know anymore... ] It's just, sometimes what we want to do isn't what we end up doing, despite our best intentions.
[ Walking over to the balustrade, he gives Anakin time to decide whether to follow, how closely, how soon. Slowly, he leans his elbows on the railing, looking out over the city planet at night. ]