My Very Soul - skywalkerog (2024)

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Warnings: light bullying, that's it

Summary: You, a youngling at the Jedi temple, meet an unexpected visitor.

Word Count:3.3k

You were awoken by a cool light pushing against your closed eyelids. The light of Coruscant still felt new to you, and each morning as it made its way through the blinds covering the large windows above the bunks, it still woke you, the harsh burn in your eyes bringing you out of your slumber. You opened your eyes and put a hand up, trying to block some of the light from shining on your face. Around you, you felt sleeping presences, heard the snores and light movements of the early morning. The light had woken you, but it was not yet time to rise.

You tried to stop yourself from dwelling on your dreams, but it was difficult. The blue light hurting your eyes reminded you of the dark, damp coolness of your home, the place you'd left behind. It was the place you had been instructed not to let your thoughts stick to, in reminiscence, but this was all still new to you—the lights, the sounds of the city, the coldness of the temple, its huge walls and columns hard to the touch. At home, everything was soft—the grass, the mud, the damp mossy walls of your humble dwelling, your mother's embrace. You pushed the tears from your eyes quietly, trying not to make a sound that would let the other younglings know you were awake. You knew you were not to think of your mother in this way, that you were to try to separate yourself from attachment to specific beings. You knew that you should be considering your attachment to the whole—the collectivity of all life. This, you'd been instructed, was a holier way of being, a way more respectful of the sanctity of all things.

It was hard. You missed Batuu, yes, but you missed your mother most, even though it had been years since you'd been chosen. You missed her warm body curling around yours, the feel and smell of her hair falling over you as you snuggled into her arms; you missed your father's booming laugh. You worked hard to remember these things, even though you knew you shouldn't. You didn’t want to forget where you'd come from. Some of the older Padawans said it was inevitable—that soon all you would remember was the temple, the Jedi, your new life—but you hoped they were wrong. You hoped you would be able to remember everything.

A soft beeping noise coming from the panel on the wall broke you out of this cloud of thought, and you felt the others around you begin to rise out of their bunks. You did the same, sleepily stretching your arms, pretending that you, too, had just awoken to the sound of the alarm.

"What time is it?" Eha asked sleepily, the bunk below yours shifting under you.

"We've got about ten minutes," Yumi croaked from a bunk across the room.

"Just about enough time for Y/N to cry some more about her mommy," Dallum quipped from across the room, smirking in your direction.

"Shut up, Dal," Eha snapped back, throwing her pillow at him.

"I'll shut up when you make me," Dallum replied, his smirk turning coy as he looked back at Eha, catching her pillow, and making a show of giving it a big, sloppy kiss.

"That's disgusting!" Eha whined, running over and grabbing her pillow back from Dallum's grasp. "You have the charm of a Korosian pig."

"Enough, you guys. We're expected in the mess hall in like, 7 minutes, and we need to meet protocol," Henry urged, shushing the group. Henry was already 13, and everyone listened to him, even Dallum. Though Henry still hadn't been chosen to become a Padawan, you knew it was only a matter of time. He was talented, and it was unlikely the Jedi would subjugate him to the lesser labor of Agri-Corps or one of those other Temple jobs for young unclaimed Jedi of Padawan age. You swallowed, hard, wondering what it would be like when he left. Henry kept a firm hold on the group. He never allowed the bullying to get out of hand, always made sure everyone remembered the code. If he left, Dallum would be the oldest in your group. You quickly shook these thoughts from your head, running a brush through your thick and unruly hair, trying to tame it. You quickly wrapped your tunic, splashing some water on your face.

"Y/N, your belt is a complete mess," Eha told you, coming over to help you adjust your tunic.

"Thanks," you responded. Eha was the closest thing you had to a friend in the temple, though friend might be a bit of a stretch. Eha was two years older than you, and the only one apart from Henry who didn't actively avoid you, or make fun of you, or fight dirty so as to beat you during training. Of course, Yumi and the others weren't nasty to your face, but your uncanny understanding of the Force and ability to interpret other's thoughts and feelings was sometimes more of a curse than a blessing. You knew they resented you, and you knew why. No one liked having their privacy invaded. But you couldn't help your Force abilities.

In the mess hall, properly attired and groomed, the younglings walked single file to their table in the corner, grabbing their portions and making sure to stay out of the way of the other Jedi, the Knights and their Padawans not currently out on assignment. You ate quietly, having a hard time stomaching the food this morning. Something felt off to you, but you couldn't pinpoint why. Your thoughts dwelled again on your mother, and you closed your eyes, feeling the strength of your desire to see her grow in your mind. This was uncommon for you—if anything, your thoughts of home had been fading as of late, seeing as you'd been at the Temple for three years now. You'd been selected when you were only 5. It's inevitable, you remembered hearing your father say. Her abilities are so obvious, to everyone. It's only a matter of time before they come for her. You hadn't understood what he'd meant, at the time. You tried to force down a bite of porridge. Why these feelings were plaguing you today, you didn't know. You felt a ripple in the Force, and you didn't understand it.

After breakfast, you waited with the other younglings outside of the combat training room. You dreaded entering. It wasn't that you feared being bested by your classmates. It was that you feared how they would treat you, after another round of practice.

"Enter," you all heard a voice say from inside the chamber, and you entered, your lightsabers at your hips. You were one of the younger ones in this grouping—only Seeva was your contemporary, both of you just 7 years old when you'd found your kyber crystrals and moved up into this class. Seeva's lightsaber was green, and yours a brilliant blue. At 8-years-old, you should have a disadvantage in a class like this, with those like Henry, Dallum, and Yumi, who were approaching their teenage years. But you knew the Force didn't work like that. The class entered the room, and, as practiced, you stood in your spot, spaced away from the other younglings, taking your saber from your belt and lighting it.

"Along with me," Master Drallig instructed calmly, and together, the class marked through the variations and positions, moving slowly. Master Drallig began at the front of the room, marking the positions along with you, and then holstered his saber, walking amongst you and correcting form, posture, and style.

"Correct, Y/N," Master Drallig said as he passed you, and you felt from behind you a smirk from Dal, though you didn't turn around to see it. You concentrated on holding your saber straight, on strengthening your arm muscles, on breathing in the Force. The more you breathed, the more you felt the pain of loss surrounding you—your thoughts turned to your mother, your father, but then they shifted, feeling like sand swirling around you, the loss threatening to suffocate you.

"Y/N," Master Drallig said calmly, and you opened your eyes as all the other younglings giggled. "It's time for combat practice." You blushed, realizing that the others in the class were already leaning against the far wall, you having been so wrapped up in your meditative state that you remained in the center of the room, holding your lightsaber in position.

"Sorry, Master," you said sheepishly, feeling your face grow hot. You holstered your saber and joined the other younglings against the wall.

"Today we will focus on the Makashi form," Master Drallig instructed. You sighed. You favored the Makashi, but you knew others didn't feel the same. It was the second form you'd learned, but still one of the most difficult, as it focused on lighter movements. Your ability to read your opponent would come in handy as you practiced this variation.

"Henry. Yumi. You first," Master Drallig said, gesturing for the two younglings to take their place in the center of the room. Lightsabers drawn, they bowed to one another, before raising their blades.

"You may begin," Master Drallig said, and they began circling one another, their blades clashing in the air. Henry's green saber hit against Yumi's yellow in quick movements, as Yumi jumped high over her opponent. The fight was almost evenly matched, and Master Drallig gave quiet corrections as the two fighters moved throughout the circle in the center of the room. In the end, though, Henry's skill won out. Yumi's saber went flying away from her, and the younglings on the wall jumped out of the way to avoid its blade. Henry held his saber up to Yumi, implicitly asking her to yield. She bowed, and went to collect her saber, looking as if she were trying to hide her frustration.

"Very good, Henry," Master Drallig encouraged. "Y/N, you next, please." You gulped. You could feel the tension in the room rise, if only slightly, as the other younglings watched you, a petite 8-year-old with messy hair, walk to face the 13-year-old boy standing in front of you. Polite as ever, Henry bowed, and you did the same, unholstering your saber and holding it out in front of you. You took a deep breath, drawing in the energy in the room, allowing it to enter your veins, to help you to focus.

"Begin," Master Drallig said, and with that, Henry crossed the room quickly, attacking swiftly and precisely with his saber. You leapt to the side to avoid his blade, circling around with yours, watching the two sabers hit and bounce off one another. You moved around the boy with your saber twirling, faster than his, as he again remained on the offensive, stepping lightly from side to side. You blocked his blows, breathing in again, sensing the desire behind his cultivated façade. He felt a need to prove himself. He wanted to beat you, you could feel it. With his desire you also felt his intentions, and you jumped into the air, flipping over him again and again, flying through the Force as if without effort, twirling your blade.

The Makashi form, you thought, was one of the more beautiful combat variations. Stepping lightly, moving through the air as if in dance, you had no problem avoiding Henry's saber blade. It was not difficult for you to push him off with the Force, refusing his efforts to draw your lightsaber from your hand. As fast as lightspeed, you found yourself behind his back, your saber resting above his shoulder. He was beat.

"Excellent, Y/N," Master Drallig said in a reassuring tone. As Henry bowed to you, you saw a hint of anger in his eyes, but you could read him well enough to know the anger was not directed at you. Henry was the type to focus inward, and you knew he felt in himself that he had failed, and that his anger was self-directed. You sighed. You knew what would happen next before it occurred.

"Dallum, you're up," Master Drallig instructed. You stood, a foot shorter than the boy who walked up to you now, thicker than Henry, none of the politeness in his eyes. You bowed to him, and he did the same to you, smirking. You both held up your sabers, his white blade facing your blue.

"You may begin," Master Drallig said, and you knew before it happened that Dallum would swing his blade down at you, hard. You leapt to avoid it, and you felt Dallum's anger grow as he again swung downward at you, pushing his blade with the Force toward your arm. This, you knew, was not the Makashi form, and you heard Master Drallig's quiet corrections go unnoticed in Dallum's mind. You could feel his anger, this time directed only at you, feel his desire to put you in your place. You breathed in the Force, jumping around Dallum with more ease than you had done Henry. Your lightsaber twirled, but still, you did not take the offensive position. You felt no need to prove yourself to a boy like this. As you whirled around, Dallum lowered his saber, instead reaching out a fist and catching your throat.

You heard a gasp from the class as you hit the floor, unable to avoid Dallum's illegal blow, as you had not been expecting it. Your lightsaber clattered from your hand.

"Dallum," Master Drallig warned, his calm voice cracking a bit. Younglings were not allowed to fight with fists or the like during training—there was no hitting or kicking allowed while learning saber combat. You felt the Jedi Master in his indignation, saw through his eyes that he felt the lack of justice in the use of physical retaliation against a much smaller, much younger opponent.

"I know, I know," Dallum said begrudgingly. "I'll go wait outside your chambers."

"I'll be along shortly," Master Drallig replied, closing his eyes in controlled disappointment. The Master turned to you. "Y/N, are you all right?"

"Ye—" you tried to answer, but your throat didn't seem to want to make the sound. Dal's fist had hit you hard in your air pipe. Master Drallig bent down to help you up.

"You are to end your combat training early, today," Master Drallig told you, and you nodded, eager to get out of that room. "We will expect you in the meditation gardens this afternoon." You nodded again, feeling the tears rubbing behind your eyes. You could feel the looks of judgement from the other younglings, could feel their resentment. No one resented Seeva, the other 8-year-old, but that was likely because she was one of the worst in the class. And she should be, you knew the others thought. They'd been here longer, been training longer than you had, and every time you beat them in combat, the resentment grew. Even Henry, even Eha, those who had such good hearts, who tried their hardest to push aside their competitive tendencies, got annoyed when confronted with your skill. You had no friends here, and you knew you never would.

You walked out of the training room, finally letting a few tears fall from your face, rubbing your throat. Though the blow had hurt, what hurt more was the feeling of isolation you now felt—as if you were alone on a spaceship, in the middle of space, no one around for miles. You again felt a sense of loss, of loneliness, of unfamiliarity through the Force. As you walked—where you were headed, you didn’t know—you felt this ripple in the current around you grow. This puzzled you.

"Wait here, Anakin," you heard from in front of you, and you jumped, startled out of your thoughts. "I need to speak with Master Yoda." Ahead of you, you saw Obi-Wan Kenobi, one of the newer Knights, walking with a small boy you'd never seen before, one wearing a ragged tunic, with sandy blonde hair. As you watched, Master Kenobi left the boy to sit on a bench, and hurried in the direction of Master Yoda's quarters. It wasn't that the boy looked sad—in fact, the look on his face was respectful, timid—but you felt through the Force an immense and complicated feeling coming from him, a galaxy of emotions. You felt the loss, you felt the fear, you felt a sense of longing for a mother. You again felt the feeling of sand swirling around you, and with the sand, sadness. You recognized now that the feelings you had sensed all morning originated at this point—in this presence—and you wondered how it could be possible that one boy could disrupt the Force currents of the entire Temple. You felt yourself walking forward toward this boy, the feeling of reading his presence mystifying you. You didn't realize how close you'd gotten until he looked up.

"Are you an angel?" he asked, looking you over, his blue eyes crinkling in confusion. You heard a presence in his voice that shocked you—as if he were speaking complete and utter truth and sincerity, with no pretense. As if he were channeling life, without even meaning to.

"What?" you asked, moving closer to the bench on which he sat.

"An angel. I heard the deep space pilots talk about them." The boy clicked his feet together on the bench, looking up at you only with earnestness. "They're the most beautiful creatures in the universe. They live on the moons of Iego, I think..." The boy trailed off, suddenly looking away, blushing.

"You're a strange little boy," you said, watching him. You expected he was around your age, but you knew all of the younglings in the temple. Who was this boy, and what was he doing here? "What's your name?"

"Anakin," he said, looking back to you with a pout.

"I'm Y/N," you said, sitting down next to him on the bench, your curiosity overpowering you. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm waiting for Master Kenobi. He...he's going to ask the council if he can train me, now that Master Qui-Gon..." the boy trailed off again, hanging his head. You understood. You'd heard of Master Qui-Gon's death—the news had spread through the entire temple. Some of the older younglings, Dallum among them, tried to scare the younger ones with tales of a painted warrior, with horns and yellow eyes. You didn't believe such rumors.

"Where did you come from, Anakin?"

"Tatooine," he answered, and you felt again the feeling of deep space, of loss, of longing through the Force. "Master Obi-Wan said he will take me on as his Padawan, now that Master Qui-Gon isn't...isn't around to train me."

"Padawan?" you asked, astonished. "But you're so young?"

Anakin shrugged, and didn't answer. You looked to him. He looked dirty, as if he'd never visited a proper refresher. His arms were folded.

"I'm glad to have met you," he said, turning back to you. "I hope you'll remember me, if—"

"Anakin," you heard Master Obi-Wan say, and you both jumped as he approached. "Anakin, we must go," Obi-Wan instructed impatiently. The Jedi Knight turned to look at you, and his face softened.

"Run along to training, young one," he told you, and you didn't feel the need to explain to him that you'd been excused. You stood up quickly.

"Goodbye, Ani," you said, smiling as the nickname came into your head. You felt through the Force that this boy had been called this plenty of times, felt him register you using a name that had been reserved for those in his past—perhaps his family. He couldn't stop staring at you.

"Goodbye," he said, still turning around once or twice to look at you as he followed Obi-Wan down the hallway.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Warnings: beginnings of some puppy love

Word Count: 4.1k

"Concentrate, you must," you heard Master Yoda instruct, as if from a distance. You sat in the meditation chambers, deep in thought, or, perhaps, deep in the process of trying to escape thought. Meditation had always come naturally to you, but this made the process of contemplating the currents of life all the more complex. You had to mind the others, their presences reaching out beside you. You had to make sure not to lose control of your body or your abilities while you explored the deep and mysterious trenches of the Force.

"Clear your minds," Master Yoda's voice continued, and you allowed these thoughts to slip away from you, like flower petals falling from a stem in the wind. You cleared your body, your legs, your arms, moving up into your head. You allowed yourself patience. A woman's face swam into your vision, a face you'd seen meditating before in the past, and you allowed this face to pass through your consciousness. You had a hunch what it might mean, that the face of this specific Jedi Knight floated into your brain so often. Still, meditation was not the time for puzzling, or trying to extract meaning. You were meant to let the thoughts come and go. You felt the hum of the Force, the buzzing around you, and, quickly, gently, you reached your hand up.

"Hey—" Dallum said, your fingers pinching his hand where he had left it, about to flick you behind the ear.

"Younglings," Master Yoda said, and Dallum quickly sat back down, pretending nothing had happened. You smiled, your eyes still closed. You knew Master Yoda was aware of everything happening in this room, and you felt his amusem*nt combine in the Force with your own. The stronger you grew in your power, in the Force, the less Dallum was able to get under your skin.

"Younglings," Master Yoda repeated, and you opened your eyes, watching the old Jedi pacing the room with his cane.

"Mind the living Force, you should, when you meditate," Master Yoda said, looking directly at you. "Keep your mind open, you must. Allow your thoughts," he continued, looking to Dallum, to Yumi, and to Leve, your newest classmate, "to manifest as they choose. Shape them, inform them, do not."

"Yes, Master" you all said together, nodding to him.

"Very good," Master Yoda entuned, with a small smile. Master Yoda was different than the other Jedi instructors. He never got angry, nor impatient. He never needed to command respect, he simply earned it. He had a gift with young minds—this much was clear to you. "This afternoon, report to the upper eastern deck, you will," Yoda told the younglings, and you all looked at each other. The upper training decks were usually reserved for Padawans, and those more advanced in their training.

"Yes, Master," you all repeated, and you stood, bowing to Master Yoda.

"Go, you may," the Master Jedi said, and you all quietly left the meditation chamber.

"I wonder why we are going to do training up there?" Yumi asked, looking around at the lot of you.

"Maybe Dal is going to be chosen as a Padawan," Seeva said innocently, looking up at Dallum. "I heard sometimes the Masters like to come and watch training before they meditate on their decisions."

"That didn't happen with Henry, though," Eha pointed out. It had been almost three years since Henry had been chosen, and left the group to join Master Faer as his Padawan. You wouldn't admit it aloud, not even to Eha, but you missed him terribly. You knew others in the group felt the same.

"Master Faer already knew he wanted to take Henry on as his Padawan, though" you interjected.

"I bet the Knights coming to watch us are all fighting to take me on," Dallum said, his co*cky voice not letting on any of the true emotion you felt inside him, through the Force. "They all want the strongest of us." You felt the ripple in Dallum's presence—his fear, his insecurity. You sighed. You knew Dallum was of Padawan age, and you knew if he wasn't chosen soon, he would likely be relegated to a different Temple job. Those younglings sent to Agri-Corps or the like still were often chosen as Padawans when they grew older, you knew—but you imagined it would feel like a failure, to Dallum, to perform that kind of menial labor.

"If they want the strongest, they wouldn't choose you," Eha quipped, and Dallum's face soured.

"You know, Eha, I'll miss you when I leave," Dallum replied, taking Eha's hand in his. She quickly pulled hers away. "When I'm out in the real world, risking my life for the sake of the Republic, I'll be thinking of you. It'd be easier, you know," he continued, leaning toward her clumsily, "if I had one last kiss." Eha dodged Dallum's face with ease, using the Force to push his foot off balance, causing him to fall forward, his lips falling into nothing. The group laughed.

"You'll come around," Dallum said, regaining his balance, grinning at her. Eha rolled her eyes. The group of you turned the corner as you headed to the gardens, where you usually spent your break. As you entered the courtyard, your eyes fell upon a boy. Though he was taller, his hair shorter, and his skin darkened from the sun, you recognized him immediately. He turned around.

"Y/N?" he asked, his voice slightly deeper than the last time you'd met, three years ago. You felt a tremor in the Force. You nodded. "Anakin," he said, reminding you, pointing to himself.

"I remember," you told him, walking up to where he stood, amidst the huge leaves and colorful flora of the garden. Though you hadn't seen him in years, you had remembered this boy for the intensity of his Force presence, the striking nature of his emotional landscape. You'd kept an eye out for him after you'd met, and you'd thought you'd seen him once in passing, but the Temple was very large, and Padawans like him were often out on assignment. Walking up to him now, you saw that he was at least 6-8 inches taller than he was the last time you'd seen him, and lankier. Though still a boy, he was already showing the signs of a teenager in his arms and his height. For some reason, looking into his blue eyes overwhelmed you, if only for a second.

"You've grown," you told him, casting around for something to say. He smiled down at you, pushing his Padawan braid behind his shoulder.

"So have you," he said, looking you in the eye, and you felt the same life-force behind his voice you remembered, that sincerity, that sense that he was speaking from his very soul. "Grown more beautiful, I mean." He glanced around at your classmates, suddenly looking flustered. "I mean, for a Jedi—" he continued, his face flushed. The younglings giggled, and you felt your own face growing hot.

"So this is the Padawan they've been talking about," Dallum said scathingly, looking Anakin up and down. "The Chosen, or some garbage."

"Those are just rumors," Anakin said, his blush turning to irritation as he looked Dallum in the face.

"I thought you'd be older. And well," Dallum said, a mocking laugh escaping his lips, "I thought there'd be a bit more of you."

"Don't be an asshole, Dal," Eha chided. Dallum and Anakin stood, face to face, looking each other head on. Anakin was taller, but Dallum had a thicker build.

"How do you know Y/N?" Seeva asked, looking up at Anakin with wonder.

"We met, once," Anakin said. "When I was just a boy." Anakin turned back to you, craning his neck as if to appear taller, grinning.

"If you haven’t noticed, you're still a boy," you told him, raising your eyebrows.

"Not for long," Anakin replied. The intensity with which he looked at you made you squirm. You couldn't pinpoint why. You felt the need to deflect.

"That's good news, I suppose. Some maturing might help you catch up," you said sarcastically, smirking. "In wit, at least." The group laughed, and Anakin flushed again, his cheeks a dark pink. You could feel a temper in him, rising through the Force, but it wasn't anger that plagued him now. It was a feeling you couldn't define.

"Whatever you say, youngling," Anakin replied, emphasizing the last word. This time it was you who flushed. How you wished you could take on this co*cky Padawan in combat—how you wished you could put him in his place.

"Well," Anakin said causally, "I've got places to be. Important missions to be debriefed on, you know." You glared up at him, trying to hold your curiosity at bay. You felt competitive, you felt irritated, you felt—you didn't understand the feeling rising in your torso. It was a feeling you'd never felt before.

"Off you go, then," you said, just as casually, using your hand to gesture him to leave. He didn't.

"I—I'll be seeing you," Anakin said, the confident filter over his voice faltering, looking at you with uncertainty. You looked back, but said nothing. He waited a moment, before shaking his head, and you stood, watching him turning to walk away.

***

"She didn't even recognize me, Master," Anakin said, laying on the floor of the meditation room, staring up in the direction of Obi-Wan Kenobi, who sat on the meditation ottoman, his legs folded, his eyes closed. "She's been in my dreams, her face in my meditations every day—at least, almost every day—for the past three years, and she barely even—"

"Be mindful of your thoughts, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his eyes still closed. "They betray you."

"I am being mindful," Anakin countered, frustrated. "You didn't see the look on her face. She looked me over, and just—it was like I was an unwelcome presence." Obi-Wan sighed, opening his eyes. Meditating was not Anakin's strong suit, and trying to do so in his presence was sometimes a losing battle.

"Search your feelings, Anakin," Obi-Wan said calmly, his role of mentor taking him over, pushing away his feelings of annoyance. "What is it that truly bothers you? Do you feel you are missing a sense of comradery with the others who grew up in the Temple?" Obi-Wan could admit that Anakin's training had thus far been out of the ordinary. Taking on a Padawan at a time like this—when the Republic seemed to be slowly cracking, like a dam with streams of water escaping—meant that he and Anakin had often been out on assignment, and not back at the Temple, training with others Anakin's age. Obi-Wan wondered if this lack of companionship was hurting his Padawan, making him feel like an outsider. Anakin shook his head.

"No, that isn't it," Anakin said, frustrated. He knew his Master didn't understand. He himself didn't fully understand—this girl, who had plagued his thoughts for so long, who had called him by the name only used by his mother and his friends on Tatooine. He felt a pang when he thought of them. How he had craned his neck, looking through the hallways each time he and Obi-Wan had returned to the Temple, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in the mess hall, but for whatever reason, you never appeared. He had even wondered if he had imagined you—if you truly had been an angel, visiting him on that day that he had felt so empty, beginning his new life without Master Qui-Gon's comforting presence. When he had seen you again today—he couldn't understand the feeling. It was as if you could see through him, as if you could read everything inside him like a book. He'd never before felt that way about a person. And how you had grown since the last time he'd seen you—the feeling he catalogued inside him was unfamiliar, originating in his middle, churning to get out.

"Maybe some more time at the Temple would do us both some good," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully. "Training without the pressures of real-world negotiations..." Obi-Wan stood up. "If you can behave yourself, of course." Anakin seemed lost in thought. Obi-Wan laughed. The pathetic life form that had been the small boy he'd picked up on Tatooine had become more of a liability than he could have ever dreamed—but somehow, he wouldn't have it any other way. He felt now he needed the young presence beside him just as much as Anakin needed him.

"Come along, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, and Anakin looked up, his eyes still a mess of adolescent confusion. "I have an idea for how we can spend our afternoon."

***

You waited with the rest of the younglings outside the balcony on the upper eastern side of the Temple, as instructed. You couldn't think why you would be called to do combat training here, unless Seeva was right—perhaps Dallum was being considered to become someone's Padawan. You wouldn't be sorry for him to leave the class, you thought, even though his irksome nature did provide comic relief at times. You sensed his feelings now, as he stood next to you, tension rolling off of his Force presence. You could feel his insecurity, and you felt for him—how difficult it might be, for someone as trigger happy as Dallum, if he were to be assigned to a service job. You could admit that wasn't where he belonged—he was meant for combat, even if his emotions often got in the way of strategy. You felt his anxiety humming beside you, and you tried to push your Force presence out of yourself, tried to communicate a feeling of calm to him.

"Get out of my head, worm," Dallum hissed, pushing you back against the wall. You dropped your reach through the Force, shoving him off of you. Well, I tried, you thought.

"Younglings," you heard Master Yoda command, "enter, you may." Your class straightened, entering the opening doors to the balcony single file, arranging yourselves in a line facing Master Yoda and two others. The first was Master Plo Koon, you recognized, and the second was Master Yuma Ohno. You all bowed in front of your superiors, you stifling your surprise at seeing the face of Master Yuma up close—the face that had haunted your meditations for months.

"Space out, young ones, and we will go through the variations together," Master Plo Koon instructed, and you all did as you were told, quietly and respectfully. You felt tension and nerves in the room, not just from Dallum, as you all were guided through the positions with your sabers. You kept your posture straight, trying to perform well under the watchful eye of these Master Jedi.

"Sorry to disturb," you heard an affable voice say behind you, and you sensed the presence before you turned to look along with the rest of the class. Walking onto the deck was Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, followed closely by his Padawan. You flushed. What was he doing here?

"I wondered if my Padawan might be allowed to join in this afternoon's training," Obi-Wan said courteously, looking to Master Yoda.

"Join, young Skywalker may," Master Yoda said, giving Obi-Wan an interested look. Anakin smiled, his stance looking self-assured as he glanced in your direction. You kept your face neutral, though you started to feel a sense of pressure at having such a large audience for your afternoon training session. You sensed the others feeling this tension as well. Dallum was sweating, and Eha was standing so straight she looked as if she might have grown right there in that spot.

"Young ones, follow my lead," Master Plo said, continuing his movements, and Anakin joined in as you all moved your sabers through the variations. You tried hard to focus, but the more you breathed in through the Force, the more you felt the strong, overbearing presence behind you, as if he were watching your every move.

"Very good," Master Plo praised, as you all clicked your sabers off, stowing them in your belts. Master Yoda hobbled over, his cane clicking as it hit the ground.

"Commence our usual combat practice, we will," Master Yoda said, his voice calming, giving you a grounded feeling. "Show Masters Plo, Yuma, and Obi-Wan your progress, you must."

"Yes, Master," you all entuned, all except Anakin, who gave a simple nod. He was not accustomed to the manners of the Temple, you noticed.

"Mind yourselves, you should," Master Yoda continued. "Obi-Wan, your Padawan may begin." Anakin stepped forward, wearing a smug smile, looking at the other younglings with glee. "Y/N, spar with him, you will," Master Yoda instructed, giving you a small, peculiar smile.

Your stomach dropped. It was unusual for you to get nervous during combat practice—you were top of the class, in most all respects, and didn't usually have a hard time swallowing your nerves and grounding your attention. Today, though, you felt the presences of the Masters watching you, felt Anakin's overpowering consciousness through the Force as you walked forward, standing to face him.

"I'll go easy on you," Anakin said quietly, bowing and smiling, unholstering and igniting his blue lightsaber.

"You won't even have the time," you retorted, lighting your saber in kind. You noticed, standing across from Anakin, that your sabers were identical in color. You held yours up, feeling your heart beat.

"Begin," Master Plo instructed. You jumped high into the air, spinning your saber toward Anakin's as he quickly moved to block your blow, countering with one of his own. You moved faster than you ever had before during training, jumping this way and that. You noticed that Anakin seemed to prefer the Djem So variation, while you yourself preferred the Makashi. It made for an interesting mix. It did not surprise you that Anakin was very skilled with a laser sword—in fact, he was the most skilled fighter you'd ever faced, and you felt your face grow hot in your concentration. What did surprise you was how connected you felt to Anakin as you both fought, your lightsabers moving so quickly around you it all looked like a blur. Neither of you seemed to be relying on your vision or hearing—rather, you felt in his mind what he was going to do, and he felt in your mind how you would counter. You had always been skilled at reading others through the Force, but you had never felt a presence as intense as Anakin's—you didn't need meditation to see his thoughts and feelings. It was as if his presence in the Force were shouting them at you, and they became difficult to ignore. As you catalogued his next moves, fighting hard, you felt his confidence falter, felt his surprise at your skill, felt his competitive urge to best you. You also felt other feelings come up in him, feelings you couldn't fully make sense of—part of him didn't want to be fighting you, that much you could intuit, but there was something else, something mystical. You felt a connection in his mind, a connection he had forged between you and his past, a time in his life when he felt more vulnerable. You looked into his eyes as he pushed his saber down toward yours, and you read all of this in his face, feeling his insecurity spike, his anger turn defiant.

Without warning, he pushed his hand out, and you felt yourself fly backward, the tips of your toes skidding against the balcony's marble floor. This moment of surprise allowed Anakin to reach through the Force, pulling your lightsaber from your grasp. He stood, facing you, holding both lightsabers, his victorious expression clouded by something you couldn't fully discern.

You stood in front of him, breathing heavily, looking at his celebratory smile. He had bested you. You quickly masked your feelings of frustration and anger, bowing to him gracefully. Inside, you were turning to fire. No youngling had ever outright beat you like this in combat. The feeling of losing, especially to Anakin, gave you a sour taste in your mouth, but you knew you mustn't allow yourself to give in to such immature shows of aggression.

"Very good, both of you," Master Plo encouraged, and, having yielded, you walked to the side of the balcony to stand with the other younglings.

"Y/N, wait," Anakin said to you, and you turned to look him in the face once again. "Your...your lightsaber," he said breathlessly, his bravado gone, his face earnest as he held your saber out for you to take. He looked as if he were trying to communicate something to you, but in your anger at having lost the sparring match, you ignored whatever it was. You took your lightsaber wordlessly and turned away from him, going to stand with your class.

"Dallum, perhaps you would like to go next," Master Plo said, but before you could watch Dallum's reaction to this, you were distracted by a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turned.

"Y/N, may I have a word with you?" Master Yuma Ohno asked you kindly, standing beside you. You looked up into her face, watched as her thick, heavy braids swayed as she moved, and nodded, your eyes wide. She gestured for you to follow her off of the balcony, and you obliged, feeling through the Force the curious presences of your classmates and Anakin's conflicted presence watching you as you exited.

Back inside the hallway of the Temple, Master Yuma gestured for you to sit down on a bench, and you did, watching her sit down beside you. She had a gentle face, her soft features congruous with her dark skin, her large eyes a light amber brown. You'd come to know this face fairly well, but only in meditation, only in dreams. You looked up at her now, wondering why she had asked to speak to you.

"You fight well, Y/N," she complimented, and you laced your eyebrows together in confusion.

"But I lost," you said quietly, looking up at her. Master Yuma laughed.

"No one can win every battle," she remarked, smiling down at your bemused expression. "What matters more is how we fight." You nodded, trying to make sense of this. "Do you know what I mean to ask you, Y/N?" Master Yuma inquired as you gazed up at her.

"I am not certain," you responded, breathing deeply. "But I have seen your face before. Quite often, in meditation," you confessed. "I have tried not to puzzle too hard over the meaning of such visions." Master Yuma nodded.

"That is wise," she reassured. "I, too, have seen your face, in meditation."

"You have?" you asked her, looking up in wonder at the Jedi Knight sitting next to you. She nodded.

"Though you fight well, I sense that combat is not your greatest gift, Y/N," Master Yuma said, and you held your breath, hanging on her every word. "I have heard from your instructors—and I have sensed, myself—that you have an uncanny ability to read others, through your use of the Force." You nodded. This was not a secret, and so admitting to this ability did not feel boastful, so much as truthful.

"I, too, have a knack for intuiting others' thoughts and emotions," Master Yuma continued. "I have meditated on this, and I do believe I am certain it is the will of the Force. I would like for you to become my Padawan."

"Really?" you asked her, complicated emotions running through you. You felt outward, felt Master Yuma's calming presence, and you believed that she might be right about the will of the life-force encircling you both. You couldn't think of a better master, and you were excited at the prospect of becoming a Padawan, but you also felt a sense of loss, of nostalgia. Being a youngling in the Temple was all you had known for over half your life. To leave that all behind, to begin anew, scared you as much as it invigorated you.

"Really," Master Yuma answered, perceiving your varied reactions to this news. "I know that change can be difficult to embrace, Y/N. But I think you know this is the kind of change that should be met head on." She smiled at you, and you felt her reach out with the Force, showing you her feelings of calm, rightness, wisdom, and empathy for you and your feelings. "It is your choice, Y/N."

You looked up into the beautiful face of your Master, her eyes slightly wrinkled at the sides as she smiled encouragingly at you, her thick braids with their golden rings adorning them framing her face. You smiled. You knew what you would choose.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Warnings: Teen angst (we're diving HEADFIRST into jealous Anakin, hope you're ready). Also, I'm sure I got details about the Banking Clan wrong, but I tried.

(TIME TO BLAST BODYBAG BY CHLOE MORIONDO)

Word Count: 4.5k (me: this is just the first part of the mission, it'll be short / also me: writes and writes and writes)

Anakin stood, his hands clasped behind his back, looking out over the Coruscant skyline. He breathed in the hum of the passing speeders below, allowing his face to briefly lift as the sun warmed him. He watched the light dance through his lashes. It was a beautiful day, but Anakin was not thinking of the beauty of the city planet beneath him, nor was he focused on the sun, or the sky. He was waiting. He kept his ears perked, his attention attuned to any changes in the Force. He stood with his back to the door—this made him appear less eager, he assumed, more nonchalant—and kept still, awaiting the arrival of his sparring partner.

He sensed your presence before you pressed the panel to open the doors, and his heart swelled. His lips twitched up at the sides. He worked to push all of this down in him, to allow himself to have this emotional reaction before you were facing him, so as to make sure you couldn't read it in his Force presence.

"You're late," Anakin said as you walked out onto the balcony, his tone casual, still facing away from you and looking out over the city.

"I am not," you responded shortly. Anakin turned around to face you as you walked the length that same balcony on which you had first sparred together. That had been years ago, and you'd practiced together countless times since then. It was common for Padawans of similar age and ability to practice together when their Masters returned to the Temple. And it made sense for the two of you to spar together—you were the two most skilled of your rank. Few Jedi Knights, let alone Padawans, were able to keep up with Anakin. Obi-Wan would say this thought was arrogant, but Anakin didn't see it that way. He was the best. You, he conceded, were second, as far as Padawans were concerned—and Anakin knew that his skill level was the reason you even agreed to spar with him in the first place. In order to be the best, you had to beat the best, and Anakin used your desire to improve to his advantage. To an outsider, it would appear that you were not keen on Anakin, with his overconfident nature, his ability to get under your skin, his aptitude for beating you in combat practice. Still, Anakin felt he knew better. You were warming to him, slowly but surely, and he knew it, no matter how good you were at manipulating your Force presence. Anakin himself pestered Obi-Wan to arrange these practices every chance he got, seeing as Obi-Wan knew of the dealings of the council, and knew when Master Yuma returned from assignments with her Padawan. He watched your face turn defiant in front of him, striking as it was, and he gave you a self-satisfied smile.

"I know what you're thinking," you warned him coolly, drawing your saber from your belt.

"Now who's co*cky?" Anakin asked, his lips parting, his smile contagious.

"It's not co*cky to understand your opponent," you replied, your face expressionless. "You should try it some time." Anakin watched as your poker-face twitched, ever so slightly, you biting your smile with your bottom lip and keeping your face stony.

"I understand enough," Anakin replied, lighting his saber and matching your stance. He watched you, took in your form, your hair, half of it tied back, your Padawan's braid swinging as you lit your lightsaber and adjusted your footing. You were only a year younger than he was, now newly 15, and you were small for your age. Many would underestimate you. But Anakin wouldn't.

"Are you ready?" Anakin asked with an open-mouthed grin.

"Are you?" you responded, your eyes narrowing, your mouth pursed in focus. Anakin nodded, and with that, you rushed toward him. He moved to meet your blade, but at the last second, you pivoted, flipping over him, and he ducked, narrowly avoiding your saber.

"Careful, Y/N," he said as he swung his lightsaber at you, watching you block each of his blows. "You'll take off one of my fingers, fighting like that."

"I thought that was kind of the point," you responded, rolling on the ground underneath him to get a better vantage point. He jumped, blocking your next blow. The two of you danced, locked in combat, two practiced warriors unable to best one another.

"Oh, so now we're fighting dirty?" Anakin asked, laughing and grunting as you rose behind him, and he turned to meet your blade.

"A clean fight has never been your strong suit, Ani," you told him through gritted teeth, swinging your laser sword through the air. Anakin broke into a broad smile. He loved it when you called him that.

"You'll have to teach me, then," he said, beaming, watching your face as you tried not to let your mouth turn upwards at the corners. The two of you continued your fight, you leaping around him, him keeping his stance firm, grounded as he moved his arms faster than any normal person would be able to.

"All in good time," you panted, swinging your saber blade in a circle along with Anakin's. This was a move you'd used on him before, and he let his wrist turn along with your blade, trying to catch it at the right angle so that he might push back, but your momentum was too strong, and as you kept your blade spinning, Anakin felt his wrist twist too far. It was only a moment—only a split second in which Anakin's grip on his lightsaber was loosened by the motion of your spinning blade—but it was enough. You pushed with your lightsaber, hard, and Anakin's clattered out of his hand, spinning to the ground at the edge of the balcony. You held your blade up to him, wearing a peaceful half smile, your face lowering as you looked up at Anakin with a haughty, confident stare.

"Damn it," Anakin said, feeling inside him a stir of frustration and anger. No matter whom he was fighting, Anakin didn't like to lose. It wasn't something he had to experience often.

"There's no need to become hostile," you said in a superior tone, walking over to pick up Anakin's lightsaber. Anakin snorted.

"Yeah, you wouldn't ever dream," he said, walking forward to wrest his lightsaber from your grasp, "of acting hostile, would you flea?"

"Don't call me that," you told him, scowling, finally letting emotion snap your carefully cultivated Force presence. Anakin smiled wider. This nickname—which he had given you based on your fighting style—was one of his favorite ways of baiting you.

"Why not?" he asked, getting closer to your face, watching it turn red. "Little flea," Anakin whispered, using the tips of his fingers to poke you around your arm, mimicking a flea's jump. You shrugged him off, your eyebrows forming an angry pout out of your pretty features.

"If you two are done," a tired voice said from the balcony's entrance, "we've been called to briefing." Anakin turned, watching his Master stride toward the two of you, Obi-Wan's robes rustling behind him. Anakin observed you shuffle inconspicuously to stand farther away from him, putting your head down.

"My apologies, Master," you told Obi-Wan, always deferential. "We've finished." Obi-Wan smiled at you, and then turned to Anakin, a hint of snark crossing his features, his unspoken question hanging in the air.

"She won this round," Anakin admitted, his own face growing hot, as he looked down and pressed his lips together. Obi-Wan smiled, but said nothing in response. Anakin watched his Master turn back to you.

"Y/N, Master Yuma is waiting for us in the briefing room."

"We're all expected?" you asked, suddenly looking exhausted in your posture.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said to you both, swallowing what looked like an amused expression. "Come along."

***

It was all you could do not to groan and drag your feet along the corridors as you followed Anakin and Obi-Wan toward the briefing room. Assigned to another mission with Anakin? There was only so much you could be expected to take. You understood the council's logic, of course. Master Yuma and Master Obi-Wan got on very well, and had known each other and fought alongside one another since they were younglings. Their Padawans—you and Anakin, that is—were two of the most promising up and comers. It made sense to send you on missions together, particularly when the council preferred having two Jedi Knights present, which was often. Still, there was something about being in Anakin's presence that caused you to struggle to control your impulses. Was he an excellent fighter? Yes. Was he intelligent? Yes. Was he annoying? Absolutely.

You sighed, and Anakin turned back to look at you, a delighted expression crossing his face as he raised his eyebrows. You ignored him. You couldn't dislike Ani, as much as you might want to. Sometimes he acted like an overeager puppy, one that wanted to be let outside to run, and you felt now through his Force presence his excitement at receiving a new mission. Other times, though, your blood boiled at the thought of him—how highly he thought of himself and his talents, how he believed he knew everything there was to know about the Force. The intensity with which he regarded you vexed you even more than his ability to beat you in combat—but that was a train of thought you refused to follow, a door in your mind you kept locked shut. Anakin, at times, seemed to be pushing at the other side of the door with all of his strength, but you refused to acknowledge you could read these thoughts in him. It was a subject you would not entertain, even in your own mind.

"How was combat practice?" Master Yuma asked you as the group entered the darkened briefing room, the shades of the windows fully blocking out the light of the day.

"Productive," you answered simply, and though you kept your face stoic, you felt Master Yuma intuiting your desire to gloat. She pressed her lips together. You felt her mood lift through the Force, and rolled your eyes. Was the rivalry between you and Anakin really that amusing?

"Saw that," Anakin said quietly, standing close behind you. You turned around to glare at him.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan warned, and Anakin sucked his lips in, communicating his agreement to be quiet.

"Master Kenobi. Master Ohno," Mace Windu greeted as he swept into the room. He waved the door closed behind him. You, Anakin, and both your Masters bowed to Master Windu, and he gave a short nod in return.

"We've received word from our emissaries overseeing the Banking Clan's transition away from the aurodium standard," Master Windu said, pulling up a complicated chart via the holodeck in the center of the room. You leaned forward, trying to discern the mathematical figures presented in front of you. "Though it has been some time since aurodium has been used as currency in the inner rim, we had long expected that the transition of those outer rim systems off of the standard would be complete by now." Master Windu pulled up a star chart, showing highlighted planets in the Outer Rim. You tried to keep up, but the financial sector was unfamiliar territory for you. "The Jedi ambassadors we have placed within the governance of the Clan worry that there is motive to keep these systems from ever adopting the credit system." At this, Master Windu switched off his holo-projector, turning to face Obi-Wan and Yuma.

"I sense there is substance to these suspicions," Master Windu explained. "I would like for you to discover what persons or forces might be behind this plot."

"An investigative objective?" your Master asked. Master Windu nodded.

"I do not wish for the leaders of the Clan to know of our suspicions. You will be going in under the guise of implementing a new record keeping system."

"Do you believe it plausible," Obi-Wan began thoughtfully, "that there is still such anti-Republic sentiment in the outer rim to suggest an organized effort to destabilize the use of Republic credits?"

"We cannot be sure," Master Windu said, rubbing his chin. "But any information you can glean in regards to this matter will allow us to see more clearly." Master Obi-Wan nodded, and bowed again. You and Master Yuma followed suit.

"You leave in the morning," Master Windu said, and without a glance to you or to Anakin, he swept from the room.

"An investigative mission, my young Padawan," Obi-Wan said forcefully, as if intuiting Anakin's thoughts. You'd sensed it too, Anakin's emotions jumping toward a desire for confrontation.

"I know, I know," Anakin said. "There's more I'm good for, you know, aside from killing gundarks."

"Don't remind me," Obi-Wan said, putting a hand to his head at the memory.

"I sense your abilities might be of some use, here," Master Yuma said to you, as an aside. You nodded, trying to pull your focus away from Anakin, away from his presence as it swelled out of him, surrounding you. You knew you must concentrate, if this mission were to be a success.

***

"We're coming up on Muunilinst," Master Obi-Wan announced over the comms from the ship's co*ckpit. You sat in the main hull.

"I'll be doing a perimeter sweep," Master Yuma told you and Anakin, standing up. "I'd like to make sure we aren't being followed, seeing as we aren't sure what we're facing, here."

"Taking the dingy?" Anakin joked, referring to the small ship stowed aboard the larger transport. Master Yuma nodded.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like me to go with you, Master?" you asked her. You'd been stuck in this hull with Anakin for almost eight hours now, and you were more than ready to depart.

"Stay here with Anakin and Obi-Wan," Master Yuma told you. "I shouldn't be long." She exited the main hull, heading toward the back of the ship. You looked out the side viewport as the larger ship descended, seeing ranges of mountains.

"Cool," you couldn't help but let slip, as you took in the height of the snowy summits. Beneath you was a sprawling city, and above that, a giant hovering disc of an orbital port, which you recognized as your destination. High Port was the size of a city in and of itself. You'd heard of cloud cities, of course, but you'd never visited one.

"You act like you've never seen mountains before," Anakin teased, getting up to look out the viewport with you.

"I've seen plenty," you scoffed.

"If I were flying this ship," Anakin said, "I'd take us right in between those peaks." He stood behind you, pointing over your shoulder at the two tallest mountains in your view. "I'd want to see them right up close," he continued, turning his head to look at you, his face inches from yours. You felt your heartbeat quicken, all of a sudden conscious of goosebumps arising on your neck.

"That," you said, trying to dodge around his outstretched arm, "would be one of the last ways I'd want to die." Anakin laughed.

"I'd never crash," he said arrogantly. "You'll see. Someday I'll show you." Anakin smiled as you felt the ship touch down on the orbital city.

"Highly unlikely," you said, stepping away from Anakin and rolling your eyes. Obi-Wan exited the co*ckpit, the three of you making your way to the back of the ship, to exit down the ramp.

"Follow my lead," Master Obi-Wan instructed. You nodded, falling into step behind the Jedi Knight as you waited for the ramp to open. You looked outward, seeing the landing hangar, feeling the crisp air, when—

"Henry!" you cried out, unable to help yourself. Your old classmate stood on the hangar in front of you, beaming. You ran forward down the ramp, feeling like a small child, throwing yourself into his arms. He hugged you back graciously, and you felt his surprise at your reaction.

"You look...different," Henry said, half teasing as he pulled back and held you at arms-length. You felt your smile taking up your whole face, so great was your joy at seeing Henry again after so long. You looked him over, noticing how much his appearance had changed. How was it possible that Henry was now grown? He was tall, towering over you, and though he was still skinny, his shoulders had broadened, his jaw sharper. Still, he had the pale skin, the freckles, the kind eyes and playful grin, the dark brown hair falling over his forehead, all of these features familiar to you, enhanced as they were by age.

"Wow, you sprouted," you told him, looking up at him in wonder. He looked happy to see you.

"Tends to happen," Henry said, shrugging. You saw him turn his attention to look behind you, confusion flickering over his face.

"Master," Henry said, politely greeting Obi-Wan with a small bow. Obi-Wan nodded back to him. You felt behind you a shift in the Force, and Henry's eyes crinkled. You turned around.

"What's with you?" you asked, focusing back in on Obi-Wan's Padawan, sensing in Anakin's presence a deep anger, bordering on animosity. Anakin seemed to try to compose his face, but he wasn't able to fully bring his features back to normal. He didn't have your gift for masking emotions. Or, you thought, the ability to mask any of his emotions, ever.

"Nothing," he grunted. You watched as he struggled in himself, working hard to relax his face muscles. What on earth? You almost looked around you, trying to find the perceived threat.

"Anakin, this is Henry," you said cautiously, trying to read through the currents in the Force, to understand what was happening. "Henry, this is Anakin, Master Obi-Wan's Padawan." Henry gave Anakin a polite smile.

"Hello," Henry said. Anakin seemed like he was having trouble looking at Henry.

"Hi," Anakin said, looking out past the edge of the orbital city. You looked back to Henry, trying to read in him any clues that might explain Anakin's reaction, but he seemed as confused as you were.

"Master Faer is waiting for us inside," Henry told Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan turned back to the ship.

"Right. We'll just await word from Master Yuma, and then—"

"I can show you around, if you'd like," Henry offered. He certainly hadn't changed, you noticed. He was polite and helpful as ever.

"No, thanks," Anakin said gruffly.

"Y/N, you go along," Obi-Wan instructed. "Get the lay of the land. We'll meet you inside to speak with Master Faer." You nodded. Anakin's face seemed to shrink into itself, his pout bringing his features together in a way that was a bit unsettling. Henry watched him, looking concerned.

"Certainly," Henry said, his eyes still on Anakin. He looked back to you, smiled again, and gestured for you to follow him.

***

"How long have you been here?" you asked Henry. "On assignment, I mean," you added, following him around the outer deck that surrounded the floating city. You walked slowly, looking down over the side railing, seeing the valley far below you, the city's lights gleaming. It would take some getting used to, you thought, living in a tower without a base.

"Two years, now," Henry answered, looking with you. "Master Faer and I are happy to assist the Banking Clan." He continued walking, leading you along. "Still, I do miss home."

It interested you, when other Padawans spoke this way about the Temple. Though you felt most comfortable within its walls, to you, home would never be anywhere but Batuu.

"Home missed you, too," you said, giving Henry a small smile.

"How are things, with you? How is your training going?" Henry seemed genuinely curious, looking to you as he walked along, neglecting his promise to give you a tour.

"It's going well," you told him. "Master Yuma seems to be the perfect fit, for someone like me. I'm improving quite a lot, with her help." You didn't mean to prove your point, but you felt Henry's thoughts turn to Anakin, and you stopped walking, looking at him curiously. Henry looked to you, seeming to wonder why you'd stopped.

"I forgot," Henry said, shifting his weight. "There are no secrets around you, Y/N."

"That's not exactly how it works," you noted, looking out over the mountain ranges that surrounded the city beneath High Port. It was quiet for a moment.

"He's the one they found on Tatooine," Henry asked, thoughtful. "Isn't he?" You nodded. You wondered, at times, how rumors about Anakin had found their way to every Jedi in the order. Henry looked out over the mountains. You'd missed his soft presence, his considerate way of choosing his words carefully, of thinking before he spoke. "He seems very taken with you," Henry said, polite as ever, seeming as if he were trying to sound off-hand. You snorted.

"He's taken with being a pain in my ass, if that's what you mean," you said, laughing. Henry smiled, looked down, and shook his head. You knew he was filtering his thoughts, and for this you were very grateful.

"I've heard he's a powerful warrior," Henry continued, smiling, turning back to you. "I'm glad you've finally found someone to practice with." You grinned back at him, remembering your days of sparring with him back when he was young—when you both were.

"He's all right," you admitted, exhaling in a small puff. You both laughed. Henry knew how much you hated to be beat in combat.

"You've grown quite a lot," Henry told you, and you looked back at your old friend. "I was expecting a wild little kid, hair flying everywhere."

"Tunic belted wrong," you said through your laughter, remembering. Henry chuckled.

"I guess those days are long past," he mused. You nodded, looking away, back out over the mountains. Time was a new concept for you to try to grapple with—how quickly it moved, how much you had changed, how everything seemed to be sand falling through your fingers. As this metaphor passed through your mind, you again thought of Anakin—how you'd felt his sadness that first day you'd met him, how it had felt like sand swirling, storming around you. You sighed.

"What?" Henry asked, touching your shoulder kindly. You sensed his thoughts had followed yours.

"I'm just," you started, struggling to phrase your feelings, looking at the snowy caps in the distance. "I'm wondering how much more things are going to change." Henry nodded, looking out in the same direction you did.

"Probably quite a bit," Henry said quietly.

"That's what worries me," you confided, looking down at your hands on the railing. "I'm not sure if I'm good with change."

"It's part of the Jedi way, isn't it," Henry said, a comforting tone infusing his words. "To let things pass, as they do. We mustn't resist the cycles of life, mustn't get too attached to certain moments, lest we fail to move forward." You looked up into Henry's eyes admiringly.

"What?" he asked again, returning your smile.

"I might have beat you in combat," you told him, "but you were always more wise."

***

Anakin stood in the entrance hall of the Banking Clan's headquarters, at the edge of the floating city. Obi-Wan had told Anakin firmly to wait here, that he was going to speak alone with Master Faer before they spoke as a group. Anakin couldn't see why this was necessary—if they were all on the mission, they all needed to have all of the information, did they not? Anakin felt himself fuming, feeling hot in his Padawan robes despite the mountain air, his muscles tightening under his tunic. Anakin heard laughter, and walked forward, from the smaller entrance hall toward an open door to a larger room surrounded by windows.

Anakin balked. From his vantage point, in the doorway to this larger conference room, he could see you, clear as day through the window, standing on the deck outside, talking to Henry. You were supposed to be assessing the layout, Anakin thought angrily, and yet here you were, laughing and looking out at the view, like you were vacationing in Canto Bight. He watched as you looked out over the mountains, the same mountains he himself had just tried to promise to show you, someday. Anakin felt his feelings churning inside of him, and he made an effort to quell them, an effort that felt futile. Who did this young man think he was? Why did Henry act so familiar with you? For all Anakin knew, you hadn't seen each other in years.

But she hugged him, Anakin thought desperately. She was happy to see him. Anakin had gotten so used to you keeping your walls up around him, speaking to him only with snark, that he hadn't thought you might greet another Padawan this way, so willingly showing affection. He'd seen you act that way with your Master, sure, and with a few of your classmates—Eha, he remembered her name was—but not ever with...

Not ever with a young man, who had no business speaking with you so intimately, Anakin affirmed, and his anger grew. He felt it in the tips of his fingers, down into his toes. Henry had to be at least 18, if not older, and that was way too old for him to be speaking with you as if you were his contemporary. Anakin watched as the two of you conversed, looking at each other so thoughtfully. He couldn't understand why your face was so open, your eyes so wide. You seemed to at ease with Henry. You'd never looked at Anakin that way, never spoken to him with such vulnerability as he saw you showing now. Watching it made him ache, but more than that, it made him furious.

Anakin saw Henry place his hand on your shoulder, and it was as if Anakin had lost control of his own limbs, some other force pushing him forward from the doorway, looking for a way to get out to you. He'd be happy to throw Henry over the edge, as far as he was concerned, for acting that way with you, when you were— "Anakin." Anakin had made it all of one step into the room when a voice called him back, a hand grabbing onto his forearm. Anakin turned to see Obi-Wan's face gazing back at him. Anakin was already taller than Obi-Wan, but something in Obi-Wan's presence towered over Anakin's, figuratively speaking. As Anakin looked into his Master's eyes, he felt logic return to him, felt the fire filling his muscles slowly empty out.

"Take a moment," Obi-Wan instructed, reading his Padawan's mood easily, understanding without needing to be told. "You control your thoughts, Anakin. Remember that."

Anakin turned, watching you and Henry gazing out over the railing toward the mountainside, and then turned back, his face composed, nodding to his Master. He could control himself—for now.

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Warnings: more Anakin angst, lots of jealousy, canon-typical violence & death, and the beginnings of some soft Ani fluff (it’s a slow burn y'all, so appreciate the build, please)

(p.s. in my mind, Henry is played by the dashing Skandar Keynes!)

Word Count: 5.4k

The Muuns of the Banking Clan were interesting beings. You sat watching them as they looked down upon you and your colleagues, their chairs elevated in the high-ceilinged chamber in which they held their proceedings.

"The Republic believes this new organizational structure will add security and efficiency to the documentation of the Banking Clan's credit reserves," Master Obi-Wan was saying, the Muuns nodding as he explained the new record keeping system that you Jedi had been sent to initiate...or, so the Muuns believed. You felt a bit uneasy at this deception, but you understood the importance of securing the Republic's control of the credit standard, especially for those planets in the Outer Rim that suffered under the hands of the crime syndicates. As Obi-Wan spoke, you felt Master Yuma reaching out with the Force, communicating to you that you must focus, now. You let your eyes glaze over. From the outside, it would appear that you were politely listening to Master Kenobi's speech. You used this mask to hide the true purpose of this meeting—the objective was for you to try to read the situation, understand the Muuns' emotional movements, sense where their thoughts led, trying to glean if anything within this governing body was amiss.

Before you knew it, the meeting was over. Time passed differently when you were meditating, you knew, and you shook your head to clear it, quickly, following your Master and the other Jedi out of the Clan's chambers.

"We should reconvene on our ship," Master Yuma said innocently, disguising the true meaning of her words. "We can send a transmission to the Council, to let them know of our progress."

"Certainly," Master Faer said, just as calmly. Though it was not assumed that any of the Muuns had ill intent, it was important for you to discuss your mission aboard your own ship, where you could be sure no one was listening in.

The sun was setting outside against the mountains as you, Henry, and Anakin followed your Masters back out onto the landing platform. You paused, only for a moment, to take in the colors as they moved along with the jagged outlines of the mountainous horizon. Spending most of your time on Coruscant, you didn't often get to admire the natural beauty of the universe.

"Y/N," Master Yuma called to you, and you turned, following her up the closing ramp of the ship you'd arrived on earlier that day.

"My Padawan tells me that you have an unusual ability for understanding other's thoughts," Master Faer said to you as all of you entered the main hull, sitting around the flight table.

"Not thoughts, exactly," you responded, looking to Master Yuma for permission to explain. She nodded to you in encouragement. "I can...sense minute changes in other presences, through the Force," you clarified, trying to speak of your own abilities with humility. "Usually centered on emotions."

"And what did you discover," Obi-Wan asked, looking to you, "about our Muun friends?"

"They're..." you cast around, searching for the right words to explain. Thought, emotion, and consciousness were not easily captured through language. "They're afraid," you said, looking inward, trying to translate the experience you'd had in that chamber in a way that made sense. "All of them. They're scared. Of what, I don't know," you continued, "but I don't sense any malintent on their behalf. I don't think they're the ones behind this...plot, if it is such an organized effort. But there's something they're not telling us. It's like...like they're being forced, against their will. To do what, I don't know." You shook your head, deep in thought, trying to understand it. "It's like there's some other presence. I sensed the outline of something we're missing, but I can't get a read on what it is...whatever this presence is, the Muuns are terrified of it."

Your words cast the group into silence, everyone thinking hard.

"I too sensed a lack," Master Yuma agreed. "A lack of sight, that is. We're being blinded." You watched your Master as she puzzled, her braids hanging loosely around her attractive face, her large eyes clouded by thought.

"Well, we don't have much to report yet," Master Obi-Wan conceded. "We'll need to do a little more digging." Master Faer nodded.

"The Muuns are under the impression that you will be overseeing the new organizational system's implementation tomorrow," Master Faer said. "They've arranged rooms for you all. I have found them to be gracious hosts," Master Faer continued, smiling a tired smile.

"That's good news," Master Yuma said, leaning back. "We could all use some rest."

"Henry," Master Faer suggested, "if you could show your fellows to their rooms for the evening, I will join Masters Yuma and Obi-Wan in sending a transmission back to the council." Henry nodded obligingly. You stood, Anakin following suit. You noticed that Anakin's presence seemed subdued as you walked back off of the ship and toward the Banking Clan's headquarters. It wasn't common for him to be quiet during deliberations—it wasn't common for him to be quiet, period. You read in him a sense of unease, felt some flickers of fear and anger, though you didn't understand where these emotions were coming from.

You thought back to Henry's words from earlier. He's quite taken with you, Henry had said. You knew this area of thought was off limits, but you couldn't help feeling a gnawing feeling in your stomach. In your own way, you cared for Anakin. You felt remorseful, now, as you walked toward the turbolift inside the floating city with your two silent companions. You could admit that when you were around Anakin, a part of you warmed internally—the way Anakin's Force presence swelled when it met yours, the way you felt his joy spike, no matter the circ*mstance, even if you were glaring at him, even if you were insulting his intelligence—you couldn't help but feel affection for this boy. Anakin wore all of his emotions on his sleeve, and it was, in many ways, ironic that you were the one who was so often paired with him on missions, seeing as reading other's emotions was your Force gift. You didn't need it, with Anakin. His emotions spilled out at every turn, his joy, his eagerness, his anger, his insecurity—all of it read on his face and in every gesture. You hadn't been able to prevent yourself from becoming fond of him, even though you had tried very hard. It was endearing, meeting someone so genuine. Maybe you had been too hard on him.

"The rooms on this level are for diplomatic visitors," Henry told you quietly as you exited the lift, seeming to sense that both you and Anakin were lost in your own, deep trenches of thought. He gestured to a door in front of him, and a door to his left. "Anakin, you may take this one, if you wish," Henry offered. Anakin gave him a curt nod.

"Thank you, Henry," you said, putting your hand on the door handle. "For everything."

"I'll see you in the morning," Henry said, and with a soft smile, he departed back into the lift. You turned, opening the door to your room, surprised at its size. The window was large, and through it you could see the last bits of light disappearing against the expansive starry sky. On missions, you were usually delegated to sleeping in the corner of the ship, or perhaps a bunk, if you were lucky. To have a guest room, with a large bed, a view, and a vase full of fresh flowers on the bedside table overwhelmed you. You turned back around, smiling, to find Anakin standing in your doorway, looking angrier than you'd ever seen him.

"Ani—wha?" you started to question, but all too quickly, he crossed the room, his angry strides breaking through your peaceful mood like a knife.

"What do you mean, what?" Anakin accused, turning back to look you in the face before continuing his pacing. You looked at him, eyes wide. For once, you truly had no idea what was going through his mind.

"Henry!" Anakin snarled, putting his hands up in the air, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"What about Henry?" you asked, truly nonplussed.

"You're joking, right?" Anakin asked, stopping his pacing to put his face up close to yours. "That man is what—four, five years older than you?"

"So?" you questioned, trying to understand how Anakin could be so angry.

"So?! So he had no right talking to you the way he did." Anakin resumed his angry pacing. You sensed that his subdued nature earlier was nothing more than a valiant attempt to contain the emotions he exhibited now, though you still felt this reaction needed more of an explanation.

"Talking to me how?" you asked, looking at Anakin as if he were crazy.

"You know," Anakin said threateningly, pointing his finger at you. "Talking to you as if you were..."

"As if I were what?" you asked, more quietly, wondering if you could calm Anakin down enough to get him to spit it out.

"He's way too old for you," Anakin huffed, and you saw that his hands were shaking. "It's not right. And you," Anakin continued, turning to point at you again accusingly, "you went right along with it. He's grown, and you're just a—"

"Just a what?" you asked, anger finally penetrating your mood. "Just a kid?"

"His behavior was completely unacceptable," Anakin went on, still pacing. "He was all over you. And he was so obvious about it! Romantic attachments are against the rules, Y/N. And it's...it's wrong. It's beyond inappropriate, for you and him to—for you—" Anakin sputtered, seeming unable to finish his thought. You started laughing.

"Anakin, it isn't like that at all. Henry and I have known each other since we were small children, training together as younglings." You shook your head, finally cluing in to the meaning behind Anakin's reaction. You felt yourself blushing, wanting very much to completely ignore this realization about the reason behind Anakin's anger, and also struggling to keep yourself from punching Anakin in the mouth.

"There's something off about the way he looks at you," Anakin retorted, his eyes narrowed, looking up into your face with an intensity you had seen from no one else. The strength of his Force presence was incomparable.

"The only thing off here is you," you responded, raising your voice ever so slightly. "And I know why," you said, your hands balling into fists, your frustration and discomfort rising in you like a swelling wave. Just when you thought maybe you should be giving Anakin more grace, he worked his way under your skin in the worst way, proving himself to be the most irksome, the most exasperating presence in the galaxy. You felt Anakin's anger rise alongside yours, his presence in the Force lashing out toward you.

"Oh yeah?" Anakin taunted, trying uselessly to use bravado through his anger.

"You're jealous of him," you responded rudely, lowering the tone of your voice again, trying to regain control of yourself.

"Of him?" Anakin squawked derisively, going in the opposite direction of control. "As if. Sniveling, quiet, polite, Henry," Anakin spat, smiling a horrible smile. "He's weak."

Your anger turned to ice. You felt your body stiffen, all of your cold fury directed at the boy in front of you. You couldn't believe it—couldn't believe Ani could be so cruel, that he could be so dismissive toward someone so caring and generous, someone who was like a brother to you.

"Henry is kind," you said fervently, and you felt your eyes start to water. You willed the tears back. "He's compassionate, and wise. He's ten times the Jedi you will ever be." At these words, you felt Anakin's presence fold into itself, somehow, as if inside him there were a black hole that had suddenly been unleashed. You felt the tiniest twinge of regret.

You heard a clattering sound across the room, and you turned, seeing the vase that had been filled with flowers on the ground, shattered into pieces. The flower stems lay amidst the wet, surrounded by the clear shards of glass. You turned back to face Anakin, to chastise him for letting himself lose control like that, but he had already run from the room, leaving behind him a wake of fury and agony that you felt linger in the Force.

***

Anakin awoke the next morning balled up in his sheets, sweating, his feelings and memories from the previous night still storming around him. He had not slept well. He had not gotten a chance to enjoy the beautiful room that the Muuns had prepared for him, though Padawans never were granted such dignified accommodations. The whole of it seemed to be mocking him in his anger, the white sheets, the view of the mountains outside in the morning air. Even the vase full of flowers on the bedside table was taunting him. He wanted to smash this one as well—two for two—but he held back.

He had felt he was justified, telling you off for the way you had interacted with Master Faer's Padawan. Anakin refused to think his name. Still, when he had locked himself in his own room, after confronting you, all he had felt was distress. He was tormented by your face—he'd never before seen you with tears in your eyes, looking at him as if he'd gravely wounded you. The memory made him feel slimy, sick, like some kind of slithering, wet sadness were making its way through his body, emptying him of his anger, his confidence, of anything aside from guilt. Anakin sat up, putting his feet on the ground, resting his hands on his knees.

He had not meant to make you upset. He didn't know what he had meant to do—his anger had gotten the better of him, as it so often did. But Anakin was not able to banish his anger completely—he felt it stirring inside him, waiting to be called upon should it be needed. Anakin shook his head. Yes, he didn't see what there was to admire in a boy like Henry—a man, Anakin supposed—but you did, and Anakin certainly admired you, your tenacity, your skill, the way you refused to give in, the way you always seemed to be a step ahead of him. Anakin put his head into his hands.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said gently from the doorway. Anakin looked up, annoyed that his Master always seemed to appear when he was struggling with his emotions. Having a Master like Obi-Wan—someone so perceptive and attuned to Anakin's internal shifts—was at times difficult. Anakin hadn't ever tried to hide his feelings for you, from Obi-Wan at least, but as he grew older, things seemed to become more complicated.

"The Muuns have arranged breakfast for us on the lower level," Obi-Wan said cautiously, watching his Padawan.

"I'm not hungry," Anakin muttered, turning his face away from the knowing gaze of his Master. Obi-Wan sighed, entering the room, sitting on the ottoman at the end of Anakin's bed.

"You might try to see what you're feeling right now," Obi-Wan began, Anakin still refusing to look at him, "as an opportunity for growth. Feelings that seem important and all-consuming in this stage of your life will shift, and likely fade with time." Anakin shook his head. He didn't know all that much about this kind of attachment, but he knew enough to know his feelings about you, in particular, would never change, or fade, no matter how much time passed. Obi-Wan put a comforting hand on his Padawan's shoulder.

"I do know that if you want the admiration of your peers," Obi-Wan said gently, "you need to earn it, through words and actions that are admirable." These words softened Anakin's anger, for they were useful to him. They envisioned a way forward—a future in which you didn't despise Anakin, but rather, a future in which you admired him, more than you admired Henry, more than you admired anyone else.

Obi-Wan watched his apprentice's face as Anakin worked this through. Obi-Wan felt as if he could see the cogs churning, Anakin pushing through the heaviness of his adolescent emotions toward logical conclusions. Obi-Wan remembered what it was like to be young, though he had never been as hot-tempered as his Padawan. He was sympathetic toward Anakin, wanting to assuage these feelings and put his apprentice's mind at peace. Still, a warning arose in the back of Obi-Wan's mind, a warning that had come from the Jedi Council long ago. Though Obi-Wan was aware of Anakin's tendency toward attachment and possession, he also knew Anakin to be, in his very core, a good and compassionate person. He would work through these feelings, in time, and mature with age. Obi-Wan was sure of it.

Obi-Wan waited in the hallway while his Padawan washed and dressed. Anakin emerged from his room feeling quite irritable, but he worked hard to arrange his features. He breathed in the Force, trying to remember that a Jedi must act selflessly. A Jedi must be slow to anger, must always try to feel connected to other life forms—even life forms that were older, and annoyingly polite, with their stupid freckles, life forms that talked to you as if you were the most beautiful person in the whole of the galaxy—

No. Anakin worked again to clear his mind of anger for Henry, worked to compose his face and stature into something resembling good natured. As he waited for the lift to descend, Anakin felt Obi-Wan's Force presence and was calmed by it. His Master never seemed to get too worked up, about anything, and though this often infuriated Anakin, right now it was helping him to quiet his troubled mind.

As Anakin followed Obi-Wan into a sunny room with a large table, he saw that you, Master Yuma, and Henry were already seated. The table had another vase, with the same flowers that had been in the guest rooms, and was covered with a variety of fruits, biscuits, and other breakfast fares. Master Yuma and Henry looked up as Anakin and Obi-Wan entered, both ushering greetings, but you refused to acknowledge their presence. Anakin watched your face, but you ate slowly, staring across at the wall in front of you. Anakin sat down at the table.

Anakin swallowed, trying to move his face correctly as he turned to Henry. "Good morning," Anakin told Henry, in a voice that didn't sound like his own. Henry nodded to him. Anakin turned to you. "Good morning, Y/N," he said, making sure to push outward with his own remorse, his compassion, his most admirable qualities.

You looked up at him, finally, your eyes wide and your eyebrows upturned, as if he had said something horribly shocking. You looked back down at your plate, your face red. Clearly, you were still angry.

"Are you all right, Y/N?" Henry asked you gently, and Anakin's emotions roiled inside of him. You ignored both of them, still staring at your plate.

"I don't want to know," Master Yuma said, putting her hands in the air in front of her, as if in surrender. "Y/N, we've been tasked with going over the manifest for the credit reserves this morning. Whenever you're ready, we should—"

"I'm ready," you responded quickly, looking as if you wanted nothing more than to escape that room. Anakin saw the sides of Master Yuma's mouth twitch.

"All right," Master Yuma said quietly, no hint of anything other than professionalism in her tone. "We'll all reconvene this afternoon." As Master Yuma pushed back from the table, you stood up, knocking some of your silverware to the ground, and fled the room quickly, not turning to look back.

Henry looked concerned, but Anakin avoided his eyes. Henry turned to Obi-Wan.

"Don't ask," Obi-Wan said, taking a dignified sip from his teacup.

***

"You know," Master Yuma told you as the two of you poured over the large books kept by the Muuns, standing in the small room behind the chamber in which the meeting had been held. "You're really growing up, Y/N. Though I can sense that you are troubled, you've handled your emotions quite well." She turned a page and ran her finger along it, looking for any inconsistencies within the Muuns' records. You shook your head.

"I've been working hard, to regulate myself," you admitted to her, running your hand along the opposite page of the large book, looking through the numbers presented in small, neat lines. "But it's so difficult, sometimes. Anakin—"

"Anakin is very powerful in the Force," Master Yuma said thoughtfully, keeping her eyes down, on her work. "It must be quite a challenge, to be so young, and to command so much power." These words surprised you—you hadn't expected Master Yuma to make excuses for Anakin's behavior.

"But he can be so irritating," you groaned, finally letting out some of your frustrations, finally allowing yourself to act in a way some would consider indecorous. "And sometimes, when his emotions get the best of him, he can even be...cruel." Your stomach turned as you remembered the way he had spoken about Henry. Master Yuma looked up, turning to you.

"I know that age grants one the ability to see things more clearly," Master Yuma said, "and I know that you and Anakin both are very young. Still," Master Yuma continued, her eyes becoming unfocused, as if she were trying to look ahead, past this room, past this moment. "Still, I sense that you know Anakin's heart is not cruel—that you know there is more to this story that has not yet revealed itself."

You watched Master Yuma, sucking your breath in. This honesty startled you. You didn't know what to say in response, didn't know how to make sense of these words. It wasn't as though you hadn't thought this, in the depths of your mind, before now—it was that hearing it spoken aloud, and from someone you regarded as wise and discerning, frightened you.

"We can only control our own actions, Y/N," Master Yuma continued. "I trust that you will—"

Master Yuma's words cut off sharply, as both of you turned, looking to the doorway in alarm.

"I sense it too," you said quickly, and before you knew it you were following your Master at a run, unholstering your lightsaber, through the maze of rooms that made up the Clan's headquarters, outside, onto the hangar, where you sensed a bubble of tension—of danger.

You exited to a distressing scene: the bright light of the day revealed Anakin and Henry, standing at the edge of the hangar, their lightsabers lit, blocking blasts sent from an enemy wearing pilot's clothing, a mask covering their face, their blaster firing shot after shot. The mystery attacker was skilled, you saw—the assailant dodged the blasts that Anakin and Henry sent back, deflected by their lightsabers, and rolled on the ground and fired more shots, getting closer and closer to the Padawans. You and Master Yuma ran forward, lightsabers lit, but you were still too far away. You felt the presences of Master Faer and Master Obi-Wan exiting the building behind you, having sensed the danger at the same time you had. This was supposed to be a diplomatic mission, you thought desperately. Who was this attacker, and, more importantly, why were they here? There wasn't time to think it through. You ran forward, desperate to join your fellow Padawans.

You watched with horror as a blast hit Henry in the arm, knocking his lightsaber out of his hand, leaving him defenseless. You felt like your legs were moving in slow motion, so intense was your desire to get to him, to protect him, when you saw the attacker fire the blaster again, directly toward Henry's heart.

"Henry!" you screamed, but as you felt your stomach drop, a terrible fear slashing through your middle, you saw the red light stream of the bullet stop, hovering in mid-air between the masked attacker and Henry's frozen form, his mouth open in surprise. You didn't understand, not until you looked to your left and saw Anakin, sweat dripping from his brow, his hand reaching outward, his fingers tensed. You wouldn't have believed it if it weren't happening before your eyes. You'd never seen someone stop an energy bolt from a blaster through the Force. You wouldn't have thought it possible—the reflexes necessary to stop something moving that fast would need to be quicker than lightspeed. The attacker stood, watching the beam of light hovering, astonished, and turned to look at Anakin. Anakin's stare turned cold, and you knew what would happen before you could stop it. Anakin used his Force grip on the energy bolt to change its direction, sending it back to the attacker, hitting the mysterious masked figure in the chest.

"Henry," you said, your heart beating quickly as you ran forward to look at your friend. "Are you all right?" Henry nodded, seeming shaken, but you could feel in his emotions that it had not been the attacker's actions that had caused that bewildered look on his face. It had been Anakin's response. It took Henry a moment to get ahold of himself.

"Thank you," he said, turning to face Anakin head on. "You saved my life." Anakin nodded at Henry, then turned to look back at the masked attacker. It was clear to everyone from the mysterious figure's still form, unmoving on the floor of the hangar, that whoever this person had been, they were no more.

"That was unwise, Anakin," Obi-Wan said quietly, walking forward to examine the body. "Now we will never know who this assailant is, or who sent them to attack us." Anakin flushed, and you felt his frustration through the Force.

"He would have killed Henry," Anakin argued, "had I not intervened."

"He, or she, or they might be dead," Master Yuma said, "but it's time for those among us who have not been truthful to give us answers." She turned to face the Muuns, who stood in a cluster near the doorway into the inner chamber, looking terrified.

"Who sent this assassin?" Master Faer asked them, for once abandoning his calm demeanor, looking angrier than you had ever seen him. You felt that Master Faer cared deeply for his Padawan.

"We do not know!" one of the Muuns entuned, wringing his hands, acting upset. "We cannot know."

"Then what is it that you have been hiding from us, friends?" Master Obi-Wan said. His tone was calm, but the strength of the Force command in his question rang around all of you. The Muuns felt it, whether or not they knew consciously. They all looked at each other, looking scared.

"We have been plagued," one Muun said in a small voice, standing behind the others, "by a demon. A hooded man, in the shadows. A demon who has threatened us, our species."

"Tell us everything," Master Yuma said, her voice intensifying.

"We will," the Muun agreed.

***

"But we can't go," you said, distressed, looking back to Henry and Master Faer as you, Master Yuma, Master Obi-Wan, and Anakin prepared to board your ship. "Not now that we know there has been an attempt to remove the Jedi presence on Muunilinst. We need to stay to help Master Faer, and—"

"It is likely our presence here brought forth this attack," Master Obi-Wan explained, looking to you with empathy. "Staying will only garner more resistance to a Republic presence in the Banking Clan."

"But—"

"Master Faer and I can take care of ourselves," Henry told you, walking forward and taking your hand. "You don't need to worry, Y/N." You looked up into his eyes and felt that he meant this—that though he didn’t want you to leave, he felt it was for the best. Duty came first for a Jedi. You hugged him, burying your face into his chest, the way you used to do when you first arrived to the Jedi Temple as a young child, when Henry was one of the only other younglings who was nice to you.

"We'll see each other again soon," Henry said kindly, pulling away from you and gesturing for you to enter up the ship ramp with your companions. You turned away reluctantly, and once you were aboard, you turned back to watch the ramp close, Henry waving goodbye from behind it before it shut fully.

"Better settle in," Master Yuma told you, putting a reassuring hand on your arm. "Get some rest, Y/N." You still felt wrong about leaving, still saw Henry's face as the ramp closed in your mind, but you knew Henry was talented, and that Master Faer would do anything to protect him. There was no use in worrying more, right now. You sighed, and plopped yourself down onto the flight couch in the main hull. Master Yuma went to check on Master Obi-Wan in the co*ckpit. You'd almost forgotten the other presence next to you, so lost you were in your thoughts of all that had just occurred. You tried hard to cast out your fear, because you knew where the fear of loss led. As you worked through the Force to regulate yourself, your eyes closed, you noticed a pause hanging in the air, as if someone had spoken half of a sentence and was waiting to speak the other half, or the last few notes of the melody had yet to be played. You opened your eyes.

"I'm sorry!" Anakin burst out, standing across the hull in front of you, looking uncomfortable in his posture. You raised your eyebrows. Watching Henry almost be killed by a blaster had driven your argument with Anakin from your mind, but you could see now that Anakin had been waiting for the appropriate moment to say this. It was surprising, to you—you'd never heard Anakin apologize.

"For what?" you asked cautiously, taking in Anakin's bowed figure, feeling his complicated emotions swirling around the both of you.

"I'm sorry for—for what I said. About Henry," Anakin continued, his voice clipped. This seemed to be new territory for him, as if he were pushing hard within himself to try to force the words out. "He's not weak. He's a good Jedi." You watched Anakin, his eyes looking to you, asking for your forgiveness, and you felt a shift in the Force. Between the two of you there had rarely been any vulnerability, any weakness—you had always kept a strict guard up around Anakin, and he had always met that guard with confidence, with boldness, with his daring audacity, his stubbornness. The boy in front of you now was allowing that boldness to wash away, leaving behind a presence you associated with the boy you had found, all those years ago, sitting on the bench in the Jedi temple. Underneath Anakin's self-confident swagger you had always intuited this sensitivity, this soft current, but now that it was on full display in front of you, at your mercy, you were overwhelmed. You felt yourself blushing, unsure what to say.

"Thank you," you whispered, and Anakin felt your acceptance of his apology in your words. His posture relaxed. He walked over, tentatively, sitting next to you on the flight couch, still keeping his distance.

"Do you believe it? What they said?" Anakin asked, his energy buzzing, his body still working to keep in his emotions—fear, relief, amongst other things you refused to name. "About the hooded demon, that is."

"Yes," you admitted, still looking down. "Though that descriptor doesn't seem right, as it's through the Muuns' limited lens. Whatever that presence actually is..." You paused, turning to look at Anakin, feeling his presence in the Force swell when you made eye contact. "I have a feeling things are changing, Ani." He nodded, his eyes wide, taking you in.

"There's nothing in this universe that the Jedi can't handle," Anakin told you. You knew he had been trying to say this with comfort, but the phrasing unnerved you. You couldn't sense why. "Whatever changes, we'll handle it together."

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Warnings: tiniest bit of jealous Ani, intoxication, spice/drug mention, attempted kidnapping, protective Anakin, protective Dallum, a (very consensual) kissy kiss between OTHER characters tehe (ALSO ANAKIN FLUFF YAY)

Word Count: 5.4k

You walked through the hallway of the Padawan dormitory, your mind restless. Master Yuma had been sent out on assignment without you, a diplomatic mission to Mandalore, and whenever you had to stay at the Temple for long periods of time without her, you grew fidgety. It wasn't uncommon for Jedi Masters to be sent out without their Padawans, and it didn't bother you to be left out of this particular mission. Still, you felt yourself becoming antsy as the days passed, with nothing to entertain you but the walls of this building, the endless archives, and your own meditative explorations.

You headed into the turbolift and pressed the panel on the wall. It was a bit later than you usually prefered to rise and head to the mess hall for breakfast, but without Master Yuma's presence—or, really, any motivation to do anything—you'd felt no need to get out of bed in a timely manner.

You felt the presence before the doors of the lift opened. How does he manage, you thought, flushing, to always show up exactly where I—

The lift doors opened to Anakin's smiling face, standing in front of you, his eyes looking mischievous.

"Fancy seeing you here, flea," he said, poking his tongue through his teeth, his grin matching the elation you felt rising around you, his Force presence catching in the air.

"You're back," you observed, walking from the lift straight ahead, in the direction of the mess hall. He followed you.

"Aren't you going to ask about Riosa?" Anakin solicited, puffing out his chest slightly as you walked through the hallway.

"Factory disputes don't interest me, much," you told him in a slightly teasing tone.

"This one would. Wait til you hear what—"

But Anakin's words were cut off by a whooping holler, coming from the direction of the main Temple entrance. Both of you looked around.

"No way!" Dallum shouted, running forward and grabbing you in a playful headlock, giving you a noogie by rubbing his knuckles against your head.

"Get off of her," Anakin said coldly, straightening up. You laughed as Dallum released you, smiling.

"What's up, Dal," you asked. Behind Dallum you saw Master Quinlan Vos, and you put two and two together—they must have finally returned from their stay on Onderon.

"Is Eha back too?" you asked hopefully, craning your head and looking around, but you saw only Master Quinlan and his rambunctious Padawan. The two of them being paired together was a liability to the Order, you thought, but it did provide some entertainment value.

"Yeah, she's somewhere," Dallum said, a wide grin spreading across his smug face. Eha and her Master had accompanied Dallum and Master Quinlan, you knew, on this last mission. They'd been gone a while—too long for your taste. "Anxious to see you too, I'm sure." Dallum had grown significantly in his years as a Padawan—his thick shoulders were wide, his muscles straining against his robes. He puffed out his cheeks, looking from you to Anakin.

"So, listen," he said more quietly, out of earshot of his Master, who was greeting a few other stragglers coming out of the breakfast hall. "We're planning a little heist, tonight."

"A heist?" you asked warily, watching Dallum's face light up in excitement.

"It's Seeva's birthday! What, did you forget, worm?" Dallum teased. You had neglected to remember that Seeva was turning 15 today.

"Don't call her that," Anakin told Dallum angrily, his jaw clenched, putting his hand on your shoulder to try to step between you and Dallum. You shoved Anakin off.

"What, so it's okay for you to call me a bug, but it's not okay when he does it?" you turned and asked Anakin, amused.

"It's not the same," Anakin said, pouting.

"It's exactly the same," you said in a dry tone, trying not to smile. In some ways, you thought, Dallum and Anakin were quite similar—they were both co*cky when it came to their abilities, both overconfident, both boisterous in their teenage sensibilities. Still, you knew that Anakin would never have bullied you, or anyone, the way Dallum had in the past. You were glad that stage of Dallum's character development seemed to have ended when he'd become a Padawan. You could admit that Master Quinlan had been a positive influence on Dallum. Though the two of them at times seemed to egg each other on, they got results. Plus, Dallum seemed to have grown out of his insecurity, and with that growth had come a much nicer attitude toward everyone, especially toward you. You turned back to him.

"You know, Dal, these stunts of yours tend to get all of us in trouble." It was true—Padawans who were under 18 were not allowed to leave the Temple unsupervised by a Jedi Knight. It was easy enough for Dallum, who was already 18, but Eha was only 17, and you, Anakin, and Seeva were even younger. You didn't want to get caught sneaking out.

"It will be innocent fun," Dallum promised, putting his hand up to signify the honor of his word. "It was Seeva's idea, and all. We'll just go out, stretch our legs, get the little nugget a birthday treat..." Dallum leaned closer to you, ignoring Anakin's stare, which you felt might be searing a hole through the back of your head. "Perfect place to escape the...scrutiny, of the Temple, if you know what I mean." He pulled back, giving Anakin a wink, and mouthed eight PM quite obviously before turning back to his Master.

You turned around, walking toward the mess hall, Anakin following. "What did he mean by that?" you asked, puzzled. You felt a hint of discomfort enter Anakin's presence.

"I'm not sure," he said. You shrugged. "Do you want to go?" Anakin asked, watching you as you made your way toward breakfast. You nodded.

"I haven't seen Eha in ages," you said, longingly, missing your friend. "What could go wrong, right?"

***

You waited, your cloak's hood up, hiding behind a pillar on the steps leading into the temple. No one was around, coming in or out, but that could change at any moment, and you didn't want to be seen. You listened, hearing laughter.

"Y/N, this isn't a dangerous mission. We're just going to get dessert," you heard a laughing voice say from behind you.

"Eha!" you squealed, trying to remember to quiet yourself as you ran into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"I missed you too," Eha said, hugging you back, jumping up and down in her excitement. You saw others coming up from behind Eha, and you looked around, making sure none of the Masters happened to be leaving the Temple for an evening stroll.

"What, I don't get a hug?" Seeva asked, their small voice like bell chimes, their cute pointed face in a grin.

"Happy Birthday Seev," you smiled, pulling them into a tight grip. Seeva was even smaller than you were, with delicate features, and short, straight hair that curled around their face. You were having a hard time believing they were now the same age as you.

"Well, come on, we don't want to get caught," you heard Anakin say from behind the group, looking uncomfortable.

"Always the buzzkill, you are," Dallum said rowdily, running down the stairs, stopping behind Eha to tickle her sides. She jumped.

"Wait!" a small voice pealed from the top of the stairs.

"Oh, come on, Dal," you said, sounding exasperated, "you sprung Leve?" Leve jumped down each step, looking excited. She was still a youngling, having not yet been chosen to become a Padawan, and sneaking her out of the crowded youngling bunks certainly added a level of risk to your endeavor. Padawans were afforded small, private rooms of their own in the dormitory, making it easier to come and go without being seen.

"She's part of the group," Dal said honorably, faking a sense of decorum.

"I invited her," Seeva said firmly, putting their arm around Leve's neck and starting off the bottom step.

"What about Yumi?" Leve asked, looking around.

"She's still out on assignment," Dallum said, waving his hand airily. "It's just us tonight."

"Let's go!" Eha whispered, grabbing your hand and leaping forward, and you couldn't help but laugh. You glanced around one more time, but you only saw Anakin and Dallum behind you, no Knights, no one who could protest your leaving the Temple.

You all walked through the streets of upper Coruscant. You'd explored the city some before, most of the time with your Master, though younglings were occasionally taken out on excursions. You'd also stepped out a few times unsupervised, you could admit—as much as you knew yourself to be a rule follower, Padawans were known to sneak out time and again, and you weren't going to miss out on the fun.

Dallum, who was 18 and therefore allowed out on his own, led everyone through the maze of city streets to a small late night diner.

"Why are we all the way out here?" Anakin asked him, and you sensed that Anakin spent more time out in the city than he was supposed to.

"Less likely to be seen out here," Dallum answered, "by any meandering Jedi, that is." It was true that this area did seem a bit more run down than the streets closer to the Temple, but the diner you all entered was well-kept, and had a clean and friendly atmosphere. You took Seeva and Leve's cloaks, hanging them on a hook near the door with your own, while Dallum went up to the counter with his credits. Eha led everyone to a large, circular booth in the back.

The diner was a lively place. You saw Twi-leks laughing raucously around a table full of drinks and fried rycrit meat; you saw a Gran who looked like he was deep in conversation with a Wookie, both of them gesturing wildly with their arms; you even saw a few species you couldn't identify. You slid into the booth between Anakin and Seeva, looking around at the scene. If you had been here with Master Yuma, you would have asked her to tell you about these unknowns. You knew it was rude to stare, but you admired the atmosphere. There was a lot about the galaxy you still didn't know.

"Dallum!" you chastised hastily, as you watched Dallum arrive with a circular tray of glasses filled with a mysterious liquid.

"Relax, Y/N," Dallum said obnoxiously. "It's Blumfruit juice, see?" He held up one of the glasses. You tried to loosen your shoulders, passing the juices around the table.

"To Seeva," Eha sounded, holding her glass up in front of her.

"To Seeva!" you all happily agreed, and you drank. The juice was sweet.

"Y/N, tell me about Muunilinst," Seeva said excitedly, turning to you. "You saw Henry, right? How is he?" You smiled down at Seeva, feeling Anakin's presence beside you. You had returned from Muunilinst over a month ago, but you weren't sure if this might still be a sore subject.

"He seems like he's doing really well," you told Seeva's innocent face, "aside from the blaster wound, that is."

"What?" Seeva squeaked. You laughed, beginning the story. As you talked, a few plates of appetizers came to the table, and you ate excitedly. It wasn't often you got to eat food that wasn't from the Temple. Temple food was never fried in delicious oils and covered in salt. You licked your fingers, enjoying yourself.

"It was actually Anakin who stopped the assassin from hitting Henry in the chest," you continued, turning to the boy next to you. Seeva looked at him in wonder.

"Really?" they asked, eyes wide. Anakin smiled at them. "How do you stop a blaster from firing?"

"He didn't," you explained. "He stopped the bullet in mid-air." You saw Anakin's face turn pink beside you, felt the joy and pride in his presence at hearing you speak this way. The conversation turned elsewhere, you asking Leve about her training. You wished you could see your fellows more often, but the life of a Jedi was complicated, busy. You savored these moments of reunion.

"Eha, please tell me you'll be back for a while?" you asked her, turning in her direction. She blushed as you turned your attention on her, and this confused you.

"I hope so," Eha said, Dallum chuckling beside her.

"I've missed you," you told her honestly, and as she looked back at you, you felt there was something unsaid in her presence—felt her emotions reaching out to you, wanting to tell you something, but holding back. You looked at her, quizzically, but she turned away, looking at the floor.

It was only then that you realized you could see Dallum's hand intertwined with Eha's, partially concealed by the table. Dallum seemed to be stroking her hand with his thumb. You balked at the sight. What is going on? You turned to look at Seeva, who gave you a knowing smile and a shrug. You didn't understand.

"I'm going to use the toilet. I'll be back in a few minutes," Eha said, sounding giggly, but slightly uncomfortable. She peeled herself out of the booth, walking in the direction of the diner's entrance.

"I—me too," Dallum said, laughing nervously, and he too left the booth, following Eha toward the door.

"What's with them?" you asked, turning from Anakin to Seeva. Both shrugged, but both were smiling, and you felt something in their emotions, part squirm, part laughter. It was like...an embarrassed kind of pleasure, the feeling permeating the table. Leve ate her food quietly.

"I'm going after them," you said, gesturing to Seeva to let you out of the booth.

"Y/N, wait," Anakin said, getting up with you, grabbing onto your arm. You pulled your arm free.

"I want to know what's going on," you said simply, though you had a feeling Eha had been keeping something from you—something big.

As you reached the doorway of the restaurant, you felt yourself pulled into the corner. "ANI—" you started to shout, your heart beating, but Dallum slapped his hand over your mouth. Eha was standing next to him, having just grabbed Anakin's arm, pulling him into the corner with you. You turned around, looking at Dallum in confusion. He took his hand off your mouth and put a finger to his lips in a silent "shh", then pointed back in the direction of the doorway.

Your stomach dropped. You watched as Master Plo entered the diner, walking directly toward the booth where Seeva and Leve sat, enjoying their food. Eha and Dallum must have seen him outside, you reasoned, and it didn't seem that Master Plo thought to look into the corner, in your direction. You saw Seeva and Leve looking up at the Jedi in horror as he sat down opposite them. Their faces hung as he spoke, and you imaged that he was giving them a stern talking-to.

"Come on," Eha whispered, "he hasn't seen us." Eha pulled you and Anakin out of the diner, Dallum following, and all of you jogged down the street, darting in and out of alleyways, running until you were at least a few blocks away, out of earshot, and unlikely to run into Master Plo should he exit the diner with your fellows.

"Poor Seeva," you said, feeling terrible, "poor Leve. This is all our fault."

"Master Plo will go easy on them," Dallum reasoned, "easier than he would go on us, at least."

"I still feel bad," Eha said, her face puckered.

"It won't do them any good to get ourselves in trouble, too," Anakin said, and you knew this made sense.

"He'll get them home safe," Dallum said cheerfully. "Which means," he continued, grinning impishly, "that the night is young, and the little ones will be in bed." He swung around the nearby pole of a streetlamp, apparently trying to seem suave, though the overall effect was quite clumsy. "Where should we go?" Anakin stood behind you, watching you, waiting for your reaction.

"Absolutely not," you said, shaking your head. "As soon as the coast is clear, we're heading back to the Temple."

"Oh, come on, don't be boring, Y/N," Dallum whined.

"I mean it," you said, your tone firm. "I don't want to get into any more trouble."

"Ugh, the two of you are always such killjoys," Dallum said to you and Anakin. "What is it about being the top of the class that makes you so un-fun."

"Hey," Eha chided. "Be nice to my friend." Dallum shut his mouth. You grabbed Eha by the arm, pulling her ahead of Dallum and Anakin.

"I really have missed you," Eha said, putting her head into your shoulder as you walked, arm in arm, linked. The two of you started a slow procession toward the Temple, feeling Anakin and Dallum following behind you.

"I wish we could be together all the time," you said, and you meant it. "Why is it we're never assigned to missions together? I'm paired with Anakin every other week," you continued, laughing.

"I don't know," Eha said, her voice growing quiet. "Listen, Y/N...A lot has changed since the last time we were both back here."

"Yeah," you said, ready for her to come clean, "about that—"

But you didn't get the chance to finish your thought. Everything happened so quickly, it felt like one millisecond, and also like it happened in slow motion, your quick reflexes taking everything in with minute detail. You heard the glass smash on the ground, saw two dark shapes moving around you, and felt the orange particles moving up into your airways. Someone had smashed a small vial of Spice onto the ground in front of you and Eha, and before you knew it. there were arms around you, picking your body up off the ground.

You reacted instinctively. Using the Force to loosen the man's grip, you took your lightsaber from your belt, working quickly and swinging accurately. You slashed the man's arm that was holding you, and then both of his legs, on the sides, giving him deep burns that would prevent him from using his limbs temporarily, but wouldn't maim him completely. He was on the ground, writhing in pain, when you turned to Eha, who had been grabbed by the other attacker. Dallum got there first.

"You will never touch her," Dallum said, his voice cold and angry, his white lightsaber lit and held high in the air. You felt Anakin on your other side, his blade held up as well, felt the anger in his familiar Force presence rising. "You will never touch either of them, or it will be the last thing you do." The Force command Dallum infused into his voice was shocking. He was really becoming a Jedi.

The man who had attempted to grab Eha looked down at his companion, the man you had attacked, writhing on the ground.

"Guess we chose wrong, tonight," the man in front of Dallum said in a nasty voice, looking at you, Anakin, and Dallum with your lightsabers lit. He glanced back once at his companion, and then ran in the other direction. You felt Anakin's intentions before he could enact them.

"Anakin, no," you said, grabbing onto his arm, trying to thwart his attempt to follow the man. You felt Anakin's anger, felt him thinking of all the ways he would like to kill this person who had tried to attack you, but your senses were beginning to cloud. You looked around, saw no more evidence of the orange Spice in the air, but felt a funny feeling in your airways.

"He could attempt to attack someone else," Anakin said, his voice shaking, his anger palpable.

"It's not the Jedi way, mate," Dallum said, trying to reason with him. "We don't deliver vigilante justice." Dallum turned his attention to Eha. "Are you all right, beautiful?"

Eha's eyes looked funny. You watched as her pupils dilated and then shrank, over and over again. Dallum looked at the broken vial on the ground, and then back to Eha.

"Spice," he told you and Anakin, but you felt all of a sudden as if the world were shrinking in front of you, as if your vision was being stretched by a long tube. You tried to look at your friends, or speak, but you felt frozen by the intoxicating sensation.

"Little flea, you don't look so good," Anakin told you, taking a step closer to look you over and make sure you weren't hurt.

"Dal," Eha said, and you turned your head back to her, slowly, watching her form swim in front of your eyes. "Dal, that was amazing, you—you saved me—" and with those words, Eha collapsed into Dallum's arms, kissing him enthusiastically. Dallum responded with as much enthusiasm, holstering his lightsaber and wrapping his arms around Eha. You watched, confused, but the two of them changed color in your vision, first becoming blue, then becoming pink, then fading into bubbles around you.

Oh no, you thought to yourself. I hope they don't pop.

"We've got to get them back to the Temple, where they'll be safe," Anakin said loudly, trying to interrupt Eha and Dallum's long embrace.

“We can’t go back to the Temple like this,” you heard yourself say, from far away, bubbles floating all around you. “We’d be expelled from the Order.”

"Well, we can't stay here," Anakin said, sounding worried, looking around the darkened street, as if expecting more attackers to emerge at any second.

"Find somewhere to wait it out," Dallum said, his cheesy grin looking funny through your Spice haze. Eha starting pulling on his chin, trying to bring his face back to hers. "You'll take care of wormy, yeah?" Dallum asked, looking reluctantly back at Anakin and gesturing toward you with his head, his hands moving around Eha's waist. Anakin nodded, and Dallum turned back, kissing Eha passionately against the wall of the building behind them.

"Come on, Y/N," Anakin said gruffly, looking around. "We'll...we'll find a safe place." He waited for you to come with him, his arm outstretched to lead you, but you felt oddly planted to where you stood, as if you had become a tree. You looked down at your arms, and they were branches.

"Oh," you said softly, waving your branches, feeling the leaves moving, rustling with the wind. "Pretty..."

Anakin drew his face closer to yours, looking into your eyes. "Oh boy," he breathed. "Okay...um, let's try this." Anakin moved in front of you and knelt, reaching behind him with his arms to gently pull at the spots behind your knees. The pressure of his hands caused you to fall forward, against his back. Surprised, you grabbed hold of his shoulders to steady yourself, and he stood up, lifting you into a piggy back.

"Woah," you giggled, watching as your vines combined with Anakin's vines. "It's...it's an..." you struggled to find the words as your limbs flowered. "It's an epiphyte."

"Uh huh," Anakin grunted, carrying you along with him as he looked around. "Okay, I have an idea. Hang on, flea." He tightened his grip around your right leg and let go of your left, but you weren't concerned. Your vines were gripping his tightly, one plant growing on top of another as he climbed up a ladder, up onto the roof of one of the smaller buildings nearby. When you both reached the rooftop, Anakin swung you off of his back, holding onto you, looking around.

"This is fine," Anakin said, still sounding concerned, but seeming calmer. "Can you stand?" Anakin let go of you, and as he did, you sunk into yourself. Anakin caught you under your arms as you fell to your knees.

"Gods, Y/N," Anakin said through his breath. "Remind me never to do Spice." Anakin laid you down gently, onto your back on the surface of the roof, and then dropped to a seated position near to you, his arms around his knees.

"No, Ani, no," you said breathlessly, shaking your head against the hard metal of the Coruscanti roof, your hair splayed out under you. "It's wonderful." You lay looking up at the stars, feeling like you could see the entire galaxy. All of it was moving, forming different shapes, different planetary systems, all of the matter exploding and reforming in front of your eyes. You remembered that you were seeing back in time.

"Was Eha...were Eha and Dal...was that real?" you asked, the words coming out of you slowly.

"Yeah," Anakin said, his tone slightly bitter, infused with some other emotion you couldn't identify through your stupor.

"That's so weird," you said, your eyes watering as you felt the Spice moving through you. "She used to hate him. And it's...it's not allowed." You felt a pleasant smile sit on your face. Though you knew there might be a part of yourself deep within that was upset about Eha, and you knew the presence of Spice in your veins should be causing you to panic, all you felt was a contented, euphoric lens over everything, as if life were suddenly being colored, the motion capture covered by a painted, translucent fabric. It was a lovely sensation. You felt it in your ears.

"Technically, Jedi are allowed to kiss," Anakin said, sounding the tiniest bit grumpy.

"I've never understood the difference," you admitted, watching the swirling vortexes above you collide together. You could hear it in your mind—the sound these nebulas in the sky made, as they hit each other's edges. It was a beautiful tinkling.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" The Spice visions were distracting you from Anakin's presence as it began to swell beside you. It took you a moment to understand his question. You shook your head.

"No. And I doubt I ever will," you said honestly, through your haze, feeling the most comfortable calm washing over you, the light show in space changing colors.

"Why?"

"What I just said, about attachment...kissing..." you lost your head for a moment, putting your hands up above you, pulling at the shapes in the sky. They moved with your touch. "Look!" you gasped, grabbing Anakin's wrist. His heart was beating heavily through the sleeves of his tunic, his pulse fast. You pointed up at the sky with your other hand, wanting to show Anakin the lights, but all of a sudden, they were gone.

"Oh," you said mournfully, letting go of Anakin and dropping your other arm. "Never mind." The Spice haze was shifting so quickly, it was hard to keep up.

“Y/N, do you hate me?” Anakin asked, his voice quiet, his breathing uneven. You felt confused by how much everything was spinning around you. Ani's words didn't make much sense. It took you a while, in your mind, to piece together what he was asking.

"Hate you?" You turned toward the boy sitting beside your supine figure, crinkling your face. You could see Anakin, but his outline seemed fuzzy, like it was moving, or perhaps like it contained another dimension that it didn’t have normally, one with more colors. "No. I don’t hate you, Ani," you sighed, truthfully, all of a sudden feeling very heavy in your head, your arms, and your legs. Anakin sat watching you, his presence uncharacteristically passive, his eyes sincere. “You do bother me sometimes,” you admitted, thinking it through slowly, the cogs stuck together in your intoxicated mind. “Sometimes it seems like you want to. You know, bother me." You watched the world turn inside out through your lashes, and felt it, too. Your lips struggled with words. You felt a bit like jelly. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling. The Spice inside you was creating a little tornado of happiness. You worked to keep your mind focused on the conversation. "Why is that?” You looked back at Anakin and saw he was smiling, looking quite pleased.

“I don’t know, exactly,” he said, his eyes downcast, his smile seeming unintentional. You rolled your eyes at him. This made you a bit dizzy.

You held your arms up on both sides of you, to steady yourself. All of a sudden, you forgot there was roof beneath you—it felt like you were floating in space, the distant galaxies floating with you.

"What are you doing?" Anakin asked, through his laughter. You realized that you were not floating. Disappointed, you put your arms down, blinking your eyes.

All of a sudden you felt through the haze a concentrated effort on Anakin’s part—his thoughts turned to you, his emotions becoming stronger as if he himself was turning the dial up on the volume. His Force presence was all but shouting at you, and you knew he was doing it intentionally. You felt these emotions of his moving through you, and you felt as if you were inside Anakin, feeling all of these feelings with him. You couldn’t just read them—it was almost as if you were his feelings of adoration, desire, want, insecurity. It was almost as if these same feelings were coming from somewhere deep inside you, as well as from him. You shook your head to clear it.

"What?" Anakin asked, part cautious, part hopeful.

"I…I can’t tell what you’re thinking,” you lied. You kept your tone convincing, even through the drug’s influence. Anakin laughed.

“I guess Spice really does a number on you.” You felt the world spin, but not in a nauseating way. Anakin waited, his breathing halted, as if he was trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say.

“Didn’t you feel it, though?" he began, and you felt his emotions swell inside him, a wave that refused to crash, his feelings growing bigger and bigger. "When we met? Didn’t you see that we would be—"

You waited for him to finish, seeing things in the stars, things you shouldn’t be seeing. "That we would be in each other’s lives,” he continued, “that we would be a part of each other’s stories.”

Of course you’d felt it, but the Spice haze had begun to shift, and you were gaining back your ability to remember to hide your true feelings and emotions.

“I do remember the day you came to the Temple,” you said honestly. “I felt something before I’d even seen you…I could feel your—" you paused, realizing this might be too honest. “I could feel your sadness.”

The wave crashed, but not in a devastating way. Anakin's Force presence shrank, and you knew he felt vulnerable, raw. You felt him casting around in his mind, trying to decide on the right thing to say in response.

“So you admit it," he smiled, his voice refusing to betray the stormy ocean within him. "That we’re friends.”

“Yes, we’re friends,” you said, smiling in spite of yourself. The Spice haze was definitely beginning to fade slightly, leaving in its place a tired gladness, a relaxed feeling, a sweet and innocent enjoyment. "You could try, though, you know,” you told him, turning to look him in the eye. “Not to be so irritating.”

“Deal,” Anakin said, smiling.

A long period of quiet passed between you, you enjoying the feeling of regaining your senses, Anakin lost in thought. His thoughts were quite pleasant, and something about the haze, or the evening, or perhaps a shift between the two of you allowed you to feel his thoughts without fear, or judgement, or anger. It wasn't so bad, you thought, to be beside him now.

"Are you ready to go home, little flea?" Anakin whispered, breaking the long silence after a while. You nodded, shifting, trying to sit up.

"That’s not home," you said, pulling yourself to a standing position, relieved your muscles had begun to work again. Anakin stood as well, considering your words thoughtfully.

"I suppose you’re right," Anakin replied, looking out over the Coruscanti skyline in the direction of the Temple. He was quiet for a moment, and you felt his thoughts move toward his mother. It was a tender feeling. It made you want to pull him into your arms. You breathed in and out, trying to expel this certain urge.

"Thanks," you said, and at this, he turned back to look at you. "You know," you smiled, "for not leaving me to rot, in a Spice haze, in a ditch somewhere."

Anakin grinned down at you. "What are friends for?"

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Warnings: tiny hint of jealous READER (oh boy guys), other than that nuthin aside from angsty teen feelings

Word Count: 3.4k

"You're lagging, Y/N." You swung your lightsaber harder, sweating, your arm muscles aching. Master Yuma stood in a defensive stance, barely deterred by your attack. She turned her thoughts to you, looking you over.

"I am not tired!" you shouted, exasperated. You knew what she was trying to do, and you hated that it was working.

"You must understand," Master Yuma said calmly, swinging around with one foot out to try to deal a blow to your lower half. You jumped. "Our kind of gift can become a curse, if in the hands of a perceptive enemy." Master Yuma's words rang through the training room, bouncing off the walls, circling you. You knew this was an illusion—knew that this echo you felt was in your mind, as you read Master Yuma's emotions, and she read yours. Training with a Master like this—one who held similar gifts to you—was unlike anything you'd ever experienced, in the Force. Your emotions were like ping pong balls—you felt Master Yuma read them, and they bounced back to you as you read them from within her, in an endless, infinite game of emotional pong. Her emotions were accessible to you, as well, but Master Yuma had spent years perfecting her patience. No emotion she read in you was able to break her focus.

"Concentrate, Y/N, on allowing the thoughts to come and go," Master Yuma instructed, swinging again in perfect form, her braids gracefully floating in the air as she spun. As you blocked her lightsaber, you felt her thoughts shift to a familiar environment. You felt as if the wind had been knocked from your stomach, though Master Yuma had not dealt you a blow. You could smell the trees, hear the sounds of the creatures moving through the forest. You felt as if you could almost reach out and touch the golden lichen you felt in Master Yuma's mind. She was thinking of Batuu. She was thinking of your home.

"If I can distract you this way," Master Yuma said, dealing you another blow with her saber that you blocked clumsily, "think of what an enemy might be able to do to you, with their mind." You shook these thoughts from your head, trying again to swing your lightsaber toward Master Yuma.

You grunted as you danced through the air, your swinging saber blade not spinning fast enough to get through Master Yuma's defenses. You felt her thoughts shift again, and your stomach squirmed. You sucked in a sharp breath. She was thinking of you—she was dwelling on you, your own feelings, watching you in her mind, watching you talk to—

"Ugh!" you roared, trying your hardest to swing your saber, to make it work the way you wanted it to work in your mind, but it was no use. You grew clumsier and clumsier in your anger, your frustration. She was thinking of Anakin, to distract you. You felt her thoughts shift once more, felt with horror as Master Yuma dwelled on her own visions, her own meditations of the future, a future in which you and Anakin—

"No!" you screamed, mortified, and you'd lost control of the fight. You swung your blade around you, your anger flowing freely, and Master Yuma blocked your blow with ease, sending your lightsaber out of your hand.

You huffed, standing in front of your Master, feeling your frustration turn to shame. It wasn't that you minded, so much, when Master Yuma bested you. But you'd lost control of yourself, given yourself over to anger, anger that lapped at your insides still when you thought of the visions Master Yuma had seen, visions she herself had never mentioned to you.

"Are you okay?" Master Yuma asked you quietly, walking over to pick up your lightsaber. As Master Yuma's feelings shifted, you realized she hadn't meant to dwell on her meditative visions of the future. She felt remorseful, now. She'd unintentionally shown you what she'd seen, through the Force. But now it was too late. Now you knew.

"I think I just need a...moment," you told your Master, trying to control yourself, trying to show her that you could be patient, could swallow your anger, your embarrassment. It was hard. The feelings of humiliation, of insecurity, of fear stung you behind your eyes. You felt like crying. You sat down on the bench in the training room, your head in your hands, shaking.

Master Yuma came and sat next to you, rubbing your back. You trusted your Master more than you trusted anyone. She was like family to you—like a mother, a father, and a teacher, all at once. You knew you didn't need to keep things from her, but you felt so vulnerable as you were now, a 16-year-old with insides that constantly felt as if they were swirling, a whirlpool of emotions, ever-shifting. What she'd seen in the future—

"The future is ever-changing, young one," Master Yuma said, trying to calm you. "No vision through the Force is ever set in stone." This did not do much to settle your mind. If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that the feelings you saw yourself exhibit in Master Yuma's vision were inside you now, very deep down, buried under everything you'd intentionally stacked over them. But you didn't ever want to feel that way about anyone. The Jedi Order—the Order you'd devoted your life to, the commitment you'd made—

You heard the door to the training room open, and felt the presence who entered take in the scene, his contentedness turning to shock, and then fear.

"Y/N?" Anakin said quickly, crossing the room as you lifted your head from your shaking hands. "Are you all right? What's wrong? Why—why are you—"

You could barely look at Anakin. Not right now, not right after you'd seen what you'd seen. You tried to speak, but nothing came out. You nodded your head, looking down, your eyes burning. Anakin looked wildly to Master Yuma, clearly wondering what it was that could possibly have upset you like this—you, who were usually so very much in control.

"Everything's fine," Master Yuma said, infusing in her words a Force command that meant drop it. Anakin seemed to intuit the warning.

"We're...we're supposed to be briefed." Anakin said slowly, though you still refused to look at him. "We've been assigned another mission."

"Y/N," Master Yuma told you, patting your shoulder, "I'm ordering you to return to your quarters. I'll fill you in on the mission in a few hours, all right? Go rest, and meditate." You nodded, thanking your Master internally for granting you some time away from Anakin's presence—away from anyone's presence.

You stood up, nodding vaguely in Anakin's direction before walking quickly from the room, your eyes still slightly wet from embarrassment. You walked through the halls of the Temple, moving quickly.

So Master Yuma knew more than she had let on—that much was clear. It was obvious to you, now, that Master Yuma would have been able to read Anakin's emotions the same way you had. It made sense that she would know of Anakin's...feelings. They were obvious, often right at the front of his Force presence. But the fact that Master Yuma had read feelings in you as well—feelings you yourself refused to even acknowledge, certain as you were, that these were just Anakin's feelings overlapping into your presence—the fact that she had meditated, that she had seen a future in which you and Anakin were—

No you thought firmly, zipping these thoughts shut, banishing them to the back of your mind, where they belonged. Your commitment was to the Jedi Order. You, from the time you were very small, had wanted nothing more than to be the best Jedi you could be. You still desired this with every part of yourself: desired to help bring peace to the Republic, desired to fight against injustice, desired to commit yourself fully to your ideals, the ideals of the Jedi. You would not let anything get in the way of that. It didn't matter what Master Yuma had seen. The future was never set in stone. You refused to let yourself give it another thought. As you packed up these feelings and stowed them away, you began to feel at peace once again. Anakin Skywalker could be your friend, you reasoned, but never anything more.

***

You waited by the eastern hangar, your feet planted in a strong stance, your hands behind your back. Master Yuma stood next to you, feeling your attempts to rid yourself of anxiety, pushing out calm with the Force to try to aid you. You breathed in connectedness, wisdom, acceptance. You breathed out anger, frustration, attachment. You were one with the Force. When your companions arrived, you would be calm, cool, and collected, ready to depart with professionalism for your mission to Hoth.

Anakin and Master Obi-Wan walked through the doors to the hangar, the latter looking confident and at ease, as usual, the former bouncing on his feet, looking like he couldn't keep still. Both walked up to you, and Anakin gave you what appeared to be a shy smile.

"Feeling better?" Anakin asked you, and you felt a sense of nervousness in his presence as he looked you over. You nodded curtly, trying to communicate to him that your emotional outburst was not to be discussed here, or ever. Anakin seemed to read your stoicism as amusing, his smile growing wider.

"We're waiting for one more," Master Obi-Wan said, and you turned to him, confused. You hadn't known another Jedi Knight would be joining you.

"Who?" you asked.

"The Council has requested that Master Garris's Padawan join us, since he is currently off-world," Master Yuma told you, and you felt your body freeze up.

"Heya peewee," you heard a teasing voice say from behind you, and you turned, reluctantly, to take in the form of your former classmate. To say that Yumi had yet to warm to you would be...an understatement. Yumi was not like Eha, nor was she much like yourself—she was calculating, harsh, and did not entertain other's perspectives, nor did she feel the need to be careful with other's feelings. She was very beautiful, tall and thin, her face angular, her face lifting upwards at the sides, but in her presence you felt a coldness that you did not particularly enjoy. Still, you knew everyone, in their deepest parts of themselves, desired kindness, and care, and you had always tried to give these things to Yumi, which, it seemed, made her distaste for you grow. She walked toward you now, her perfectly neat hair chopped in an angled bob, her smile slightly malicious. You unconsciously put your hand up to your own hair, but felt it was as wild as ever, thick and going in every direction. You put your hand back down self-consciously.

"Hi, Yumi," you said, smiling at her with all the warmth you could muster.

"Been a while," Yumi said casually, looking you over. "Puberty's getting a bit carried away with you, I see," she remarked, gesturing to your chest. You blushed, crossing your arms. You could admit that your body had begun to grow in certain places, curves planting themselves on you like unwelcome growths. Still, you didn't know why Yumi needed to comment on it.

"Good to see you too," you replied, keeping your face stony. Yumi turned her attention to Anakin.

"And we're being graced by the presence of the Chosen One?" Yumi said, with mock flattery, putting her hand to her chest. Anakin laughed, looking down in discomfort. "Speaking of puberty," Yumi said, not taking her eyes off Anakin. "When did you get so tall?" She walked over, looking at him closely, "and handsome?" Yumi put her hand on Anakin's bicep, feeling his muscle. You felt yourself suck in your breath involuntarily.

"Uh, thanks?" Anakin said, smiling, looking over to you. You looked away quickly.

"Ready to depart?" Master Obi-Wan asked the group, and you nodded nervously.

As the ship took off, you all sat in the main hull around the flight holo, Yumi sitting between you and Anakin. You felt your hair again, trying in vain to flatten it, wondering why it always needed to move in every direction.

"So, most of us have been briefed," Master Obi-Wan said. You looked at Master Yuma guiltily. "But to reiterate—we believe there is a crime syndicate presence on Hoth, a remote planet in the Outer Rim."

"Only primitive species are indigenous to Hoth," Master Yuma continued for him, "and there are no known naturally occurring resources there that would be of any value."

"So why is there a crime syndicate presence there?" you asked, wrinkling your eyebrows.

"We don't know," Master Obi-Wan said. "We believe they might be searching for something of great importance—we have only theories, but—"

"But, if those theories are correct, it will be crucial for the Republic to prevent the crime syndicate from acquiring this mystery resource," Master Yuma finished. You nodded.

"We'll be splitting up into two groups," Master Obi-Wan explained. "Anakin and I will take the Speedster 1 to the explore the southern face of the planet, and Y/N, Master Yuma, and Yumi will—"

"Actually, Obi-Wan, I feel that my Padawan and I should split up," Master Yuma interrupted. "If we meet anyone unwelcoming, I believe our Force intuition might become useful in preventing a violent confrontation." Obi-Wan nodded, thinking this over.

"Okay, Anakin, you go with Master Yuma and Yumi to explore the northern side in the Speedster 2. Y/N and I will take the southern side." You felt Yumi's presence next to you growing, feeling in her a joyful confidence, as well as—as well as something you'd rarely felt in the presence of other Jedi, something that made you feel very uncomfortable indeed. Your thoughts jumped to Dallum and Eha. You felt an urge to suggest that Anakin go with you and Obi-Wan, but you couldn't think of any reason why this suggestion would make sense, so you kept quiet.

"We'll leave the ship in orbit, and reconvene here to report our findings," Obi-Wan said. "Keep your comms on." You felt Master Yuma's eyes on you, and you pushed your thoughts from your head, using your practiced meditation techniques to let them blow away from you, as if in the wind. Master Yuma sighed.

"Prepare yourselves," Master Yuma told all of you, "for anything."

***

"You know," Yumi said, "I've never been a fan of the cold." Anakin watched the Speedster 2 zooming away from the ship out of the viewport. He knew you and Master Obi-Wan were aboard, heading for the other side of the planet. He sighed, entering the Speedster 1 with Yumi and Master Yuma.

"It looks freezing down there," Yumi continued, sitting down in the small ship next to Anakin while Master Yuma sat in the pilot's seat. Yumi scooted closer to him, so that her legs and arms were touching his.

"We aren't even on the planet yet," Anakin said, feeling awkward.

"Still best to try to conserve warmth, now," Yumi responded, settling in right up against Anakin's side.

The journey down to the surface took no time at all. Anakin watched through the viewport as the icy tundra grew closer, feeling Yumi's heart beating very close to his. He wondered if the southern side of the planet looked as barren and unwelcoming as the northern side did.

They touched down near a rocky cluster that provided some, but very little, shelter from the snowstorm around them. Master Yuma instructed the Padawans to put on heavy coats and pants, gloves, hats, goggles, and handed out packs with emergency snow supplies.

"We'll explore this area, to see if we can find any clues as to what the crime syndicates might be searching for, here," Master Yuma told Anakin and Yumi. "Don’t stray too far from the ship. Once we've explored this sector, we'll get back in the Speedster and search the next one, farther east." Master Yuma patted her comm in her side pocket. "Signal if anything looks amiss. And stick together, you two."

Anakin nodded once at Master Yuma, wishing, now, that the pairings could have been chosen differently. He didn't like the idea of you, out there in this snowstorm by yourself. He of course knew you to be very capable, but he had a weird feeling about this place. He'd never liked the cold, and he certainly had a distaste for windstorms, whether they contained sand or snow.

"Good luck," Master Yuma said as she opened the ramp of the Speedster, heading out into the snowstorm.

"Come on," Yumi said, grabbing Anakin's hand and pulling him out in the other direction. Anakin followed her, deftly pulling his gloved hand out of hers.

"What are we looking for, anyway?" Anakin asked, watching the snow swirling around him as they walked.

"I guess anything that isn't...well, this," Yumi replied, gesturing to the white surrounding them. The two of them walked on for a bit, trying to see through the snow.

"You know, I've heard a lot about you," Yumi told Anakin as the wind died down a bit.

"You have?" Anakin asked, his insides squirming a bit. He couldn't say why, but Yumi made him feel the slightest bit uncomfortable.

"Sure I have. You're the best," Yumi said, smiling, and Anakin's heart jumped at this praise.

"Well, thanks," he said, looking out through the snow. "It seems like the storm is dying down. That might make it easier to look."

"I'd heard about how talented you were, obviously," Yumi continued, "but no one told me you were so good-looking." Anakin turned to face Yumi, who smiled sweetly at him.

"Um," Anakin said, feeling his face flush inside his goggles.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Yumi asked him, batting her eyelashes innocently. The effect was not quite as powerful as intended, seeing as Yumi's eyes were shielded by the orange of the snow goggles. Anakin shook his head, swallowing the saliva that had just entered his mouth, pushing away his thoughts of you.

"Really?" Yumi asked, laughing, walking forward through the snow. "That's funny. I thought the Padawans would be all over you." The snow slowed even more, to a light dusting, exposing the tiniest bit of blue sky above the mountains far ahead. Yumi seemed to be waiting for Anakin to say something, but he didn't know what, so he kept walking forward, looking around at the snowy landscape.

"You're 17, right?" Yumi asked. Anakin nodded, looking back to her. "Me too," Yumi answered, though he hadn't said anything. She waited, stopping in the snow. Anakin stopped too, looking back at her, confused.

"You know, it's quite beautiful here," Yumi said, walking slowly toward him, "when it isn't storming." She got closer to Anakin, looking him in the eyes. "That little hint of blue sky up there," she continued, gesturing to the hole in the clouds, "is the same blue I see in your eyes." Yumi put a hand up and brushed some of the hair escaping his hat across Anakin's forehead. Her face was growing closer. Anakin tried to take a step back.

"Does anybody copy?" a frantic voice said through the comms, and Anakin and Yumi both jumped. Anakin clumsily tried to get his comm out of his front pocket, but his thick gloves made it difficult.

"There's something out here!" Anakin heard your panicked voice say, through the comm, "I need a pickup—something's—ahh!" Anakin heard the swing of a lightsaber, and what sounded like a roar. He felt as if his throat had dropped to the ground, fear swelling around him.

"Y/N!" Anakin yelled into the comm that he had finally freed from the jacket pocket. "Y/N, where are you?" Anakin and Yumi looked at each other in horror as they heard you scream, heard what sounded like a thud as the comm—or perhaps your lightsaber—dropped to the ground.

"Y/N, do you copy?" Anakin yelled, desperate. "Y/N! Come in, Y/N!" He heard nothing but static.

"Master Obi-Wan? Anakin yelled, but there was no response. "Master Obi-Wan, where are you!?" They heard nothing.

"We've got to go get them," Anakin heard Master Yuma's voice ring out through the comm. Anakin heard a fear in her voice, a fear that mirrored the terror shooting through him now. Without looking back at Yumi, Anakin broke into a run. He had to get back to the ship. He had to get to you.

**************

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Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Warnings: alien beast killing, that b**** Yumi again, protective Anakin, soft Anakin, angst level-up, A HAND HOLD OMG

Word Count: 3.5k

Anakin's head was storming, his mouth set, his lips pulled in, his jaw clenched. He couldn't see properly, couldn't think. Where were you? What had attacked you? How far away were they now? Shouldn't they be drawing nearer to you? WHY had he agreed to go with Master Yuma and Yumi, instead of you? Where was Obi-Wan? Why hadn't he been there to protect you? Anakin's head hurt from the swirling, but he kept his focus, his panic freezing his heart, ready for battle. He would find you. He would get to you in time.

A beeping noise broke Anakin from his reverie. It was coming from the comm. He held out his hand, looking at it, confused.

"It's Obi-Wan!" Master Yuma said, turning around in the pilot's seat. She was flying the Speedster 2 through the snowstorm, heading toward the location of your comm's last transmission, before you'd gone silent. The beeping of the comm continued, in a pattern. Anakin slowed his heart rate, reading the beeps.

"It means he's found something, but it isn't safe to turn on his comm," Master Yuma explained, looking at Yumi's confused expression. "Likely because enemy ears aren't far away."

Although Anakin was relieved to hear that Obi-Wan was okay, he couldn't force himself to care about the mission, couldn't care about anything except for finding you. The sound he had heard you make through the comm echoed in his mind. He'd never heard you make a sound like that. He'd never heard you scream in terror.

"I need to find Obi-Wan," Master Yuma said breathlessly, looking as if she were thinking fast. "I will go to the spot where he last dropped the signal," she said, her eyes narrowed, "while you two go find Y/N." She touched the ship down onto the snowy surface.

"But Master—" Anakin started, feeling desperate.

"The mission depends on Obi-Wan and I," Master Yuma said through a pained expression. Jedi were called to always do their duty, no matter the cost. "We have to split up." She picked up her pack, smashing the button to open the ramp of the Speedster 2. Anakin felt his fear rise up in him, realizing that he—along with Yumi—was now your only hope.

"Anakin," Master Yuma said, turning back to look at him, her voice strained. "Bring her back."

A look of understanding passed between Anakin and Master Yuma. He nodded grimly, looking into the eyes of the other person in this galaxy who knew exactly how special you were. Master Yuma was entrusting your rescue to him because she knew Anakin cared for you. He was not going to let her down.

"I will," he said, his voice low, feeling determined. Master Yuma nodded once, as if it caused her pain to turn away, to walk in the other direction.

Anakin pulled his pack up onto his back and walked out into the snow, looking down at his comm. The locator mode had been turned on, and it showed him which direction in which to walk. He started, sprinting quickly through the falling snow. It was storming more on this side of the planet, which was not a good sign.

"Um, are you going to wait for me?" Yumi asked, jogging behind him.

"Try to keep up," Anakin told her, raising his voice so that he could be heard over the storm.

"I don't love the idea of going out and trying to find whatever made that...noise," Yumi said, shivering, looking around when she caught up to Anakin. He paused, looking back down at the locator, then continued on in the same direction.

"Seriously, what are we going to do if that beast—or whatever it is—attacks us, too?" Yumi said, her voice trilling in Anakin's storming brain like the pattering of rain drops on a roof. It was like he could barely hear her, so intense was his focus on finding you.

"If we meet what attacked her," Anakin said darkly, "I will kill it." Yumi breathed heavily, jogging to keep up with his pace, her arms wrapped around herself.

"What if we get there, and she's—what if it's too—"

"No," Anakin growled, turning around to face Yumi at last, seeing fear spark into her eyes at his reaction. "It is not too late. We are going to find her. Now MOVE!" Anakin turned around and broke into a run, hearing Yumi jogging behind him.

The locator started beeping faster as Anakin ran through the snow, his thick boots finding purchase in the freshly fallen powder. He saw a vague shape in front of him through the storm—it looked like the rock formations they'd seen on the northern side of the planet, but they were far away, showing up as dark shadows on the horizon.

"We're getting close," Anakin said, looking around him wildly, seeing only snow flying in every direction. Was it possible the storm was getting worse?

"There!" Yumi shouted at him, over the wind, and Anakin turned, seeing her pointing to a spot in the snow. From this distance, Anakin could see the light blinking, but it was faint. He ran over and bent down.

There was your comm, sitting deeply in the snow. He picked it up, heard the beeping, its response to his locator.

"Anakin," Yumi said, her voice morbid. Anakin turned, trying to manage his fear, but failing. Horror was coursing through his veins.

Yumi was bending to pick up your lightsaber, looking in front of her at a long divot, an indentation in the snow that kept going into the distance, a track that looked like it had been made by something being dragged. The indentation was small, about the size of a 16-year-old girl. Anakin looked back at Yumi, horrified.

***

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Yumi whispered as she followed Anakin into the dark cave. Anakin held up his hand, signaling to her to be quiet.

The two of them had followed the tracks in the snow to the cave's entrance. From what they could glean from the footprints they'd seen alongside the imprint from where you'd been dragged, whatever had taken you was very large, and likely carnivorous.

"Lightsabers?" Yumi whispered from behind him, even more quietly. Anakin could barely see in front of him. He nodded.

Anakin half expected whatever lived in this cave to jump out and attack them the moment they lit their sabers. The light showed nothing in front of them, however, aside from the rocky walls of the cave, everything covered in ice.

The cave was sizable, and, from what Anakin could see from the light of his blue saber and Yumi's yellow one, it led deep into the rock formation.

"Come on," Anakin whispered, holding his lightsaber blade up high, walking slowly, deeper into the cave. The passage began to shrink, getting smaller and smaller around them.

"I don't like this," Yumi said again, and Anakin heard a shift in her voice. He turned back.

"Are you going to help rescue Y/N, or not? Because you can wait here," Anakin asked harshly. Yumi looked back at him with wide eyes.

"I'm coming," she swallowed, lowering her eyebrows at him, looking angry. "I just...don't like tight spaces."

Anakin rolled his eyes. She didn't seem to mind tight spaces when she was practically sitting on top of me, he thought angrily, but he said nothing. He knew this anger at Yumi was nothing more than a displacement of his fears about your fate. Anakin reached out with the Force, feeling out for your presence.

Anakin breathed in sharply. He'd felt something. Something—someone—was up ahead. He walked more quickly through the narrow passageway, felt it begin to open up a bit, into a second, wider cave. He held up his saber blade, casting light around.

"Y/N," Anakin breathed, panic and relief flooding through him all at once. There you were, up ahead of him, hanging from the ceiling of the cave, ice holding your feet in place. You dangled upside down, unconscious, your eyes looking puffy and swollen, your hair falling around you. The cave was just tall enough that Anakin, being quite tall himself, was face to face with you, your figure hanging down opposite him. He quickly took your hand, touched your face, your neck, feeling for a pulse.

"She's alive," Anakin said, barely able to get his words out, his elation and fear and everything swirling through him, almost knocking him off his feet. "She's—"

"AHH!" Yumi screamed from behind him, and Anakin whirled around, his saber held high, as something very large, clawed, and furry swung toward him and hit him in the head. He fell to the icy ground, his blood pumping to the spot on his head that was now very painful. He blinked. He needed to get up.

"Anakin!" he heard Yumi yell, and he saw through blurry eyes as whatever it was that was attacking them grabbed Yumi by the foot and dragged her, pulling her up into its clutches. Anakin's hand tightened around his saber.

The beast was huge, with white fur and sharp teeth, but Anakin wasn't the best swordsman in his rank for nothing. He flew toward the creature, propelled by the Force, propelled by his worry for you, his adoration, his—

Anakin moved expertly through the air, dodging the creature's free hand and slicing with his saber through its neck. The creature made a horrible, gargling growl, and Anakin landed behind it, moving away just in time as the beast fell, its head rolling over into the corner of the cave.

"Blech!" Yumi yelled, getting off of the now headless creature's chest, where she'd fallen. Anakin was already up, running back over to where you hung.

"You...you saved me," Yumi said breathlessly.

"What?" Anakin asked, not fully hearing her, feeling your hands and face again. "She's...she's so cold," he said, worry breaking through his relief at having bested the beast that would no longer be hunting in this region. "Yumi, hold onto her, all right?" Anakin asked, turning to Yumi, grabbing her and bringing her closer to you. Yumi nodded her head, wiping a hurt look from her features. Yumi held her arms out below you as Anakin jumped up, swinging his lightsaber precisely, slashing through the ice that held your feet in place at the top of the cave. As expected, you fell, and Yumi caught you responsibly. Anakin landed, reaching out his arms for you.

"We've...we've got to warm her up..." Anakin said, looking at your face. He moved his hand away from the back of your head and saw blood on his fingers. His eyes widened, and he looked to Yumi.

"Signal to Master Yuma," Anakin said, "without turning on the comm." Anakin looked you over, seeing the bruises on your face, figuring the thing must have hit you pretty hard. He guessed you'd put up a pretty good fight, but out in the snowstorm, where you'd been taken—he knew the creature must have snuck up on you, relying on your blindness in the snow.

"I...I don't know the codes," Yumi said, looking to Anakin for help.

"How do you not know the codes?" Anakin barked, angling your unconscious body so that it rested against him, using his free hand to take out his comm. He signaled, pressing the comm in beeps, in the right order. He told Master Yuma that they'd found you, that you were injured, and that the danger had passed.

"I...I didn't ever pay attention," Yumi admitted, hanging her head. "When we learned them." Her face looked red as she pouted at the ground. "I wasn't a know-it-all teacher's pet, like Y/N."

"What did you call her?" Anakin asked, breathing in sharply, looking at Yumi as if he were seeing her clearly for the first time.

"Well, it's not like it did her a lot of good today," Yumi said, looking Anakin in the eye, lowering her tone to a casual, snide drawl. Anakin started breathing faster, feeling his anger rising inside of him.

"She—she is—" Anakin sputtered, so angry that he wasn't able to finish his thought. Yumi backed down upon seeing the look on his face.

"We've got to warm her up," Yumi said in a small voice, looking from Anakin's flushed cheeks to your unconscious figure in his arms. "She's too cold." Anakin looked back to you, his focus coming back to him now.

"The tent," Anakin said, "in the pack."

***

The orange fabric of the tent was lined with a special technology that took in and amplified heat. So, the body heat that came from Anakin's own form, as well as Yumi's, should slowly begin to warm the tent from the inside, creating an artificial greenhouse effect. This was the theory, though the process was taking longer than Anakin would like. He sat, holding your unconscious figure in his lap. You were breathing steadily now, him feeling your cold hands, your cold cheeks, watching your movements. The wind outside whipped the tent fabric around them, the flapping noise difficult to ignore. They'd decided to leave the cave, lest there be any other creatures hiding in its depths. Anakin hadn't known what that beast was, and didn't want to guess as to whether or not it was a pack animal. Out here, in the storm, though, it was taking much longer to warm the inside of the tent. He looked around, watching the flapping fabric. They'd put all three coats over your body, so that every inch of you was covered except for your face, but still—

"She's going to be fine," Yumi said softly, breaking through Anakin's frantic thoughts as they zipped around his mind. Anakin looked up at her.

"We don't know that," Anakin said, desperately, feeling your cheek yet again, trying to discern if it was any warmer than it had been a moment ago. His other hand held yours in his, gripping it tightly.

"Her vitals are strong," Yumi said, holding up the vitals pack she'd attached to your ankle. "And her temperature is climbing, slowly but surely. She took a bad hit to the head, but she'll wake soon." Anakin could tell that Yumi was trying to make her voice sound reassuring. He could also tell that this tone was not one Yumi used often.

"You don't even like her," Anakin accused, quietly, looking at the walls of the tent as they blew around them. Yumi was quiet for a moment.

"It’s not so easy," Yumi said softly, "when the runt of the pack beats everyone all the time." Anakin looked up at her, seeing nothing but sincerity in her face. Yumi wasn't looking at him, but instead watching you, your bruised face in a soft pucker, your slow breaths moving your chest up and down. You'd have looked like you were sleeping peacefully, if it weren't for the bruises. Anakin gripped your hand. "It seems like she also gets the cute boys," Yumi continued, tilting her head, giving Anakin a pointed look.

"What do you mean by that?" Anakin asked, feeling himself breaking into a sweat, despite the still-too-cold temperature of the tent. Yumi rolled her eyes.

"Your secret is safe with me, lover boy," she responded, giving Anakin a rye smile. "And I won't try to kiss you again, or anything. I just thought you were cute." Yumi raised her hands in a shrug, her long, thin arms angled comically, outlined on the tent walls in shadow by the light cast from the lantern that sat between them.

"You think I'm cute?" Anakin asked nervously.

"Well, yeah," Yumi said, casually flipping her hair. "Have you seen you?" Anakin blushed, feeling very uncomfortable indeed, inadvertently glancing down at you.

"What, she doesn't think so?" Yumi asked, raising her eyebrows. "Intrigue!" she exclaimed softly, causing Anakin to jump. His eyes burned with embarrassment as he watched Yumi look back and forth between his face and your collapsed figure in his arms. She looked like she'd just stumbled on 500 credits lying in the street. Anakin didn't know what to say to this.

"The drama of it all," Yumi said sarcastically, smiling at Anakin with a sardonic look in her eyes. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, Anakin."

"Why do you say that?" Anakin asked, his heart thumping, holding his breath.

"Because I know this small fry," Yumi said, looking you over with feigned distaste. "She might have a tough shell on the outside, but..." Yumi paused thoughtfully. "You know, she reads everyone else's emotions, but she hides her own." Yumi shrugged again. "And, you know, she kind of learned to, I guess. She didn't have the easiest time of it...when we were younger, I mean."

Anakin looked at your face, still unresponsive in his arms. You were breathing solidly, and Anakin thought he could see a bit of pink returning to your cheeks and lips. You hadn't ever admitted anything to him about being bullied as a youngling. Still, he'd seen it happen, back when you were young, with Dallum...Anakin wished you would tell him about these things, wished you would let down your guard just a little.

"I wouldn't count yourself out, is all I'm saying," Yumi finished, and as Anakin looked back up at her, she gave him a haughty grin.

***

You felt yourself waking up on a hard surface. It seemed like there were vines beneath you. You crinkled your face. Vines? The last thing you remembered, you'd been on a snowy planet...and you'd been...

The memory came back to you with a gasp, and your eyes fluttered open. You looked up, squinting, and though there wasn't much light, you could see his face clearly. It wasn't vines beneath your body—it was limbs.

You looked up and breathed deeply, taking in Anakin's face looking down at you. He was smiling serenely, his lips slightly parted, his delicate eyelashes framing the blue of his irises. You couldn't think, for a moment. You felt your face go passive as you looked at Ani, felt his arms still wrapped around you. You felt his familiar Force presence reaching out to you, full of contentedness, of wonderful, warm, colorful feelings you felt surrounding you in an embrace that felt as real as his arms holding you.

"How are you feeling, little flea?" Anakin asked, his eyebrows raising, still looking you in the eye. You took a deep, slow breath. Why was it so hard to think? The intensity of his stare felt like it was growing closer to you, and worse—you felt like you wanted it to.

You shook your head to try to clear it, but this was a mistake. You shut your eyes forcefully.

"Ow," you whined, trying to reach up your hand to feel where the pain was originating on your head, but it was trapped under what felt like five layers of heavy fabric. It was only then that you realized your other hand was clasped tightly in Anakin's, gripping him like your life depended on it. Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt yourself go still, freezing in embarrassment.

"Don't move like that, flea," Anakin said cautiously, "you took quite a hit to the head." You slowly tried to move your hand away from Anakin's, but he clasped onto yours even tighter. Normally, you would have protested, but a part of you wanted very much to keep holding his hand. Your face burned. It was hot in here.

"Am I...covered in coats?" you asked, trying and struggling to sit up.

"Well, we had to warm your frozen popsicle of a body back to life," you heard someone say from behind you, and you jumped, yanking your hand away from Anakin's. Yumi sat in the other corner of what looked like the emergency snow tent, smiling at you with a horribly superior look on her face.

"That—that thing..." you said, trying to do anything to divert Yumi's attention away from the fact that you and Anakin had clearly just been holding hands.

"We killed it," Yumi said arrogantly.

"I killed it," Anakin said, rolling his eyes. "Yumi screamed at it, and nearly got eaten." You stifled a giggle.

"You played a very convincing damsel in distress," Yumi continued, looking you in the eye. You felt your face fall into an angry pout.

"We need to signal Master Yuma," Anakin told you, trying to get your attention away from Yumi. "We need to get you stitches."

"Stiches?" you asked, surprised, but as you moved your face muscles, you again felt the pain at the back of your head. "Oh," you said, grimacing.

"You know, until we can get you back to a medic," Yumi said nonchalantly, "some more cuddling might help." At these words, both you and Anakin froze, your eyes wide, fear filling your insides with ice.

"Oh," Yumi laughed, "this will be fun."

************************

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Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Warnings: wound/descriptions of pain and needles (stitches lol), teeny bit o Ani fluff and a cool disembodied voice

Word Count: 4.3k

The blinding white of the snow seemed to make your limbs feel numb—like you were slowly fading into the colorless environment around you, becoming one with the bright. Or maybe it was the pain you felt in the back of your head that was making it difficult to walk through the tundra, your limbs moving slowly, like they were made of lead. Or, you thought, maybe it was the weight of the awkward silence that passed between you, Anakin, and Yumi as you walked.

"Are you sure you're okay to walk?" Anakin asked you from behind, reaching out his hand as if he were going to touch your back. He held his hand in the air for a moment, uncertain, before lowering it. "We can go slower."

"I'm fine," you told Anakin as you pushed through the deep snow. The truth was, the pain in your head was killing, and you felt like doubling over. The wind and snow had all but stopped, leaving a blue sky and a clear view of the Speedster, many paces in front of you. If the conditions had been like this when you'd arrived, the beast that had taken you would never have been able to sneak up on you. You screwed up your face in concentration as you continued to walk, the pain a tight feeling that started at your head, but spread out through your arms and legs.

"But—" Anakin started to protest, seeing your face.

"The quicker we get to the ship, the quicker we get to the medical supplies," Yumi said, trudging ahead of you, sounding annoyed.

Anakin was watching you as if he considered you unsteady—his hands were not quite at his sides, as if he felt he would need to reach out and catch you at any second.

"Ani, I'm FINE," you emphasized. The pain was growing more intense with each step, but it was annoying you to have Anakin treating you like you were about to collapse. Anakin seemed to intuit your frustration in your voice, and he dropped his hands, looking ahead as he walked beside you, glancing back to you covertly. You breathed in and out through your teeth, trying to expel the pain.

It was embarrassing enough that you had been bested by a beast Anakin seemed to have had no trouble with. To be found unconscious? Your cheeks burned with shame and embarrassment. And in front of Yumi? You were mortified. Your mind slowly turned what Yumi had seen in the tent into something prickly, sharp inside of you, something that you felt the need to move around, something you didn't dare touch. You could rationalize away the whole scene, but the fact that Yumi, someone who was certainly not to be trusted to keep a secret, had seen you and Anakin...

"Y/N!" you heard a desperate voice shout, and you felt a dip in the Force, a dip that felt like an intense wave of relief passing over you. You looked up and saw your Master running out of the Speedster 2. The sight of someone who was usually so graceful running frantically through the deep snow cast your worries and frustrations from your mind, and you couldn't help but laugh. Perhaps it was Master Yuma's giddy relief at seeing you were okay, but you felt contended, as if your Master's presence could solve any problem, even ones related to Anakin.

When Master Yuma reached you, she took your arms in her hands, looking you over, assessing the damage with concern. You ignored her examination, throwing yourself into her arms in a hug. Master Yuma's breath left her, the subtlest of sounds that you knew meant she was intuiting your mood, was feeling all of the shame and frustration and embarrassment you were feeling. You felt her confusion.

"She needs stitches," Anakin told Master Yuma, looking quite relieved himself. "There's a large cut on the back of her head, where that thing hit her."

"What was it?" you asked Master Yuma, walking back toward the ship.

"Probably a wampa," Master Obi-Wan told you, stepping out onto the ramp of the Speedster. You felt Anakin's Force presence relax.

"Good to see you on your feet, Y/N." Obi-Wan clasped your arm as Master Yuma led you onto the ship, Anakin and Yumi trailing in behind you.

"Why weren't we told there were predators here?" Anakin asked his Master, looking to him with pleading eyes.

"There are so few wampas left on Hoth, you were statistically more likely to injure yourself tripping," Obi-Wan said, slight sarcasm entering his voice. "Your Padawan was quite unlucky, today," he told Master Yuma as she helped you onto the flight bench.

"Nothing your Padawan couldn't handle, it seems," Master Yuma responded, and you felt your face burn. You could have handled the wampa just fine, you thought, had you only been able to see through that storm.

"Here," Yumi said to Master Obi-Wan, handing him the large pack of medical supplies she'd just retrieved from the compartment beneath the ship. Obi-Wan took the pack and began sorting through it, sourcing, you saw with a gulp, a needle and medi-thread. "Are you going to tell us what you found?" Yumi asked, sounding a bit impatient, as if she too were anxious to get off this planet. You felt a sense of embarrassment coming from her Force presence, which didn't make sense to you. What did she have to be embarrassed about?

"We can do better," Master Yuma said, reaching into the medical pack and searching through it. "We can show you. But first," she turned back to you, "we need to close that wound." You heaved a deep breath. Needles were not your favorite. "I'm sorry, Y/N," Master Yuma told you, looking to you with trepidation. "It seems there isn't any numbing jelly in here." She gestured to the medical pack she'd just searched.

"Of course there isn't," you said dryly. Master Obi-Wan approached you, looking at you with pitying eyes. "May I?" he asked kindly. You nodded. He sat down next to you, and you felt the wound on the back of your head throbbing with pain, as if in anticipation.

"Anakin, distract her, please," Obi-Wan said through gritted teeth, holding the edge of the thread in his mouth as he used both hands to prepare the needle. You looked away from what he was doing, averting your eyes quickly.

Anakin strolled over to you without delay, sitting on your other side. It was quite cramped in this small ship, with Master Yuma sitting across from you, and Yumi standing by the ramp. Anakin took your hand firmly, enclosing it in both of his, and you felt yourself blush. This was just something he did, now? All eyes were on you.

"Did you know the wampa had you hanging upside down?" Anakin asked, his eyes wide, watching your face. You were looking down, feeling his hand in yours, feeling Master Yuma's eyes on you. You felt a sense of understanding in her Force presence—she sensed something, something that was cluing her in to the reasons behind your feelings of shame and embarrassment.

"Agh," you let out involuntarily, feeling the needle poke at the wound on the back of your head, screwing up your eyes in pain. You felt Obi-Wan's Force presence pushing out toward you, felt him trying to reassure you. Anakin squeezed your hand. "Um," you said, swallowing the pain, allowing Anakin to keep his firm grip on your hand. "Upside down?" you looked up at him, your face in a grimace.

Anakin nodded quickly. "Yeah, your feet were frozen to the ceiling of the cave."

"Cave?" you asked, feeling your voice go uneven. You tried to ignore the tugging feeling you felt at your wound, pain pushing through your body.

"Yeah. Did I not mention that?" Anakin forced a laugh, trying to keep your eyes on him. "The thing had taken you back into its den, in the icy rock." You felt a shakiness in Anakin's Force presence as he watched you. "And after I cut off the wampa's head, I—"

"You beheaded it?" you asked, forcing the breath in and out. Anakin's face swam in front of your vision, the pain pushing deep into your head.

"—I had to jump up to free you from the ice," Anakin continued, acting as if you hadn't interrupted. "And then—" Anakin paused.

"What happened next, Ani?" Yumi said, a hint of derision in her tone. Anakin flushed, and you felt both anger and something else in his presence. You knew no one called him Ani except for you, but there was something else unsettling him. What had happened next?

"Finished," Obi-Wan said breezily, making a clipping noise with the medical scissors and lowering his hands from the back of your head. "I hope that wasn't too horrible." Obi-Wan patted your arm in a comforting way. Your head throbbed.

"I'm afraid getting you pain relief will have to wait," Master Yuma said, watching you with sympathetic eyes.

"Why?" Anakin asked, looking from you to Master Yuma.

"There are a few things we need to fill you in on," Obi-Wan said, his tone ominous.

***

"Maybe you should have stayed with the ship," Yumi whispered from below, her voice full of insincerity. You, Yumi, and Anakin were following Master Yuma and Master Obi-Wan up a large rock face. You were breathing hard, feeling your blood pumping, trying to keep up with Master Obi-Wan's pace. Maybe you should have stayed at the Temple, you thought, feeling your hands grow tingly with frustration. You kept these thoughts in, swallowing your anger, pulling yourself up the rock.

"We'll have to keep quiet," Master Yuma said, reaching down a hand to help pull you up onto a rocky landing. "It's just over this ridge."

"We can keep our distance," Master Obi-Wan whispered, taking a small probe out of his robes. "This will collect the data we need to send back to the council." He pressed a button on the probe's surface, and the tiny droid came to life, floating up into the air above Obi-Wan's open palm.

"What is it we're keeping our distance from?" Anakin asked quietly, as he and Yumi made it onto the landing.

"Over here," Master Yuma whispered, leading you all to peer over a gap in the rocks. You followed her, needing to boost yourself up on a part of the rock in order to see. You gasped.

There was a crime syndicate presence here, all right. The encampment took up much of the snowy valley below, made up of tents and supplies, not to mention a number of men and aliens of other species walking around with very large blasters. But this sight wasn't what made you gasp.

In the middle of the valley was a large boulder—but it couldn't be a boulder, not with that iridescent shine, the glow of light, the heat you felt in the Force, even from this distance.

"Is that—?" you started to ask.

"Yes," Master Yuma answered, taking out bino-specs and looking down at the scene.

"But it's so—"

"Big?" Master Obi-Wan finished for you, letting the probe go, off into the snowy air. It disappeared almost immediately, and you knew none of the enemies below would be able to detect a droid that small from this height.

"I didn't know there were kyber crystals that big," Yumi whispered, looking awed. Obi-Wan and Anakin gave each other a significant look.

"They're very rare," Obi-Wan whispered. "Thought to only exist in legend, by some."

"What do the crime syndicates want with it?" you asked, tearing your eyes away from the giant crystal to look back to your Master. She shrugged.

"Who knows?" Master Yuma entuned softly. "Maybe they stumbled upon it. Maybe they've been fighting over it."

"It's got to be worth a lot, to the right people," Yumi reasoned, her eyes narrowing, thinking hard.

"But what people?" you questioned, your eyes wide. "And what would they want to use it for?"

"Our thoughts exactly," Master Obi-Wan whispered darkly. A rustling noise made all of you look to the west, where the sun was moving through the clouds. A luxurious-looking ship was landing near the edge of the encampment, and as you watched it lower its landing gears, you felt a quiet surround you, hearing only your own breath. You watched the ship land and felt your vision blur.

"Y/N?" Anakin whispered, seeming to sense that something was wrong.

"It's so...cold," you said. The cold was surrounding you. You felt it in your skin, in your chest, in your eyes. You couldn't see. Everything was dark. You were paralyzed with a horrible feeling—a terrifying despair was filling you, as if you'd just been thrown into a large body of frozen water, of which there was no surface. You tried to scream for your Master, for Anakin, but nothing came out of you.

It was then that you felt it—the specific tenor, the horrible, awful, overwhelming presence. It was taking over everything, this presence. It was consuming all breath from your lungs, all happiness from your body. You couldn't think. You felt as if you were drowning inside this presence.

Just when you thought that this feeling was unending, that it could not get any worse, you felt the presence shift its attention. Panic gripped your heart, a terrible fear taking hold deep inside you. The presence knew. The presence knew you were there. It could sense you.

You wanted to run, but you couldn't feel your legs. You had no idea where you were, or if you were. You felt the presence moving its attention to you, felt it seeing you fully, though you didn't know if you still had eyes.

Your Masters are unable to sense me, a voice said, its horrible echo swirling around your consciousness, like wind. You tried to put up your hands, as if to block the wind from your face. Even your powerful friend cannot sense my presence, the voice continued. Your thoughts turned to Anakin involuntarily. Oh, yes, the voice droned, its sound going through you like poison, making your mind hurt, he is more powerful even than I. But why is it that you, the voice asked dangerously, a child, an unknown, can feel my existence? You wanted to cry out for Anakin, to tell him to run, to tell all of them to leave here, now, to leave you behind, so that they might at least escape this horrific being.

What is this I sense in you, child? You felt your whole self aching, as if this presence were clutching onto your very soul, holding you in a bind. Interesting, the voice uttered, that you alone have somehow made your way through my defenses in the Force. The black was surrounding your eyes, and you felt yourself gasping, as if the presence were clutching you around the throat, around the wrists, pinning you down into the darkest parts of yourself. You will not do so again, the voice whispered, but I will remember your presence.

You tried to scream, but you felt as if you didn't have a voice. All you could feel was blackness, darkness, cold. You couldn't tell if your eyes were open or closed, couldn't sense whether you still even had a body. Whether you might be of use? The voice said, as if it were merely thinking aloud, its sound like nails scratching your skin. Uncertain, the voice continued, but of interest to me. You had never in your life felt this cold, never before felt such a dark feeling as this. You wished, for a moment, that the voice would simply kill you, so that you would not have to feel this any longer.

There is fear in you, the voice said, and you felt as if you were falling in a downward spiral. You felt as if you might fall forever.

I will remember, you heard the voice say, and then you hit the ground.

***

"No, please, no—"

"Master Yuma, we have to do something. What's happening? What—"

"No, please, please—"

"I'm trying, Anakin, I don't know—"

"NO!!" you screamed, your eyes opening, your body convulsing wildly. You felt Master Yuma's arms around you, felt her embrace move through yours in the Force. You breathed deeply, in and out, as if you had just brought your head above water, as if you were breathing for the first time. But you needed to warn them—

"Master," you said breathlessly, "Master, it's—the—the presence, it's—"

"What?" Master Yuma asked, pulling back from you, taking in your panicked figure.

"That presence—that dreadful being—"

"What are you talking about?" Master Yuma put her hands on your shoulders. "Please, Y/N, you need to calm down—"

"Master, listen to me!" You shrieked, looking wildly around you. You saw that you were back on the larger ship, in what looked like the medical bay, propped up on a bed with a tube in your arm.

"Y/N, it's okay, you're safe, now," a familiar voice said from behind Master Yuma, but you shook your head back and forth, trying to make sense of where you were, of what you'd felt.

"You didn’t—you didn't feel it?" you asked, taking in Master Yuma's surprised face, and behind it, Anakin's worried expression.

"Feel what, Y/N?" Master Yuma asked, her eyes wide.

"The presence—that awful being, whatever it was..." you trailed off, seeing in both your Master's and Anakin's faces that they had no idea what you were talking about.

"You're just injured, Y/N. You need rest," Master Yuma told you, trying to gently push on your shoulders to get you to lay back down.

"No," you told her, your eyes wide in terror. "That's not what happened, Master. I'm telling you—the presence I felt—what I felt—"

"I believe you, Y/N, it's okay." Master Yuma gently pressed a cold cloth to your forehead. You realized you were sweating, feverish, your hair plastered to your face. "We will talk about it with the council when we land back on Coruscant. Right now, I need you to rest." You nodded, slowly, trying to calm your heart rate.

"What—what happened? How did we—"

"You collapsed," Anakin said quietly, looking at you anxiously. "One moment, we were looking at the Kyber crystal, and the next, you were on the ground. And you were...shaking..." You felt Anakin's fear through the Force.

"Your wound," Master Yuma said, indicating the bandage you felt on the back of your head. "You just need to recover." She seemed to be trying to convince herself with her words, in addition to you. You looked from Anakin to Master Yuma. Had they really not felt anything? Were you going insane?

"I'm going to check our progress," Master Yuma said, keeping her voice calm and steady. "We should be arriving soon. You can take over for me, here?" You saw Anakin nod. Master Yuma held the cold cloth out for him to take it.

You inhaled and kept your breath in as Master Yuma left the room. Anakin moved a little closer to you, his eyes wide.

"What do you think it was?" Anakin asked, sitting down in front of you, taking your hand in his. The feel of his fingers sliding into yours was already familiar to you, and though a part of your brain resisted, a different part of your brain wanted to have your hand in his, always. "The presence?"

You slowly shook your head back and forth, your mouth open, thankful for once for Anakin's sincerity. Looking Anakin in the eye, you knew that he believed you, that he knew your fear was real, that you weren't imagining things. "I don't know, Ani, but—whatever it was, I—" You could barely breathe. You'd never felt a presence like that in all your years as a Jedi. You'd never felt so cold, so afraid, so—hopeless, as if every good thing had been cast out of the universe. Anakin gripped your hand, putting the cool cloth to your forehead gently.

"It's okay, flea, it will be okay," Anakin said, starting to stroke your hand with his thumb. You felt his thoughts turn to the gardens at the Jedi temple, felt him dwelling on the color of the flowers that grew there. His feelings shifted, thinking of the skyline of Coruscant as the sun set, viewing the fading light from one of the balconies of the Temple. You felt in his presence a forced feeling of calm, and intentional peace, as his feelings shifted again to dwell on the quiet of the Temple's meditation rooms. Was he trying to calm you, through his own thoughts?

You looked at Anakin, watched his face as it squinted in concentration as he thought over all of the places he deemed safe and calming. You couldn't understand, now, the feelings that began to enter your presence. They were so overwhelming.

"Thank you," you said softly, and Anakin looked up, a slight smile gracing his features in knowing that his tactic had worked. You didn't look away from him, didn't pull your hand away from his, didn't do anything to deflect the vulnerability you now felt emanating between your presences in the Force. He kept your gaze, still stroking your hand. You looked at each other, the moment quiet and endless. You remembered the feeling of Anakin's arms around you, in that tent, remembered laying on his lap, looking up into his eyes.

You felt Anakin's Force presence shift as his thoughts solidified. You were already shaking your head.

"Y/N, listen—"

"No, Ani, no, wait..." you said, pulling away your hand. You felt Anakin's feelings through the Force as your hand left his, a stinging feeling combining with his urgency. The door to the medical bay opened.

"Anakin, we're arriving on Coruscant," Master Obi-Wan said, striding in and giving you a small smile. "I'm glad to see you're awake, Y/N." You nodded to him, feeling his presence graze over his thoughts of you and Anakin, moving quickly back to what he'd come in here to say. "You and I have a new assignment," Obi-Wan told Anakin. "We're leaving immediately."

"What?" Anakin asked, looking back at you, his eyes wide.

"The news of this Kyber crystal has set some things in motion," Master Obi-Wan explained. "The council feels we're needed in the Outer Rim." Anakin turned back to face you, looking as if he were speechless. All three of you felt the ship touch down beneath you. There were no viewports in the medical bay, but you knew Coruscant from the humming you felt through the Force—the specific vibration of your second home.

"Y/N, I—" Anakin tried again, his face blushing furiously as he looked at you, then away. You held your breath.

"I'm sure we'll be back soon," Anakin finished, changing directions in his mind, standing up and putting the cold cloth onto the table next to your bed. "I'll—"

You looked up at Anakin wordlessly, feeling all that had gone unspoken in the air. A part of you wanted to bury your face under your blankets and forget any of this had ever happened. A different part of you wanted to take everything hanging in the air and make it real.

"I'll be seeing you," Anakin said, looking back as Obi-Wan gestured for him to follow. You didn't know what to say. You sat there, quietly, as Anakin turned and followed his Master out the door.

***

You walked across the hangar, watching the ship that you knew carried both Anakin and Obi-Wan taking off into the Coruscanti sky. You felt conflicted. The mission to Hoth had given you a lot to think about. Your head was spinning.

"Feeling sentimental?" Yumi asked you, her tone mocking, her lips close to your ear in a derisive pout. Anger flared inside you.

"You know what, Yumi?" you said, your voice rising, grateful that Master Yuma was already so far ahead of you, out of earshot. "Enough, okay? I'm not seven years old anymore. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise," you turned, facing her head on, "get away from me."

Yumi looked stunned for a moment, before her pretty features broke out into a confident smile.

"Assertive looks good on you," she commented, her eyes twinkling. "Keep it up, little flea." You reached for your lightsaber.

"Call me that again," you threatened, "and I'll—"

"Relax, Y/N," Yumi said, rolling her eyes. Somehow, despite spending multiple days in a snowstorm, her hair and face looked just as perfect as they had when you'd left Coruscant. You didn't even want to think about what you probably looked like: face bruised, head bandaged, sweat and ice and dirt caked in every orifice. "You're both so easy to rile up," Yumi continued, smiling her perfect smile.

"Both?" you asked, confused. Yumi rolled her eyes again, an exaggerated move.

"That boy is in love with you," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders, still grinning at you like she was enjoying herself.

"WHAT?!" you half-shrieked. Master Yuma turned around, from ahead of you, where she had been greeting multiple other members of the Order. You felt your face going hot. For Yumi to say those words—aloud—you had half a mind to attack her, your hand hovering over your lightsaber.

"Whenever you decide how you feel," Yumi continued, as if you hadn't made a very loud and indecorous screech, "you might want to let him know." You felt the slightest dip Yumi's usually very confident presence, just a glimpse, but enough for you to notice that she was not quite as untouchable as she seemed. You felt her forcibly casting you out, exuding confidence again, laughing. "And let me know," she continued, her eyes sparkling. "Cause, you know, his lips look very soft...and I'd like to find out if they feel as soft as they look." Yumi danced ahead of you, turning around to give you an air kiss before laughing and running into the Temple without looking back.

******************

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Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

Anakin paced the ship's hull, back and forth, feeling the need to get this energy out of him, unable to sit still. The ship whined beneath his feet, and he mentally urged it to go faster, to move through hyperspace more quickly. He didn't care that he was eager. He didn't care about anything, other than getting back to Coruscant.

It had been a brutal eight months in the Outer Rim territories, a period in which he and Obi-Wan had gotten themselves into and out of many scrapes. They were keeping the peace, he thought dryly, and collecting intel for the Republic—worthy causes, of course, but he had been away from Coruscant for his longest period yet, and he was anxious to get back to the Temple.

"Anakin, you're giving me a migraine," Obi-Wan said casually, sitting in the main hull and reading his holopad. Anakin continued his pacing.

"Are we close?" Anakin asked, looking out the viewport at the blue of hyperspace, as if he would be able to tell by some landmark where they were in the universe.

"Patience, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, not looking up from his reading. Anakin ignored him, continuing to walk back and forth. He didn't try to hide his anxiety from Obi-Wan. The last time Anakin had seen you, you'd been half-beaten, with dark circles under your eyes and stitches in the back of your head. Still, you'd looked perfect, sitting there in that medical bay, on a ship very similar to this one, looking at him through those very perfect eyes, lidded by perfect lashes, your perfect Force presence emanating around you. Anakin swallowed. Why hadn't he just come out and said it, then? He had been so close to telling you, so close to revealing his heart. Why had he stopped himself?

Anakin could never have known that he would be gone this long, of course, but there had not been one evening in the last eight months where he hadn't thought of you. Every time he thought he would get to return, to see you again, he and Obi-Wan were sent to a different star system. Anakin saw your face every time he closed his eyes, remembered the feeling of your hand in his, the feeling of you watching him, your eyes glazing over, as if his presence calmed you. He thought of you every morning when he ate. Every type of cloud on every new planet seemed to remind him of you. He yearned to be back in your presence, just for a moment, just to get to see your face. Anakin had been so used to being assigned to missions with you and Master Yuma, he thought it might always be the four of you, working together. Why had he and Obi-Wan been away for so long? It didn't seem fair.

They had had no news of you or Master Yuma from the council, no news of anyone, really, just updates that pertained to the general status of Republic affairs. And this was protocol, of course—Jedi were not meant to form attachments, and so asking the council for news of you, a Padawan who held very little importance to them, would have been completely inappropriate. Still, Anakin had asked Obi-Wan, again and again, after every transmission, after every briefing, if there had been any word, any news, any mention of where you might be, of what you might be doing. Obi-Wan was tiring of Anakin's persistence, but he had reminded his Padawan that no news was likely good news. If a Jedi had been killed, they certainly would have heard of it. Anakin knew this was true, and he was certain that you were absolutely fine—more than fine. You were flawless. You were likely healed of all of your wounds, of course, likely growing stronger in the Force, practicing your sparring, working toward your Knighthood. This knowledge did nothing to assuage Anakin's anxiety now, as his ship zoomed closer to you.

What had you thought about everything that had happened on Hoth? Anakin had never gotten to ask you, had never even gotten to watch you heal from your injuries. What had it meant to you, that Anakin had held your hand the way he did? Had it meant anything at all?

"Anakin, you're sweating. Relax," Obi-Wan said, finally putting his holopad down and looking at his Padawan with concern.

"What am I going to say to her?" Anakin asked, his hands shaking, his eyes wide with longing.

"I'd start with hello," Obi-Wan said, an amused expression crossing his face. Anakin felt his features fall into a pout. He resumed his pacing. They were almost there.

***

You breathed in, trying to expel any thought from your body, working to let the Force move through you.

The meditation room was quiet; your limbs were folded perfectly, your back straight; the meditation ottoman was soft and comfortable; the blinds were drawn. The conditions were perfect. There was no reason for you to be distracted. Still, you somehow felt restless. Your body seemed to have a twitch, today, seemed to feel the need to move, to shake out these nervous feelings. You couldn't trace their origin, but for whatever reason, you could not get rid of your thoughts.

Your mind moved, as it often did, to Anakin, and you scrunched your face in concentration. When meditating, you were taught to let thoughts come and go, as if a thought were a bird that flew through your mind, stopping in only for a moment before it again took flight. The Anakin bird, however, seemed to have made its home in your mind. Every time this particular thought returned, it brought more supplies, making its nest larger and larger, and now it seemed to own the place. You sighed.

If you could not expel the thought, you had decided, and if it would not simply pass out of your brain, you could redirect it. You missed Anakin—that much was clear. He popped into your head so often, now, that you had worked hard to change this particular thought, to use it to your advantage, to make sure that it was aligned with your true and higher purpose.

You wanted, more than anything, to become a Jedi. And not just any Jedi—you wanted to hone your talents. You wanted to be the best warrior, the most skilled swordswoman, completely one with the Force, like Master Yoda, like your own Master. Good Jedi did not form attachments, you reminded yourself, and so any thoughts that might lead you down a road you did not want to follow must be banished from your mind. You steeled yourself, keeping still in your meditation posture. You would not allow yourself to be taken off the path that was meant for you. You would not allow Anakin to distract you from your goal.

You felt her presence before she entered, as you so often did. It was difficult to surprise you, especially now that you had grown in your power, motivated, as you were, by the dark forces you had encountered on Hoth. You kept your eyes closed, but acknowledged this presence, greeting your Master through the Force.

"You seem troubled," Master Yuma said, coming to sit on the meditation ottoman next to the one on which you perched.

"No, not troubled, exactly," you told her honestly, breathing deeply.

"Conflicted, then," she corrected, her gaze searching you, looking you over, feeling your presence intimately in the way that only she could.

"No," you answered, opening your eyes. You looked at Master Yuma, watching each other. Communicating with your Master was very different from communicating with other people, especially now that your power had grown to such a degree. When you communicated with others, you had more of an advantage—you could read more in them than they could in you. With your Master, though, you both read through each other's thoughts, your Master's emotional impressions coloring your mind, and your own emotions likely coloring hers. Oftentimes, the two of you didn't need words to converse.

"I don't think it's that simple," Master Yuma said thoughtfully, responding to something she had felt in your presence. You frowned.

"It has to be. Attachment is against the rules, and at some point, a choice has to be made," you said calmly, looking your Master in the eye. "I've made mine."

"A good Jedi must keep her mind open," Master Yuma told you, meeting the intensity of your gaze with just as much strength, "to possibilities. Other options, paths that exist but are not visible in the current moment." Master Yuma sighed, looking at your set jaw, your lowered eyebrows, feeling how much effort you were making to hold to this conviction, through the Force. "It is impossible, now, to see what the future may bring. I ask you only to let your mind open, to let the thoughts, feelings, and other temporary matter flow through it. Remember, my child," Master Yuma said affectionately, "that you are but the river bank. Let the water roll over you. Don't try to change its direction, or fight its current. Let it flow."

Your eyes filled with tears. Master Yuma had not called you my child in quite some time. This affection disarmed you, melted your resolve, got in the way of your desire to hold certain feelings of yours at bay. You broke your pose, climbed off of the meditation ottoman, and sank yourself down next to your Master, laying your head on her shoulder.

"We have another assignment," Master Yuma said, using her fingers to run through your hair, pulling it away from your face gently. "I came in here to retrieve you. We're leaving." Master Yuma brushed the tears from your cheeks.

"Yes, Master," you said, letting yourself melt into her, letting your pretense, your ego fall away.

"All will reveal itself in time," Master Yuma told you, kissing your head. "Don't fret."

***

You sat the co*ckpit of the ship, next to your Master, ready to assume the position of co-pilot. You watched Coruscant beneath you as you adjusted the necessary controls, causing the ship to take off into the sky. You felt the ship moving through the air, and you sighed, letting go of a part of yourself, leaving it behind on Coruscant. To do your duty, you must let go of your own desire, learn to be selfless, one with the light side of the Force. You felt a current in the air, and looked over to Master Yuma, confused. She looked back at you, assuming an innocent expression. Could she not feel it? The current grew stronger as the ship took off. You looked out the viewport, out at the city planet, and you saw nothing but ships passing by, headed back toward the city you were leaving. You felt the current grow stronger. You looked out, breathing deeply. The current in the Force grew in its intensity, and as you watched another large ship pass you by, you felt the current snap, like a rubber band when pulled back. The feeling you felt as this current moved out of you was both good and bad, both pleasant and painful. It was a full feeling, a glass overflowing. It felt like longing. It felt familiar.

***

Anakin stood in his room, looking the place over, his emotions in turmoil. Though he had not been back to this place in eight months, he felt no joy in being here now, looking at the sparse Padawan bed, the small room in the large dormitory that did not, for the time being, contain the one reason he'd wanted to return to Coruscant in the first place.

It had become clear immediately upon their arrival that you and Master Yuma had been sent off on a mission earlier the very same day. If only the ship had arrived just a moment sooner, Anakin thought, torturing himself. If only time had passed a little slower this morning, Anakin could have accompanied you on your assignment.

It would be fine, he reasoned with himself, standing at his desk, looking out his very small window. You and Master Yuma would surely be back very soon, maybe even tomorrow. Most assignments did not last months at a time. He could wait just a bit longer.

The pain of it was tearing at his insides, his frustration threatening to pull apart his seams, but he held himself together. It was only an extra few days. It was fine. When you returned, he would be here, waiting to hear how your mission had gone, waiting to see what you might have to say to him, after all these months.

His frustration with the Jedi Order was growing—the council's demands, the way they held such little regard for everything he had done for them, the way he and his Master were never granted a choice over where and how they spent their time, who they spent time with—the weight of his anger over the injustice of it all hovered over his head, and he worked to hold back his feelings. He wanted to be a Jedi more than he wanted anything, but he wanted to do it on his terms, in his own way. If he were on the council, if he were a Master, he would choose to do things differently. And they'd have to be okay with it—they needed him.

Anakin heard a knock coming from the other side of the door to his room, and his heart sank in fear. The only time anyone ever came to his own personal quarters, it was—

"May I come in?" Obi-Wan asked from the other side of the door. The fear that had entered Anakin's heart was turning quickly to fury. Anakin barely felt able to open his mouth, to form the words.

"Yes," he sputtered, watching as his Master entered his room, facing him. Anakin was already shaking his head. "No," he whined to Obi-Wan, looking at his Master's sympathetic face, and hating every part of it, the pitying eyes, the mouth downturned in a compassionate frown, the peaceful presence emanating from his Master's being. "No, we can't go now, we can't leave again—"

"I'm sorry, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, striding into the room and placing a gentle hand on his Padawan's shoulder. "The council has another assignment for us. The Chancellor himself requested that we go immediately. We leave in the morning."

"No," Anakin repeated, his anger moving through him like a storm, his voice coming out as a pathetic pleading sound. He shoved Obi-Wan's hand off his shoulder. "Not now, there must be someone else they can send."

"Jedi do not choose where they are needed most," Obi-Wan said kindly, tilting his head downward and looking up at Anakin's face, taking a submissive stance. "We must let go of our pride, and do what is requested of us."

"No—I won't...I won't go," Anakin said, raising his voice, beginning to shake his hands, as if he were looking for something to throw, something to hit.

"It is high time you attend to these feelings of yours, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, still keeping his eyes on his Padawan, his tone cautious. "You won't always be as young as you are now. Attachment of this kind is what prevents a Jedi from seeing clearly. You must put aside your own feelings, Anakin, in order to do your duty."

"And for what?" Anakin scoffed, throwing his hands in the air, giving Obi-Wan a menacing smile. "So that the Senate can continue sitting around, squabbling over minor issues, doing nothing of substance? For the sake of a Republic, of a Jedi Order that no longer serves the needs of its constituents?"

"You are speaking from the place where your anger is in control," Obi-Wan said quietly, looking Anakin over.

"I can't help but be angry!" Anakin yelled, letting down his guard, feeling tears come into his eyes. "It's been eight months, Obi-Wan! Eight months, and she's not even here. And now we're leaving again, and we have no idea when we will return—" Anakin's voice broke, and his tears spilled, falling hot over his cheeks, his face screwed up in his resentment.

"I sense that this show of anger is an attempt to hide what truly plagues you," Obi-Wan responded, his voice low, his tone peaceful, compassionate. Anakin wiped his tears with his sleeve, his brow furrowed, his mouth clenched in a grimace.

"I can't...I can't live on, this way, without her presence...without her near me..." Anakin said, his voice lowering, his anger still palpable in his speech.

"You must not ever let your love turn into possession, Anakin," Obi-Wan said forcefully. "You must learn to place your ideals above your feelings." Anakin's face crumpled.

"What would you know of love?" Anakin asked, his bitterness ringing throughout the room.

"I know enough," Obi-Wan responded softly. Anakin shook his head again. It was impossible for Obi-Wan to understand, he thought—no one had ever felt about anyone the way Anakin felt about you.

"It's like...like I can't breathe without her. Like there's this string, reaching out into the universe, tethered to her presence, and every day I spend without her, the string tugs on my heart, squeezing tighter, causing me more pain. It's like...like trying to exist without water, or food, but those don't even begin to explain it, because what is hunger, what is thirst, compared to this feeling?! The whole of the universe is screaming her name, and I can't...I can't hear anything else, not while she and I are apart." Anakin sniffed, feeling vulnerable, feeling his anger turn to a deep sadness inside of him, a sadness he associated with home, with his mother. Obi-Wan sighed, walking over to sit on the edge of Anakin's bed.

"This is dangerous speech, young one," Obi-Wan told him, looking at him with soft eyes. "The moment you let your love cloud over your selfhood, your life, your calling...is the moment you become vulnerable to the dark side of the Force."

"I don't want a life," Anakin said wretchedly, "if she's not in it." Anakin sat down next to his Master, and he felt his Master return a grip to his shoulder, a bracing and comforting gesture.

"You have much to learn, Anakin." Obi-Wan's tone was not critical, but Anakin heard in his words a sense of fear—fear of failure, or, perhaps, fear of Anakin's failure. "You've made a commitment to the Jedi Order, a commitment not easily broken. Eventually, you are going to have to make a choice."

Anakin turned to look his Master in the eye. He never wanted to fail Obi-Wan, or his teachings. The truth of the matter was that Anakin had made his choice, long ago. It was as if the choice had been made for him, as if he hadn't a hand in it at all. He wanted both: both you and the Jedi Order. He would have both. He couldn't let go of you—that much was certain. But he refused to let go of his ambitions. He knew his power far outstripped that of the other Jedi. He would become a Jedi Master. He could remake the Order, someday, make things how they should be, with you by his side.

"Yes Master," Anakin replied. The pain of leaving this place again paled in comparison to the feeling of knowing you were out there, somewhere, perhaps strategizing, perhaps fighting, perhaps sleeping—the pain of not knowing where you were, and what you were doing, was incapacitating. Anakin swallowed it, felt it drop into his body, lodge itself there. It would not free Anakin from its grasp, he knew, until he saw you again. And he would see you again, soon. He would make sure of it.

*********************

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Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

"Anakin. Come in, Anakin." Anakin inhaled quickly, looking around him, roused by these familiar words, words he usually heard when there was trouble near.

"Stars, Anakin, what in blazes is happening in your head," Obi-Wan asked. It was a rhetorical question, Anakin knew, and he remembered where he was, remembered that he was not in any danger, though he had lost himself in thought. Obi-Wan sat next to him in the back of the transport, a large open-air speeder that was zooming across Coruscant. The pilot had been sent to retrieve Anakin and his Master from the landing pad. They'd just returned, and already, they had been summoned to attend a meeting of the senate by the Chancellor himself.

"All Jedi," Anakin asked, trying to remember how to move his tongue, "have been summoned to this meeting?"

"All Jedi currently on world, yes," Obi-Wan said, watching his usually very confident apprentice stumbling over his words. "And their Padawans." Obi-Wan gave Anakin a knowing look.

"Why?" In truth, Anakin didn't much care why the Jedi had been summoned to the political arena on this particular day. Focusing on the practical, however, was helping him to get ahold of himself, and not lose control of his hands.

"I've told you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his tone half-exasperated, half-concerned. "I believe the Senate is about to propose an unprecedented solution to the rogue acts of violence being commitment by these so-called 'separatists'."

"An army," Anakin repeated his Master's words, from earlier, when they had been discussing their own most recent mission. Still, Anakin struggled to focus on such an important conversation. Anakin and Obi-Wan had been back to Coruscant only twice in the last two years. Both of their return trips had been brief, and both times, you had been off world with your Master, serving the Republic from afar. Anakin knew the growing separatist movement was to blame for keeping the Jedi so busy, knew that the political situation had gone from bad to worse within the last few years, the foundations of the Republic, and thus the Jedi Order, cracking under the weight of trying to serve so many star systems. Still, Anakin couldn't think about the Republic, or the senate, or even the Chancellor. He could only think of you. The thought of seeing you again, today, after so much time had passed, was causing Anakin's limbs to go numb, his lips to struggle over words, his mind turning in circles.

"This will be an important meeting, my young Padawan," Obi-Wan said, clearly reading Anakin's mood. "You'd do well to keep your head."

"Yes, Master," Anakin managed. Normally he'd quip back at Obi-Wan. His Master was growing more critical as Anakin got older, and Anakin was tired of it. Today, however, he didn't have room to feel frustration over Obi-Wan's criticisms. Anakin's emotional system was full; it was overflowing.

Anakin absent-mindedly tried to pat down his hair, though it was short, and it usually looked the same no matter what he did. He wished he could have been given the chance to visit the refresher, or at the very least the chance to change out of the same clothes he'd been wearing for days, his tunic that had not been washed. These were the realities of being on assignment, and Anakin did not usually mind roughing it, but today, of all days? Did he have to appear before you without even water to splash on his face? Anakin casually gave his shoulder a sniff, patting down his hair again.

"I'm sure she will be very happy to see us," Obi-Wan said, turning to face Anakin fully as the speeder made its way to the senate building. Anakin could tell that Obi-Wan was trying to reassure him, but the words lit a fire inside of Anakin. How would you react to seeing him again, after so long? He'd tried so hard with you, tried to get you to stop viewing him as only a rival, tried to get you to see all of his best qualities. Before your separation, you had slowly begun to trust him, to open up to him, to view him as a friend...but now? Anakin was terrified you would have closed your feelings to him completely, or worse, that you would have forgotten about him, that you would regard him as a part of your distant past. What if you had found someone else to spar with? What if you had begun to open your heart to someone else? Had you thought about him at all in the last two years? There was no way of knowing.

"It's been two years, Master," Anakin said, his fear overtaking the misery he had unintentionally infused into this statement. Anakin folded his hands in his lap, but this was a mistake—the clammy coldness he felt in his stomach seemed to transfer to his palms, which were slick with sweat.

"All the more reason for a happy reunion," Obi-Wan replied, giving Anakin a deliberate smirk.

***

"It's impossible," you said flatly, refusing to concede. "There's no way the senate would even suggest—"

"You're being naïve," Eha told you. Her voice was calm, but firm. You walked with her toward the dome-shaped senate building. "I don't think there's a limit to what the senate might do, if the senators felt the Republic itself—and therefore, the source of their salaries—was threatened."

"A military creation act? On the floor of the Galactic Senate," you stated, incredulous. "There hasn't been a military operation of that scale since—"

Since you didn't know when. Maybe Eha was right, and you were just being an optimist. But what she was suggesting was preposterous—the Jedi would never agree to such a wildly violent solution to a problem that could surely be solved through diplomacy. For some reason, as you walked closer to the senate building, you felt a coldness run through your body. You wrapped your cloak around yourself, looking around in confusion. It was not a cold day.

"Y/N," Master Yuma called, walking up to you with a brilliant smile on her face. "They're back. Obi-Wan and Anakin have returned from Carlac."

You froze. You couldn't help it—you felt as if your insides had fallen out of you, and you were left standing here, an empty shell, nothing inside you but empty space. You felt Master Yuma intuit all of this in your Force presence, and you worked to push her out. You'd learned this skill of blocking others from sensing you through the Force only recently, but you were mastering it quickly. If you continued to practice, soon others—even Master Yuma—would only be able to intuit your emotions, your presence itself, when you allowed them to. Blocking her out with the Force took some effort, but you succeeded, though you knew it was somewhat futile. Master Yuma knew you so well, and interpreted your movements and gestures so easily, she didn't really need the Force to be able to understand what was going on in your mind. Still, you would rather keep your emotions to yourself, especially when it came to Anakin.

"Oh," you responded, rather stupidly. Master Yuma gave you a supportive grip on the arm. It had been two full years since the last time you'd seen Anakin, when the two of you had returned from Hoth. In those two years, your abilities had grown beyond even your own expectations. It didn't matter that you had missed Anakin's presence, didn't matter that your stomach turned into a thousand winged insects when you heard his name. You were so close to your goal of knighthood, and you would not let anything get in the way of it. I cannot lose focus, you told yourself. I will not lose focus.

You knew you must be kind to Anakin, but keep your distance, firm in your commitment to your ideals and to the Jedi Order. It was likely that his feelings had changed, in the last two years, you reminded yourself. Your stomach churned at the thought. It had been a long time, and he was a teenage boy, though not for much longer. Anakin was 19. In the time he'd been gone, he had become a man. Surely he'd gotten over those particular emotional impressions you'd been so used to reading in his presence. It will make things easier, you told yourself, trying to banish the misery that you felt at recognizing how likely it was, that Anakin felt differently than he had two years ago. Anakin was your old friend. Nothing more.

You waited with Master Yuma and Eha at the entrance to the senate building. Master Yuma was excited to see her old friend, and her face showed it. Eha was watching you, but you kept your face impassive, a small, polite smile on your lips. You greeted other Jedi as they entered, nodding to them professionally. As you were speaking to Master Plo, you felt a rift in the air. It was as if a hole had been ripped through the Force, so intense was the shift in the current that you felt. You took a deep breath.

"Obi-Wan," Master Yuma said warmly, embracing the Jedi Master with open arms. Behind their hugging figures you saw him, peering at you, his face forming a small smile, his posture demure.

Your breath left your body. Anakin looked different. He was so...tall. He towered over Obi-Wan. His face was tanned, and he was no longer the skinny 17-year-old he had been. His muscles had filled out to match his height. He looked as if he'd spent these last two years doing manual labor in a sunny climate. The effect was...quite nice.

"Hello," Anakin said, walking over to stand in front of you, mirroring your polite smile, his eyes twinkling. His presence in the Force could not have been in more contrast to his diffident posture—it was as if energy were exploding out of him, light, joy, fear, excitement. He could have powered half the stars in the sky, with his presence, so powerful was the emotional current you felt coming from your friend.

"Hi," you said, your voice cracking slightly. You cleared your throat. I will not, you repeated in your head, lose focus.

"I missed you," Anakin said, his smile faltering, the blue of his eyes standing out even more than usual against his tanned skin. Crap. Focus, you thought, looking into the blue, losing your train of thought. Did he always have to be so forthright?

"What, were there no good sparring partners in the Outer Rim?" you asked, sarcasm coloring your voice. You always found it miraculous, how well you were able to hide your emotions. It was a skill you desperately needed, right now, and you thanked the stars you sounded somewhat normal. Anakin laughed.

"No," Anakin replied, his smile growing wider. "Not unless you count pirates."

"Only if they're good with a saber," you countered. Anakin's smile was contagious.

"Not so much," Anakin admitted. "Truthfully, there wasn't much company on Carlac." He stepped closer to you, his eyes betraying a hint of anxiety. "What about you? Did you...find any good sparring partners, while I was gone?" A nervousness had slipped into Anakin's casual tone. You intuited the meaning behind his question easily, and your heart flipped.

"None as good as you," you admitted. The honesty was worth seeing Anakin's face break into a complete and utter joy. He was beaming. It was dazzling. You smiled back, that little voice inside yourself yelling to you in warning. "It is a shame," you continued matter-of-factly, "that there wasn't anyone on Carlac to tell you how ridiculous your tan looks." You raised your eyebrows and enunciated the words, the hint of a sardonic smile gracing your lips.

"Ridiculous?" Anakin asked, his mouth opening in mock offense, his eyes playful. "What do you mean, ridiculous?" Anakin reached his hand out, touching your Padawan braid between his fingers gently, his features forming a mischievous look. He stood over you, moving his fingers slowly down your braid, and you looked up into his eyes. You got lost in this exchange for just a moment.

"Hi, Anakin," Eha said from over your shoulder, and Anakin's smile fell slightly, looking at her as if he suddenly had realized she was there.

"Oh, hi, Eha," Anakin said awkwardly, taking a step away from you, dropping your braid.

"Good to see you, Y/N," Obi-Wan said, grasping your arm affectionately. "It's been too long."

"It has, Master Obi-Wan," you said, smiling at him.

"I hear you have been advancing quickly," Obi-Wan said, smiling back at you, his eyes sparkling with pride. You looked down, biting your lip.

"Only because of Master Yuma's patience," you said, looking to your Master.

"I'm sure Y/N will get to show you some of her new skills," Master Yuma said, putting a comforting hand behind your back. "Right now, however, we're expected in the senate chambers."

Eha squeezed your hand, giving you a significant look before running off to find her Master. You and Anakin followed your Masters through the hallway, making your way to the balcony from which you would view the proceedings. For some reason, though, when you came to the lift, Master Obi-Wan pressed down instead of up.

"Where are we—?" you started to ask.

"The Chancellor has requested an audience," Obi-Wan said quietly, as if this was of no concern. "It won't take long." You crinkled your eyebrows, looking to Master Yuma. She shrugged. The lift moved downward, with you, Anakin, Master Obi-Wan, and Master Yuma standing awkwardly close together. The whole of the lift was filled with an incredible happiness. You felt as if this elation could lift you off the ground, so thick it was in the air. You blushed. Did Anakin really have to project his feelings so very loudly? You knew Master Yuma was reading the current in the air as easily as you were, and you guessed that Master Obi-Wan was also very aware of Anakin's feelings, and the reason behind them. Anakin might as well be shouting aloud, singing his emotions for everyone to hear. It was horribly embarrassing, but at the same time, you couldn't help but melt into the joy in the air, feeling it yourself. You worked to keep your Force block in place, worked to keep everyone out of your own head. You didn't want anyone else to feel your own sense of excitement at this reunion. You kept it small, hidden, folded into the very depths of yourself.

The doors to the lift opened, and you followed your Master through a small hallway into a chamber. You recognized the podium in the center of this chamber as the one that the Supreme Chancellor inhabited during senate meetings, though it was usually high up, in the center of the large arena full of senators. You realized that you were, now, underneath that large arena, in a sort of staging area.

"Master Kenobi," a warm voice greeted, and you turned to see the Chancellor himself walking toward the group of you, his arms outstretched in welcome. "How wonderful to see you back on Coruscant."

"We're glad to be back, Chancellor Palpatine," Obi-Wan greeted, shaking the politician's hand.

"And Anakin, goodness, you're growing into quite the young man," the Chancellor said, turning to Anakin, "and quite the Jedi, so I hear." Anakin smiled humbly at the Chancellor. It was odd—the Chancellor greeted Anakin as if they were old friends. You felt Anakin's lingering feelings from your reunion in the air, and felt in Master Obi-Wan a sense of apprehension. Whether this apprehension was due to greeting the Chancellor, or because of the meeting about to take place, you didn't know. You saw Master Yuma bow to the Chancellor, and you followed suit.

"Ah, and Master Yuma as well," the Chancellor said, grasping her hand. "Lovely to see you again."

"And you, Chancellor Palpatine. You look well." Master Yuma's tone was polite and reverential.

"This must be your Padawan, the star pupil I have heard so much about," Chancellor Palpatine said, turning to you, and you swallowed. The Chancellor himself had heard about you?

"It's an honor to meet you, Chancellor," you said politely, nodding to him. You felt out through the Force, trying to gauge the man in front of you, but for some reason, you felt nothing emanating from his presence, no emotions at all. It wasn't that uncommon, you reasoned, for you to meet someone whom you had trouble reading. These people were usually the unemotional type—since your Force abilities relied on the emotions of others, people who were less inclined to emotion, who were more practical, were not as easy for you to read. Still, even with those people, you usually felt a hint of something in their presence, even if it was faint. From the Chancellor you felt nothing at all. This puzzled you.

"I'm afraid I've called you here under less than ideal circ*mstances," the Chancellor said to Obi-Wan, heading back in the direction of his podium, where two assistants waited.

"I figured it wouldn't be good news," Obi-Wan said honestly. "The situation in the Outer Rim, as you know, has deteriorated under separatist influence."

"This is precisely what I would like to discuss," Chancellor Palpatine replied, turning to sit on his podium as the group of Jedi stood around him. "Today, a collection of senators will propose a military creation act. Though I predict this proposal will not lead to a successful vote, it is my fear that these senators might be in danger following their act of bravery today."

"You don't believe there is a chance this act will be successful?" Master Obi-Wan asked, stroking his beard, looking deep in thought. You felt his unease grow in the Force.

"It seems highly unlikely," Chancellor Palpatine countered. "The number of senators who I believe will create a strong opposition...well, it will take some time to glean the reality of the situation. During that time, it is my desire that the senators who are behind this proposal be personally protected."

"You are requesting a Jedi presence, while this political issue is being resolved?" Master Yuma asked thoughtfully.

"It would give me peace of mind," the Chancellor said softly, "to know that these separatists could not impact or sway the opinions of other senators, through violence."

"We will be happy to oblige your request, Chancellor." Obi-Wan turned to Master Yuma. "Though of course we must discuss this with the council."

"Certainly. And of course, Master Yuma and her Padawan should join you, if you are to act as security in the senate apartments," the Chancellor said, looking briefly between you and Anakin. "I personally would feel more at ease, knowing that your talented Padawans are in on the protection efforts."

"Of course," Obi-Wan said, glancing from you and back to Anakin.

"Well, I must take my leave, as I am needed elsewhere," Chancellor Palpatine said, his tone turning more professional. This was your cue to leave.

***

"Protection is a job for local security, not Jedi," Anakin whispered to Obi-Wan, his brow furrowed. The four of you sat in the balcony amidst the other Jedi, viewing the senate proceedings below.

"Hush, Anakin, not now. I need to listen," Obi-Wan said, watching as Senator Onaconda Farr began to speak. You felt Anakin's discomfort through the Force, a small drop in the vast sea of his Force presence, which was still completely overwhelmed by elation, a giddiness that was distracting you from the meeting unfolding below. You turned to Master Yuma.

"Was Chancellor Palpatine ever a Jedi?" you asked, your confusion reading on your face.

"What?" Master Yuma asked, her eyes still on the senator. "No," she whispered, looking back at you. "Why?"

"I don't know...no reason, I guess," you responded quietly, deep in thought. You supposed being unemotional might be a useful personality trait for a politician. Still, something about the Chancellor confused you, as if he were multiple conflicting things.

"Do you really think the Republic might create a military?" you whispered in Anakin's ear, your heart beating quickly, for a variety of reasons.

"I don't know," Anakin responded, turning to you, his face very close to yours. You could feel his breath on your face. "Why shouldn't the Republic have a military? It would make it so that we could more easily solve problems."

"Yes, but solve problems through violence," you whispered in reply, distracted from Anakin's face momentarily by the absurdity of his words. He was still gazing at you, and you felt his thoughts go in the opposite direction from violence. His emotional current had not changed much since you had first greeted each other, and it had not lessened in its intensity.

"It is good to see you," Anakin whispered, his emotions spilling out of his blue eyes. You inhaled, holding your breath. "I didn't know if I would ever see you, again...it's been so long..."

"I know," you told him shortly, in a whisper, and these words seemed to elicit a response from him, his eyes widening.

"If the council approves the Chancellor's request," Anakin whispered slowly, looking back to the center of the senate arena, "then we'll be working with each other, again." His eyes shined with happiness at these words.

"Yeah," you scoffed, "protecting militant-leaning senators." You too looked down at the arena.

"Together," Anakin whispered, looking back at you. You didn't need to turn back to look at him. You felt the intensity of his Force presence. You repeated your mantra to yourself in your head, but it didn't matter. The focus you had perfected over these last few years was cracking so easily under the pressure of Anakin's gaze. You worked the air in and out of your lungs. You didn't know what was to come in the future, but you knew one thing: you were in big trouble.

Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Anakin stood waiting in the courtyard, his hands behind his back, trying to contain himself. They'd returned to the Temple so Master Obi-Wan and Master Yuma could speak with the council. Anakin had used the opportunity to take a very much-needed visit to the refresher, and to don fresh clothes. A normal person would have wanted to savor the time spent in the hot water, a chance to relax a bit after so long of sleeping on ships and in haphazard camps. Anakin, however, raced through the process of cleaning himself, brushing his teeth and changing as quickly as possible. Now he waited in the Temple's courtyard, where he was supposed to meet his Master after their meeting, and where you were supposed to meet yours.

Anakin wasn't able to explain away the jittery, impatient mood he was in, even in his own mind. To get to be assigned to a mission with you, after so many years...the idea of proximity alone overwhelmed him. He felt both blissfully happy and completely panicked—he thought you'd seemed pleased to see him, but he could never be sure with you, and now he was facing some uninterrupted time in your presence, time to talk to you, time to look upon you, time to tell you how he really felt, finally, and to see if you felt the same way. Fear rocked through him. What could he say? How would he go about it? Anakin looked around the courtyard. A group of younglings sat nearby, playing a game with their hands. Anakin got distracted, watching them. He remembered standing in these very same gardens, walking up to a group of younglings back when you had been among them.

"You again," he heard, in your familiar, soft voice. He felt as if the vibrations from your speech went all the way through him. He often felt this way, hearing you speak. In those rare moments when you said his name, the effect was even more pronounced.

"Back so soon," he smiled, looking upon you with glee. It was so peculiar—you looked different, that was certain, and yet your presence felt the very same to Anakin after all this time. You'd grown a bit taller, and though you were still small, your age had caught up with you—you no longer looked like a child, your body composition having changed into a woman's. Your face looked older, too—Anakin noticed subtle changes in the shape of your cheeks, in the way your eyes moved up on your forehead. The changes suited you. Anakin swallowed, feeling his mouth go dry. Though you'd grown up, he felt same sort of aura coming from you, the same distinct personality, the same specific sensation coming from your being in your presence. And the way you looked at him now—there was no denying it. You were happy to be in his presence, too. Anakin resisted the urge to put his hand over his mouth to cover his smile. That would look childish, he knew. He stood up straight, hoping his height would help him to appear impressive.

"I half expected you to disappear for another couple of years," you joked, your features casually flippant.

"I half expected the same," Anakin admitted. But your conversation was interrupted by the younglings, who, upon seeing you, had run over to tug on your robes.

"Y/N! Y/N!" the smallest one chanted, trying to hug your leg. You laughed.

"Do the thing!" another youngling chimed, looking up at you, pleading. "Come on Y/N, do the thing!"

"Okay," you said, laughing. "Who wants to try it?" All of the younglings raised their hands, tripping over each other in excitement.

"Me, please! I have a good one," one of the younglings trilled. You nodded.

"Okay, okay. Tell me," you agreed, bending down to the little one. "But remember, it has to be an image, okay? A place, a person, an impression; not a word."

"We know," one of the older younglings babbled, clearly excited. The youngling that spoke first was whispering something into your ear. You giggled.

"Okay," you said, standing up. "Who wants to try to read my mind?" All of the younglings jumped up, raising their hands into the air. You looked around at them all. Anakin observed you, regarding your playful gestures. He felt almost as if he were one of these younglings, watching you with admiration, wishing to be chosen.

"Botu, how about you?" you asked, and one of the taller, more timid younglings stepped forward, beaming. You made a show of putting your finger to your temple, and closing your eyes. Anakin saw you concentrate, felt your effort moving through the Force, and he felt something, passing between you and Botu, but he couldn't identify what it was.

"Okay, Botu, what do you see? Look inside your mind," you instructed, grinning.

"I see...well, I feel comfort, and quiet. I see the color green. And it's...wrinkly," Botu erupted into giggles. "Master Yoda?!"

"Yes!" shouted the youngling who had whispered into your ear. "You got it!"

"How do you do that," one of the other younglings said, looking at you in amazement.

"Me next! Me next!" one of the other younglings said, tugging on your robes.

"I'm sorry, but this game of...Force telephone will have to continue another time," Master Yuma said, striding up behind you, Anakin and the younglings. All of the younglings bowed to Master Yuma, looking quite disappointed.

"Next time," you told the youngling who had been tugging on you, bending down to look her in the eye, "you can go first." The youngling smiled.

"So it's like your ability to intuit, but in reverse?" Anakin asked, having watched the scene unfold in awe. "You can put emotional impressions into someone else's head, instead of reading their own?"

"Sort of, yes," you said humbly, turning back to face Master Yuma and Master Obi-Wan, who had just entered the courtyard. "It's not an exact science, but—"

"We've been working on manipulating Y/N's natural gifts," Master Yuma told Anakin softly, "experimenting, trying to see what else she might be able to do, with enough practice."

"It was actually you," you said to Anakin, your face flushing red, "who gave me the idea. When you started thinking of specific impressions, on our way back from Hoth..." Anakin watched as you looked down, as if you were embarrassed by something. "You chose what to think of, what to put into my head—so I thought that maybe I could do the same. You know, put impressions into someone else's mind."

"That's quite impressive," Master Obi-Wan said, looking interested.

"What else have you learned to do?" Anakin asked curiously, as the four of you walked out of the Temple's main entrance, toward the bottom of the stairs where a transport awaited to take you to the senate apartments.

"Well," you sighed, looking to Master Yuma with mild discomfort, "I've also been practicing blocking others out of my Force presence—making it so that others can't sense my feelings, or even my presence at all." You looked forward as you walked, as if you were looking somewhere else, to another thought. "It will likely come in handy, at some point, to be able to disguise myself."

"Certainly," Obi-Wan said, looking at you, and then back at Anakin.

"She has advanced quickly," Master Yuma said delicately, looking back to you. "I'm not sure how much more I have to teach her."

"Nonsense," you uttered, reaching out to take your Master's arm. "You have endless things to teach me, still."

"My Padawan could take a lesson from you in modesty and humility," Obi-Wan joked, sliding his eyes over to Anakin. Anakin felt himself grow frustrated, but tried not to show it on his face.

"And my Padawan could take a lesson from yours in candor, and openness," Master Yuma countered, smiling to herself. Anakin saw your face turn an even brighter red, and felt your familiar presence shrink back in the Force, as if you yourself were withdrawing it from the air. This displeased him—Anakin didn't want your Force presence to vanish, not when he was finally able to feel it again. Looking upon you, but feeling nothing in the air, nothing of your familiar aura, was unsettling. While he pondered over what Master Yuma meant by her comment, they reached the transport, walking up the steps of the open ramp.

"We have been assigned to protect Senators Farr and Harrow, as the Chancellor requested," Obi-Wan told you both as you stepped into the transport, putting your hands up to hold onto the rail. "There will likely be other Jedi filtering in and out, watching over some of the other senators. The council agrees with the Chancellor's fears of retaliation from the separatists."

"Simple enough," Anakin said, hoping his lean against the upper handle bar looked casual. The sun was setting outside, casting an orange glow through the windows.

"No assignment is ever simple," Obi-Wan retorted. "Not with you, Anakin."

***

You followed Master Obi-Wan and Master Yuma through yet another basem*nt hallway of the large and luxurious Senate Apartment Complex. Most senators lived in the lavish suite-style apartments housed in this building, and you'd just been given a very long and very extensive tour of the structure, its nooks and crannies, any spot that a potential attacker might be able to squeeze through. The head of security had just led you through the control center, the basem*nt room full of holoscreens showing the viewpoints to every entrance and exit, and every floor's hallway. You couldn't believe how the senators lived—though living in the Temple was not by any means roughing it, the amount of space and luxury afforded by these apartments was astounding. You wondered over the ethics of it all—that public servants, those who made decisions that impacted the lives of the Republic's citizens, should live in far nicer accommodations than most normal people. Jedi, who also considered themselves to be public servants, refused possessions and fancy accommodations. Not everyone, you reminded yourself, believed in the Jedi code so fervently as you did. Still, it was hard not to judge these senators, when their lifestyles were far more extravagant than the lives of the people they served.

"We've prepared a room for you to rest, when you're not on guard duty," the security officer was saying. "It's not much, but we don’t have much space to spare down here, other than a few cots."

"That will be fine, thank you," Master Yuma said graciously, as you were led into a small room without any windows, with three cots on opposite walls. You gulped. On missions, you were used to sleeping in the corners of the ship, or on the hard ground under the open sky, or in a tent on some faraway planet, in the midst of formidable storms or harsh climates. Having a room with walls and a cot was luxurious, by Jedi standards. Still, these communal accommodations meant that you would have no door to close between Anakin and yourself, and thus, you would not have a moment to rest, would not have a moment that did not necessitate you trying to make sure none of your emotions escaped your Force block. It was normal for Jedi to sleep in such close quarters; what was not normal was whatever was causing your heart to beat so loudly against your ribs. You sighed, audibly, and then felt flushed, fearing your reaction had been ill-mannered.

"There are only three?" Anakin asked, and you saw that he too was blushing.

"We'll be on duty, most of the time," Master Obi-Wan answered. "Patrolling outside the apartments of the senators. I doubt there will even be three of us, sleeping in here at one time." You nodded. This made sense, and though it was still early, you felt tiredness weighing you down.

"Obi-Wan, Anakin, since you've both just returned this morning, I'm sure you're exhausted," Master Yuma said assertively, looking to you. "My Padawan and I will take the first watch."

"Actually, Yuma, I'd like to get the lay of the land," Obi-Wan said, stroking his beard. Master Yuma was right—he did look quite tired. "Let's let our Padawans get some rest."

"Are you sure, Master?" you asked him, seeing the redness in his eyes. He nodded.

"I'll wake you for the next watch," Master Yuma told you, handing you your comm. "We'll signal if there's anything amiss." You took the comm from her hand, and she, Obi-Wan, and the security officer left the room.

"A bit weird, isn't it," you asked thoughtfully, feeling the hum of Coruscant above you, wishing this basem*nt room had a window. Anakin froze.

"What?" he asked, looking at you with a twinge of fear.

"Being out on assignment, but still on Coruscant," you replied, looking at Anakin, feeling awkward and self-conscious as you stood in this small room, alone together. "Being on mission, but still on world."

"Yeah," Anakin said, looking relieved, sitting down on one of the cots. "It is a bit weird, to be back here, but not at the Temple."

"You've been gone a long time," you observed, sitting down on the cot farthest from the one Anakin chose, across the small room. "Was it hard, to be gone so long?"

"Yes," Anakin admitted. "I felt cut off from everyone, everything...except Obi-Wan, of course."

"Isn't that the Jedi way, though?" you asked, pulling the blanket from the cot around yourself. It was cold, in here. "To cut oneself off from the familiar, from attachments, and to focus only on the mission at hand?"

"It's easier said than done," Anakin responded. You nodded, watching his face, the shape his lips made in a small pout.

"We're never really apart from anything, though," you observed quietly, looking at Anakin sitting on his cot. "The Force binds everything together. Nothing is ever really separate."

"You make it sound so romantic, when you say it like that," Anakin said, smiling, turning to look you in the eyes. You swallowed.

"Well," you managed, struggling to get the words out, "it is romantic. Not in the, like, falling in love way," you continued, your face flushed, "but in the like, idealistic, sentimental view of life way." You smiled in spite of yourself.

"I think it sounds a bit inhumane," Anakin countered, speaking carefully. "To deprive oneself of all attachments? It works in theory, but not in practice. I mean, look at you and Master Yuma. Or you and Eha. Clearly, you are very attached."

"In a way, I suppose..." you conceded, looking down at the floor, sensing that there was more weight to this conversation than either of you were letting on. "But though the connection I feel to Master Yuma is deep, I also know that it is temporary. It makes me sad to think about it that way," you continued, looking back at Anakin, "but also, it's a sacred kind of sadness. Because I know we'll never truly be separate; because I know we will always be together, bound by the Force, even after one of us is gone..." you sighed. "It's connection, but not possession. It's the understanding that all things pass, in time."

"You sound like Obi-Wan," Anakin said, his eyebrows pulling down in a slight scowl. "Are you cold?" he asked, seeing you shivering beneath your blanket. You nodded. Anakin got up, taking the blanket from the remaining cot and walking over to you. "I think you're wrong," Anakin said, meeting your eyes as he wrapped the second blanket around your shoulders, slowly and carefully. "I don't think all things pass." You looked up at him, mesmerized, for a moment, by the intensity of his gaze. He kept his hand on your shoulder for a bit too long. You shook your head quickly, out of habit, looking away from him. He pulled back his hand.

"Are you tired?" Anakin asked. You felt the tiredness in your body, though you had done nothing today but attend a senate meeting. You nodded. Anakin walked back over to his cot. He took his comm out of his pocket and placed it on the floor next to him. You did the same. Jedi often slept in their clothes and boots while on assignment—you needed to be ready, at all times, to spring into action. You moved both blankets around so that they lay on top of you, trying to warm yourself. You were cold more often lately. It was puzzling.

"Goodnight, flea," Anakin said, uncertainly, as he lay on his side, looking at you from his cot. You blushed. He hadn't called you that in a long time. You couldn't fall asleep like this, when he lay there, watching you, his blue eyes gleaming in the low light like your own personal stars.

"Goodnight," you told him softly, pulling the blankets up over your head.

***

You awoke with a gasp, hand on your saber, taking in your surroundings, the sounds you'd heard filling you with a horrible fear. You looked around the dark room. You saw no danger.

Anakin was thrashing in his sleep, making whimpering sounds. You inhaled and held your breath in, sitting up in your cot, watching him move back and forth, his blankets a sweaty mess around him.

"Ani?" you asked softly, but he continued to whimper and moan, his face screwed up as if he were in pain.

"No," he sobbed, his eyes still closed, his face wet, his hands grabbing at the sheets of the cot. "No, mom, no..." he cried. You stood up quickly, walking over to his bedside and kneeling beside him. Your heart was breaking in half. You'd never seen Anakin cry, never heard him make sounds like this. They filled your body with a horrible emotion, and you felt it coming off of him. It was fear, grief...agony. You felt in his mind the impression of a face, the face of a pretty, middle aged woman with brown hair and kind eyes. You saw, with him, as she was hit over the head by a large staff of some kind, watched her crumple to the ground.

"No!" Anakin cried out, thrashing back and forth.

"Ani," you begged, putting your hands on his arm. "Ani, wake up, please, you have to wake up." You tried to keep your tone calm, and gentle, though intuiting Anakin's feelings was making you shake on your knees.

"No, mom..." Anakin whimpered, tears streaming down his sleeping face.

"Ani, please, Ani, wake up," you shook him fiercely, wanting to stop his pain, but not knowing how. "Ani, wake up!"

Anakin sprung up in bed, breathing heavily, gasping for air, and you knelt beside him, your hands on his arm. Sweat soaked through his tunic.

"Ani, it's okay, Ani," you tried to shush him as he looked around, looked down at you, confused. "It's okay, it was just a nightmare." Through Anakin's heavy breathing you relived the emotions with him, felt the passing images and impressions in your mind.

"Jedi don't have nightmares," Anakin scoffed, suddenly looking angry, shoving your hands off of him and turning to face away from you. You leaned back, startled.

"Anakin..." you responded, watching his huddled figure working his way back to himself through heaving breaths.

"Just leave me alone," Anakin retorted sulkily, keeping his head turned away from you, and you felt as if he'd slapped you, felt the stinging of this snub through your Force presence. Tears came behind your eyes, and you worked hard to keep them from spilling as you stood up and backed away. You felt Anakin's presence shift, his moment of anger souring into a bitter remorse, into humiliation.

"I'm sorry," Anakin said quickly, turning back to face you, trying to breathe deeply, to calm himself. You saw the tears on his face shining in the low light of the dim lamps. "I didn't mean that, I just..."

"It's okay," you said softly, standing in front of him, trying to inconspicuously wipe your own tears out of the corners of your eyes. You and Anakin were silent for a moment, your bodies very still, neither of you looking at the other, both of you unsure of what to say.

"Was that...was that your mother?" you asked gently, taking a tentative step toward Anakin. He winced, then nodded. You sat down on the edge of the cot, watching him cautiously.

"I don't know...I haven't dreamt about her in so long," Anakin admitted, looking fretful. "I don't know what that dream meant, why she was hurting so much..."

"It was just a dream, Ani," you said soothingly, reaching out to put your hand on his arm again. You felt his Force presence tick upward, felt the agony and fear he felt mixing with something else.

"I don't know," Anakin repeated, shaking his head, "it felt so real."

"But it wasn't," you said bracingly. You took a deep breath, concentrating your efforts, and began to project your thoughts outward. You focused hard on specific impressions. You saw the sun moving between the clouds, remembered the feeling of cool air on your face; you pictured peaceful blades of grass struggling under the weight of morning dew; you imagined the feeling of racing a speeder through the air; you called into your mind the impression left by laughter. They weren't specific, but you knew that these types of emotional impressions were, for the most part, universally calming. These were the sounds, sights, and feelings of being alive; of being at peace.

"I know what you're doing," Anakin said, moving to face you, taking your hand from his arm and holding it between his fingers. "Thank you, but I don't need to see elsewhere, to calm myself," he continued, looking you straight in the face, his breathing finally having returned to normal. "Not right now." He watched you, holding your hand, and the look in his eyes was overwhelming, There was such tenderness in his features, features which only a few moments ago had been screwed up in anger. You felt a great conflict within yourself. Anakin started to lean his face toward yours.

"I—" you said quickly, dropping his hand, jumping up. "I've—got to go find Master Yuma." You turned around, your hands shaking, reaching for your comm. "It's—it'll be close to time, to switch the watch." You hurried from the room without looking back, trying to ignore the feelings of hurt and disappointment you felt reaching out to you through the Force.

*************************

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Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

You stood in the lift as it moved slowly upward, toward Senator Farr's floor. You were shaking, and it wasn't from the cold. You tried to put everything you were feeling out of your mind, but it was difficult. Anakin crying, sobbing in his sleep; Anakin yelling at you to get away from him; and then, shortly after, Anakin leaning in toward you, as if he meant...as if he meant to...

You shook your head to clear it, as you often did, but it didn't help. You felt the whiplash of the evening as if you'd actually been thrown back and forth. You put your arms around yourself in your tunic, wishing you'd grabbed your Jedi robes before you'd stormed out of that room.

The lift opened and you walked quickly toward the Senator's apartment, where you knew Master Yuma and Master Obi-Wan would be standing guard. Senator Farr had been slightly grumpy about Jedi coming and going from his apartment as if they owned the place, but you'd felt his fear through the Force when he was confronted with the possibility of separatist violence. You waved the lock open with the Force and heard it click, entering the apartment quietly. Master Obi-Wan and Master Yuma, you saw, were standing on the apartment's luxurious balcony, looking out at the city. Their figures were illuminated by the moonlight, and they were talking quietly. As you walked toward them, Master Yuma looked over, sensing your presence, and cut off her speech quickly, looking back to Obi-Wan in warning. Clearly, whatever they had been discussing was not meant for your ears.

"Is everything all right?" Master Yuma asked you, looking you over, and you pulled your Force presence back into yourself, making sure not to give anything away.

"Everything is fine, Master," you said with an even voice. "It's time to switch the watch." Master Yuma looked down at her chrono.

"I suppose you're right," she said slowly, looking to you in confusion, trying and failing to read the hurricane you felt in your mind. You gazed at her, keeping your face stony. She responded with an exasperated look.

"Obi-Wan," Master Yuma said, turning back to him, "go get some sleep. My Padawan and I will continue the watch until morning." In her words you heard an unspoken threat; you knew you wouldn't escape Master Yuma's scrutiny for long, that she would make you tell her what was going on in your head. Master Obi-Wan looked out at the moon.

"I really feel I must stay," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, his face illuminated in the low light of the sky.

"But Obi-Wan," Master Yuma said, "you've got to be exhausted." Obi-Wan held up his hand, quieting her.

"I will rest in the morning, Yuma. You should go get some sleep." Obi-Wan looked at her kindly, his Force presence exhibiting a lot of complicated emotions. Master Yuma searched his eyes for a moment, and then nodded.

"See you soon," Master Yuma said to you, and the light touch on your hand she gave you communicated to you that your unspoken conversation was not finished. She turned and left the apartment.

"It is truly a pleasure to see you both, again," Master Obi-Wan said to you as you stepped forward to take Master Yuma's position next to him. "I am amazed at how much you've grown, both in your powers and into yourself." You were surprised, but pleased to hear Obi-Wan speaking this way. He wasn't one to give gratuitous praise, you knew. You gave him a small smile.

"Still," Obi-Wan continued, "I feel in the Force an unknown current, something that makes me apprehensive." He looked away from you, outward, back to the Coruscanti skyline, his eyes glazed with thought. "A part of me worries about the repercussions, of working with you and Master Yuma again. The paths that might unfold, given this reunion, for my Padawan and myself." You balked at Obi-Wan's turned face. He was speaking so plainly, speaking to you as if you were a contemporary of his, as if he regarded you as an equal. Though his speech was careful, it was clear to you what he was referring to, and you couldn't believe he was being so candid. It was as if he knew everything that had just occurred down in that basem*nt room, as if he perhaps knew more of the situation than even you did.

"I feel...similarly conflicted," you responded, keeping your speech just as careful. You joined him in looking out at the city beneath you, but you didn't need your eyes to see him. You felt in Obi-Wan his caution, his uncertainty, but also other things, among them a deep love and respect for his Padawan. The strength of Obi-Wan and Anakin's bond was comparable only to your bond with your own Master. Though you knew many Padawan's felt deep admiration for their Masters, for you, and for Anakin, you knew, it was more than admiration. It was a familial tie, one that could not be severed, even in death.

"You have grown in more than just skill, I sense," Obi-Wan continued, still looking outward. "The wisdom you often show surpasses your age. But," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, stroking his beard, "such wisdom can often be a burden, particularly for one so young." Obi-Wan turned to face you, and you mirrored him, looking up at the Jedi carefully. "I trust your ability to handle whatever difficulty may lie ahead," Obi-Wan told you affectionately, putting his hand on your shoulder. You breathed quickly. Though Obi-Wan's words were filled with care and compassion, in them you felt the hint of a warning.

"A good Jedi must keep her mind open," you repeated your own Master's words, looking down at your feet. "It—it does not do one any good, to dwell too much over questions of the future."

"This is true," Obi-Wan said, his face curling into a smile. "You are a good person, Y/N. You will make a powerful and discerning Jedi Knight."

"Thank you," you replied softly, looking up at Obi-Wan, the weight of his fatherly affection warming you like a blanket.

"Do you think—" you started to ask, but you were cut off by a sharp current in the air, a vibration that cut through you as if you'd been cut by a saber. You inhaled sharply.

"I sense it too," Obi-Wan said quickly, his lightsaber drawn. The two of you ran from the balcony.

***

Anakin couldn't sleep. He heard Master Yuma come into the room, knew from the sound of her footsteps that it was her and not Obi-Wan you had relieved from the watch, and for this, he was grateful. With Master Yuma he could feign sleep, pretend just by lying still. He wanted to toss and turn, to pace the room, but he stopped himself, lying on his back with his eyes closed and his arms folded on top of him.

As much as the nightmare had disturbed him, it was his own reaction to you that kept him up now. He was furious with himself. Why had he lashed out at you, telling you to go away, when what he wanted most in the world was for you to do the very opposite? And then, after you had forgiven him for his outburst, why had he chosen that moment to try to kiss you? Anakin pushed the mortification around inside of him, but he could not free himself of its grasp. It had been a horrible moment to choose, to try to lean his face toward yours, to try to make a move that would alter your relationship forever. The problem was that it hadn't been a conscious choice at all, but rather, an impulsive act. It was just like Anakin, to act impulsively and ruin the moment. And then, the way you had run from the room, run away from him, as if you'd been horrified by his actions...Anakin furrowed his brow, wanting to erase the whole interaction from his mind.

The dream floated around in the back of Anakin's consciousness, tugging at a part of him he rarely let himself focus on...his mother had told him not to look back, when he'd left Tatooine, and he had followed her advice, trying hard not to think of his past life. It was nonsensical, to long for the days of his life when he'd been a slave on that godforsaken sand dune of a planet, especially now that he led the exciting life of a Jedi, a life he himself had always dreamt about. Still, a part of him wished he could open his eyes and wake up in his mother's small slave quarters, get up to help her with the washing, head to Watto's workshop. He missed his mother with every part of him, missed her so much that he wouldn't let himself think of it, wouldn't let himself feel how painful the ache was. Why had he dreamt of her being hurt? Why now?

Anakin was stirred from his thoughts by a beeping sound, coming from his own commlink and echoing from across the room, where Master Yuma's comm was blinking. Anakin was on his feet immediately, Master Yuma just milliseconds behind him. The beeping had signaled danger.

Both Anakin and Master Yuma ran from the room wordlessly, through the maze of the basem*nt security hallways, toward the lift. Though you and Obi-Wan were up on the second highest floor, in Senator Farr's apartment, Anakin felt a disturbance in the Force elsewhere, in the middle of the building. This confused him.

When they entered the lift, Anakin looked at Master Yuma, and she looked back, intuiting that they both had felt this current shift.

"Floor...five," Anakin breathed, and Master Yuma nodded, punching the button. Anakin urged the lift to move faster. What was the danger? Why weren't you protecting Senator Farr? What was going on?

The lift doors had barely opened, but Anakin was through them, running through the hallway, Master Yuma trailing closely behind.

"That door there!" Master Yuma whisper-shouted, relying on her senses to guide both of them to where they were needed. Anakin waved the door unlocked with his mind, and burst into the unknown apartment, running through the living room.

They came upon a horrifying scene. It took Anakin a moment to understand the situation, to take it all in: there you were, holding your body flat against a wall, not moving. There was Obi-Wan, near you, his hand outstretched, his eyes fearful. There was a Togruta in the bed, presumably the senator who lived here, sitting up, looking terrified as he pulled his sheets up to his chest. The scene didn't make sense; there was no attacker. Why did everyone look so terrified?

Master Yuma breathed in quickly, and Anakin, looking harder, saw a very small dart floating in the air in front of your face. It was so small, Anakin thought it could be a trick of the light—the tiny droid, only just bigger than a needle, poised in the air, pointed at you.

"A pursuer dart," Master Yuma explained breathily into Anakin's ear, reading his confusion. "The shadow of an assassin. So small it can barely be seen, so light, but full of a powerful poison. It can kill in mere seconds." Anakin felt as if the floor had dropped out from under him.

"Why does it hover?" Anakin asked, his fear spiking as you moved your eyes to meet his, frozen where you were against the wall.

"It attacks when it senses movement," Obi-Wan said quietly. "It knows the specific DNA of the one it must kill. It reads you when your muscles move."

"Keep still, my child," Master Yuma breathed, watching you with dread. You moved your eyes to her, looking her in the face with fear and a bit of defiance, as if to say, no duh.

"Why is it trained on Y/N?" Anakin asked, his eyes wide with fear.

"There was another pursuer dart," Obi-Wan explained, "that tried to attack our friend, here." He gestured to the Togruta, terrified in his bed. "Y/N destroyed it. This one seems to have picked up her chromosomal mark, and trained itself on the threat, rather than the intended target." Anakin saw a small, needle-sized dart, broken on the floor.

"So, you fear if you destroy this one," Anakin pieced together, "another might appear?"

"Precisely," Obi-Wan said, his eyes not leaving you, frozen as you were against the wall. "Please, Anakin, conduct a sweep."

Anakin and Master Yuma searched the apartment, covering every wall, every window, every small space in which a droid could have breached the security shield around the building. Anakin felt his hands shaking as he searched, his eyes blurred over with his fear. To see something threaten your life, and to not be able to immediately attack it, to immediately dispose of the threat...it was infuriating. It was terrifying. He pushed these emotions away from him, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Here, Master," Anakin called from the corner of the living room. A small capsule lay on the floor, with one end that looked like a drill. The capsule lay open, and immobile.

"Well, that explains how the pursuers got in," Master Yuma said quickly, picking up the capsule and examining it. "And look," she said, holding the small metallic case out to Anakin, "two slots. Two pursuers." They hurried back into the bedroom, where Obi-Wan was standing over you, talking quietly to you, trying to keep you calm and still.

"We've found the casing," Master Yuma told Obi-Wan. "It looks like it drilled through the shield and perhaps the wall itself. But it is unlikely there is another pursuer." Master Yuma held the capsule out for Obi-Wan to inspect. He nodded. Anakin felt his body flood with relief.

"Hold still, Y/N," Obi-Wan said quickly, before taking out his saber with a flash. It happened so fast, a normal person would have missed the small dart breaking apart and falling to the floor in pieces. All four Jedi, however, having excellent reflexes, watched as Obi-Wan's blue blade broke the poisonous dart. You breathed deeply, putting down your arms, the anxiety fading from your face.

"Thank—" you started to say, but Anakin had already crossed the room, pulling you into a deep hug. He couldn't help himself. His relief washed through him, and he couldn't stop himself from folding his arms around you. Miraculously, you didn't pull away. Anakin was so much taller than you, he tucked his head over yours, putting a hand through the hair on the back of your head. Anakin felt as if he'd never truly breathed properly, before this moment. He felt freed of all bad feelings, all fear and insecurity. He felt at home. Finally, you pulled back from him, your face bright red in color. Anakin grinned shyly.

"Everyone, meet Senator Grano," Obi-Wan said, watching Anakin with a hint of amusem*nt. The senator, who still looked very afraid indeed, held up a small, polite hand.

"We're very sorry for the intrusion, senator," Master Yuma said, stepping closer to you and putting an arm around your shoulders. Anakin was not the only one who was relieved you were okay

"That's quite all right, Master Jedi," the senator said with a shaky voice.

"But who sent these pursuers? And why attempt an attack on Senator Grano?" Anakin asked, looking to you, searching your face for any sign that you might be feeling the way he did inside. He'd never hugged you before. The feeling lingered on his skin, in his whole self.

"That is a question I have no answer for," Obi-Wan replied, stroking his beard, looking exhausted. "But certainly something we must discuss with the council."

***

As you walked with Anakin back toward Senator Farr's apartment, you worked hard to pull your Force presence back, folding it up neatly within yourself, keeping it hidden. Master Yuma and Master Obi-Wan had gone to speak with the council about this disturbing turn of events, and you and Anakin had been sent back into position, to stand guard over Senator Farr, as that had been your original assignment.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Anakin said softly, as you reached for the doorknob to let yourself in.

"Do what?" you asked, confused, pulling open the door and entering the quiet apartment. Senator Farr was still asleep, you knew, in the next room, but the living room was illuminated in gold, the sunrise peeking out from behind the city and covering the balcony with its yellow glow.

"Pull yourself back like that," Anakin explained, striding out onto the balcony, you following close behind. "In the Force."

"Huh..." you said, still slightly confused, standing with Anakin on the balcony and watching the sun come up from the uneven Coruscanti horizon, buildings stretching high even in the distance. "I guess I hadn't realized you noticed."

Anakin held onto the railing, looking out over the city. "It's just," he said, looking down at his hands, "I waited so long, to see you again, to feel your presence...I don't like it when it disappears."

You didn't know what to say to this. You felt the ghost of the hug Anakin had given you earlier on your skin, felt a shiver run through you.

"Cold again?" Anakin asked, and you nodded, though you were lying. It wasn't the cold that caused your body to shake. Anakin took off his own robe, wrapping it around you wordlessly. The gesture was sweet. The shaking continued. You felt Anakin's emotions swirling inside of him, as usual, but something felt different in him. Amidst the joy, the affection, the confidence, you felt the beginnings of a current that was unfamiliar to you. It was somehow submissive, somehow fearful, insecure...like reverence.

"Y/N," Anakin began, "I—"

The door to the apartment clicked open, and in a moment, you and Anakin had your lightsabers drawn, standing side by side, blue blades mixing with the yellow light of the morning. It took you only a moment to recognize the figure that now entered Senator Farr's dwelling.

"Henry?" you asked, confused, clicking your saber off, and stowing it on your belt. You felt a darkness enter the Force currents beside you, and, additionally, felt Henry's emotions swelling with joy in the Force. The contrast between these Force impressions left you feeling a bit dizzy.

"Hi, Y/N," Henry said kindly, walking out onto the balcony beside you and Anakin. "And hello again, Anakin," Henry said politely, though you thought you heard something else beneath his politeness. You frowned.

"What...what are you doing here?" you asked, squinting as you took in the figure of your friend, a friend you had not seen in years.

"The council has assigned more Jedi Knights, to protect the senate apartments," Henry explained, smiling at you. "Given the attempted assassination on Senator Grano. I hear thwarting that attempt was your doing," Henry continued, looking at you admiringly. "Impressive."

"When you say Knights..." you said, the beginnings of a smile gracing your face. "Do you mean...?" Henry nodded, looking down, his smile holding his face hostage.

"You passed your trials?" you squeaked, and you couldn't help yourself. You hugged him, your face pink. "That's wonderful, Henry, congratulations!" You stepped back. When you'd wrapped your arms around him, you'd felt something else enter Henry's presence, something new, something that made your breath stutter.

"Congratulations, Henry," Anakin said beside you, his voice quiet, calm, and even. You felt his Force presence moving quickly from emotion to emotion, from anger, to fear, to longing, to hatred. It felt as if the usual storming had turned electric, lightning hitting every part of Anakin's insides, and yours. You looked between Henry and Anakin, holding your breath. This, you thought, might be a problem.

*******************************

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Chapter 13: Chapter 13

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Even after spending a week on assignment at the senate apartments, getting to know the floorplans and hallways intimately, you still had a hard time believing the extent of the luxury. You were sitting on one end of a long conference table that was made of a beautiful polished wood. The room was walled by windows on three sides, and the beauty of Coruscant shining in the sun hit you from every angle. This was, you supposed, a room in which senators met to prepare arguments, to make deals, and to talk business outside of the larger Galactic Senate Building. Still, though you knew this room was meant for business, it felt like a room in a luxury resort: a penthouse, somewhere very wealthy patrons would recreate. A droid carried platters of refreshments and put them in front of you: fares from all sorts of exotic planets, drinks of bright colors, ice in silver bowls. The droid was using small tongs to deliver ice into the glasses of the senators sitting before you.

You knew some of the names—Senators Farr, Harrow, and Grano you had met already. There were a few other senators here, including some you recognized from their involvement in the proposal of the Military Creation Act. Some faces were unfamiliar. Master Obi-Wan was speaking to them, assuring them that plans had been made for their protection. Anakin sat on one side of you, and Henry on the other, next to Master Yuma and Masters Plo and Faer.

"We will patrol all of the floors in pairs, in shifts," Obi-Wan said bracingly, looking around at the senators. You felt out to them through the Force, feeling apprehension, terror. "Our primary objective, of course, will be the safety of all of this building's occupants. However, we are also working to uncover the source behind the attack on Senator Grano." Obi-Wan gestured to the Togruta, who gulped, looking uncomfortable. "We believe our presence here will be necessary until we have more information about this attack."

"Shouldn't we include more Jedi?" asked Senator Harrow, taking a long swig of a drink that was bright green, clinking the ice in his glass. "Perhaps one stationed in each of our apartments?" Senator Harrow reached for a piece of sugared Majji from the table in front of him, eating the squishy sweet noisily and licking his fingers.

"We will recruit more Jedi should that become necessary," Obi-Wan said, regarding the senator with a hint of a humorous expression. "However, we believe our efforts are best divided throughout the building. Rest assured, no less than four Jedi will be on patrol at any given time."

"We will get to the bottom of this," Master Yuma told the senators kindly. "Please, do continue to go about your lives as normal; we will try to infringe upon your comforts of home as little as possible." The senators nodded, and a few pushed back their chairs. Apparently, this was the end of the meeting.

"Do help yourselves," Senator Grano said, gesturing to the food and drink. None of the Jedi had touched the large assortment of finger foods and fine accoutrements in front of them. You looked at your fellows awkwardly. Jedi were not used to being offered such luxurious cuisines, especially not while on assignment.

Master Faer, sensing the awkward moment, reached for a mini Porg-egg quiche, holding it up and smiling to the senator in thanks. He chewed slowly, grinning at you and Henry.

"Well, we've gone over the routes that we will be patrolling," Master Yuma said, turning to face the Jedi. "If anything seems out of sorts, make sure to signal." You nodded along with your fellows. "Even if it's just a feeling," Master Yuma continued, looking directly at you, "even if something seems only out of place, don’t hesitate to call for backup." You nodded again, wondering why Master Yuma seemed so on edge.

"Henry, you and Y/N can take the south side of the building," Master Faer suggested. Henry smiled at you, a gesture you returned, if slightly reluctantly. The joy within Henry's Force presence puzzled you. It had been there before, you reasoned, the last time you'd seen him. You yourself had been overjoyed at that reunion, to see someone you had known for so long, and cared for as if he were your own family. Still, there was an added layer to Henry's joy now, or perhaps multiple added layers. You were beginning to wonder if your new skills in the Force were adding more to your sight—if you were able to read more in others' presences, now, than you had been able to sense previously. This increased sight only made you feel more confused. People, you thought, were very complex, and their emotions even more so. The proof of this was sitting to your other side. What you read in Anakin now was so much, you couldn't begin to decipher individual feelings. It was as if a dark, ominous cloud had occupied your friend, and that cloud contained every emotion named through language, plus other emotions without words to describe them. All of this was making your head hurt.

"I will patrol the north side," Master Yuma agreed, "with you, Anakin. Obi-Wan, I must insist, for the love of gods, that you go to sleep." You bit your lip over your snicker. Your affection for Master Obi-Wan was growing all the time, the fatherly figure you'd known in your youth becoming more of a mentor, more of a companion to you. You looked at him now and saw the dark circles under his light eyes. Master Yuma's candor was comical, but she was right. This man needed some sleep.

"Very well," Obi-Wan said with a small smile, standing up. You followed suit, as did Henry, who was watching you. You looked at Anakin, who was standing up on your other side, closer to the door. He met your gaze, and you couldn't help but notice how his eyelashes caught the light streaming in through the windows, the blue of his eyes seeming to bleed out into the rest of the world. Your breath paused, just for a moment. Anakin's eyebrows furrowed slightly, and you felt in his presence a pleading. You scrunched your face, confused by this. Anakin's unspoken plea only grew stronger within him as he looked into your eyes. You had to force yourself to look away.

***

It was odd—you and Henry, to your memory, had always gotten along so easily. Now, however, as you walked the patrol route with him through the halls of the senate building, you found there was an awkwardness that hadn't been there before. You didn't know what to say to him, after all these years. You remembered being a new youngling and climbing all over him in the courtyard, him passively letting you use him as a jungle gym; you remembered him stooping to look you in the eye, after Dallum or Yumi had been teasing you, your eyes wet with tears; you remembered running to hug him when you'd reunited on Muunilinst a few years ago. It took you a moment to realize that you weren't recalling these memories of your own accord: it was Henry who was thinking of these things, as he strolled next to you, and you were reading the memories through him. You shook your head quickly. It scared you, that you could mistake other's emotional impressions for your own. You didn't want the emotions of others to bleed into yours, though you knew that a degree of this was normal. Still, you recalled your Force presence into yourself, putting a guard around it, keeping your own thoughts and feelings locked up. You felt these memories fade from Henry's mind, too, and turned to look at him, as his brow creased.

"You seem different, Y/N," Henry said, looking at you with a complicated expression. You forced a casual smile.

"You said that last time, too, remember?" you noted. Henry returned your smile affectionately. You wondered if you should call him Master, now that his rank had increased to Knight. You crinkled your nose at the thought.

"You do look different. But I meant internally," Henry said, placing his hand on his chest, as if to indicate something deeper. Henry looked ahead, walking forward through the curved hallway of the eighth floor. "I sense something in you that wasn't there before. A troubled feeling," Henry continued, his voice quieting, a shyness taking over his features. "Being in your presence feels heavier than it used to. Maybe that happens to all of us, as we grow up." Henry shrugged.

"I guess I do feel different," you answered, pondering this. "So much has changed, Henry. Things don't feel the way they used to. The Republic—"

"The Republic has stood for thousands of years," Henry said calmly. "This conflict will settle itself soon." Henry paused, looking down at his hand as it swung with the motion of his walk, next to yours. "But enough politics," Henry continued. "What about you? What has changed in your life?"

This seemed a loaded question, though you weren't sure what Henry meant by this. You decided to answer honestly.

"I have gained a greater sense of control over my Force abilities," you said quietly, never sure of how to phrase your words when talking about your own power. "I'm able to read a lot more in others, than I used to. I too can manipulate how others read me—I can place emotional impressions into the minds of others, or withdraw my own Force presence, if I wish." You sighed. Your thoughts turned to Anakin, to the complexity you had read in him, a complexity mirrored, albeit more faintly, in the young man walking with you now.

"I never thought before about how much of a burden it would be," Henry said gently, looking at you, "to have to reckon with the emotional landscapes of others, as well as your own." Henry's eyes were shining, you saw. A deep affection emanated from his presence in the Force. "That must be very difficult."

"I believe my ability was given to me for a reason," you explained quietly, moving your hand in a subtle gesture. "The Force works in mysterious ways. And yet, lately I feel overwhelmed." You felt your face getting hot; you had not admitted these feelings even to Master Yuma. "It's almost...dizzying, to read so many layers of emotion in another person. I feel I never know how to respond correctly. I worry about making the wrong move, about making a mistake—" You cut yourself off, not knowing exactly how to say what you were feeling. You pushed your thoughts away from Anakin, trying to remain in the present. Henry stopped walking and put his hand on your arm, softly.

"The knowledge of others' feelings would be heavy load to carry," Henry said, and you felt in his own presence a sense of remorse, of care. "I wish—" Henry paused, anxiety crossing his usually calm features, "I wish I could lessen that load, for you." You felt a complicated guilt enter Henry's aura, and shook your head quickly.

"It is not a bad thing," you explained, giving Henry a rye smile. "Emotions are tools that give us all of the best parts of being alive. Compassion, care for others, pleasure." Henry smiled back at you, his head tilted curiously. "To have many emotions crossing through my head at once—sometimes I get confused," you laughed. "It is an overwhelming experience, but it is not bad. Never bad." You stood, looking up at Henry, a small smile on your lips. The moment grew in length, and you felt yourself take in your breath.

"Y/N," Henry said slowly, keeping his eyes on yours, "I want you to know that I really admire you. Your spirit, your thoughtfulness..." Henry blushed, looking down at his feet, and then back up at you. "When we were growing up, how hard everyone was on you...the way you absorbed their criticisms, their spitefulness, but never let it enter your own essence, never let it turn you cruel." You held your breath, Henry's honesty making you feel warm. "You are an extraordinary person, and..." Henry breathed slowly, his own cheeks growing pink. "And I just want you to know."

You didn't know how to respond to this. You stood, in the middle of the hallway, staring at Henry, watching his face. You couldn't help but smile, looking at him, feeling his gladness. Still, a part of you felt pulled, your stomach moving uncomfortably. It was as if your heart could not be fully present in the moment, because something was pulling it elsewhere—as if it were tied to a string, a string that's other end stretched away from where you were now, and away from who you were with.

"We should continue," Henry said after a moment, looking timidly back at the hallway. "Along the route." You nodded, coming back to yourself. Both of you started again to walk.

"Thank you for saying that," you said quietly, looking in front of you. "I—I admire you too Henry. Quite a lot." You stepped into the lift to go up a floor, and Henry followed you.

"That's nice to know," he said, grinning at the buttons in the lift, his joy coming out of his presence and wrapping itself around you both as you ascended.

***

Anakin walked with Master Yuma across the second floor of the senate building, completely at war with himself.

He knew that he was not going to allow himself to lash out at you, not ever again. He would not shout at you about Henry, he would not shout at you to get away from him the way he had done after his nightmare—he would never shout at you again, as far as he was concerned. He worked to keep his face calm on the outside, but inside of him there roared a mighty squall, a meteor shower so intense it could have taken out a whole fleet. That you were currently alone with Henry, walking these same floors...that Henry had looked at you as if you were the answer to his meditations, as if you were everything that mattered in the world—

Anakin felt his jaw clench as he walked, trying to push these thoughts out of his mind. He knew, in his very core, that Henry's feelings for you, whether real or imagined, were not for him to deflect. You were the one whose feelings mattered here. If you had feelings for Henry, then Anakin would not be the one to ruin it for you. Anakin's stomach sank at the very thought. The squall inside of him churned, and his anger at Henry turned into a sadness. Did you feel about Henry the way Anakin felt about you? Did you return the affection Anakin had seen in Henry's eyes, as he'd gazed at you?

Anakin didn't know how you felt. You were so good at hiding your feelings, so good at remaining professional while on assignment, and now that you were able to manipulate your Force presence so fully, your mind seemed an impenetrable fortress. There were moments that Anakin felt like he was able to see through a crack in the foundation—moments where your face showed signs of discomfort, of awkwardness, of fondness, of admiration. Anakin didn't know if these were your true feelings, or if he was reading these onto you, desperate as he was for you to return his affections. And how he wished that you would return his feelings—the thought of you looking at him the way you sometimes did, when your face grew still; the thought of Anakin grabbing onto your Padawan braid, of touching your face; the thought of hugging you again, putting his hands through your hair; the thought of leaning in, of getting to feel your lips against his own...

"Anakin," Master Yuma said gently, in warning. Anakin felt his entire body grow hot. How could he have been so cavalier about his thoughts, in Master Yuma's presence? Anakin felt his embarrassment like it was a tidal wave, knocking him off balance. Though Master Yuma didn't seem to be able to read him quite as easily as you could, Anakin knew she was your Master for a reason, knew that she had some ability in the Force for reading others' thought patterns.

"I'm sorry, Master," Anakin whispered gruffly, looking straight ahead at the wall in front of him as he walked along the hallway.

"I can feel that you are troubled, Anakin," Master Yuma replied calmly. "It might help," she continued, glancing over at him, "for you to talk about what is on your mind." Anakin gulped. He knew the Force wasn't an exact science, but he also knew Master Yuma was being polite, by inviting him to share his thoughts, when she likely already knew much of what plagued him.

"I—" Anakin tried, feeling the emotions moving through him in gusts. "I don't know if I should speak plainly, Master. I fear that my thoughts stray away from the Jedi code."

"The Jedi code is old," Master Yuma said simply, walking with her hands together under the sleeves of her robes. "There are many ways to interpret the sacred Jedi texts. Now tell me, Anakin," she said more forcefully, "what is going on in your head?" Anakin looked at her, taken aback. In some ways, Master Yuma was more diffident than Obi-Wan; in others, she spoke much more plainly.

"I don't know how to express myself in a way that is—in a way that other people will approve of," Anakin said anxiously.

"In a way that Y/N will approve of?" Master Yuma asked, keeping her face impassive. Anakin, again surprised by her candor, nodded.

"I fear she thinks of me as impulsive," Anakin said desperately, moving his arms around him as he cast about for the right words. "I fear she thinks of me in one way...when I wish she would think of me in another."

"Why do you feel you need approval?" Master Yuma asked thoughtfully. "Why not express yourself plainly?" Anakin mulled this over for a moment, confused.

"You mean to say—disregard the code? Simply tell her how I feel?" Anakin looked to Master Yuma, startled.

"As I said," Master Yuma continued, her voice even, "the code is old, and is not easily interpreted. Y/N, too," Master Yuma said, smiling, "with all her wisdom, has trouble expressing herself in certain areas." Master Yuma looked at Anakin, making her meaning plain. "It is possible that it might be to her betterment, to be confronted with your directness, your own ability to express yourself so freely." Anakin gaped at Master Yuma, unable to comprehend the direction this conversation had taken. Yuma was so very different from his own Master.

"I believe in you, Anakin," Master Yuma said gently. "I believe my own Padawan might need someone like you. I only want the best for her, and sometimes, she tends to get in her own way." Master Yuma sighed, and Anakin had the distinct impression that she was conversating with herself, as if she were meditating, and Anakin were simply a bystander. A peculiar look crossed over her face.

"Something has changed," Master Yuma said, her eyes glazing.

"Danger?" Anakin asked, suddenly on alert. His hand hovered over his saber.

"I...I can't be sure," Master Yuma deliberated, taking measured breaths. "Best to signal, to be safe." Master Yuma took out her commlink and tapped out a series of beeps.

***

You stood with Henry on the rooftop of the apartments, the completion of your patrol route. Though Coruscant was metallic, shiny, and new, it had its own kind of beauty, a beauty you had grown fond of. You looked out over the view, remembering the feeling of standing next to Henry, on a very different planet, under very different circ*mstances, in these same positions, leaning against a railing. This time, however, there was an unfamiliar current in the air.

"I've always loved being back on Coruscant," Henry said, biting his lip, looking out at the cityscape.

"It does have a certain charm," you agreed, looking at the sun gleaming on the glass and metal around you.

"It wasn't the city I longed for, while I was away," Henry admitted, turning to look at you. It was subtle, but he brushed his pinky over the top of your hand, where it clasped the railing. "It was you I hoped to see, in these recent years, whenever I returned."

You turned to look at Henry, surprised by this admission, holding your breath as he looked you directly in the eye. You found yourself speechless, your mind emptied of any proper response to this. You continued to look at Henry's face, his brown eyes staring into yours. He was good looking, you thought, with his light skin, his freckles, the way his mouth upturned in a slightly crooked way. His face had aged, but it still had all the softness of when he had been a boy.

"Y/N," Henry said softly, not breaking eye contact, "I—I would very much like to kiss you." He put his hand gently over yours and held it there, moving infinitesimally closer to your face. "May I?" Henry held his position, looking at you with a sudden burst of timidity, watching your face and waiting for your response.

You felt frozen. Henry's question was so direct, so out of left field. You'd never been asked a question like this before. You didn't know what you wanted. You didn’t want to disappoint the young man standing in front of you, with his eager, soft eyes, his kind smile. You felt the strings in your heart wrap around themselves, get tangled, start to strangle you from within. You held your breath, your eyes wide, trying to make some sound come out of your mouth, anything.

A loud beeping noise made both you and Henry jump. It was coming from the comm. You'd only just made out that the signal was from Master Yuma, that she was signaling disturbance, when a small ship appeared out of nowhere, below you, nearly crashing into the building for its speed. The ship shot two peculiar looking missiles into the apartment building, missiles that looked as if they contained something in them.

"Senator Farr's apartment!" you shouted quickly, reaching for your saber, trying to decide how to act. The beeping got louder from your commlink. Master Faer signaled Senator and safe. You looked down at the scene as if it were happening in slow motion, watched as the ship made to pull away from the building, and made a split second decision.

"Y/N, no!" Henry shouted, but it was too late. You had already jumped, free-falling through the air, using the Force to slow your landing as you grabbed hold of a small vent on the top of the ship, holding on for dear life as it flew away.

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Chapter 14: Chapter 14

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Anakin burst into Senator Farr's apartment, followed closely by Master Yuma, their lightsabers lit. Taking in the scene in seconds, Anakin saw that the apartment was a mess of shattered glass and torn apart pieces of wall. Dead assassin probes lay across the floor, many of which looked as if they had been sliced through by a lightsaber. Master Faer stood up straight, holding his saber up over his head and staring at the door. Upon seeing the faces of Anakin and Master Yuma, Master Faer lowered his blade, but only a little. Senator Farr sat against one of the intact walls, seemingly weeping.

"It will be all right," Master Yuma said, striding over to the senator, likely intuiting his emotions. "The danger has passed."

"My...apartment. My things!" the senator wailed. Master Yuma stooped to put a hand on his shoulder, looking back over at Master Faer and Anakin with pursed lips. Anakin watched as Master Faer looked beyond him, back toward the door.

"Henry," Master Faer said, his voice growing cold. "What's happened?"

Anakin whirled around, seeing Henry walking into the apartment, white as a ghost. He was closely followed by Obi-Wan, whom, it seemed, had not been able to get his much needed rest.

"Y/N," Henry said, his voice full of dread. "She's on that ship."

Anakin felt like the floor was dropping out from under him. It was impossible, it seemed, to complete a mission without something happening that made Anakin fear for your life. And every time you were threatened, Anakin felt his feelings for you grow inside of him, as if the thought of you being taken away from him was increasing his love, making it swell. Soon it would no longer fit within his torso, let alone in this room, or on this planet.

"What do you mean, she's on that ship?" Anakin asked, his hands shaking.

"She jumped," Henry said, his eyes shining with anxiety. Anakin felt his fear curdling within him, turning fiery as he watched Henry.

"Why didn't you stop her?" Anakin asked, his voice rising in volume and intensity. He glared at Henry, hating every inch of this person standing in front of him, this young man who was so pale, beautiful, and soft-spoken. Henry glared right back.

"Have you met Y/N? When has anyone been able to stop her from doing anything?" Henry kept his voice steady, but Anakin saw on his face an anger he would have thought beyond this polite Jedi Knight.

"You should have followed her. You should have done something. Now we have no idea where she is, and—" Anakin was so angry his legs were tingling with tiny pinpricks. His hand hovered over his saber at his belt. "And it's your fault."

Henry took a step toward Anakin, looking as if he would like to attack him. Both of their Force presences swelled with an anger so intense, Anakin felt it moving through his entire body, moving outside of him. A few shards of glass on the ground around them started to rumble and shake.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, stepping forward to stand in between Anakin and Henry, looking the former in the face. "Now is not the time. We need to think clearly." Obi-Wan put his hand on his Padawan's chest. Anakin's Master sounded worried, which only added to Anakin's prickling fear.

A beeping noise made everyone in the room jump. Master Yuma looked down at her comm, flashing as it repeated a series of beeps. The beeps echoed on the comms of the other Jedi present. The series of beeps meant "don't signal". Anakin held his breath, waiting for more, but nothing else came.

"It's Y/N," Master Yuma said breathlessly, relief flooding her voice. This message likely meant that you were hiding within earshot of dangerous people. Anakin took deep breaths, trying to quell his anger, to think clearly.

"It means she's all right," Obi-Wan reasoned, turning to Anakin.

"But we have no way of locating her," Anakin said, his jaw setting into a pout, trying to contain his energy. "We can't turn on her locator. It could give her away."

"We have to trust her," Henry said quietly. "She jumped onto that ship for a reason. Maybe she can discover more about these attacks."

"You should have gone with her," Anakin repeated, his pout etched onto his face like it would be there forever. Henry looked back at him, his face melting, anger fading away to worry and dread.

"I know," Henry said quietly.

***

"He isn’t going to be happy," you heard the gravelly voice utter menacingly.

"We weren't told there would be Jedi," the other, more weaselly voice replied, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself of something in addition to convincing his companion.

"That doesn't matter. We're in for it."

"What should we do? We can't go back to Serenno now."

"Hold on," the gravelly voice answered. "I need to think."

You kneeled, keeping as still as possible, inside one of the ship's storage compartments. Your back was starting to grow stiff. You felt the ship moving beneath you, but you knew from the vibrations you'd felt in your hiding place that you couldn't have left Coruscant. You needed to come up with a plan, and fast—you knew you didn't have long before the two men decided to flee, to who knows where, and you didn't want to be their unwilling stowaway as they journeyed as far as the Outer Rim territories. It didn't seem like these men were going to be giving anything more away that would be useful to you. Plus, your back was killing in this position.

As quietly as you could, you waved the compartment door open with your hand, and crawled out of the space. Creeping along the hallway leading to the co*ckpit, you passed by a thin viewport, seeing that you were flying somewhere in Coruscant's underbelly. Great, you thought, formulating your next move in your mind.

Taking a deep breath, you climbed up the walls with your hands and legs, hoisting yourself to hang from the exit hatch on the ceiling of the small ship. Holding your body flat to the ceiling, you used the Force to cause two bins full of supplies in the hull behind you to topple over, resulting in a resounding crash.

Immediately, on cue, both of the men you'd heard burst out of the co*ckpit, guns co*cked. You held your breath, keeping still.

"What was that?" the smaller of the two bounty hunters asked, looking around, pointing his gun at the hull.

"I don't know," the gravelly voiced man said, looking around suspiciously.

"Those crates fell over," the smaller man said, relaxing his posture and lowering his weapon. The larger man hit him.

"We aren't going fast enough for our momentum to knock over crates of that size," the gravelly voiced man said, keeping his gun aloft. Slowly and delicately, you lowered yourself from the hatch, landing softly behind the men.

"Party's over boys," you said coolly, using the Force to cause both men to fly toward the back of the hull. You cringed at the sound of their skulls hitting the wall of the ship, before they crumpled to the floor. You walked over to assess the damage.

They'll be fine, you thought, grabbing onto the smaller man's legs and dragging his unconscious figure into the same storage compartment you had chosen as a hiding place. Once you had stashed his body in the corner, you turned back for the larger man, grabbing hold of him and pushing his huge body into the compartment. As you let go of his arm, you felt the hairs stand up on the back of your neck.

You whirled around as multiple blasts shot by you, one grazing the side of your arm. You let out a cry of pain, drawing your saber through the searing burn you felt. You watched as a bald man with a tattoo in the shape of lightning on the side of his forehead smiled menacingly at you, holding his gun up and firing again. You blocked his shots with your saber.

The man lowered his gun, gritting his teeth, signing to you with his hands in an unspoken language you didn't know. Leaping over him, you slashed the man's arm. Both his gun and a few of his fingers fell to the floor. You were hit with a staggering wave of emotion, dread, fear, and agony, as the man crumpled, holding his hand that you had injured. You felt the man's feelings and found yourself overwhelmed by remorse. You realized why you hadn't heard this man in the co*ckpit. You had just taken away a part of this man's voice.

Looking at him with wide eyes, you stood for a moment, trying to discern your next move. The man angrily lashed out with his other hand, trying to hit you hard in the stomach, but you ducked, rolling to the side. You quickly aimed a well-placed blow to the side of the man's head with your elbow, knocking him out temporarily.

As you lifted the man's body through the Force to store in the compartment with the other bounty hunters, you heard a loud beeping sound fill the ship, feeling the engine whirring uncertainly beneath you.

Why, you thought, does everything always have to go wrong? You locked the unconscious bounty hunters together in the storage compartment, turning to see the blaster holes on the floor of the hull beneath you revealing burnt wires and broken ship parts. The ship shook underneath your feet as you raced for the co*ckpit.

***

Anakin stood on the transport next to Obi-Wan. If he could, he would be pacing the length of the vehicle, but as the large speeder was currently racing through Coruscanti traffic, he knew it was best to keep still. Inside him, though, sounded a cacophony of feelings. He was angry, he was terrified, but most of all, he wanted you back beside him, safe from harm's way, surrounded by those who would be able to protect you. Obi-Wan, Yuma, Anakin and Henry were on their way to address the attack with the council, while Masters Faer and Plo were staying behind to protect the senators. Obi-Wan had assured Anakin that he would speak to the council about an effort to retrieve you. Anakin ran through the options in his head as if it were his mind racing across Coruscant instead of the speeder—could the attackers have discovered your presence? Could they have taken you off world? Or worse—could they have harmed you?

I will hunt them down, Anakin thought darkly, his fear invading his entire presence, and kill them myself. Anakin felt a hand move to his upper back, a gentle gesture, and he felt Master Yuma stroke his shoulder discreetly with her thumb. Anakin immediately felt remorseful, confronting his murderous thoughts. Still, he couldn't rid his mind of this darkness, this anger at those who would wish to harm you. It wasn't that he didn't think you were capable—it was that he knew you had too much empathy for your own good, knew that you always chose not to kill if you didn't have to. You constantly hesitated, trying to assess the feelings and intentions behind your attackers, and this made you vulnerable.

And yet, it was these qualities in you that Anakin admired so fervently. You possessed an ability to care in situations where he found himself unable to—it wasn't that Anakin wanted you to change the way you were. But you needed him there beside you, to deal the blows you couldn't stomach, to make the difficult decisions necessary of a warrior. You and Anakin made an excellent team, but without him, you might endanger yourself. Anakin felt his face growing hot with anger, anticipation. He would find a way to reunite with you. No matter what happened, no matter where in the galaxy you were, Anakin would always find you.

The beeping startled and thrilled him. Anakin pulled out his comm in a flash, as did the other knights.

"Anyone copy?" Anakin flushed with happiness at the sound of your voice coming out of the comm. He felt tears roll down his cheeks, but he didn't care if anyone saw.

"Y/N," was all Anakin was able to manage, pressing the button on the comm. You were all right. You were okay.

"I'm in a bit of a situation," he heard your voice say through the comm, and Anakin's relief soured into unease. Anakin felt it before it appeared, a disturbance in the traffic, the Force around him moving as if electrified. He turned to look out the window of the transport, seeing a ship flying through the air, with the back part of its engine on fire.

"She's flying the ship?" Master Yuma asked, looking horrified.

"No," Henry said, his voice rising with terror. "She's crashing the ship."

Anakin's brain turned on at light speed. Springing immediately to action, Anakin ran forward through the transport, smashing the button to open the door.

"Fly higher," he shouted to the pilot, who looked alarmed, "that way." The pilot did as Anakin instructed, turning and rising into the air above the ship on fire.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan yelled from the other end of the transport, the rushing wind from the open door making it difficult to hear. "Think before you act. This is not—"

But it was too late. Anakin had already jumped from the transport, falling with his arms out to graze the top of the crashing ship. He bumped against the ship's top, sliding down the side, grabbing onto the upper hatch just in time as the ship fell even lower, picking up speed. He used his other hand to open the hatch, quickly and adeptly pulling himself inside.

Anakin couldn't help but smile amidst the chaos, the fire, and the sounds of the ship breaking apart as he saw your figure in the co*ckpit, pulling up hard on the ship's controls. Your hair was flying everywhere, your face looking as if you'd been caught mid-shriek. Anakin hurried forward into the co*ckpit. You acknowledged his presence, through the Force, without looking back. Anakin felt your warmth, and his grin intensified.

"How," Anakin said, sliding you out of your seat and taking the controls in his hands, "are you so good at fighting and so bad at flying?"

"It wasn't my fault!" you said angrily. "One of the bounty hunters shot a bunch of holes in the ship, and I could barely get it to upper Coruscant."

"Bounty hunters?" Anakin asked, his fear and anxiety having faded fully now that you were back in his presence. It was as if the two of you were walking the grounds of the Temple together, your usual banter casual, normal.

"I took care of them," you said airly, waving your hand and pressing the controls to lower the landing gear. "There," you said, indicating a large and empty landing pad ahead of you. "It's our only shot."

"You certainly know how to make an entrance, flea," Anakin said, pulling up hard on the ship's controls. Anakin saw you brace yourself, and he coaxed the ship slower, working with the machinery, feeling the ship move through the air around him. Flying, like many things, came easily to him. In the moments before the ship touched down, Anakin looked over to you, feeling time slow along with the ship. Your hair moving around your face made Anakin stop breathing. Even now, in this fiery crash, Anakin was fully content. You were here with him.

"URGH," you emitted as the ship banged onto the landing pad, sliding across it as the landing gears broke off. Anakin felt out with the Force, making sure the ship would stop in time, before it reached the edge. Slowly but surely, the small ship grinded to a halt. Anakin heard a muffled gasp of pain coming from one of the storage compartments behind him.

"So, about those bounty hunters..." Anakin asked, turning to you. He felt his face fall at noticing the blaster wound on your arm.

"They're locked up, don't worry," you said, letting your face relax a little as you took your hands off the ship's controls, where they had been clenched. "They let slip a few useful details, about the attacks on the senators." A hint of co*ckiness entered your voice. "I'm sure the council will be interested to hear about it." You raised your face in the air with superiority, making Anakin laugh.

"I'm sure they will be," Anakin said softly, reaching forward tentatively to brush a few strands of hair out of your face. You froze, looking at him, neither of you breathing.

"Are you two alive?" Obi-Wan asked through the comm, his voice sounding as if he were trying to mask his fear with sarcasm.

"Affirmative," Anakin responded, beaming at you and lowering his hand.

***

You walked through the hallways of the Temple quickly. You had just faced the council and recounted what you had heard from the bounty hunters aboard their ship. They were focused on someone, you had said, someone being angry with them. They were afraid to return to him on Serenno. At Master Yuma's request, the council had agreed to reassign you, your Master, and Anakin and Obi-Wan to Serenno to see what you might be able to uncover. But there was someone you needed to speak with, before you left. Nervousness caused your movements to be quick, your steps moving faster that you intended as you walked with determination. You knew that as much as you wanted to avoid having this conversation, you needed to do it now, before you lost your nerve—before the issue was given time to fester, to become bigger, and worse. You knew confronting him now was the only option.

"Y/N," you heard a soft voice call from behind you, as you strolled through the courtyard gardens. You turned, recognizing the presence, your body filling with dread.

"Henry," you said, your cheeks growing pink as you took him in. How much affection you felt for this person—how much you didn't want to say what you had prepared yourself to say.

"Looking for me?" Henry asked, his own cheeks turning pink, his eyes soft with worry. He reached up to graze your blaster wound on your arm, which had been haphazardly bandaged.

"Maybe," you replied, looking away from him, at the voluminous leaves hanging from a large plant that towered over you.

"Can we sit?" Henry asked, and you nodded, still looking away from him. The edge of the large planter was hard, and you perched on it, discomfort filling your body.

"Y/N, about before," Henry said, and you turned back to look at him. His face was anxious. You wanted to comfort him, and also, you wanted to run from the courtyard. Instead, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself, sitting up straight and looking him in the eye. "I worry I need to apologize," Henry continued. "About what happened, before you jumped—I wanted you to know how I feel, but I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, or pressured. I shouldn't have been so forward. I got carried away." Henry wrung his hands on his lap, looking down. "I'm sorry."

You swallowed. The words bubbled inside of you, but you were afraid of setting them free, afraid of the consequences of letting them out into the air.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," you said, watching him, your face crumpling. "Henry, you mean so much to me. I admire you so much. But it...it isn't in the way you want me to." You heaved a heavy breath. Though saying the words was hard, this speech unlocked something inside of you—a door you had previously kept bolted shut. Though telling the truth about your own feelings was hard, it also felt freeing, as if you were lighter than you had been a moment ago. You looked at Henry, trying to hold back your tears. "I don't want to ever make you feel—"

Henry placed a hand on your uninjured arm, and held his other hand in the air, trying to cut you off.

"Please don't apologize to me, Y/N. I'm the one who overstepped my bounds." He pulled a small smile onto his face. "I care about you, too."

You sat next to him, the silence turning awkward.

"I don't...I don't know how to feel those kind of feelings," you forced out, feeling embarrassed, your face growing hot. Henry smiled, looking down and shaking his head. You'd seen him do this before, you remembered. Your cheeks felt even hotter.

"I think you might," Henry said, smiling at the ground. You felt a slight bitterness in his Force presence, but that bitterness was clouded over by his good feelings—his admiration, his humility, his empathy for you. "Or, at least," Henry laughed, "you'll figure it out."

***

You sat on the cold hard flight bench, leaning your head back against the cool interior wall of the ship, closing your eyes. It had been a very long, trying day. You felt the thoughts, worries, and anxieties moving through you. Your stomach turned. Some emotions were too difficult to face.

You sighed, sitting up and rubbing your forehead.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?" Anakin asked, and you looked up into his blue eyes. You were on your way to Serenno, your Masters in the co*ckpit. Anakin sat across from you, his Force presence betraying nothing but sincerity, no hint of anger or malice. You preferred him this way. Anakin was so easily incensed, so easily set off, that most people didn't realize who he really was, at his core. But you knew.

"It's nothing," you said, looking away. Anakin was the last person you wanted to have this conversation with.

"It's not," Anakin said defiantly, and you looked back at him. Though he was always direct, he was usually more deferential with you. You gave him a funny look. "I know you took on three bounty hunters singlehandedly, gathered their intel, arrested them, took blaster fire, and crashed a ship all in the span of a few hours," Anakin said, his tone slightly mocking, "but it's something else." Anakin leaned forward on the flight bench across from yours. "You can tell me."

Anakin's eyes were so imploring, you realized you were beginning to have a hard time refusing them. You didn't know how to explain it in words. You sighed again, closing your eyes, pushing a certain memory out of yourself with the Force, planting the impression in Anakin's mind. You felt it again as you projected it—looking out over Coruscant, Henry leaning toward you, his hand on yours on the railing, asking you that question that made your whole body freeze up. You pushed these impressions outward. Though this method wasn't foolproof, it would make sure Anakin got the necessary details. You heard his sharp intake of breath, felt his Force presence moving dangerously, jealousy, fear, anger, and something even darker passing through him.

“What did you say?” Anakin asked, his voice shaking.

“I told him no." You felt yourself shaking along with Anakin, your Force presence converging with his. You pretended you didn’t feel it, but it was as if the ship itself had swelled in size, rocked by Anakin’s burst of feeling at your words. His joy radiated through your bones, through everything your fingers could touch. His emotions were so overwhelming in the Force that they almost pushed Henry from your mind completely. The intensity of Anakin’s elation threatened to take you over, and you had to fight to stay in your own head, in your own feelings.

“Why?” Anakin asked sincerely. "Why did you tell him no?"

“It’s…it’s not the Jedi way.” You spoke these words stoically, looking down at your hands, but even as you did, you knew you were lying. Anakin seemed to sense the uncertainty in your words, but he didn’t push you to explain. Though he sat on the edge of his seat, watching you closely, he said nothing, and this silence—this show of patience, and perhaps empathy—felt out of character for him. Perhaps Master Yuma was right. Perhaps Anakin was growing up.

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Chapter 15: Chapter 15

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Serenno was one of those planets with a confusing and complicated political history. Your ship had landed on the outskirts of Carannia, the capital city, and though you tried to keep your tired eyes on the history overview on the holopad during the relatively short journey from Coruscant, you struggled to take it all in. Houses? Counts? The political structure of this place was as confusing as the political structure of Mandalore. You had been immediately distracted from your reading when the ship came out of hyperspace and began to enter Serenno's atmosphere. For all its confusing history, Serenno was...beautiful. There was no other word for it. You saw the lush forests and mountain ranges, the green of the tree canopies, and, beyond the capital, a vast ocean, shining in the sun like the light of the stars. You were enraptured.

Master Yuma and Master Obi-Wan had decided to land near the outskirts so as to not announce your presence to the capital at large.

"But if the ruler of Serenno was once a Jedi," you asked, "why the secrecy? Why not consult him on this matter?"

"We plan to pay Count Dooku a visit," Master Yuma responded, "but only after we have gathered information from the lower, less reputable parts of Carannian society."

"You'll find," Master Obi-Wan said with a chuckle, "that the best place to sniff out a rat is the sewer."

Thus, Master Yuma and Master Obi-Wan had taken off through the jungle to visit the slums of Carannia, heavily disguised in dark cloaks that did not give away their true identity. You and Anakin had donned similar clothing, and with instructions to head the other direction, looping across the forest and toward the marketplace in the center of town, you had set off. The cloak you wore was warm and comfortable, and you pushed away your tiredness as you walked through the forest, pushing aside vines and ferns as you passed them. It was common for Jedi to go from assignment to assignment, and sleep was a luxury stolen when possible, not a right. However, quite a lot had happened since you'd last been able to rest—you breathed slowly, in and out of your mouth, using your momentum to keep you going.

"You look awful, flea," Anakin said cheerfully, walking next to you and jumping ahead to pull a branch out of your path.

"Ha, ha," you responded dryly, too tired to come up with a good comeback.

"You know, you're no use to the Order dead on your feet," Anakin responded, just as merrily. It seemed his good mood from your earlier conversation about Henry still permeated his thoughts. You glanced at his face, and stifled a laugh. His Force presence might as well be whistling.

"Well, when duty calls..." you responded, yawning. You waved your hand dismissively to finish your sentence.

"Yawn in the face of danger," Anakin finished for you, grinning with his tongue poking through his teeth. You rolled your eyes.

The two of you broke through the edge of the tree line, facing the outskirts of the large city. You quickly crossed the grassy gap and drew your hoods, darting across streets and between the smaller dwellings on the edge of the capital. The buildings here were cylindrical, which created an odd contrast to the natural forests and mountains surrounding the city. The architecture was harsh, geometric, and contained—the nature was expansive, complex.

"The market should be just ahead," Anakin said quietly, pointing ahead of him to a gap in the side streets. You felt, rather than heard, the hum of people moving around, speaking in different tongues, bartering over goods. You and Anakin were meant to observe quietly, to overhear, to glean information without being present, to hide in plain sight. The market would be a perfect place to do so, but, you realized, wearing hoods and oversized dark robes would clash highly with the atmosphere of the market, in which many people wore plain clothing, in lighter fabrics, the sun shining down on them.

"Wait—" you said quickly, putting your hand across Anakin's chest to stop him from stepping out of the alleyway and entering the brightly lit market.

"What?" Anakin asked quietly, looking around.

"Think about it. Take in your surroundings," you said patiently. You knew that blending in was not Anakin's strong suit, knew that he would prefer to enter the market with his lightsaber held high, demanding answers from the passerby. "If we go out there like this, we'll stick out like sore thumbs."

Anakin watched the people walking by for a moment, looking down at your disguises and putting two and two together.

"Fine," Anakin said amicably, grabbing onto the shoulders of your robe and pulling it off you before shrugging out of his own. You tugged your tunic out of your Jedi belt, which would surely give you away, sashing your saber in your boot. Anakin did the same. Using the Force, you pulled, carefully, a large brick out of the wall of the alleyway. You stashed your robes and your belts in the hole left, pushing them far back into the wall so that they would not be seen.

"We look casual enough," Anakin said, looking you up and down with a smile. "But you've forgotten something."

"What?" you asked, looking up into Anakin's tanned face, his blue eyes sparkling against his skin. Anakin reached forward and smiled, tugging lightly on your Padawan braid. Oh. You couldn't walk into the market with your braids swinging obviously, a conspicuous mark of the Jedi Order. Anakin peered out from the alleyway in which you stood, pointing to a cart near you, a cart selling colorful headscarves. You watched the shoppers in the market, saw that many of them had colorful head coverings.

"Good thinking," you told Anakin, using the Force to quickly summon two of the scarves away from the cart. You wrapped Anakin's around his head, trying to ignore the immense smugness coming from his presence, then worked your own scarf around your hair. Now fully disguised, you and Anakin stepped out into the market, you dropping a few credits swiftly onto the cart as you passed. Anakin grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours.

"Anakin..." you said, trying to pull your hand away.

"It'll look much more natural this way," Anakin responded, grinning, his grip on your hand firm. "We're a couple out on a stroll through the market. No one will look twice at us."

"Fine," you said, turning away to hide your blush. Anakin's hand was big and warm as it enclosed yours, but the feel of it made your insides feel squirm. You looked straight ahead as you walked out into the market with him, your joined hands swinging slightly. The more you half-heartedly pushed Anakin away, the less he seemed to believe your rebuffs. You worried, almost, that Anakin might be able to read your true feelings, the way you were able to read his. You blushed further at the thought. You were beginning to feel lightheaded.

Anakin glanced at you, then pulled you in the direction of a fruit stand. He waved a few credits at the man, dropping them on the counter, and then picked up a couple meiloorun fruits. He held one out to you, his face downturned, his eyes looking into yours with an intensity that made you hold your breath.

"We're not here to eat fruit," you whispered quietly.

"You look like you need a pick-me-up," Anakin whispered back, stepping closer to you and putting the fruit in your hand. "Plus, it's a very natural thing to do at a market." You took the fruit, nodding, feeling your legs quiver as you made eye contact with him. Anakin's eyes really were so blue.

You leaned against the wall and peeled the fruit, slowly, juice sliding down your hands. You took a bite and groaned. The fruit was so sweet.

"Good?" Anakin laughed, watching you devour the fruit, juice sliding down your face.

"Excellent," you responded, wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your tunic. The sugar from the fruit gave you a bit of energy, allowed you to open your eyes a bit wider, tired as you were.

"I told you, I'm not interested," a boy in the alleyway near you said, seeming like his voice was coming out louder than he intended in his anger.

"We need the credits, Jarin," another boy responded, his voice pleading.

"If you two are done arguing," a girl said, sounding impatient, "he's waiting for us."

You continued leaning against the wall, throwing the carcass of your fruit to the ground. You didn't turn, but you reached out for Anakin's hand as he stood near you, squeezing it. He squeezed back, affirming that he too was listening to the conversation happening in the alleyway.

"I'm not doing it," Jarin said again, and you felt out for his Force presence, sensing in him a great amount of fear. You crinkled your eyebrows.

"You talk as if you have a choice," the girl said, her voice sounding threatening, as she let out a shrill laugh. "You act as if you have anywhere else to go."

"If we do this job," the second boy responded, "we could leave Serenno. Make a life somewhere else." You felt a hopeful despair behind this boy's words, in his Force presence.

Leave Serenno? As far as you knew, this was a fairly wealthy system, with a surplus of resources. Why would these young people be so desperate to leave? And what job was Jarin so afraid of taking?

"Hey, love birds," you heard the girl yell in your direction, and you saw Anakin step in front of you, looking over your shoulder into the alley. "I know you're listening."

You turned and faced the group, seeing that the boys were about Anakin's age. The girl, or young woman, it seemed, looked to be a few years older than you.

"Don't be afraid," the girl said, her voice menacing. "Are you looking for work? Come closer."

You felt a swell of protectiveness in Anakin, and you gripped his arm, squeezing in warning. He mustn't let his temper get in the way in this interaction. These might be the 'rats' Obi-Wan had been talking about—and you knew the purpose of this mission was to gather information.

You and Anakin walked slowly toward the group. In the shade of the alley, you saw the two boys cowering before this young woman, who stood straight, looking you and Anakin over.

"Oh, but you aren't afraid," the girl said, appraising the two of you. "It seems I misjudged you. You," the girl turned to Anakin, "you look strong. I've got a job you might be interested in. Lots of credits on the line." The girl turned away from Anakin and looked you in the eye. You saw that her irises were purple, her face set in a permanent glare. "Oh," the young woman said, leaning in to meet your gaze, "but you have more to offer, don't you, pipsqueak? I can see everything." The girl began to walk around you, and you turned, so as not to allow her your back. "You're the one they have to watch out for, aren't you?" The girl's voice was mocking, but there was something almost like Force command in it. This confused you. Was this young woman—or whatever she was—Force sensitive? If she was, why was she not identified as a youngling?

"Step away from her," Anakin said quietly, darkly, pulling you closer to his side. "We come as a pair. What is this job you mentioned?"

"A simple...extraction," the girl responded, turning back to Anakin, her voice casual. You felt in her Force presence that she was lying. You felt behind her words an intent to kill.

"I see," Anakin said, his voice just as casual. "And why all the secrecy? Who are we working for, here?" The girl laughed.

"That's need to know," the girl said, smiling wickedly at Anakin.

"Right, and I need to know who I'm working for, if I'm going to be...extracting, or, whatever it is you'll have me doing," Anakin said. You felt in his voice a strong Force command, but it didn't seem to be working on this young woman, who certainly was not weak-minded.

"Watch yourself, pretty boy," the girl said, stepping forward to look Anakin straight in the face. You saw that she was as tall as he was. "If you want the credits, you do as I say. You don't want to cross me." You felt the Force building between the two of them, felt Anakin's intention before he enacted it, and knew that the girl with the violet eyes was ready to strike. The boys behind her looked afraid.

"Don't I?" Anakin asked, smiling serenely, and in a quick flash, you saw the girl draw a blaster adeptly. But you were quicker. Your hand was in your boot, drawing your lightsaber faster than the girl could pull the trigger. You blocked the blasts she aimed at Anakin's heart swiftly, and Anakin stood tall, not even reaching for his saber. He'd known that you would block her blasts.

"Jedi scum!" the young woman said, looking enraged, backing away, firing blasts at the both you, blasts that you blocked easily. "Run!" she yelled to the boys as she turned and sprinted down the alleyway.

"Wait just a moment," you said, hopping into the air in a flip, landing on the other side of the two boys. You and Anakin, who had pulled his own lightsaber out of his boot, had them cornered.

"Don't hurt us!" Jarin said, putting his hands out on his sides to try to block the other boy from the two of you. Jarin and the boy backed against the wall. You turned off your lightsaber.

"We won't hurt you," you responded, calmly. "But we need you to tell us everything you know about the job you just turned down."

"We can't!" Jarin said miserably. "He'll have us killed!"

"We can arrange safe passage for you off Serenno," you said kindly, but firmly, keeping your gaze on the two boys, "if you wish. But you need to tell us what you know."

Anakin stepped forward, his lightsaber still raised. You put out a hand, making sure he kept back from the two teenage boys, the one cowering behind the other. You felt their fear. You felt their intentions to be pure. There was no need to threaten them.

"Is that your brother?" you asked softly, reading Jarin through the Force. Jarin looked back at his companion, and then to you again, looking frightened. "I can tell you two have been on your own for quite some time," you said, using your calm to try to put Jarin more at ease. "We can help you. But you have to help us."

"There's a man called Tyrannus," the younger boy behind Jarin spoke up, his voice shaking. Jarin looked back at him, startled. "The job wasn't an extraction. It was an assassination."

"Tyrannus?" Anakin asked, finally turning off his lightsaber.

"An assassination? Of whom?" you asked the younger boy urgently.

"A senator," Jarin answered, looking between you and Anakin.

***

Anakin opened the ramp of the ship, stepping on while you followed. You both had instructed Jarin and his brother to meet you at the space port the following day, and to stay hidden until then. After retrieving your hidden cloaks and belts, Anakin and you had made your way back through the forest to the ship.

"We'll need to signal to Master Yuma and Obi-Wan," Anakin said, walking forward to the co*ckpit. He pressed the button to call your masters.

"Mhmm," you said, following him, wobbling a little on your feet. Anakin turned quickly, reaching a hand out to steady you.

"Y/N," Anakin said, feeling your pulse in your arm as he held you. "You need to sleep. It's becoming a hazard." Anakin's voice conveyed nothing but playful sarcasm, but inside he felt many things, starting and ending with a deep affection. He smiled as he watched you, your eyes half open.

"I suppose you're right," you said feebly, wandering over to the flight couch. Anakin pressed the comm button in the co*ckpit again, but got no response.

"You must be tired," Anakin said, laughing, "that's the first time I've ever heard you say those words." Anakin followed you out of the co*ckpit.

"And it'll be the last," you mumbled, sitting down and putting your head back.

"That I believe," Anakin said, sitting next to you, pulling out his comm and signaling to your Masters with beeps. "I told them we're back at the ship, that we have information, and to reconvene when they can," Anakin informed you. When you didn't respond, Anakin looked around, and stifled a laugh. You were asleep, that much was clear, leaning back in a seated position, your mouth hanging open, with small snoring sounds exiting your nose as you breathed in.

"Little flea," Anakin sighed, watching you. He wondered, briefly, if this was an intrusion—watching you while you had no ability to object—but, he reasoned, you had also watched him in his sleep, had even entered his nightmares with him, through the Force. At times, Anakin wished he had your abilities. Now, for instance, he wished he could read your emotions, could read what you were dreaming about, thinking about. He desperately wanted to know about your feelings, even if he didn't like the answers to his questions. Anakin was struggling to keep his thoughts inside of him, and knowing, either way, felt like it would release something in him that desperately needed to be released.

He couldn't help himself. He loved you so much. He had since he was a boy, and though his feelings had changed, of course, there was still a part of him that was nine years old, watching you walk up to him in the Jedi temple. The admiration he had felt that day had never left him; it had simply grown, and other feelings had entered his presence, feelings he himself was still struggling to understand. All he knew was that he needed to be near you, always, needed to make sure you were safe, needed to hear your laugh, needed to listen to your teasing. He needed to feel your presence, needed to watch as your hair blew wildly in every direction, needed to see your smile, needed to watch as your cheeks reddened when you were angry or embarrassed. As much as he needed to be near you, Anakin felt, he was also suffering in your presence. That he was not able to have all of you was agonizing to him; that he was not able to reach out now, for instance, and touch your cheek in your sleep. That he was not able to hold you close to him, to feel your heart beat against his. That he was not able to kiss your entire face, your entire self. As much as he desperately wanted to do these things, what he wanted most was for you to want him the way he wanted you. He wanted to make you happy with his love. He wanted you to love him, so that he could give to you all of what was inside him.

You snored a bit more loudly, grunting in your sleep, and your head fell to the side, resting on Anakin's shoulder. Anakin's insides jumped with joy. He kept very still, your sleeping head leaning against him. He felt the heat of your cheek against his shoulder, through his tunic. There were times when it seemed certain to Anakin that you returned his feelings. That you had turned down Henry's advances surely meant something, did it not? And the way you interacted with him—it was like if he smiled, you smiled. If he was sad and upset, you were sad and upset. The two of you were in sync in a way that could only be explained by love. Right?

But what if that love you felt for him was nothing more than friendly admiration? It was clear to Anakin that you cared for him, but what if you regarded him as nothing more than a good friend, or even a brotherly figure, the way you had said you regarded Henry? What if the admiration you felt for him was more akin to the admiration you felt for Master Yuma, or Obi-Wan, other members of the Jedi Order you'd grown close to as your family?

If you didn't return Anakin's feelings—if you didn't want the kind of relationship Anakin desperately wanted—would Anakin be able to suffer, silently, in your presence, for the rest of both of your lives? What would be the alternative? Leaving your side—not being with you at all?

Anakin's insides churned uncomfortably. These unanswered questions haunted him, but he sensed in himself that you and him were coming to a crossroads. He sensed your relationship couldn't remain in this state of waiting forever. Something had to change soon. Something would break. But what would come next?

Anakin struggled to breathe as he thought over this uncertain future. He looked down at your head, as it rested on his shoulder. He couldn't lose you. He wouldn't. But how to earn your love? How to prove to you that he was worthy? What more could he do? Anakin didn't know. But he did know that he wanted to declare himself, as Henry had done, but better, with better words, with more love. You needed to know. It was time. He had to tell you how he felt. He couldn't keep it in any longer.

***

Waking up, you still felt tired. There was a stiffness in your back and neck, and you yawned, opening your eyes, realizing that you had been sleeping on someone's shoulder. Anakin's shoulder.

You blushed, sitting up straight, trying to stretch out your upper back.

"Mornin'," Anakin said, his charming smile right next to your face as you turned to look at him, bleary-eyed.

"How long was I out?" you asked, rubbing your eyes, sighing.

"A good few hours," Anakin replied, his Force presence betraying a hint of nervousness. This confused you.

"Did Master Obi-Wan and Master Yuma—"

"Not yet," Anakin responded, pointing to the comm he'd put on the flight table. You nodded, slowly coming to your senses. Anakin stood up, heading to the small flight kitchen on the other side of the hull. After a moment, you smelled caf brewing. It was a comforting sound, listening to the caf maker bubble.

"Thanks," you said gratefully when Anakin came back over to you, handing you a cup of the hot beverage. You drank it quickly, wanting it to give you alertness, even though it gave you the slightest burn in your throat. You and Anakin sat quietly for a moment, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

"Listen, Y/N," Anakin said quietly, taking the hand on your lap in his and leaning forward. "There's—there's something I need to tell you." You looked up into Anakin's eyes, felt his intention in his Force presence, his nerves, his resolve, amidst other things, things you didn't feel ready to acknowledge. You breathed in quickly, taking your hand from his, already shaking your head.

"No, Y/N, please," Anakin pleaded, watching your face, "please just listen."

"No," you choked out, your eyes wide in fear, unable to breathe properly. "Anakin, don't do this."

"Do what?" Anakin asked, his eyes becoming wet, watching you. "I can't keep pretending like this, Y/N. Please, just let me—"

"No," you said firmly, standing up, your limbs shaking. You placed the cup of caf on the flight table, spilling a little, unable to keep yourself still. "No, you're just—" you wrung your hands, feeling the fight or flight impulse, wishing there was somewhere for you to run away to, somewhere far enough, while simultaneously not wanting to ever leave Anakin's side. "You're just—you're trying to distract me. You're trying make me lose focus. You want to take the trials first, I know you do." What you did know was that this was completely ridiculous, and completely untrue. Anakin hadn't been competitive with you like that since you were both much younger. But you would have said anything at that moment to sidetrack Anakin, to stop him from saying the words you felt on the tip of his presence. Once he said those words aloud, everything would change. Everything would break. You couldn't let that happen. You couldn't leave the Jedi Order, but you most certainly couldn't lose Anakin.

"What?" Anakin asked in disbelief, his tears spilling from his eyes, causing you to turn away in pain. You felt in his Force presence that it had worked. You felt the hurt moving through him, and turned back, seeing that an agonized expression had made its home in his features. "You...you think I'm trying to...beat you? You think this is about winning?"

"I know it is," you said coolly, the words coming out of you as if they sliced through you like a knife. You felt all of Anakin's pain combining with your own, but you knew you couldn't let him say what he was trying to say. You needed to keep your life held together, even if it was held together by the last few strands of a broken rope. You could not let everything fall apart.

Anakin watched you with incredulity, his pain your pain, your hands shaking. Anakin's Force presence turned sour. An anger entered his heart, and while you felt it to be anger at you, you knew it was also anger directed inward, toward himself. You nearly crumpled.

"I yield, then," Anakin said, his voice shaking. "You win." He got up off the flight couch and jammed his hand against the button to open the ship's ramp. Anakin stalked off into the Forest, and as he did, you felt his presence collapse into a deep agony, a scream you almost felt you heard, though it was inaudible. You fell to your knees, sobbing.

********************

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Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

"Tyrannus?" Master Obi-Wan said again, stroking his beard, sitting in the ship's hull with you and Master Yuma. "I've never heard that name before. Though," Obi-Wan continued thoughtfully, "it could be a codename. Someone powerful enough to order an assassination likely wouldn't reveal his true identity to his underlings."

"Or hers," Master Yuma agreed, "or theirs. And how does this Tyrannus fit into what we've discovered about Dooku?"

While you and Anakin had been...well, arguing, Master Yuma and Master Obi-Wan had discovered evidence of Count Dooku's involvement in an effort to unite various separatist factions into a real political movement. Of course, it was unlikely that Dooku himself was involved in the separatist violence toward the Galactic Senate. There was no motive. Still, Dooku's political leanings meant that you needed to tread carefully. His efforts to secede from the Republic could have dangerous consequences.

"We'll need to leave the system, and then return," Master Yuma suggested. "That way, we can land in the space port and state our intentions to pay a diplomatic visit to Count Dooku. He won't need to know of what we have learned already."

"You said Anakin wasn't far?" Obi-Wan asked, looking at you attentively.

"He wanted...to make sure the perimeter was secure," you said slowly, as if your tongue was numb, looking down at your hands. This was a feeble excuse, and you knew it, but Obi-Wan didn't seem inclined to press you further.

"I'll go and fetch him." Master Obi-Wan rose from the flight couch and strolled down the ship's open ramp into the forest. You and Master Yuma sat quietly for a moment, you making sure your Force presence was pulled fully inward, into the singularity inside you, the infinitely dense space where you could hide yourself when needed. It was no use.

"Spill it," Master Yuma said, sitting across from you, leaning forward and looking you in the eye. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," you said, quasi-truthfully, avoiding your Master's gaze.

"I'll know soon enough," Master Yuma said, inclining her head toward the ramp. You knew she was right—Master Yuma would be able to read enough of the situation in Anakin's Force presence when he returned. You sighed.

"Truly, nothing happened," you pleaded, glancing at Master Yuma's beautiful face, feeling a sting of embarrassment. "I—I don't know what you all want from me." Your cheeks burned as anger singed through your insides. "I'm supposed to follow the code; I'm supposed to be compassionate; I'm supposed to put other's needs before my own; I'm supposed to do all of this at once, and I'm trying to, but it's like trying to hold together a starship with a thin strand of string. It's impossible to do all of it at once without hurting anyone. I can't—" You blinked back tears out of your eyes. "I can't make everyone happy, I can't be the perfect Jedi, and I'm trying so hard. Everyone is mad at me, all the time." You wiped your nose with the sleeve of your tunic. You knew you sounded like a whiny teenager, but you didn't care. You couldn't keep your frustration inside yourself any longer.

"No one is mad at you," Master Yuma said softly, reaching out her hand to place it over yours.

"Anakin is," you said, your face falling into despair. "And you are, too," you continued, looking your Master in the eye and pulling your hand away. "I know you think I should be handling this differently. I don't know what you want from me!" You stood up, swinging your hands. "I'm trying my best to keep everything together, and it's not enough for you, or for Anakin, or for the Order."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Master Yuma entuned softly, remaining still in her seated position, exuding the calm wisdom that came so easily to her. "If I've been too harsh with you, if I've overstepped my bounds, if I've made my opinions known without focusing first on your feelings—I apologize for my mistakes." Master Yuma's humility stripped the anger right out of your presence, and, as you usually did after an outburst like the one you'd just had, you felt remorse seep through you. You hung your head.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," you said quietly, turning to sit next to Master Yuma. "I shouldn't have lashed out like that. I'm just," you scrunched up your face, pushing the tears out of your eyes with your fingers, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to make everything okay."

"Sometimes you can't," Master Yuma said graciously, stroking your hair like she used to do when you were younger. "You can only do your best to make decisions that are right, and good."

"I am trying," you sighed. The feeling of her hands on your hair made you feel comforted in a way only Master Yuma could comfort you. It made you feel younger, like you were protected from harm.

"Then I commend you for that," Master Yuma smiled slightly. "And I'll leave it to you, to decide how to handle this...problem. I trust you, your instincts, and your intentions."

"Thank you," you said miserably. This support was helpful, sure—but it didn't solve the problem at hand, the one that was likely walking back to the ship now, hating your guts.

***

Anakin lay amidst the mosses and leaves, staring up at the gaps in the tree canopy. He knew this was called crown shyness—when trees wouldn't ever touch the trees growing next to them, giving them space, leaving these small gaps for sunlight to get through. These trees were like you, he thought bitterly. Always leaving just the smallest gap, never allowing him to get too close to you. The trees must have some scientific reason for growing like this, he thought. But what was your reasoning?

Anakin's anger had calmed into a dull ache, a bitter, hostile feeling that he felt attach inside of him, gripping around his organs. He didn't understand. As much as he thought through it, he couldn't make sense of your behavior. You had let Henry declare himself—you had let Henry tell you how much he admired you, how much he wanted to kiss you. Granted, you had jumped off a building after Henry's declaration, but still. Surely you had read Henry's emotional intentions as clearly as you had read Anakin's. Why had Henry been allowed to declare feelings for you aloud? Why hadn't you stopped him, the way you had stopped Anakin? Could you really believe he was trying to trick you—could you really think this was all about him being competitive?

Sure, Anakin had played into the competition that had grown between the two of you over the years. He'd found it fun, and comical, and also inevitable—the two of you were the best in your rank, and of course you wanted to beat each other, both having such competitive natures to begin with. But how could you think Anakin would put that over his friendship with you—his love?

Certainly, you were able to read Anakin's emotions well enough to know that his intentions had nothing to do with competition. So why would you say that you thought they did? What did you wish to gain, or avoid?

"Will you tell me what's wrong? Or are you planning to stew in your anger a bit longer?" Anakin turned his head in the direction of his Master's sarcastic voice, seeing Obi-Wan standing amongst the trees. Anakin pushed himself up on his arms.

"Stew, I think," Anakin responded moodily, standing up and brushing some of the dried moss off his tunic.

"Either way," Obi-Wan said shortly, crossing his arms and legs, standing in a casual position. "We're needed back at the ship. We plan to pay Count Dooku a visit."

Anakin started to walk back in the direction of the ship, slightly reluctantly, and Obi-Wan followed. "Y/N told us of your discovery," Obi-Wan said, watching his Padawan, "but we have no knowledge of anyone called Tyrannus. Interesting, indeed." Anakin said nothing, looking angrily at his feet as he stomped through the twigs and moss back in the ship's direction.

"What happened?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice kinder, ignoring Anakin's request to stew in his emotions.

"Nothing," Anakin said grumpily.

"Anakin, allowing your anger to fester is dangerous," Obi-Wan said, carefully, his voice even. "You mustn't allow it to grow inside of you, like this. You will lose control over it."

"I have plenty of control over my emotions," Anakin responded tersely. "It's Y/N you should be lecturing."

"Ah," Obi-Wan let out, looking at his Padawan as they walked. "Why do you say that?"
"Because she's infuriating," Anakin said angrily, kicking a stick as he walked.

"I find her to be very pleasant company," Obi-Wan said, a small smile crossing his face. Anakin knew his Master was baiting him, trying to get him to divulge what had happened between the two of you, but he wasn't going to give in.

"Well, then, she should have been your Padawan. Instead of me," Anakin said crossly.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, putting his arm on his Padawan's shoulder.

"I said I don't want to talk about it, okay?" Anakin shrugged Obi-Wan off and stalked ahead of him, leaving his Master to follow behind.

***

"And, as quickly as we vanished," Master Yuma said, pulling the ship out of hyperspace, "we reappear." You gazed out of the viewport. The view over Serenno was the same as the last time you'd seen it, but the feeling inside of the ship couldn't be more different. You sat across from Anakin, who had refused to say a word to you since he'd returned to the ship with Obi-Wan. You looked back at him, but he refused to even look at you. You saw his pouting face turned to the side, his jaw set in bitterness. You felt this anger surrounding his Force presence, but underneath it, you felt that he was still dwelling on your conversation, trying to make sense of it. You couldn't help yourself. You dove deeper into his presence, feeling his hurt with him, feeling his confusion. It hurt you, too, to think over these things. But you had done what you'd needed to do. You and Anakin couldn't let your relationship change. You couldn't violate the code. You'd be forced to leave the Jedi Order. You needed to be strong, for him as much as for yourself.

Anakin set his mouth into a firmer pout, putting his head into his hands, and you felt his thoughts turn to you, in this very moment, his anger lashing out toward you, his feelings of embarrassment and shame welling up as he communicated, very clearly, the desire for you to get out of his head. You let out the soft sound of a small inhale. Anakin had never, ever expressed that he felt intruded on, when you read his presence. He had never expressed the desire for you to stop reading him, with or without words. You looked away from him quickly, feeling tears springing behind your eyes. You closed your lids, and breathed deeply, but it was no use. You couldn't stop feeling Anakin's emotional impressions any more than you could stop hearing the whirring of the ship, any more than you could stop feeling the flight seat beneath you. It wasn't a sense you could turn off. You felt remorseful. You felt trapped. You drew your Force presence even deeper into yourself.

"That landing hangar, there," you heard Master Obi-Wan say to Master Yuma through the open door to the co*ckpit. You felt the ship touch down and opened your eyes, but Anakin was already standing up, turning his back to you, waiting at the ship's ramp.

"We've sent a transmission," Master Obi-Wan said, approaching the ramp with Master Yuma. "Count Dooku knows we have arrived to speak with him about the attacks on the senate."

"Why all the secrecy earlier," Anakin asked harshly, anger still permeating his tone, "if we were just going to state our intentions so clearly?"

"It's best to gather information from many sources," Master Obi-Wan said sagely. You tried to focus on the mission at hand, but you found your thoughts dwelling on Anakin, a despair you couldn't control seeping into every part of your mind. You didn't know whether this despair was your own, or if it was coming from Anakin, if it was even real. Your head was beginning to feel foggy. You and Anakin followed your Masters off the ship and out of the port, walking up the high street toward the capitol building, where your meeting with Count Dooku would take place. You watched your feet move beneath you, the cobblestones of the street moving past in a blur of the sunlight. Fully visible in your Jedi robes, you felt the presences around you taking in the sight of you and your fellows, felt the whispers moving past your senses, but you couldn't focus on any individual strand, any one presence. I must still be tired, you thought, trying to shake the brain fog out of you, but it was getting worse.

You looked upward toward the capitol building, cylindrical like all of the buildings on Serenno, but larger, grander in scale and beauty. You felt as if the air you were breathing in wasn't moving to your organs, like you were walking through thick sand.

"Something's wrong," you said, struggling to move your legs upward toward the capitol building. You heard the whispering presences through the Force grow louder around you, a cacophony of different emotions calling out to you.

"What?" Master Yuma turned back to you, and you saw her as if through a veil, felt her move toward you as if in slow motion. The fog descended around you. You saw Master Obi-Wan start to turn around, saw Anakin ignoring you, walking forward.

"Something..." you tried to say, but your legs started to feel weak underneath you. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply, trying to ground yourself in the Force. You felt outward, feeling the end of the root out in front of you, the root moving toward the base of the tremor, in the direction of the capitol building. You felt a presence acknowledge you, as if in fear.

"He...he knows I'm here," you said, your eyes still closed, trying to remain conscious. "But how—?"

"Y/N, what is it?" Master Obi-Wan asked urgently, grabbing onto your arm.

"It's happening again," you heard Master Yuma's terrified voice say to Master Obi-Wan.

"How does he know who I am?" you asked, your eyes dancing under their lids as you used your other senses to reach out to this presence. It did not feel the same as the black hole of a presence you'd felt on Hoth; still, there was something similar, a hint of darkness. If that presence had been a frozen sea, this one might be an ice cube. There was something nefarious in the Force, a disturbance that was taking all of your senses hostage.

"Y/N, you're scaring me," you heard Master Yuma say, as if from a distance. "Y/N, please, what is it? What's going on?" You worked the air in and out of your lungs, opening your eyes, taking in the blurry forms of Master Yuma and Master Obi-Wan.

"He's leaving," you whispered, feeling the presence turn, as if it were striding through a door, and slamming it shut.

"Who is leaving?" Master Yuma asked, watching your face. Behind your Masters, you saw a small ship taking off into the sky, as if from a hidden hangar in the capitol building.

"Count Dooku," you said, blinking, seeing your Masters more clearly. You saw Anakin standing at a distance, glancing up at you and then averting his eyes back to the ground, his face screwed up in a pout. You could tell he was listening closely.

"How do you—?" Master Obi-Wan began, but you shook your head.

"I'm not crazy," you pleaded, looking at both of your Masters.

"No one said you were," Master Yuma said, looking frantically back and forth between you and Obi-Wan. The brain fog was overwhelming you again.

"Y/N, you don't look so good," Master Obi-Wan observed. "Master Yuma will take you back to the ship. Anakin and I will check on Dooku's status." You nodded, turning to look at Anakin, who was still staring at the ground. Could he really cling to his anger, even now? Would he really refuse to look at you?

Master Yuma wrapped a firm arm around you and started to walk you back in the direction from which you'd come. You were shaking. You didn't know why, but you didn't want to leave Anakin's side. You turned your head back, looking to Anakin, pushing out with the Force. You reached out with your hurt, pleading with him just to look in your direction. Ani. You saw him grit his teeth firmly, and turn to walk the other way, refusing to even glance back at you.

***

You sat in your quarters, the sparse Padawan room feeling like a breath of fresh air after so long without sleep, and so long not being back at the Temple. You'd just awoken from a much needed nap. Here, surrounded by the safety of these walls, it was hard to remember the horrible nefarious buzzing feeling you'd felt on Serenno. Still, you tried to think back over that experience, tried to piece through what you'd felt. Thankfully, you'd been able to reunite with Jarin and his brother, escorting them safely off-world. They had recounted for Master Obi-Wan and Master Yuma what they had told you of the person called Tyrannus. You had been correct about Count Dooku; he had left shortly after his notice of your arrival. Master Obi-Wan and Master Yuma had agreed that this was suspicious, but they refused to jump to any conclusions. You had talked it over with your Master, and though you had no way of knowing this, you felt in your gut that Count Dooku had known of you, had recognized your presence. There was no explanation for this—why Count Dooku would know you, a lowly Padawan, made no sense.

Could the presence you had felt on Hoth those years ago have been Count Dooku's presence? Something in you didn't think so. But why would he have fled when Jedi came to Serenno on a diplomatic mission? Why did you feel this certainty, that Count Dooku had recognized you specifically? Why couldn't you shake the suspicion that you had been the reason Count Dooku had fled?

You felt her presence before she approached. You reached out with the Force, letting your Master know it was okay to come in before she knocked.

The door opened and Master Yuma walked through, smiling warmly at you, a stressed feeling vibrating through her Force presence.

"You look better," Master Yuma said, looking you over with a satisfied smile. You nodded back to her, sighing. "This last mission has given us a lot to think about, hasn't it?" Master Yuma approached your bed and sat, reaching her hand out to rub your back.

"Too much," you agreed. "Did you tell the council of my suspicions?" Master Yuma hesitated, her hand pausing mid-rub.

"The council...doesn't believe Count Dooku could have anything to do with the attacks on the senators," Master Yuma said carefully. You knitted your brow in frustration.

"Why?" you asked, trying to breathe through your elevated heartbeat.

"The council, in all of its wisdom, can at times fall into the trap of pride," Master Yuma explained. "Count Dooku was once a Jedi, trained by Master Yoda himself. They will not believe he would betray their code."

"Hasn't he already renounced their code?" you asked, confused. The more you tried to think through it all in your head, the more your head started to hurt.

"Y/N," Master Yuma said, soothingly, "you've been through a lot in these past few weeks. Try to put these concerns out of your mind, for now. Try to regain a sense of normalcy, of routine."

"But—"

"It is necessary, when one feels overwhelmed," Master Yuma said delicately, "to establish a sense of safety and regularity." You sighed.

"There's nothing normal about any of this," you emitted, your thoughts dwelling on Count Dooku, and then shifting to Anakin. You felt your face fall into a slight pout.

"Then we must try harder," Master Yuma said through a small smile, "to find that normalcy where we can." You felt in her pause something unsaid, and you turned to look at your Master, narrowing your eyes. Master Yuma met your gaze, and you felt the direction of her thoughts mirror your own.

"What is it you came in here to tell me?" you asked, suspicious.

"I have arranged sparring practice for you," Master Yuma said amiably, shrugging. "Now that you're feeling rested, a bit of practice—your normal routine—should do you some good." Your heart leapt as Master Yuma's thoughts dwelled on Anakin. You knew he wouldn't resist a good sparring match, and you knew he'd have to look at you, have to face you, speak to you again. You felt the corners of your mouth move upward, a smile gracing your face. Master Yuma looked delighted at this response.

"Anakin will be waiting for you on the eastern balcony at sunset," Master Yuma said, getting up off your bed and winking at you. "Don't hold back."

***

You sat very still. You knew if you allowed yourself any movement at all, you would break down, and you wouldn't let yourself do that. Your eyes were closed. You breathed evenly. You worked, hard, to keep your emotions at bay.

You were being silly. Anakin would come. He had been delayed, was all. And you knew that when he arrived, you wouldn't betray any negative emotions. You wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Everything would go back to the way it had been. When he came, he would find you here, meditating, like normal.

The minutes felt excruciatingly long. You breathed rhythmically, forcing air in and out of your lungs, forcing your face to remain composed. You would not give in. He would still come.

The minutes passed slowly, and you felt as if you were a statue beginning to crumble, sitting as you were, on this balcony, so still in your meditation pose. You felt your stone insides begin to crack. You felt the last bits of light fade from your skin. You couldn't keep yourself together any longer.

The moment you opened your eyes, and your body fell out of its position, you felt the tears flowing freely out of you. You didn't understand. How could he not come for you? Could he really be that angry with you? Didn't he understand, that everything you were doing was meant to hold your fragile lives together? Didn't he understand that you were doing this for his career as much as you were doing it for yours?

The pinks were fading from the Coruscanti skyline, the dark blue encroaching, and you let your emotions out, finally, kneeling as you faced the sky, weeping. How could things have gone so wrong? Anakin wasn't coming. Anakin had never before let you down, had never before failed to come for you, when you were waiting for him. The hurt of it was too much for you to bear. It felt as if you had been slashed through with a lightsaber, over and over again, the pain moving through your whole body. And you knew it was your fault.

"Find you here, I suspected I would," you heard behind you, and you stifled a gasp, turning your head. It wasn't often that anyone was able to sneak up on you, but your despair had clouded your senses.

"Master Yoda," you said through your tears, watching the old Jedi Master walking toward you, his cane hitting the marble of the balcony with an echoing click.

"A disturbance in the Force, I sensed," Master Yoda said in his calm, croaky voice. "Brought about, it was, by your grief." You looked at Master Yoda with wide eyes, the tears still falling softly, as he came and kneeled beside you, mirroring your body language, facing outward.

"Grief, Master?" you asked, trying to puzzle over the meaning of his words.

"Grief, yes, young one," Master Yoda said, looking out at the fading color in the sky. "Careful, we must be, with our feelings." You watched Master Yoda's face, but his eyes stared outward, looking far off into the distance.

"I—I fear my feelings stem from attachment," you spilled out, not able to keep up any pretense with this Jedi Master who made you feel as if you were once again five years old.

"Yes," Master Yoda responded, his calm pervading the atmosphere around the two of you. "Fear of loss, attachment can bring. But," Master Yoda continued, his ears perking up as he turned to look at you, "loss itself, does not bring about anger, or hatred. Our response to our grief, is what matters." You met Master Yoda's gaze, and saw on his face a small smile. In his Force presence, you felt nothing but calm, and a slight sense of pride, as he watched you. You sensed him thinking back to you as a youngling, sensed his admiration at how you had grown. You felt this Jedi's care for you in his very being, and it calmed you in a deep way. Being in Master Yoda's presence made everything feel okay.

"I have tried," you sighed, "to respond correctly. I have tried so hard," you said, a lone tear falling down your cheek, "to be compassionate to those around me, and to walk in the way of the light."

"Without compassion for the self," Master Yoda responded simply, "a Jedi cannot have compassion for others."

"Master?" you asked, confused, trying to make sense of this.

"Do right by your own feelings, you must," Master Yoda said firmly. "It is not feeling you must fear, but your response to feeling." You let these words sink in, trying to sort out their meaning. Master Yoda sighed. "True to your own feelings, you must be," Master Yoda said plainly, "if you wish to show compassion to others." You inhaled sharply. How could Master Yoda know--?

"Old, I am," Master Yoda said, standing slowly, using his cane for support. "Time for me to sleep, it is." Master Yoda smiled at you, a twinkle in his eye, before turning and exiting the balcony, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

*********************

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Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

The cold of the early morning blew through the open entrance to the Temple. You shivered, wiping sleep out of your eyes, and pulled your robe around yourself more tightly. It was worth it, you reminded yourself, to get up this early. The mess hall would be nearly empty at this hour. The thought of breakfast this early in the morning turned your stomach, but the breakfast hall would be warm, with a roaring fire, and it would have caf. You hurried forward, eager to pass out of the cold air blowing into the Temple. You smelled the sweet smell of the Jedi's usual breakfast—freshly baked seed breads, various proteins, simple, reasonable fares that would serve their optimal nutritional purpose.

Entering the breakfast hall, you breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't here. You made your way over to collect your food, a few pieces of toasted bread and some fruit, and were in the midst of pouring yourself a large, steaming cup of caf when you felt it. To call it a disturbance in the Force would be overstating it, but you certainly felt disturbed, feeling Anakin's troubled presence enter behind you. You didn't turn, but merely took your plate and cup and walked over to sit in the corner of the hall, alone. You tried to keep your hands from shaking as you grabbed utensils. What was he doing up this early? Why in the world would he choose to breakfast at this hour? Unless he, too, was trying to avoid...

You couldn't help yourself. You stole a glance over your shoulder to look at him. Anakin, tall and lanky, in his new darker colored robes and vest he had taken to wearing, was pouting, his jaw set as he collected his breakfast. It wasn't that you had been trying to actively avoid him; it was that seeing him in the hallways of the Temple brought back all the bad feelings you'd been shoving down inside of yourself, ever since you'd returned from Serenno a few weeks ago. And it wasn't just your own memories you were grappling with—being in his presence meant feeling the tornado inside of him, all of the hurt, anger, among other things, things that made you feel as if your heart was breaking into tiny pieces and shattering on the floor, over and over again, in an endless loop. Suffice to say, being in Anakin's presence these days was more than you could handle.

You drank a sip of caf, burning your throat, and started to cough. You felt Anakin look over at you, and forced yourself to continue facing the opposite direction, into the corner. Would this never end?

As you were picking at the bread you didn't feel like eating, an opposite and opposing force entered the dining hall. You turned around, smiling slightly, making eye contact with your Master as she strolled over to where you were sitting.

"Aren't you going to eat?" you asked her, seeing that she'd skipped the breakfast array all together.

"There isn't time," Master Yuma said, putting a hand on your shoulder. "Our presence is requested."

"We have a new mission?" you asked, glancing quickly over at Anakin's turned head. Master Yuma paused.

"No," Master Yuma said, unease entering her Force presence. "You do."

***

"The office of the Chancellor?" you asked, trying to keep up with Master Yuma as she strolled, quickly, through the Republic Executive Building. "Why in blazes are we being briefed there?"

"The Chancellor himself has requested this assignment," Master Yuma said, her nerves causing her to walk even faster. "We mustn't be late." The two of you walked quickly through the luxurious hallway until you reached the lift that would take you to the penthouse, at the very top.

When the lift had ascended and the doors opened, you saw Chancellor Palpatine sitting behind a large desk. Around him stood a handful of senators, Master Windu, and Master Yoda. You squeaked in surprise. Master Yoda was rarely involved in the briefing of your missions. Of course, neither was the Supreme Chancellor himself.

"Ah, she is here," the Chancellor said, standing and opening his arms in welcome. "Yuma, lovely to see you as always."

"Likewise, Chancellor Palpatine," Master Yuma responded, walking forward deferentially, one hand behind your back to guide you forward with her. You stumbled a bit.

"And your charming Padawan," the Chancellor said amicably, turning to face you. "Y/N, isn't it?"

"Yes, Chancellor," you said, mirroring Master Yuma's deference, "a pleasure to see you again."

"I wish it were under better circ*mstances," the Chancellor said, sitting back down as you and Master Yuma joined the ranks surrounding the Chancellor's desk.

"Agree with you on this course of action, I do not," Master Yoda entuned, looking over at you before returning his gaze to Chancellor Palpatine.

"Y/N is certainly up to the task," Master Windu said firmly.

"What task?" you asked, looking between your Masters, then back to the Chancellor.

"We are taking a new approach to try to determine who is ordering these attacks on the senators of the Galactic Republic," Master Windu explained, his gaze harsh and determined. "The Chancellor has suggested a Jedi should impersonate a senator—one we believe is a likely target—in order to capture the attacker, to be taken in for questioning." You felt Master Yuma's unease grow in the Force.

"And you believe that Jedi should be me?" you asked, putting two and two together. Master Windu pulled out a small holoprojector, setting it on Chancellor Palpatine's desk. A holo-image of a senator arose from its base.

"This is Senator Voure," Chancellor Palpatine said, his voice kind, watching you attentively. "She is in staunch opposition to the Military Creation Act. She is currently off world, but has been expected to return to Coruscant later this afternoon."

"Surely, you see the resemblance," Master Windu said, looking between you and the hologram. You squinted. Sure, Senator Voure was young, female, and petite. She had somewhat of a similar hair color to you. Other than that, though, you didn't think the two of you looked that much alike. Still, from far away, you could certainly pass for this woman.

"So," you said, intuiting the plan, "it is I who will be...'returning' to Coruscant in her stead?"

"Yes," Chancellor Palpatine said. "We believe having you impersonate Senator Voure will serve the dual purpose of keeping her safe, and allowing the Jedi Order the opportunity to discover more about the mysterious figurehead behind these attacks."

"Using her as bait, you mean," Master Yuma said, weaving a protective arm around you, looking cross.

"Your Padawan is more than capable of handling herself," Master Windu told Master Yuma. "She has proven herself a worthy adversary, to any bounty hunter who might try to engage her."

"Proven herself, she has," Master Yoda said, looking up at you with his wise old face. "But force her to do this, we must not."

"Y/N," Master Yuma asked, looking at you with wide eyes. "Do you agree to this?" You thought it over for a moment, reaching out with the Force, feeling the room. You shivered. For some reason, it was colder in here than it had been outside. You looked down at the hologram of Senator Voure, and thought about what the creation of an Army of the Republic might mean.

"Yes," you said, looking up at Chancellor Palpatine. "I'll do it."

***

Anakin could barely see through the storm in his head. He ran through the hallways of the Temple, struggling to stay upright, his limbs not wanting to move, though his mind desperately needed to get him there, to get closer.

He'd heard about the bomb. He didn't understand it. What had you been doing on that ship, a senator's ship? He'd seen you in the breakfast hall just this morning. What had happened to you? Were you okay? What if you weren't? What if the last interactions he'd had with you had been in anger? What if he'd spent the last few weeks since Serenno ignoring you, and now you were gone? His insides felt like a scream; his arms and legs felt like fire. He felt he could burn this whole Temple to the ground, without meaning to, just by being here, just by feeling this way.

No, he told himself sternly, forcing his feet to move, one after the other, up the stairs, over to the western wing of the Temple, where the medical chambers were. You would be okay. He couldn’t let himself burn up completely. Not yet. What if you needed him? He had to keep moving.

He burst into the medical chamber, alarming the droid who stood at the doors, ignoring its questioning as he raced past empty beds, into the next room, the room where they kept critical patients. His heart turned to stone. There you were, laying in the bed, tubes strapped to your face and arms, your head bandaged. And Obi-Wan, turning towards him from your bedside, his hands coming up, palms forward, as if to stop Anakin from coming any closer, as if in a vain attempt to calm him.

"What happened!?" Anakin demanded, striding the length of the room, almost crashing into Obi-Wan's outstretched arms.

"She's going to be fine," Obi-Wan said, his voice quiet, calm, and even, as always. Anakin breathed deeply, blinking his eyes and trying to get oxygen into his lungs.

"She's...going to be...?" Anakin sputtered, looking at you, laying in that bed with your eyes closed, air flowing through a tube to your nose. What were you wearing? Instead of your usual Jedi tunic, you were wearing what appeared to be a stately gown, yellow and pink, in a fine material that barely covered your shoulders. Anakin gawked, trying to understand the juxtaposition of this outfit with your bandages and the hospital environment.

"She's going to be just fine," Obi-Wan said again, putting his hands on his Padawan's shoulders, trying to steady him as if he were a bucking rancor. Anakin heaved deep breaths, watching you, turning back to Obi-Wan.

"You're sure?" Anakin asked, his voice cracking.

"Positive. The medics have confirmed she'll make a full recovery." Obi-Wan gestured for Anakin to sit in the chair on the other side of your bed, and Anakin threw himself into it reluctantly.

"What happened? I heard a senator's ship was attacked. Why—"

"Senator Voure's ship landed on a hangar that was rigged with explosives," Obi-Wan explained carefully, watching Anakin as if afraid he were the one about to explode.

"Why was Y/N on the senator's ship?" Anakin asked, his breath still coming fast, wiping his sweaty hands on his knees.

"Because," Obi-Wan said, sighing, looking Anakin in the face, "Y/N was impersonating Senator Voure. We expected the senator would be on the receiving end of something like this—"

"So you put Y/N in there on purpose? You knew the ship would be attacked, and you allowed her to get on it?" Anakin asked, his anger rising in him, looking at his Master in disbelief.

"I didn't put her anywhere," Obi-Wan said, his face sympathetic. "Chancellor Palpatine consulted with the council, who recognized an opportunity—"

"Using Y/N as bait? Putting her up for the separatists like a Yala for slaughter?" Anakin bellowed, waving his hands in the air.

"Anakin, you've got to calm down. Everything is okay," Obi-Wan said, his eyebrows upturned, feeling truly sympathetic for his Padawan.

"Why wasn't I informed of this plan?" Anakin huffed, his nostrils flaring.

"I wasn't even informed until after the fact," Obi-Wan said, keeping his voice calm and even, trying, it seemed, to soften the blow of this revelation. But Anakin didn't feel calmed—he felt spiky, angry, as if he were erupting. How could the council make such a heartless and selfish decision? Did they really care more about finding information than they cared for your own life?

"Uohhr..." you emitted softly, turning your head from one side to the other on your pillow. The noise you'd made evaporated Anakin's anger. It still hung, in the air around him, but it was no longer concentrated, no longer the most important emotion he was feeling. Anakin immediately took one of your hands in both of his, the hand that was not strapped to the machines near your bed.

"She's only mildly concussed, with a few bruises to her ribs," Obi-Wan said quietly, watching Anakin carefully. "They gave her pain relief, which is sedating her, but she should be out of here in a few days, and fully back to normal in a few weeks." Anakin nodded, not taking his eyes off you. What could he say to you, when you awoke? That he had been childish? He was still angry at you, even now, for your inability to face him, your inability to own up to your own feelings. If it was a rejection you were holding back—if he really meant nothing to you outside of friendship—Anakin could take it. But you wouldn't even give him that, and it frustrated him, that you withheld yourself so firmly. He didn't understand it. But it didn't matter, now. Anakin felt his face flushing in embarrassment and fear, wondering how you would react to him when you awoke, wondering whether you were angry with him. He supposed he would find out soon enough.

***

You felt a softness around you, a physical softness, but a softness that was also in the air, in the vibrations of energy surrounding your motionless form. There was even a softness inside of you, making all of your limbs feel fuzzy. You felt the physical softness to be pillows. You smiled, moving your head against their pleasant surface, feeling the softness in the air swell at the same time. You stretched your arms, but met resistance—you felt your hand moving out of an enclosure, the warm, hard edges surrounding your hand falling away, and felt some kind of string pulling back on your other arm. You frowned.

You opened your eyes, and felt the softness in the air fall away, dissolve into a nervous, distant energy. The softness of the bed and the pillows remained, and you blinked, trying to sort out your surroundings. It was very bright in here, and your eyes felt a bit watery.

"Y/N?" you heard a familiar voice say, and you blinked again, trying to get your eyes to focus.

"Obi-Wan?" you asked softly, surprised to hear how feeble your voice was.

"I'm here," you heard Master Obi-Wan say. "How are you feeling?"

"Soft," you said, sighing, leaning your head back and blinking your eyes some more. You heard Master Obi-Wan chuckle.

"That's good," Obi-Wan said, and you heard the smile in his Force presence. You looked around, and saw his face smiling down at you, his familiar beard and long hair glistening from the bright lights on the ceiling.

"Where's Master Yuma?" you asked blearily, looking around. It was then that you saw Anakin, and you breathed in, the softness you felt giving way to a spiky feeling, an embarrassed hurt, a useless fear. Anakin was sitting back in his chair, his body leaned away from you, as if to create distance, but he was looking at you earnestly. You felt a mix of worry, fear, affection, and that familiar anger behind his eyes, but you also felt other things, and, as usual, you couldn’t sort through them. You flushed, a hint of anger entering your own presence. Why was he here, when he had refused to even speak to you for the last two weeks? What did he have to say for himself?

"She went to speak with the council," Master Obi-Wan said, in answer to your question, looking at Anakin, then back at you. "Y/N, do you remember what happened?" The soft feeling in your veins was fading, and you thought back, trying to remember the morning.

"The ship was attacked," you said slowly, remembering putting on Sentaor Voure's clothes, boarding the ship in a discreet location, and then landing on the senator's hangar. You flushed, realizing you were still wearing this gown, one that left much of your shoulders on display. You reached for the medi-blanket, pulling it up to your chin.

"The hangar was rigged with explosives," Master Obi-Wan said seriously. "Master Yuma is asking the council to call off this assignment, given the circ*mstances."

"But this attack proves that our strategy is working!" you protested, trying to sit up in bed, but feeling a pain in your ribs. "We just need to be smarter about this. We can't quit now."

"Y/N, you could have died, had you been positioned differently on that ship," Master Obi-Wan said, and at his words, Anakin leaned forward in his chair, looking back and forth between you and Obi-Wan.

"I didn't die, and I’m not going to," you said defiantly. "We just need a better plan. We're so close to discovering—"

You were interrupted by the doors of the medical bay opening, and Master Yuma striding through them.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," Master Yuma said, striding over to your bedside and hugging you gingerly, then stepping back and kissing the top of your head. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine," you said, watching Master Yuma carefully, trying to understand the agitation you felt in her Force presence. "What did the council say?"

Master Yuma responded by giving Master Obi-Wan an incensed look. "They believe we should send you off world," Master Yuma said slowly, through gritted teeth. "As the senator. They think doing so will force whoever is behind these attacks to send bounty hunters, rather than using more crude forms of killing, like explosives."

"We'll go with her, then," Master Obi-Wan said, looking at Master Yuma with pleading eyes. "As her Jedi escort. That's believable, that the Republic would assign Jedi to her tail, after an attempted assassination."

"The council believes," Master Yuma said, her nostrils flaring, "that sending well-known Jedi Knights will cause the attackers to resort to more dangerous alternatives, in their attempts to harm her."

"They want us to send her alone?!" Master Obi-Wan said, incredulous. "We can't do that."

"I'm fully capable of going on a mission alone," you said defiantly, trying and failing to push yourself up on your pillows.

"But with an attempted assassination—" Master Obi-Wan objected, turning to you.

"They've agreed," Master Yuma said, her voice calming, though only slightly, "to allow us to send a Padawan to accompany her." Everyone in the room was quiet, as all turned to look at Anakin. Anakin flushed scarlet.

"I don't know..." Anakin started, sounding uncomfortable. Your face grew hot with anger. These were the first words you'd heard him say in weeks. Did he hate you so much that he refused to go on an assignment with you?

"I can go alone," you said flatly, turning back to your Masters.

"You'd rather her remain unprotected?!" Obi-Wan asked, turning to his Padawan incredulously.

"Of course not," Anakin said, looking at the ground, pulling on a thread of his tunic's sleeve.

"Unprotected?" You asked, the volume of your voice rising. "What do you think I am, a youngling?"

"I am more than certain you can take on any attacker, Y/N. What worries me is how much is still unknown..." Obi-Wan cut himself off, fingering something in his pocket.

"The Chancellor himself suggested Anakin accompany you," Master Yuma said, "and I'm not about to disagree. We don't know what we're facing here, Y/N. If you have to impersonate the target of an assassination attempt, I'd rather you do so with a companion."

You sat there, pouting. You would have crossed your arms, had one of your wrists not been hooked up to an IV.

"Anakin?" Master Obi-Wan said expectantly, looking at his Padawan. The two of them seemed to have some kind of silent conversation. There was a lot of complexity in the emotions involved. You tried to parse through it, but gave up. What did it matter, why Anakin didn't want to be around you? That was his problem. You were done worrying about his insolence.

"Okay," Anakin agreed, sighing, the defiance in his Force presence turning to a deep sadness. This confused you even more. "When do we leave?"

"In a few days," Master Yuma answered, watching your face. "Once Y/N has recovered. You'll be departing to Levangé, Senator Voure's home world. There, you will pretend to be the senator, hiding out at one of their political safehouse."

"What's that?" you asked Master Obi-Wan, seeing him fingering something small in his hands. He started, as if he were unaware of his movements, deep in his thoughts.

"The pursuer dart," Obi-Wan explained reluctantly.

"The one that tried to kill Senator Grano?" you asked, crinkling your eyebrows.

"And you, if you remember correctly," Master Obi-Wan said, sighing. "Look at this." He held the broken pieces of the pursuer dart out for you to look at, fingering them carefully. You had to squint, but you could see the small, mysterious markings on the side of the dart.

"What does it mean?" you asked, breathing, looking back up at Obi-Wan.

"We aren't sure," Master Yuma said. "But while you two are on Levangé, we plan to find out."

**************************

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Chapter 18: Chapter 18

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

"This is insane," you said, holding up a dress with only the tips of your fingers, like it might be poisonous. You looked around at the outfits strewn about the briefing room.

"Part of the job," Master Yuma said bracingly, looking around the room as if she too were overwhelmed by the colors. Senator Voure had sent what she had called "a few things" for you to wear while you impersonated her on Levangé. The outfits you saw around you were more intense, in number and in quality, than you could have imagined of clothes. You looked down at your own beige tunic, touching it helplessly. You'd never worn anything different than Jedi attire, ever. You supposed you must have worn something else as a child, on Batu, but you couldn't remember that.

You walked across the room, trying to think clearly in spite of the dissonance of pattern and texture around you. Your ribs twinged in pain, and you grimaced—you'd just been let out of the medical bay this morning, and already, you were set to leave for your mission. Usually, you wouldn't have batted an eye at this pace—Jedi were often called into duty at inopportune times, at the last minute, or while recovering from injuries. Today, though, you felt differently. Maybe it was because this would be your first real mission without Master Yuma. Or, maybe it was the thought of the person who would be accompanying you in her stead that made you nervous.

"Don't senators ever dress practically?" you asked desperately, pulling some of the garments back into their suitcases.

"There are pants in here," Master Yuma said, a smile in her voice. She was teasing, you knew, in part to mask her worry and frustration at having to send you on a mission without her—your first mission without her.

"I don't know if I'd call these pants," you uttered to Yuma in an exasperated tone, holding up a clothing item with room for two legs, but that had colorful strands of fabric hanging off the sides. You assumed anyone wearing these might look a bit like a rathtar.

"You know, you might actually enjoy wearing something new for a change," Master Yuma said, taking the pants from your hands and folding them into the last of the suitcases. "You probably won't be away that long, anyway." You felt her Force presence pang with sadness, and saw her turn her face away from you.

"I'm going to be just fine," you reassured her, leaning your head against her upper arm.

"I know you are," Master Yuma said, turning to pull you into a tight hug. "You'll be back here before you know it." You let yourself melt into the hug, closing your eyes and breathing deeply.

"I sure hope so," you said quietly, dwelling on the mission at hand, and the Padawan who would be joining you. Master Yuma sighed.

"You know," Master Yuma said, pulling away from you, keeping her hands around the sides of your shoulders, "I've been pretending for some time now that you still need me...that you aren't ready for the trials. I'm sorry if I've been holding you back. If anything, it's been my own inability to let you go." Master Yuma's eyes filled with tears.

"Master," you said, shaking your head, "I will always need you. Now, and after the trials, and forever." You had rarely seen your Master cry, but today, of all days, it was too much for you. You threw yourself back into the hug, hiding your face in your Master's arms.

"It's time to go," Master Yuma said gently, dragging both of your minds back to your sense of duty. "This looks suitable," Master Yuma said, pulling a sheer gray flowing garment out of the last suitcase. You couldn't help your displeased expression. Master Yuma laughed, handing you the flowy dress and helping you to button it after you'd thrust it over your head. It as extravagant, and pointless, that much was certain. However, it only showed part of your neck and shoulders, and the material was actually quite soft. You couldn't help but blush in embarrassment, wearing this.

"One last thing," Master Yuma said, sighing and reaching for your Padawan braid. You knew that Master Yuma would re-braid it when you returned, knew that you were simply committing to the mission, but still—leaving the Temple in someone else's clothes, without your braid, felt like a bad omen.

Master Yuma piled the suitcases onto the hovercart and pressed the button to make it follow you—out of the briefing room, through the halls of the Temple, to the hangar on the northeastern side. You walked slowly beside your Master, reflecting on the fact that she wouldn't be coming with you. It didn't feel right, somehow, but you knew by now that this was the way of the world—change came swiftly, and was almost always too quick.

"I see our friends are waiting for us," Master Yuma said quietly as you stepped out onto the hangar, squinting in the Coruscanti sunlight and putting a hand up to cover your eyes. Anakin's pout was visible even from this great distance. He stood, his hands clasped together in front of him, next to Master Obi-Wan, who immediately walked forward to greet you both.

"Everything is set with the coordinates," Master Obi-Wan said as he reached you. You felt his nervous energy, his unhappiness at not being assigned to accompany you. "The ship will take you directly to the safehouse, which is situated at the edge of a very remote village in Levangé's southern hemisphere.

"Right," you said flatly, watching Anakin's unmoving stare as he stood next to...hold on—

"You are to imitate the senator's behavior as best you can, as if it were she who were vacationing in the south," Obi-Wan continued, "and keep both us and the council abreast of any disturbances that you notice in the village. The quicker we can take someone into custody, the quicker we can bring you both home." You were listening to him, you were—but you were more distracted by the ship behind Anakin. It was a BTL series Y-Wing Starfighter. You gawked at it.

"We're going all the way to Levangé...," you pointed, your face feeling hot, "in that?" The Y-Wing was a small, two-seater ship with no hull, and Levangé was many parsecs away, positioned as it was in the Outer Rim. All of this meant that you and Anakin would be sitting, back to back, in a confined co*ckpit, for a long, long time.

"We don't want another attack while in-transit," Obi-Wan explained, giving Yuma a knowing look. "Our enemies will expect Senator Voure to be traveling in style. Thus, to get you there safely, a smaller ship is our best bet."

You nodded, resigned to your fate. Obi-Wan pushed the hover cart in the direction of the ship, loading Senator Voure's suitcases—or, your suitcases, you supposed—into the small cargo hold. Master Yuma stepped in front of you, gripping your arm.

"You look miserable," Master Yuma whispered to you, stroking your hair. You said nothing, making sure your Force presence was pulled fully into yourself. This was a habit you'd been unable to shake, lately. Master Yuma sighed. "The Jedi Order, the Republic, the ideals on which you stake your life," Master Yuma said quietly, "mean nothing if you don't first embrace your own place within the galaxy." You gave Master Yuma an inquisitive look.

"How can you say that?" you whispered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin would overhear.

"It's the truth," Master Yuma said simply. "Sacrificing your life for a cause means nothing if you do so only because of the influence of others."

"I'm not sacrificing anything," you told Master Yuma, looking her in the eye. "I'm going to be fine."

"I know you're going to be fine," Master Yuma said impatiently, letting go of your arm. "What I mean to say is this: you have only one life. Make sure you live it for yourself." She took a step back from you as Obi-Wan returned to escort you to the ship. You looked around and saw Anakin climbing into the pilot's seat. Whirling back to face Master Yuma, you gave her a confused stare, which she returned with a small smile. What did she mean, and why was she telling you this now? You allowed yourself to be led toward the ship.

And so it begins, you thought, climbing into the gunner's seat without so much of a glance at the back of Anakin's head.

***

The silence felt heavier than space itself. Anakin was surprised the ship didn't descend into the ether, or whatever lay beyond the flashing blue of hyperspace that illuminated his view out of the tiny co*ckpit. There he had sat, with you sitting behind him, facing the opposite direction, for almost four hours now—and nothing. No conversation, no sound at all. You could be asleep, for all he knew. It felt as if he were alone in this ship—you had pulled your own Force presence back so thoroughly that he couldn’t sense you at all, even though his mind knew that you were sitting behind him.

While Jedi often took ships of varying sizes out on missions, Anakin had been assigned with you and Master Yuma, as well as his own Master, so often that with you he'd always taken a ship of moderate size, with at least a co*ckpit and a main hull. If the two of you had been in one of those ships, you could have at least closed a door between you. Anakin would rather be truly alone than be sitting here, in your presence, feeling more alone than he had ever felt in his life.

Anakin's anger toward you had slowly evaporated over these past few weeks into a confused sadness. He regretted the way he had handled the situation with you, your last true conversation having gone so badly. If only he'd been able to stay calm; if only he'd been able to ask you, gently, why you didn't want to talk about your relationship, why you felt as if everything needed to remain unsaid. He had roved his own mind for weeks now, weeks of silence between the two of you, and he still couldn't puzzle out your feelings, still couldn't find any clues as to why you'd reacted the way you did. But instead of asking you to clarify your meaning, he'd flown off the handle, as always, and then iced you out. He'd wanted, in those days you'd been in the medical bay, to apologize for his behavior, to take your hand and sit by your bedside day and night. But he'd held himself back, primarily out of fear for how you'd react. You'd been as cold to him as he'd been to you, at least since he had refused to train with you after you'd both returned from Serenno. And now here you were, sitting so close together, but remaining emotionally so far apart. This wasn't what Anakin wanted. He had to fix this, but he didn't know how.

The silence was absolutely deafening. Anakin didn’t know what to say, after four long hours of travel, four long hours of sitting at your side but not being able to look at you. Getting his own lips to move took an enormous act of internal momentum.

"Y/N?" Anakin asked. He knew you were sitting there, even though he couldn't feel you or see you. He knew you were likely deep in thought yourself, possibly even taking in his own emotional landscape as you regarded your own. It wasn't fair. Why did you get to know everything he was feeling, and he couldn't even get two honest words out of you?

"What?" you asked, your voice sounding flat and unemotional. Anakin took a deep breath.

"Are you nervous?" he asked, his own nerves spilling out into his voice.

"About what?" you asked, your flat tone giving way to something else, an urgency you hadn't meant to convey. Anakin couldn't help a small smile. Here you were, impersonating the target of an assassination attempt, wanted for murder, and yet you still didn't understand what you had to be nervous about.

"About...our first mission, on our own," Anakin responded mildly.

"No," you said, the flat tone back in your speech.

"Me neither," Anakin lied, sighing, looking out at the blue of hyperspace and wishing you couldn't read his emotional impressions just now. The truth was, Anakin wasn't nervous about any potential threat you might face—he knew he could protect you from any and all attackers. What was causing Anakin's nerves had nothing to do with the mission at hand, and everything to do with the fact that the two of you were embarking on it alone, and in such a precarious relational state.

"Good," Anakin heard you remark bitterly, "seeing as you didn't want to be here in the first place."

"That's not true," Anakin said quietly, crossing his arms.

"Oh please," you said, and Anakin felt your Force presence slip a bit, a bit of yourself coming out into the atmosphere. "I was there. Obi-Wan had to all but drag you to the ship."

"It isn't because I didn't want to come," Anakin countered, his own voice coming out sounding angry. He took a deep breath, trying to control his impulses, trying to make sure he didn't lose his cool with you yet again.

"Then why?" Anakin paused, wondering if you wanted a real answer.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Anakin uttered. The words hung in the quiet of the ship, the quiet of hyperspace, the two of you zooming across the universe facing in opposite directions.

"You're sorry?" Anakin heard you ask, and he couldn't determine the tone of your voice, couldn't tell whether or not you were receptive to this turn in the conversation.

"Yes. I'm sorry I...I'm sorry I got so angry with you. I'm sorry I've been ignoring you. I don't want the whole mission to be like this, I can't take it." Anakin was losing his cool again, but at least this time what poured out of him was earnest, rather than angry. You seemed to prefer it when Anakin was vulnerable and sincere. He was learning. "I want to go back to being friends."

The following silence was excruciating. How dare you leave these words hanging in the air, without so much as an acknowledgement that you had heard them? Anakin felt himself growing frustrated again. He wanted to shake you, to tell you to spit it out already, to beg you to say something, anything. Instead, he sat quietly, forcing himself to breathe, forcing himself to wait for your response.

"Okay," you said quietly.

"Okay?" Anakin asked, holding his breath.

"Okay," you responded. Anakin heard you sigh.

"So you...accept my apology?" Anakin waited. This silence felt complicated. Anakin couldn't tell what you were thinking.

"Yes," you breathed, and Anakin heard the bump of you leaning your head back against the seat. You were infuriating, with how little you were giving him.

"So will you stop hiding your presence now?" Anakin asked, trying to joke with you, to get you to loosen up, to act like yourself again.

"When I feel like it," you responded sardonically, and Anakin couldn't help but smile.

"I wonder what Levangé will be like," Anakin continued. He wanted to keep you talking, wanted to keep the communication open, at least, for the rest of the many hours you two would be spending in this small ship, facing away from each other.

"I wonder how long we'll be there," you said, your voice pensive.

"I'm sure Obi-Wan and Yuma will find the source of the pursuer dart," Anakin said, reassuringly, "and then we'll be able to put a stop to these separatist attacks all together. Everything will go back to normal."

"Don't you feel it though?" Anakin heard you ask, and as you let out a bit more of your Force presence, Anakin felt the fear behind your words. "The change. The way things seem to be turning...cold. Falling apart."

"Don't talk like that, flea," Anakin said quickly, wanting nothing more than to make the fear in your voice go away, wanting to replace it with other emotions. "This is just another problem, one that the Jedi will solve, in time." There was a period of silence that followed this utterance.

"I hope so," you said, finally, and Anakin felt your uncertainty. He wished he could comfort you, wished so much that he could only turn around and look at you—but you and him were stuck, in your seats in this small ship, facing opposite directions, like two spires pointing forever away from one another. Anakin faced forward, looking ahead; you faced backward, looking at where you'd been.

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Chapter 19: Chapter 19

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

"Y/N! Y/N? Are you awake?"

You were roused from your precarious slumber abruptly, forcing your eyes open, air tugging through your lungs in a loud inhale.

"Sorry," Anakin said softly, "I just...look." The ship had pulled out of hyperspace, and you looked out the side of the viewport at the planet below.

"Woah," was all you could manage. You felt Anakin's Force presence nod in agreement, felt his surprise and wonder at beholding the spectacle below you.

Levangé was one of the most unique planets you'd ever seen, at least from the air. You saw the blue crystalline waters meeting the atmosphere, saw the lush greenery of the many archipelagos littering the planet's surface. And you saw too the weather patterns in the deepest parts of the oceans, the spiraling of the clouds with the flashes of light occurring within. It was a beautiful, violent scene. The stunning peaceful nature of the blue water and the beautiful green islands were far from the threatening looking hurricanes, but the fact was that both of these sights existed, and on the same planet. The multiplicity was breathtaking.

"We're headed right over one of them," Anakin whispered, and you both leaned against your parallel viewports, trying to look down into the eye of one of the great spiraling cloud patterns. It was dark, and it looked as if it could swallow you both whole.

But the ship continued flying, over the dark mass of spinning cloud, away, downward toward the sun-drenched mess of islands on the southern side of the planet. The ship knew where to go. You watched in silence as the trees, the sand, the cliffs, and the ocean grew ever closer.

Though the island was spotted with small dwellings, most with orange tiled roofs, the ship landed in the forest, the landing pad revealing itself only when the ship had descended past the tree line.

As the ship touched down, you felt Anakin's Force presence squirm. You couldn't quite trace the origin of this feeling, but you knew that Anakin felt a distinct change—the before you'd gotten into this ship and the after seemed different worlds, at least between the two of you. As the co*ckpits opened upward, you felt Anakin's feelings contradict each other, felt the feeling of anticipation rise. You wished, suddenly, that you could delay turning around and facing him. But you climbed out of the co*ckpit, lowering the ladder to descend, and found yourself face to face with Anakin.

"After you," Anakin said awkwardly, trying to help you lower the ladder from the Starfighter, brushing your hand with his in the process. He withdrew his hand as fast as lightspeed. You blushed furiously.

"Welcome!" a voice called from below. "Welcome to Levangé, Master Jedi." You climbed down the ladder quickly, finding the greeter to be a pleasant looking middle aged man with dark skin and very short bristly hair.

"Thank you," you told him, reaching out your hand in greeting, "but we are only Padawans."

"Regardlesz," the man said, his accented language flowing freely and smoothly off his tongue, "we are ever so grateful for your presence here. We cannot zank you enough, for putting your own lives at risk in order to keep our senator safe from zese attacks."

You felt Anakin's discomfort at these words as he descended the ladder after you—you were here, after all, not solely for the purpose of keeping Senator Voure out of harm's way, but also to discover the identity behind the attackers. This, you felt, was information that this Levangéan did not need to know.

"I'm Theo," the man continued, "ze 'ouse manager." Theo's accent made these words sound beautiful, even though they were quite plain. "And zese are ze 'andmaidens of ze house, Elodie and Océane." You watched as two timid looking girls stepped out from behind Theo. You gave both a smile, but inside, you were reeling. Handmaidens?

"Let us go inside," Theo continued, his voice warm, as if he had picked up on your discomfort, "so we can talk more about your stay 'ere." You nodded, swallowing loudly. Theo turned and was followed by the handmaidens, walking a small path through the trees away from the landing pad. You went to follow, and felt, in the Force more than through your senses, Anakin's hand reaching out to guide you. He didn't touch you, but the gesture of his hand behind your back as you walked made you feel hot. Or, perhaps it was just the weather here. Even in the sheer gray dress that Master Yuma had picked out for you, you were sweating. The heat, here, it seemed, was all around you. It wasn't just coming from the sun, but was on the air itself.

Theo led the group out of the woods and down steep steps toward a grand house. You shielded your eyes from the sun, and it was only then that you saw it—a vast, shining ocean was before you, so grand in size, so light in color. It was dazzling. And, as far out as you could see, past the horizon, an ominous gray, a darkness beyond the edge of where the sunlight touched.

"Y/N," Anakin said softly, and you looked around, realizing that Theo was holding the door to the house open for you. You blinked, nodding in thanks as you walked through it.

"My apologies zat ze 'ouse is small," Theo said, bowing in return as he pressed the button on the wall to close the door on the forest. "Ze senator's accommodations in ze capital are much grander, but I understand zat ze Jedi would prefer you to stay out of the ze public eye." You heard Theo, but you were having a hard time taking in his words. The house had cream colored walls. It was adorned with light colored, soft-looking seating, beautiful ornamental rugs, and all around you were objects seemingly plucked from the sea; shells of interesting sizes and shapes, shells that must have at one point contained creatures you'd never seen before; and driftwood of all colors, some of which was hanging on the walls; and seaglass, oh the seaglass, every color of it imaginable, piled into crystal bowls, or else draped from the driftwood, hung in strings. The colors permeated the room. And beyond the living room, a dining room with windows looking right out at the sea, over the cliff beneath the house. You saw stairs winding upward, to an upper level.

"It's beautiful," was all you could manage. You, having never had more space than your sparse Padawan room, could not imagine anyone calling this house small. You fingered the seaglass.

"Ze servants 'eadquarters is downstairs," Theo continued, watching your reaction with interest. "Should you need anyzing at all during your stay, you may ring." Theo pointed to a panel on the wall, next to the doorway. "I am told zat ze Jedi would like for you to imitate ze senator's schedule, no?" Theo looked at both you and Anakin expectantly.

"Yes," you choked out, unable to take your eyes off that ocean.

"We feel it is important that Y/N replicate the Senator's behavior," Anakin explained, taking on the authority of the Jedi plural, "as closely as possible, should any eyes be watching."

"Of course," Theo responded, gesturing to the large table off the kitchen. You and Anakin followed and sat down across from him. The handmaidens stood in the corner of the room, still looking diffident. Theo said something smoothly to them in another language, and at his words, Elodie went into the kitchen, busying herself with something.

"Ze senator begins her days in ze southern country wiz a bath," Theo explained. Elodie emerged from the kitchen with a large carafe of something that smelled sweet, as well as cups, and a plate of fruits and other assorted fares. You and Anakin looked at the food and drink with discomfort. You were not used to being served. It felt antithetical to the Jedi way, and you wanted to protest, but you didn’t want to offend these keepers of the house. Plus, you reminded yourself, you were here to impersonate the senator, and she, it seemed, was used to having servants. "Please, drink," Theo said, pouring both you and Anakin cups of whatever was in the carafe. You put the cup to your lips. You'd never tasted anything like this.

"After bathing, ze senator is dressed for ze day by 'er 'andmaidens," Theo continued, gesturing toward the girls, who both stood in the corner again. "Zen, ze senator embarks on one of many activities. Zis is where she comes on 'oliday," Theo said, smiling, and spreading his arms wide. "It is a respite from 'er many duties in ze capital. Thus, we 'ope it will be as comfortable to you as it is to 'er."

You smiled at Theo, hoping to mask your feelings of overwhelm. Not only was this your first mission without Master Yuma; not only were you paired with Anakin, of all people; but you were being asked to behave in a way that was so unusual for a Jedi...it was very overwhelming. You didn't know how to conduct yourself. You took another large gulp of the beverage, in spite of yourself.

"Ze senator enjoys hiking in ze hills," Theo continued, looking up as if to recall the senator's activities. "She enjoys walking ze beach, and swimming, when ze tide is right. She enjoys trips into town, to shop, to eat, to...eh...spend time amongst 'er people." Theo frowned. "I zink it is best if you avoid ze others...as zey might recognize you are not zier beloved senator." You nodded at this, taking another sip.

"I 'ope, in short, zat you will enjoy yourselves 'ere," Theo finished, pouring himself a cup of what was in the carafe. "I admire ze Jedi very much. I 'ope we can repay your service with our kindness."

"Thank you," you said sincerely, looking upon Theo with a sudden burst of admiration. You finished your cup, looking at it with a peculiar eye.

"Nectarwine," Theo said, smiling. "Good, isn't it?" Your eyes widened. You had never before tasted any kind of libation. Today, it seemed, was a day for a lot of firsts.

"You must be tired from ze journey," Theo said, smiling at you and standing up. "Ze senator's suite and ze guestrooms are upstairs. You can take your pick," Theo continued, turning and smiling at Anakin. Anakin had put down his cup, looking at it as if it might explode, and intentionally avoiding your eyes.

"Thank you," you said again, smiling at Theo and standing up yourself. You knew that one cup of nectarwine was not going to harm you, but you couldn't shake this hint of a fuzzy feeling, a feeling you could only compare to the time you'd unintentionally inhaled spice. You blushed at that memory, the memory of you and Anakin on that rooftop, alone, so many years ago...

"Good night," Anakin told Theo, looking at him cautiously. Theo bowed, and then left through the door, headed downstairs with the two handmaidens. You walked slowly toward the staircase leading upward, feeling the silence grow in its intensity. There was no reason for you to be feeling this way, you reminded yourself. The absence of Theo and the handmaidens left you and Anakin alone, sure, but you'd been alone for 11 hours of flight time on that ship. This was no different than that. Right?

You walked up the stairs, Anakin trailing behind you, and tried to force these thoughts out of your mind. It was hard, with Anakin's emotions running so rampant. You still felt a great deal of conflict in him; it was as if he were cautiously regarding every word he said, wanting to control multiple conflicting impulses at every move. It was exhausting to perceive, even from your standpoint.

The two of you reached the second story and headed down a short hallway, toward a set of double doors which you assumed must open to the senator's suite. You pressed the button on the wall panel and the doors opened.

Nothing could have prepared you for this. Not only was the room grand, in size and in splendor; not only was the bed larger and softer than any you'd ever seen, let alone slept in; but the room opened to a large balcony which overlooked the entire ocean in front of you, an ocean that was now meeting a sky of melting colors. The sun was setting.

"Wow," you breathed, walking forward and feeling the wood of the bed. There were plants all about the room, and you fingered the vines, watching a few lizard-shaped creatures crawl across the wall.

"This is..." Anakin said, clearing his throat, as if he didn't know how to put words to a room like this.

"How are we supposed to live like this?" you asked, not expecting an answer. You walked forward to stand on the balcony. It was the most beautiful place you'd ever seen, with your eyes. You felt like you shouldn't be here. It felt wrong, to be sleeping in a bed this magnificent, when there were so many in the galaxy who still suffered to find a safe place to sleep. It wasn't the Jedi way.

"It's our duty," Anakin said, walking out to meet you. "We must do what is expected of us." You turned around, and at meeting Anakin's gaze, the loaded silence from earlier swelled in its density. It was as if the heat in the air were turning it solid; as if you could barely move through it. You gazed into Anakin's eyes, and you felt a tiny voice of panic inside your mind. You were, in every sense, unable to look away. You were trapped in his gaze. You couldn't escape.

The sweet liquid in your stomach churned, and the fuzzy feeling overtook you. You watched Anakin through half-shut lids. You felt out of control of your entire body, looking upon him now. He was the most beautiful place you'd ever seen, without your eyes.

"You must be tired," Anakin said, and the sound broke something in the air. You breathed in quickly, wondering how he'd managed to free you from where you'd been caged. "I'll leave you to get some sleep." At that, Anakin turned and walked quickly from the room, pressing delicately on the door panel as he passed to close the doors behind him. Watching him walk away, you felt every single part of your body call after him, wanting nothing more than for him to stay.

***

"Miss? Are you awake?"

You heard the chime of the girl's accented voice coming from behind the door, and felt the sun streaming in beyond your closed eyelids. For some reason, you found it difficult to open them. You rolled over in the fluffy cocoon of the senator's large bed.

Reluctantly, your eyes opened. You realized by the position of the sun out on the balcony (closed off from you only by a ray shield, one that would shut off automatically from the inside if you chose to walk toward it) that it was mid-morning at the earliest. You sat up quickly, getting out of the large bed and scurrying toward the double doors that led into the room. You had just had the best night of sleep you'd had in your entire life, and you already felt guilty.

"I'm sorry," you said, pressing the door panel quickly. Elodie and Océane walked through quickly, one holding fluffy towels, the other holding a basket.

"We did not wish to wake you," Elodie said timidly, "but, if you are to follow ze senator's schedule...we wish to prepare you your bath, Miss."

"Oh," you said, suddenly feeling awkward. "That won't be necessary, really." If you had hoped to make the girls feel more at ease with your words, it was clear you'd had the opposite effect. You felt the discomfort in Elodie's and Océane's presences grow.

"We—" Océane started, looking to Elodie, searching for words. "We must look after you, while you are to stay 'ere."

"I really—" you responded, flushing, shifting where you stood in the senator's silk pajamas. "I don't need anything, honestly."

"We insist, Miss," Elodie said a bit more firmly, giving Océane a look of assurance. It was now, reading the girls' Force presences, that you finally understood. Asking them not to do their jobs made them as uncomfortable as you felt, being waited on. This was new territory for all of you.

"Okay," you agreed, trying to pacify the handmaidens. "But please—make sure you take plentiful breaks, yes? Only perform the tasks deemed absolutely necessary." Elodie laughed.

"Of course, Miss," Océane said, blushing. You followed the girls into the large refresher, the tub bigger than any you'd ever seen. Elodie placed the towels on a table, and took the basket from Océane's arms. While Océane began to run the bath, Elodie placed a variety of oils, soaps, and cleansing balms on the edge of the tub.

"Let us know when you are finished," Elodie said calmly. "We will wait outside." You nodded at this, still feeling incredibly uncomfortable at being waited on. Once the girls had left the room, you sunk into the hot water, feeling as if all of the pressures you'd accumulated in your muscles—the years of fighting, the scars, the injuries—melted off you immediately.

After your bath, Elodie and Océane dressed you in a light and airy gown of cream colored silk. It had been the simplest of the outfits you'd been able to find among Senator Voure's things, but you still felt uncomfortable, wearing it. It had very thin string-like straps.

Descending the stairs onto the main floor of the house, you felt a nervous energy. You weren't sure if you were the one who felt nervous, or if the feeling was coming from someone else's presence.

"Good morning," you said awkwardly, walking toward the dining area to find Anakin sitting at the table. You heard Theo bustling around the kitchen, into which you could see through an open decorative archway in the cream-colored wall.

"Afternoon, more like," you heard Theo chime from the kitchen, and you blushed. You turned to Anakin to apologize for sleeping so long to find he'd jumped out of his chair, awkwardly. The way he was looking at you was difficult to understand. It was as if something had gotten caught in his Force presence, like a voice getting caught in the throat.

"What are you doing?" you asked him genuinely, and, seeming to try to shake himself out of a trance, Anakin looked around, confused, as if he himself didn't know why he'd stood. He cleared his throat.

"Nice outfit," Anakin said, as if trying to joke, but his face burned a bright crimson color as he sat back down. You didn't know whether to laugh or scream.

"You look wonderful, Miss," Theo said generously, walking out of the kitchen holding a large platter on which you saw lots of different breakfast items, and multiple carafes full of liquid. "Very well-rested."

"Thanks," you said, plopping yourself down into a seat at the table in a way very unbefitting of your current style of dress. Theo began immediately serving you, pouring what looked like caf into a mug before pouring a pinkish juice into another cup. Anakin, still not looking at you, began to help himself to some kind of pastry.

"Have you thought about what you'd like to do today?" Anakin asked when Theo had exited back into the kitchen. "As Senator Voure, I mean." Anakin still seemed to be trying to poke fun, but his Force presence conveyed that he was feeling very conflicted.

"I don't much like this idea," you said quietly, not wanting Theo or your handmaidens to overhear, "of sitting around pretending to vacation, whilst waiting to be attacked. It feels counterproductive."

"It isn't," Anakin said, finally looking at you. "There's nothing we can do, now, but wait." You nodded. He was right, of course, but it still gave you a feeling of unease. "Plus, it makes tactical sense, to get the lay of the land on this planet," Anakin said, drinking a sip of his own caf. "Where should we start?" You smiled.

"I want to swim in that ocean," you said honestly, allowing yourself to let your Force presence out a bit. You weren't trained to desire recreation or luxury. Still, the ocean had been calling to you, in a way, since you'd arrived. Its beauty was unmatched, except, perhaps, by the boy in front of you. But you pushed that thought from your mind. You'd never swam in any body of water like the one outside the window. Anakin smiled at your response, and in spite of yourself, you returned his grin. You took a sip of juice.

"Theo," you called, "is there nectarwine in this?" Theo poked his head out of the kitchen, giving you a wink.

***

Anakin waited while your handmaidens dressed you, again. He wasn't sure why you needed an entirely different outfit to go to the beach, but he supposed this was all a part of the façade, so he didn't say anything. Plus, when you came down the stairs, you were dressed much more practically than you had been, in a flowy see-through one piece romper over what looked like swim garments. It was still colorful and silky, but it was distinctly tunic-like, and Anakin noticed your mood slightly improved.

Theo and the handmaidens were carrying chairs, food, and other items from the house down the path to the beach. Anakin insisted on helping, but Theo wouldn't hear of it. It was as if you and Anakin were the rulers of the house, of the entire galaxy. Anakin had only ever served others, both as a slave and as a Jedi. A part of him felt weird, watching Theo carry things for him. Another part of him—perhaps the child in him—felt this was some kind of strange retribution, for his upbringing. He banished the thought as soon as it entered his Force presence—he didn't want you to know about these deepest parts of himself.

Anakin settled for walking with you down the forested path, the one that let out along the cliffside and eventually descended toward the beach. He'd never seen you look at anything the way you looked at that water—except, perhaps, in those rare moments, when you looked at him as if...

No, Anakin thought firmly. He had made up his mind. He would not try to confess his feelings again, not unless you yourself initiated it. He would wait for you to come to your senses. And, if you never did, at least he would not be deprived of your presence, the way he had been during those weeks of shutting you out. This amount of you—this friendship—was better than nothing, even if it was torture. His resolution was tested every time you had to put on one of the senator's outfits, but he held his decision firm in his mind. He would not ruin things this time, with his impulsive behavior, no matter how beautiful you looked in those...

Anakin shook his head, watching you descend the path to the beach in front of him. It was a small sandy oasis, hidden from the rest of the island by the rock formations surrounding it, but opening out to the vast ocean, clear and still out to the horizon. He saw that Theo and the handmaidens had set up two very comfortable-looking chairs and a table replete with towels, platters of fruit, and more nectarwine.

"They sure do like their wine here," you said, giggling, turning back to Anakin with a grin. Anakin's breath stopped at the sight of you, the sun shining down on your hair, hair that looked clean and shiny, barely resembling its usual unruly state.

"And their sand," Anakin replied, looking down at the ground under his boots with distaste. The sand here was not, he noticed, like the sand on Tatooine—it was fine, and soft, and, most importantly, on the ground, rather than blowing in the air around him.

"What's wrong with sand?" you asked, and Anakin saw that you'd removed your shoes and dug your feet in, dancing forward to the water's edge. You were acting in a way that was so unlike yourself, you who were usually so controlled, so serious.

"I don't like sand," Anakin responded casually, not putting much thought into his words. Truthfully, he just wanted to keep you talking, wanted to keep you happy and free, in this way he'd rarely seen you before. "It's coarse, and rough. And it gets everywhere."

"But when it leads into this!" you responded cheerfully, splashing some of the ocean spray back up in Anakin's direction. He couldn't help but laugh, running forward to splash you back. "The senator's clothes!" you protested, still laughing, and you ran back up to where the chairs had been set, taking off the romper over your swimsuit quickly so as not to get it wet. Anakin felt the need to look away from you. He felt like he might be blinded, somehow, as if looking at you were the same as staring into the suns.

Anakin stood on the beach, watching you swim. He hadn't known you even knew how to swim, and yet here you were in this vast ocean, your head just a dot on the sunny horizon. He wondered how much you remembered of your life on Batuu. You, at least, had the luxury most Jedi had, of being taken at an early enough age that you wouldn't have many firm memories of your childhood. Anakin grimaced. He had been keeping from you, thus far, the fact that his nightmares were beginning to come back—the ones about his mother.

Anakin shook his head firmly to clear it, a habit he'd unconsciously picked up from you. He mustn't think of that just now. Not when he was in such a beautiful place, with you by his side.

When you finally came out of the water, you had a gleam in your eyes. Anakin couldn't help but stare. It wasn't just that you were clean, and wearing beautiful clothes that showed more of your skin; it was that you were so happy. Anakin handed you a towel.

"How come you won't come in?" you asked him, wrapping the towel around yourself and sitting in one of the chairs.

"I don't swim," Anakin lied. The truth was, Anakin didn’t want to let his guard down, even for one second. He wanted to make sure he was watching, at all times, primarily so you wouldn't have to.

"You will," you said forcefully, "before we leave. You have to, Ani, it's so wonderful." Anakin felt his moment of stress melt away, hearing you speak in this tone. He sat down in the chair next to you.

"I didn't know you loved the water," Anakin said quietly, looking over at you.

"I barely remembered, myself," you responded sincerely, watching Anakin.

"Do you...do you remember much?" Anakin asked. "About Batuu?" You looked at him for a moment.

"I usually lie," you said, "and say I don't, especially to Master Yuma. But the truth is, I do. I remember my parents very well. My mom," you continued, looking out at the water. "She taught me to swim. Batuu can be very cold, but in the summer, it warms, and there are rivers, and lakes..." you let your speech drift off, remembering. Anakin watched your eyes move in the familiar way they did when you were thinking of elsewhere. You seemed to come out of your reverie, smiling serenely at Anakin, reaching for the basket on the table between you and pouring two cups of nectarwine.

"You know," Anakin said, smiling, "the high life seems to suit you." You looked up at him in surprise, your eyes flashing for a moment, before you smiled, taking a sip.

"I've wondered, lately," you said, holding your cup and looking at your lap. "How much of my life I've resisted everything—myself, my desires..." Anakin froze. "And it's made very little difference," you continued. "I think it may have been naïve of me...it was like I thought I could save the galaxy, all by myself, by being a certain way...like I thought it was my job, to save everybody, to save the entire republic."

"Who says the republic needs saving?" Anakin asked, watching you curiously. You were being more honest with him than you'd ever been before, and it was thrilling. Anakin felt himself shaking in his tunic, though it was quite warm.

"It doesn't, I suppose," you said, smiling down at your lap. "If it ever does, then I will go back to my old, serious, boring self." You drank more of the nectarwine, while Anakin's glass sat untouched. It was almost worth the attempt on your life, Anakin thought to himself, to get to see you here, now, this happy. Anakin relished this thought for a moment, and then looked up, seeing you watching him. You both laughed.

"You really can be annoying, when you do that," Anakin said, rolling his eyes.

"I can't help it," you said, the smile falling off your face. "I can't turn it off."

"I know," Anakin responded seriously. "Sometimes, though," he said, looking back at you, his smile gracing his face once again, "I wish it were me, with your Force gift. Sometimes I wish I were the one who could read your thoughts."

"I for one am glad you can't," you said, laughing nervously.

"What would I find, though," Anakin asked quietly, leaning forward in his chair, staring into your eyes, "if I could?" You stared back at him, for one moment, before reaching for his glass of nectarwine. Draining it in one gulp, you stood out of your chair, stretched your arms, and then ran back into the ocean, splashing your way from the shallows out toward the horizon.

*****************************

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Chapter 20: Chapter 20

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

You fell into your routine at the shore estate on Levangé much too easily, as if you were falling into some kind of trance, or sleep; you felt as if you were floating in the ocean beneath the house, instead of simply sitting on the deck, hearing the waves. You were moved by the current of this beautiful place, and you felt yourself drifting into a normalcy you never thought you'd feel here, impersonating someone whose life differed so very much from your own. Still, in spite of yourself, you felt as if your real life were somehow fading into memory, saber training and meditation replaced forcefully by the dazzling present, its bright sunlight, days sitting in the sand, the dinners watching the glowing ball fade into the distant horizon.

You awoke each morning and bathed and dressed, with the help of Océane and Elodie—though help on their part had turned primarily into them sitting beside you as you fretted over clothes, enjoying conversation. They told you much about the planet they'd come to know as home—they were sisters, raised in a nearby village they still occasionally went back to visit.

"'Ze next time, you must come wiz us," Océane promised excitedly, sitting on the edge of the bed while you were choosing an outfit for the day.

Each day after you'd dressed and breakfasted, you and Anakin found another spot of your corner of the island to explore. At the beginning, you'd made sure to prioritize taking in the environment for the sake of the mission.

"It will help," you had told him, "if there are any unwanted visitors, for us to know the surrounding areas as well as possible." But though you had devised your mental maps, and made sure to stay alert in order to interpret any change in the Force, you'd found nothing in the areas surrounding the house but the beautiful charm of Levangé. The hills and cliffsides led up into the forest, a jungle that left enough room between trees for small bits of dappled light to shine through. You'd found multiple small beaches near you, all of which were surrounded by rocks that were filled with small ocean wildlife, little creatures of unbelievable shapes you knew were endemic to Levangé. You'd even ventured into the town, heavily disguised, but you'd found nothing but kindly villagers, shops filled with sweets and traditional Levangéan fares. No matter where you looked, the place seemed perfect.

After each day of exploring and enjoying the scenery, you and Anakin would return to the house for dinner. Though at first Theo had simply brought out the food and wine and left you and Anakin to your own conversation, you'd insisted enough that eventually, he began to join you for dinners. Elodie and Océane began to join in as well, and after a couple of weeks at the house, you all began the habit of enjoying lively meals together, full of laughter and debate and friendship. It was unlike anything you'd experienced in your life as a Jedi—though you counted the Jedi as your closest friends, your family, you'd never been able to interact with them in this way, with such freedom, without any inhibitions or mind for the code. You would have been without a care in the world here on this planet if it hadn't been for the thing growing in the Force, the thing you felt get bigger and bigger each day you spent in this lovely place, the thing that refused to go away.

The thing felt like a growth inside of you: it felt like a presence, a Bantha-sized being, a 6^th member of the house sitting at the dinner table. It was invisible, and it never spoke, but it controlled your movements. It made your face flush. It commanded you to look at the person sitting across from you, the beautiful person reaching for the basket of cuanut bread, smiling at Elodie as she spoke. The thing haunted you as you tried to fall asleep at night, and no matter how much you wanted to banish it from your brain, it was insistent. It made you relive every moment of the day, your insides turning into a nebula, your brain spinning.

The worst part of all of it was that, if you were honest with yourself, you didn't want the thing to go away. This large and unwelcome feeling was not only insistent—it was electric. It was every good feeling tied up into an infinitely dense ball that fit neatly into the middle of your torso. It was radiant. It made you feel as if the sun itself lived inside you, and it could shine every day, forever, so long as you were with him.

You'd known that you had...odd feelings for Anakin for a long time, perhaps even from the first time you'd sparred—but those feelings had always been something you had control over, something you knew you couldn't act on. The Jedi Order was your first priority, always. And yet, as you spent these sunny days on Levangé, the Jedi Order seemed to fade into the background. Your feelings began to take over every single one of your thoughts, and you felt as if you no longer had control over them. You were no longer certain about anything.

You woke up on a particularly bright morning with these thoughts at the front of your mind. You'd been dreaming again, you knew. The images faded from behind your eyes, and you let them, blinking, trying to forget the flashing pictures: Anakin laying in the grass, smiling, looking over to you in the sunlight; Anakin laughing with you across the dinner table, catching your eye; Anakin holding your hand; Anakin leaning forward to touch your Padawan braid. You reached with your hands from beneath the sheets, but felt only your loose hair. You knew that you would be back in the Temple at some point, maybe even soon. You knew you'd have your braid back, your Master back, your life back, all very soon. You felt inside you a deep sense of mourning. Sighing, you got up, reaching for the bell that would signal to Elodie and Océane that you were ready for them.

As you walked down the stairs toward the now-familiar dining room table, your feelings of sadness immediately vanished. It was impossible to feel sad with the Force the way it was here, this morning, at that table, surrounding a particularly joyful Padawan.

"Good morning," Anakin greeted you brightly, smiling at you. You felt your legs moving, but they were doing so of their own accord—your mind was fully and completely taken over by Anakin's bright teeth, his face breaking into the joyful crack of the mouth. The sun had tanned Anakin's face, and lightened his hair. The effect, in combination with his blue eyes, was overwhelming. You reached for the chair and pulled yourself into a seat, relieved you'd made it as far as you had without losing the ability to walk.

"Morning," you responded quietly, giving Anakin a small smile. He was still smiling at you, but his eyebrows went up, almost as if he were feeling inquisitive about your mood. You ignored him, reaching for the food that already filled the table.

"Theo has a surprise for us today," Anakin said, quasi-causally.

"A surprise?" you asked, calling toward the kitchen.

"If you are to enjoy all ze beauty Levangé 'as to offer," Theo said, entering the dining room carrying a tray with coffees and the juice and nectarwine he insisted on serving every morning, "'zen you must see even 'ze most secret of places." You raised your eyebrows.

"I thought this house was already supposed to be a secret place," you said, teasing.

"It won't do any good to argue with him," Anakin said, laughing. "I already asked where he wants to take us. He won't tell."

"A little bit of 'ze unknown," Theo said with a wink, "makes life worth living."

***

Anakin brushed the sweat off his brow, following Theo through the thick jungle.

"Just over 'zis 'ill in front of us," Theo explained excitedly. "I 'ave set everything up for you."

"You aren't coming with us?" Anakin heard you ask from behind him, and he turned to regard your face. Something in your presence felt apprehensive today, maybe even a little sad. Thankfully, you had stopped pulling your Force presence back into yourself, and Anakin, at least, had the joy and the relief of feeling your being through the Force, along with rudimentary changes in mood that all Jedi were sensitive to. He knew that, with your gifts, you were doing him a favor by allowing yourself to be felt—or, perhaps, he thought, you were simply finally relaxed enough to focus on how you were feeling, rather than how others might be perceiving you. He wondered if these changes would fade when you both returned to Coruscant. He hoped they wouldn't.

"'Ze day is for you two to enjoy," Theo responded, putting his hands up in front of him. "I 'ave a 'ouse to attend to, you know."

"You know you are welcome to join us, Theo," Anakin told him, though secretly, Anakin wished he would leave. Theo was kind, funny, and lively—Anakin enjoyed his company immensely—but Anakin had relished every moment alone with you he'd been able to savor since landing on this planet. He was eager for more. It felt like everything he'd been waiting for, all his life, to be in this place, alone with you. Anakin made eye contact with Theo, and suddenly, Anakin felt as if this kind man knew his every secret. Theo winked at him.

"No, I must return," Theo insisted. "Ahead of you is one of 'ze island's best kept secrets. You must cherish it." Theo turned and walked back through the jungle in the other direction.

"Luckily, you're good at keeping secrets," Anakin joked, turning to you. You averted your eyes, and Anakin blushed, wiping the sweat off of his forehead again. Suddenly, he felt self-conscious. Still flushed, he turned and led the way over the last ridge, pushing aside large green leaves and holding branches out of the way for you to follow.

"I—" Anakin began, but he cut himself off when both of you reached the clearing. He heard you gasp with pleasure, and suddenly, he wasn't interested in beholding the small valley with the most beautiful waterfall he'd ever seen. He turned away from the water that fell in a rainbow through the sun, turned away from the rocks and the grass and the pool, turned away from the beauty of Levangé, and turned back to look at your face as you beheld the view. You were the most iridescent thing he'd ever seen. Your face was the only place he felt he needed to inhabit, your wide eyes beholding the water the only thing he needed to see ever again, as far as he was concerned. Though the waterfall was beautiful, it paled in comparison.

"This is..." you said, still looking at the water, your eyes gleaming.

"One of Levangé's best kept secrets," Anakin smiled, turning back to the waterfall slightly reluctantly. It was only then that he noticed the picnic blanket and the small table stacked with food and wine, situated in the grass near enough to the waterfall to enjoy its splendor, but far enough away to remain dry.

"Theo really wants us to enjoy Levangé," you said breathlessly, and Anakin noticed the color in your cheeks.

"Well, then, who are we to disappoint him?" Anakin responded, giving you the world's most joyful grin before kicking off his boots, taking off his thin tunic shirt, and running toward the water in only his light cut-off pants. Anakin heard you laugh in delight as he jumped into the pool, his whole body submerged in the cold, his heart warmer than it had been in a long, long time.

The two of you swam in the pool and let your heads get wet under the calmer parts of the stream of water flowing off the cliff above. Anakin watched your smile as you leaned your head back and closed your eyes, feeling the water fall over your hair, and suddenly, he was struck by the knowledge that he needed to remember this moment, forever. He watched you almost maniacally, making sure to take in every detail, making sure he could keep this moment in his mind for as long as he lived, and perhaps even longer than that.

You and Anakin dried off on the picnic blanket, picking at the fruit and trying to guess the names of the birds that sang around you. The Levangéan words sounded beautiful on your tongue, even as you butchered their pronunciation. Anakin poured you wine, which you sipped slowly. Anakin abstained, fingering his lightsaber every so often. Though he felt more comfortable here now than he had when you had first arrived, he still wanted to remain vigilant, especially when you were far from the house.

"I think, sometimes, about how much of the galaxy we have yet to see," you said, sipping your wine and laying on your back, your thin dress covering your swimsuit moving with you. Anakin watched water drip from your hair. "It makes me sad, I guess," you continued, putting your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun. "That we can't ever see all of it, no matter how many missions we go on, no matter how much we try. Can you imagine," you said, turning to face Anakin, "if we'd never been assigned to Levangé? We never would have known this place existed, never would have seen these beaches..."

"No," Anakin replied quietly, watching you, "I can't imagine it."

"But think of how many other places like Levangé there must be," you responded, turning to look at Anakin. The moment your eyes connected, things changed. They always did. "Don't you ever feel unhappy," you continued, "that there are so many places we'll never get to see? So many lives we'll never get to..." you trailed off, looking away.

"Is that why you were feeling sad this morning?" Anakin asked, genuinely curious. As he watched you blush again, he felt you withdraw your Force presence, only a little, as if by reflex.

"Well," you replied slowly, as if choosing your words carefully. "I guess I was thinking about how we'll have to leave, soon...leave Levangé, and Theo, and Elodie and Océane..." You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. Anakin felt you try to push back your sadness, try to calm your thoughts.

"It's okay to feel sad," Anakin told you, taking your arm and giving it a gentle shake. He wished you wouldn't work so hard to hide your emotions. He wished you would feel safe enough with him to express anything you felt, whenever you felt it. "It isn't fair, sometimes" he continued, "this job." At this, you opened your eyes, and looked over at him curiously.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked, turning over and resting your head on your arm.

"I mean, the council shouldn't be able to decide everything," Anakin said, feeling his frustration grow as he thought of them, those self-important Jedi Knights who made decisions for him, for you, for everyone in the order. "We should have a say in where we go, and what we do. I might have chosen this life," he continued, furrowing his brow, "but you didn't. You were practically a baby when they brought you to the Temple."

"I choose the Jedi life every day, Ani," you countered, watching Anakin's face carefully. "I'm not a slave. I choose to live this life, because I believe in what the Jedi stand for, and I believe in using my gifts to help people who need it."

"But think of how much more you could do," Anakin continued, feeling a wry smile on his face. "You, who have gifts that outstrip even your own Master. If you could make the decisions, about where you went, how you chose to help. And me," Anakin said, his anger rising, "both of us, who were born with such talent, but are always beholden to the whim of those who are less powerful than we are...if we could make the decisions, think about how the Republic could change, and for the better."

"No Jedi is all powerful, Ani," you said, sounding resigned.

"No," Anakin said, keeping his true thoughts on this subject to himself, "but there's no power in the universe greater than the power of the Jedi." There was a long silence. Anakin felt your unease.

"Maybe someday we will be on the council," you said, in a pacifying tone, "and we will be responsible for making those kinds of decisions. It sounds hard, to have that much responsibility." You sighed. "I don't know if I would be able to do it."

"You would be able to do it better than anyone," Anakin replied.

"Better even than you?" you asked, smiling, your face alight with competition, an old fire in your presence.

"No," Anakin answered, smiling back. "But better than most people, anyway." You laughed, pushing Anakin's arm.

"I do wish, sometimes," you said, laying back on the picnic blanket, "that we didn't have to leave here. That we didn't have to fight anymore."

"You love fighting," Anakin replied, confused by these words.

"I love fighting you," you responded, and Anakin blushed, feeling in these words a declaration that wasn't on their surface. "And I love fighting Master Yuma. I love practicing, honing my talents. I love the art form," you explained, "that is the lightsaber variations. But fighting bounty hunters, mercenaries, fighting on missions, fighting people in the real world, absent of the constraints of practice, grace, humility..." you shuddered. "It feels like violence that doesn't have a purpose, sometimes."

"You mean to say," Anakin asked, his stomach going cold, "that you would consider leaving the Jedi Order?"

"No," you sighed, closing your eyes again. "I would never leave the Order."

The silence that followed this statement was longer than the last. The birds sang, and the water fell into the pool, raising a mist throughout the clearing in the jungle. Anakin heard bugs buzzing their songs.

"I don't want to leave Levangé, either," Anakin said finally, wanting to break the silence, wanting to hear your voice again.

"But we have to," you answered, your eyes still closed.

"Not yet," Anakin said softly, laying on the blanket beside you and reaching forward to brush a stray hair away from your forehead. At the point of contact, Anakin felt as if his fingertips had been shocked. You opened your eyes and rolled over to look at him, just as the sun broke through the space in the trees. Anakin smiled at you, watching the rainbows that graced off the waterfall collide with the light, obscuring your face.

***

The walk back to the house had been quiet. You and Anakin had stayed near the waterfall until after the sun had set. You had wanted to watch the sky change colors from the valley, wanted to stay in that place as long as you possibly could. You knew in the deepest parts of yourself that you would never return to that waterfall, and before you'd even left, you had felt the loss of it. It was dark by the time you and Anakin had reached the house, and you had slowly made your way up the stairs, bidding Anakin goodnight before you'd come out onto your balcony. Here you stood, looking up at the stars, feeling the tumultuous waves below as if they were inside you.

You couldn't stop yourself from seeing it. Anakin smiling at you in the sun, reaching his hand toward your face. It had been the exact image you'd seen in your dream. You'd lived it twice, once in sleep, once while awake, and it lit your brain like a fire. You couldn't stop the feelings that flooded you now.

While near the waterfall it had taken every strength you'd had not to reach back toward Anakin, to pull yourself closer. You knew you mustn't think this way. You knew that if you gave in to these feelings, there would be no going back—you would not be able, once you closed the gap between Anakin and yourself, to reopen it. You would not be able to push yourself away from him if you allowed yourself to get any closer. And you knew what would happen—you knew that if you allowed yourself this, here on this planet, that your real life, elsewhere, would be shattered. You would not be able to live the life of a Jedi if you were entangled in an attachment as strong as the one you felt forming within you now. You knew that everything you held dear—Master Yuma, the Temple, the Jedi Code, the Jedi Order, all of it—would come crashing down in a burning heap, were you to act on your feelings. And yet, even the weight of that knowledge was barely enough for you to stop yourself from giving in.

The worst part of it was that you knew how Anakin felt. That was the very worst part—that you knew Anakin's every mood change, knew that he felt an immense joy every time you walked into a room, knew that he felt a loss every time you left his presence. You knew his feelings for you were as strong as ever, that they had always been, that they would likely always be—you knew, and you were cursed with the knowledge. To deny him what he so desperately wanted caused you more pain that you would ever admit. And yet you couldn't even sort through that emotion. Everything swirled around you, all of the feelings of others and the feelings inside yourself blurring into one. You couldn't be certain of anything, not even of those things inside yourself. You were terrified by how little it made sense.

You paced the balcony, and suddenly, as if something inside you had pressed the button to jump to lightspeed, you felt yourself walking off the balcony, out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the door to the house. You knew it wasn't wise, to wander off on your own; you knew you were wearing the senator's pajamas, and should anyone discover you now, they would likely find you at your most vulnerable. You didn't even stop to take your saber with you. Still, you didn't think you could sit in that house. You couldn't think through these feelings within the confines of walls. You needed the sky. You needed the sea.

You walked, barefoot, down the path on the cliff to the beach you'd visited your first morning here. You felt the rock on your soles as if it were medicinal—the cool stone calmed you, and when you reached the sand, you sunk your feet in. The moons were lit above you like lanterns, making it so the whole of the beach was cast in blue light, the night sky with its stars setting the scene. All of it slowed your breathing just enough so you could think. You walked forward, allowing your feet and shins to be touched by the waves as they came upward. The senator's small silk nightgown was thin, but you didn't feel cold in this climate. You allowed the salt water to clear your head.

Though you felt calmed, standing here under the moons, the calming effect did nothing to dispel your pain. The scenery only clarified your situation—it took away the storm in your head, but it did not change anything. You still were stuck in this impossible place. You were tasked with denying your own feelings, causing yourself pain. You were tasked with denying Anakin what he wanted, what you both wanted, you could admit—you were tasked with wounding, again and again, so as to preserve your code, your ideals, and your purpose. You knew that your gifts were important to the Republic and to the Order. You knew that your own talent, and Anakin's, made the situation even more dire. The Jedi needed you, and even moreso, they needed Anakin. You must resist, and in resisting yourself, you knew you were likely to feel this pain every day, for the rest of your life, as it would continue to grow. You felt the tears streaming down your cheeks, but they didn't help. The ocean didn't help. Nothing could help you now. You were stuck, and that was that.

You felt the change in the Force before you heard the footsteps, and you turned around, gasping, realizing where you were, how little you were wearing, remembering that you were vulnerable, that didn't have your weapon. But the figure you saw stepping down onto the sand was not an enemy.

"Y/N?" Anakin called, hurrying toward you, but stopping a few feet short of where you stood with your feet in the waves. "What are you doing? I felt—I felt your presence change—"

You watched Anakin, realizing how you must look, out here on this beach in the night, tears streaming down your face, your hair wild, your shoulders bare. You had neglected to pull your presence into yourself. In your agony, in the strength of your feeling, it hadn't seemed important.

"I—" you started, your voice cracking, but as you looked up at Anakin, you realized you had nothing to say to explain yourself. You could offer him no lies that would make sense, and it felt as if the two of you were beyond that now, anyway. You said nothing. You turned and looked over your shoulder, out at the moons, out at the horizon.

"Little flea?" Anakin asked again, tenderly, taking a step toward you, but looking as if he were quite as lost for words as you were. "Are you all right?"

You turned back to look at him, only for a moment—only to take in how the sky was the same color as his eyes, right now, in this low blue light. The moment of silence passed between you, and you allowed it. You then stepped forward, looking away, walking past him, walking up to the path and heading back toward the house. You heard him following you, but you both said nothing.

*****************************

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Chapter 21: Chapter 21

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

Anakin opened his eyes. He knew he must have drifted off to sleep at some point, but he felt as if he'd been in this position, stewing on these thoughts, all night. He sighed, sitting up in the fluffy guest bed.

When he'd felt your presence shift the previous night, he had been sure something was horribly wrong. Perhaps someone had found you, he'd thought, mistaken you for the senator, attempted an attack on your life. But when he had descended the path to the beach, he'd seen a look in your eyes that both calmed and unnerved him. It was clear that you were still safe here, for the time being—but the look he'd seen on your face was one he associated with the way you used to look, as a youngling. He remembered the first time you'd sparred—how your face had looked after he had beat you. He remembered the look in your eyes when Dallum had teased you. He remembered, now, entering a training room to find you in tears, sitting beside Master Yuma, refusing to look at him. In all of these instances, what he'd seen in your eyes was true fear. It was a despairing look, conveying a hopelessness he didn't understand. You never exhibited fear like this when you were physically threatened. What was causing you to be so fearful now?

How he had wanted to take you into his arms, then! You, in the senator's nightgown, looking so sad and scared on that beach. It had taken everything in Anakin not to pull you to him then. He had managed to resist, only because of his commitment to himself—he would not try to force his feelings out into the open, would not push you in a direction you were not ready to go. He didn't want you to distance yourself from him again. And yet, it had seemed almost as if you'd needed him to. You'd looked confused, sad, and scared, like a little kid that was lost, a child that needed to find the way home.

It was these thoughts on which Anakin dwelled while he quickly visited the refresher and donned a fresh tunic. It was so hot here, he rarely needed his full Jedi layers—he wore only a thin tunic with his saber belt. He descended the stairs and greeted Theo, trying to feel outward with the Force, to gather whether you were awake. He felt nothing but a quiet softness, as if the whole house and all its surfaces had somehow become fuzzier overnight. Anakin frowned as he sat down for breakfast. Were the birds singing more sweetly than they had been yesterday morning? It was a beautiful day, that much was certain. The sun was streaming through the open doors, exposing the larger balcony that jutted from the main floor of the house. It must just be the beautiful day, Anakin thought, as he helped himself to some caf.

After waiting at the dining room table for what felt like hours, surrounded by breakfast and trying in vain to hide his anxiety in order to make polite conversation with Theo, Anakin heard you descending the stairs with Elodie and Océane. He found himself clumsily standing up, yet again.

"Good morning, Y/N," Anakin said anxiously, trying to read your face. Your Force presence was not to be sensed. Still, you smiled at Anakin, and it was not the polite, controlled smile you donned when you were trying to hide your feelings. It was a genuine smile, but complicated—it contained multitudes. It was soft around the edges, but within it, there was something burning, something stronger than a star.

"Good morning," you replied, and you sat, inviting your handmaidens to join you.

"We were diszcussing," Elodie started, glancing between you and Anakin, an indulgent smile on her face, "'ze ridge trail. It is a bit of a 'ike, yes, but it 'as 'ze most beautiful views on 'zis side of 'ze island, and—"

"It sounds lovely, Elodie," you cut her off, but kindly continued. "Won't you and Océane join us? And Theo, you too—we could make a day of it." There was an odd undercurrent in the air, as if your words were fighting something, a sealed pact, an understanding in the Force.

"'Zank you, my dear, for 'ze invitation," Theo answered, smiling warmly and pouring you a cup of caf. "But we 'ave work to do, today. Perhaps ano'zer time." Elodie and Océane nodded quickly in agreement, and Anakin thought he heard Océane stifle a giggle.

"It sounds pretty," Anakin said, trying and failing to read the room. He remembered, of course, that you must be much more aware of the nature of the undercurrent passing around the table than he was, and it was perhaps this that was causing your cheeks to burn red. "If you're up for it, Y/N?"

You looked up at Anakin, and both of you silently acknowledged what had passed between you the previous night. Anakin had not meant this to sound like a challenge—he genuinely wondered if you were up for a trek, today of all days. But he saw in your face a hint of defiance.

"Of course," you said, breezily. "Why not?"

***

The silence was loaded while you climbed through the forest, but not uncomfortable. It was odd—though you and Anakin were at perhaps the most difficult of places, relationally, you'd never been so at ease around one another. It was as if your bodies moved around each other like planets, as if you were pulled, comfortably, by gravity. Perhaps it was all this uninterrupted time together, or maybe it was the absence of your Masters and the other Jedi that made it so much easier, so much more natural to be in his presence. Either way, you felt the pressure of your own feelings growing at quite a pace, like a magnet pulling you toward Anakin, and you wondered if you would be strong enough to keep your presence hidden today. From the moment you'd met his eyes last night, under the moon, you'd felt a current running through you that you didn't feel able to halt. This scared you—thus far in your journey as a Jedi, when you'd gained a new skill, you'd never again had trouble with it. Were you losing your ability to hide yourself? Or were you only losing it with Anakin?

Anakin, though silently climbing the trail ahead of you, was also ruminating on these same things: your relationship, your feelings, why he had found you outside by the ocean, why you were afraid—

The fact that Anakin had picked up on your fear troubled you. It seemed that Anakin was, like Master Yuma, honing an ability to read your moods without using the Force. You could admit that Anakin knew you better now, knew you better with every new challenge the both of you faced. Since you'd come to Levangé, you'd spent so many hours in conversation, and you'd shared yourself more with him than you had with anyone, at least in the verbal sense. You felt the pressure of your feelings inside you grow even more. The beautiful day seemed to shine more brightly around you, as if the fresh air were having an intoxicating effect. Your confusion swirled around, as if the nonexistent breeze could be felt only in your mind. You sighed.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Anakin said, stopping to hold a long clump of tangled vines out of your way.

"Do what?" you asked, not sure exactly what he meant.

"Pull your Force presence back, as if you need a tactical advantage." Though Anakin was working to keep his voice calm, a hint of bitterness came through in this statement. "As if you regard me as an enemy to be faced," he continued, waiting for you to walk forward before letting the vines drop back into place. "As if I were trying to attack you."

"I'm sorry," you said, waiting for him to come and walk beside you on the trail. You looked down at your flowy pants, one of the only hiking-friendly outfits Senator Voure had given you to wear. They were actually quite pretty, you thought.

"Why do you do it?" Anakin asked quietly, the bitter tone gone from his voice, replaced by a vulnerability that hadn't been there before.

"I don't always do it on purpose," you answered truthfully, breathing quickly. You didn't know how to explain to Anakin that it was much easier for you to face an enemy than to face him—that he had the power to do much more damage to you and your feelings than any enemy ever would.

"Now, though," Anakin said, looking back to you as he once again took the lead on the path. "Why do you hide yourself now?"

This was a harder question to answer. As you considered your words, the tension in the air grew around you. It became harder to breathe, and you knew it wasn't the incline. As you kept walking, you focused on the back of Anakin's head, but this didn't help. Looking at the place where his hair met the back of his neck caused your breath to get caught in your throat. You sputtered.

"Y/N?" Anakin turned around, stopping, putting his hands up to your arms.

"I'm fine," you breathed, looking up at him, starting to feel the slightest bit dizzy.

"Did you sleep?" Anakin asked quietly, looking into your eyes.

"Only a little," you said, honestly, looking up at him only for a moment. You had a ways to go up this hill—you couldn't lose yourself in his eyes completely.

"Me too," Anakin answered, dropping his hands as if he felt slightly ashamed. You didn't understand this tremor through the Force. Why should he feel ashamed?

The two of you continued to climb the trail side by side. Occasionally the pathway would narrow, and Anakin would jump ahead of you, trying to hold branches out of your way. It was so pointless. You were just as capable of moving a branch to the side as Anakin was. But it was full of the same feeling you felt in him when he stood up to welcome you to the table. It was not competitive, or insulting. It was soft.

You felt this texture in the Force as if it were surrounding the walkway. Every step you took felt like a step into a pillow. The brightness of the day felt like it softened only for the two of you. You were swept into it unwillingly, but it felt like the sweetest melody, like sinking into a lovely dream, even though you were awake. It seemed the more your feelings grew, the less you understood them.

The trail widened as you climbed, and suddenly, in your soft silence, you and Anakin found yourself at the peak, a stretch of rock that jutted out over a mountain cliff. You sucked your breath in—the view was, in every way, breathtaking. The hills of jungle tumbled beneath you, and you could see, far below you, the town, and the stretches of sea. The dark storm clouds far out on the horizon hung, as if they were a reminder. You turned away from them.

"This is...wonderful," you said, looking to take in Anakin's reaction to the view. But he wasn't looking out over the cliffside—he was looking directly at you, looking as if he were happier than he'd ever been. You held your breath.

"It is wonderful," Anakin said, taking a step toward you, his eyebrows wrinkling. "I hope you can enjoy it, Y/N." He looked down, standing directly in front of you, and you looked down too, watching both of your swinging arms. The softness threatened to enclose you, to suffocate you, but in the kindest way. "I don't want to make you feel afraid," Anakin admitted, and his voice sounded pained. You looked up at his face. "I don't understand," he puzzled, looking up at you with an intensity in his eyes. "I just want to understand."

The pain in Anakin's voice released something in you. You realized, now, that you weren't losing control—it was only that a different part of you, the part with the feelings pressing outward on your insides, was starting to take over. This part of you was starting to bleed through your Force block, and though you tried to keep a hold on your presence, it began to slip outward in streaks. You couldn't look away from Anakin's eyes.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, repeating yourself, and you meant it. The leaks in your presence grew larger, and more and more of you began to slip out into the air. Anakin breathed in.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, leaning in close to your face, looking concerned. You swallowed, trying to keep yourself hidden—but the moment Anakin breathed out, and his breath glanced over your face, it was as if your entire being were reversed. Outside for inside. You didn't just let your presence out into the air—you forced it out, pushing outward, all of your feelings forcibly imprinted into Anakin's mind. You gasped.

Anakin shook his head, widening his eyes, trying to make sense of the flood of contradicting feelings, images, and moods he must have just felt from you.

"Y/N..." Anakin let out breathily, looking at your face in fear and wonder, taking your hand in his. And in this moment, you knew that whatever part of you had been trying to hide no longer had control. The magnets that pulled you did the bidding of that part inside yourself that felt everything: that part that had no mind for consequences. You leaned forward.

You were conscious of it, yes—it was just that you had no ability to stop yourself, and no desire to. You leaned your head forward and, as if it were as automatic as breathing, you reached your hands around Anakin's neck. Before you could stop yourself, your faces were right next to each other, and you were slowly pressing your lips against his.

Anakin responded so enthusiastically, you might have pulled away from him, had you had the ability to create any distance between the two of you. But you knew from the moment your lips made contact that you couldn't pull away. You didn't want to. Anakin pressed his lips to yours with a joy so forceful and so pure it could have been coming from a star itself. That's what you were, the two of you, standing here on this cliff peak, looking out over the southern islands of Levangé; you were two stars, meeting each other again for the first time since your primordial beginnings. Anakin wrapped his hands around your face, weaving his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer to him, and you obliged, pressing your body against his. As Anakin opened his mouth slowly to yours, you felt as if you'd entered another realm. In this realm you were being told a story: the twists and turns of the kiss you lost yourself in were planned by some being, somewhere, something that held the both of you in its grasp. You entered this labyrinth willingly, enthusiastically, ready to get lost in its storytelling forever. As you moved around Anakin, you saw new colors you'd never seen before. You learned to interpret the new feelings as they came and went. Anakin moved his hands down your back and to your waist, pressing you closer, as if he wanted the two of you to become one, finally. You assisted him in this effort. You wondered if the two of you had ever really been separate.

You continued to kiss Anakin for an unknowable amount of time—you were not beholden, you realized, to such shallow entities as time and space. In this kiss you followed him into dark corners, down spiraling pathways, into new lands, all the while enjoying the company, feeling his mouth moving against yours. You felt his joy and realized in that moment that it was matched only by yours.

It was only when you felt a few drops of rain hit your cheek that you remembered where you were—that you remembered you were on Levangé, standing on the top of a cliff trail, with Anakin, your friend, the Padawan, the Jedi. You broke apart from Anakin slowly, confused. You felt as if you were emerging from deep, warm water; or as if you were waking up after a long nap, waking somewhere different than where you'd fallen asleep. You blinked, watching Anakin's joyful face looking at yours. He held you, still, around the waist, your hands on his cheeks. You breathed in, and the rain started coming harder.

It was only then that you realized what you'd done. That you realized the contract you had violated. The choice you had made, a choice that put into jeopardy everything you'd come to know as important: the Jedi code, and Master Yuma, and Anakin, especially Anakin, his hopes and dreams for the future. You'd betrayed them all. You'd failed all of them. Your eyes widened.

"Y/N..." Anakin said slowly, watching your face. You breathed quickly, dropping your hands, taking a step away from him. His arms dropped to allow you the space. You heaved your breath in and out, in and out, but it didn't help. The rain started pouring down harder.

"Y/N!" Anakin said more loudly, but it was too late. You were already running, running back away from the beautiful cliff, running down the path. You kept running, even though the branches and vines were in your way, were cutting your arms and face as you ran through them. "Y/N!" you heard Anakin calling from behind, but you didn't turn. You heard Anakin running behind you, trying to catch up, but you kept going. You felt as if you could keep running forever—felt as if you might have to keep going until you reached the edge of the galaxy, keep going until you reached the next.

After what felt like an eternity, you reached the edge of the jungle, saw the house with its lit windows in front of you. The rain was pouring harder now, and you stood, breathing for a moment, before you pressed the panel on the doorframe hurriedly, opening the door with your handprint.

The quiet of the dry, beautiful house felt wrong compared to the cacophony in your head and heart. Theo, Elodie, and Océane were nowhere to be found—you had the sneaking suspicion that they'd vacated the premises, temporarily, given their thoughts at breakfast this morning. All the better. They didn't need to witness this. You stood in the living room, shivering, soaking wet. You saw that the fire in the fireplace was lit, casting warmth throughout the house. You looked down at your arms, saw the cuts and bruises you'd acquired from the branches on your way down the hill.

"Y/N," you heard Anakin plead, and you turned, seeing him entering through the front door, his hair soaking wet. He walked straight for you and held your arms, looking at the cuts on your face. You were shaking your head; in response to what, you didn't know.

"Y/N," Anakin said, keeping your arms firmly in his hands, looking you straight in the face. You wouldn't have been able to look away even if you'd tried—the intensity in his blue eyes was a whirlpool, sucking you in with the storm. "Y/N, I'm in love with you. I love you. You know I do." Anakin moved his hands up to your face, holding both sides of your head gently. You felt the hot tears hit your cold cheeks as you continued shaking your head.

"I have loved you from the moment I first saw you," Anakin continued, holding your gaze as firmly as he held your face in his hands. "Every single day since then, whether we've been together or apart, I have loved you. I have thought only of you."

"Ani," you pleaded softly, feeling your tears coming hot and fast.

"You are what ties me to the universe," Anakin stated firmly, "you are my reason for existing." You cried softly, watching Anakin's face, feeling your whole body shaking as he uttered these words he had kept inside of him for so long. "And I'm in agony," Anakin said softly, trembling, his eyes filling with water. "You are inside my very soul, tormenting me."

"Ani," you said again, feeling your shoulders shaking as Anakin held them in place, wanting to look away from his blue eyes, wanting not to see how vibrant they were when full of tears.

"I can't live another day without knowing how you feel," Anakin said, giving your shoulders a gentle shake before releasing you, as if trying to hold back. "Please, if you are suffering as I am, please tell me."

You breathed, trying to control the tears streaming down your cheeks. You felt as if you'd needed Anakin's arms to anchor you, and now that they were gone, you were worried you might crumple to the floor.

"Anakin, we can't," you begged, finally looking down at your feet, trying to stay upright. "We can't do this, it's against the code...we'd have to leave, we'd have to give up everything."

"No," Anakin said, shaking his head, looking back and forth as if searching for the right words. "No we wouldn't, Y/N. There are other options."

"There are no other options," you sobbed, "there are no options."

"That can't be true," Anakin pleaded tenderly, watching your pain and reaching out for you, trying to stroke your arm. "They can't control our every move." You cried, and he kept his distance, one arm toward you, the space between you always infinite. You tried to breathe, tried to calm yourself down, but it did little good.

"Did you know," you breathed desperately, "that on the very first day we met, I couldn't help myself from thinking of my mother?" Anakin looked confused at this sudden turn in the conversation. "My thoughts dwelled on her all day," you continued, "before I'd even seen you—your emotions became my emotions, even then."

"So you're saying—"

"I'm saying I don't know what's real. I don't know how to distinguish my own feelings from those I read in others." You looked at the fire, feeling a sense of inevitable tragedy.

"What do you feel?" Anakin asked anxiously, looking at you as if he wouldn't have eyes if he tried to look at anything else.

"What does it matter? Who's to say I'm the one feeling anything?" Your dejected words punctured the air. The softness around you hardened into stone. You felt trapped in it.

"You don’t have to push me away," Anakin said desperately, taking another step toward you, gently pushing on your face to try to turn you away from the fire. "We can figure this out, together. What can I do? I will do anything you ask."

These last words hung in the air for a long time. You focused on taking air into your lungs and pushing it out. No matter what was said tonight, you were still alive, you reminded yourself. You still had an obligation to breathe, even if the world ended in every other sense. You were still a body that needed to live, even if the world turned fully dark.

"We can't, Ani," you said, and your words sounded as if they weren't real, like they were uttered by someone else, somewhere far away. Anakin looked hard at your face.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Anakin asked. The tone of his voice broke you into a thousand pieces.

“Isn’t there a small part of you that feels like it’s wrong?” you asked, fearful, looking up into Anakin's eyes. Anakin let go of your arms.

“That was the least wrong thing I’ve ever done,” Anakin said firmly, with conviction, a hardness crossing his face. You both stood there, for a moment longer, looking at each other. After a pause, Anakin turned away from you, walking up the stairs. You sank onto the couch, putting your head into your hands to cry.

***

You fell asleep that night and couldn't stop sleeping. Unlike the previous night, when you'd laid awake for hours, stressing over your thoughts, sleep this night, after all that had happened, became like a prison your consciousness sent your body to. You tossed and turned, felt the sun on your face, and knew it must be at least midday, but you couldn't bring yourself to rise. Your whole body ached, and you knew it wasn't because of the hike. The memories floated through you in that state between sleep and awake, and you knew. Yesterday had been the day everything changed. You had no desire to face this morning, this new day that would signal the new after. You didn't want to know what your life would be like from here on out. You couldn't think, couldn't move. All you could do was lie here and allow your sadness to sweep over you.

"Y/N," you heard a voice say after an immeasurable amount of time. "Y/N? Are you all right?" You blearily tried to open one eye, and then the other. Elodie was standing over your bed, looking down at you, concern etched into her face.

"I'm fine," you tried to say, but your voice wasn't working. You pulled your blankets up over your head, even though it was clearly the afternoon, and it was quite warm in the sun.

"Y/N," you heard Océane pipe in quietly. Sighing, you took the blankets off your face.

"What 'appened?" Elodie asked, her eyebrows upturned in worry.

"I don’t want to talk about it," you tried to say, but the words only half came out of you. You cleared your throat. You had already cried enough—you certainly didn't need to do more crying in front of Elodie and Océane.

"But you're covered in cuts!" Océane protested, pointing to your arms and face. Oh. Right. Of course, in your hurry to get away from the one thing you wanted more than anything in the world, you'd managed to injure yourself. Sounded right to you.

You sat up, dejectedly, and allowed Elodie and Océane to fetch the first aid kit. As they dabbed the healing liquids onto each of your cuts, you let the sting move through your body. You deserved it, you thought. You'd failed to keep to your ideals, and you'd also failed to keep from hurting Anakin. You were a failure.

After the girls helped you to dress—another beautiful gown, adding to the unreality you felt this morning—you descended the stairs slowly, afraid of what you might find. You turned the corner into the living room.

The dining room table was empty, seeing as it was the middle of the afternoon. Theo came rushing out of the kitchen.

"My dear," Theo said, looking you over, then trying to compose his face. "I will bring out some food for you, yes? Some wine? What can I do—"

"No," you said, cutting him off, looking around you quickly, not wanting to hear his fawning. What these house servants must think of you, or what they suspected had happened yesterday, you didn't want to know. "I'm not hungry. Where's Anakin?" You fumbled trying to say his name.

Theo gave you a long, hard look, as if trying to decide whether or not to say what was really on his mind. In the end, he seemed to decide against it. He jerked his head to the side of the house, indicating that Anakin had exited toward the beach path. You nodded.

Best to get it over with now, you thought, leaving the house and walking out toward the beach cliffs. Whatever happened next, you wanted more than anything to avoid the long weeks of silence you and Anakin had suffered after his last attempted confession. Your breath came quickly, but you worked hard to control yourself.

You found him on a landing not far down the path, a small bit of rock that looked out over the crashing waves below. He was looking out at the water, his hands behind his back, in meditation. As you approached, you felt a tremor through the Force, his acknowledgement of your presence. And you felt his agony, his despair, all of these feelings you had come to know from him—but there was something more today, something you couldn't put your finger on. You had expected Anakin's negative feelings to be more pronounced this morning, given what had happened yesterday. Still, there was something else hovering in the center of his thoughts. Along with his confusion and grief surrounding you, there was confusion and grief surrounding something else entirely. This puzzled you.

"Ani?" you asked, taking a tentative step toward him. He turned. "I'm sorry," you said quickly, "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You aren't disturbing me," Anakin replied, and he looked you in the eye and gave you a polite smile. It was this smile that broke you—none of it reached down into Anakin's presence, into his actual feelings. It was as if his smile were made of glass: it was fake, and only there for your benefit. Underneath it, the storm tossed around, and you tried to sort through the images and feelings you felt coming from your friend.

"Ani, what's—" you started to ask, but Anakin was walking toward you, reaching out and taking your arm gently.

"Some of these cuts and bruises look bad," Anakin said, and you felt from him a discomfort you couldn't fully place. "We should get you inside and get the medical pack."

"The girls already took care of it," you said, shoving Anakin off gently. "Ani, what's wrong? Something—something's changed." As you said these words, you winced as Anakin relived his feelings from the previous night. Then his mind jumped to his dreams, and suddenly, you understood. "You had another nightmare last night?" you prodded. Anakin said nothing, but turned his head, looking back in the direction of the house. You remembered with him the images from the nightmare—full of fear, the beautiful brunette woman you remembered seeing in his other dreams being tied up and tortured. You breathed in. "Your mother?" you asked, looking Anakin in the face. He nodded.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Anakin said shortly, and it looked like every word he said was causing him pain. "I have to go. I have to go to her. I can't complete the mission."

"I'll go with you!" you said quickly, taking Anakin's hand without thinking about it. Anakin looked at the ground.

"I don't understand why—"

But suddenly everything changed. Suddenly the Force was alight with a tension so insidious, you felt your brain kick into a higher gear. Anakin pulled his lightsaber out just in time, as a man on a speeder bike blew past the house and started shooting at the both of you. You dove out of the way.

"Ani!" you cried, but as you tumbled you saw Anakin blocking the shots from the speeder deftly. You drew your lightsaber quickly. The man seemed familiar as the speeder bike blew past you, and Anakin turned to follow it.

You realized what would happen before it did, and you turned just in time, your lightsaber clashing with bullets fired from a second blaster out of sight. You breathed quickly, relying on your reflexes.

"You're not a senator," you heard a malevolent voice say, as a hooded figure jumped over to your other side, firing blasts at you continuously. You blocked them, turning to face your attacker. You knew that voice.

"You," you said, watching the hood fall off to reveal the face of the woman with violet eyes, the woman you'd first seen on Serenno. You blocked her blast again, sending the bullet back at her, but she jumped out of the way. You then saw her quickly doing something with her hands. This confused you. It took you a moment to realize she was signing.

"Y/N!" you heard Anakin yell, and you looked around. Anakin was chasing the familiar-looking man—the bounty hunter you had attacked on Coruscant, the man you had left with fewer fingers. You saw the woman sign again.

"A decoy!" she said aloud, and she turned, jumping on the back of the man's speeder bike and heading back up the path. You followed, with Anakin behind you. You needed to apprehend them. The whole mission depended on it.

When you reached the top of the hill, you saw a larger ship emerging from behind the trees.

"They're getting away!" you yelled to Anakin, and as you turned, you felt you were watching it in slow motion. Anakin took a running leap, leaping higher than any normal human would have been able, and caught hold of the landing gear as it was closing.

"Ani!" you screamed, watching him hanging from the ship as it flew away, toward the ocean. You turned without a second thought, heading for your own ship. You had to get him back.

**********************************

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Chapter 22: Chapter 22

Chapter Text

Chapter 22

As you pulled yourself into the pilot's seat and jammed your hand against the button to close the co*ckpit, you urged your body to move faster, even though it felt paralyzed by fear. What was wrong with you? You'd chased bounty hunters countless times. The adrenaline and panic coursing through you now felt new, and it terrified you, but all you could do was push it aside and try to control your shaking hands as you pulled the ship above the trees. As you flew after the enemy's ship—the ship Anakin was still clinging to—you looked down and saw Theo running out onto the house's deck, his petrified face becoming smaller and smaller in your view as you zoomed forward. You could still see the bounty hunter's ship, but it was far in front of you, and you couldn't tell exactly what was happening with just your eyes.

"Ani? Anakin, do you copy?" you yelled frantically into the comm channel.

"A little busy!" you heard him grunt back, amidst the humming of a lightsaber and the sound of an engine.

"I'm on your tail," you told him, trying to calm your heart that felt like it was beating out of your chest. What was happening to you? A major tenet of the Jedi religion was the ability to remain calm while in the face of danger. You'd never struggled with this before—you'd always been able to snap into focus when duty called. Why was your blood pumping like this? Why couldn't you stop the tendrils of fear from wrapping around your heart, strangling you from within? You breathed, following the ship above the vast ocean. You were so focused on the ship in front of you, you almost didn't notice the sky beginning to darken.

"Anakin, the storm!" you yelled into the comm, but it was too late. You'd flown away from the sunny seashore, away from the island, toward the storming you'd only been able to see from space, one of the hurricanes in the middle of the ocean. You watched the enemy ship, with the lightsaber-bearing figure huddled on top of it, plunge into the dark clouds.

"ANI!" you screamed, but you got no response. You urged your shaking hands to fly steady, taking a deep breath. "I am one with the Force," you told yourself, gripping the flight controls tightly. "The Force is with me."

You lurched the ship right into the storm. Immediately, you lost control—the flight controls moved this way and that, and you tried in vain to pull them in the right direction, in any direction. You felt the ship tip to the side, at the mercy of the winds and the rain. You couldn't see anything—everything was dark, but for a moment when, far ahead of you, you saw a dramatic strike of lightning illuminate the cloud.

"Anakin," you nervously asked the comm, but you knew it was no use. There was no way the frequency of the signal would be able to travel through this. You blinked back tears, thinking quickly as the ship rocked back and forth. You closed your eyes.

Putting your hands on the ship's control panel, you breathed deeply. You felt the mechanism beneath you, felt outward, feeling the wind, the storm, the atmosphere. You took a moment, letting the forces of the earth acknowledge you, your ship, your passing. Slowly, carefully, you listened with the Force until you felt the edges of the storm, understood its every current, its every moving part.

"Help me find him," you asked the ship, taking the controls with your hands, your eyes still closed. You anticipated every gust of wind before it occurred. You felt through the cloud, using your instincts, slowly riding the storm until you found what you were looking for. Your eyes shot open.

The enemies' ship was there, beneath you, but it was falling—plunging toward the tossing sea. You guided your ship downward, toward the ship falling in a spiral. You didn't see Anakin anywhere—you could barely see anything.

"Please," you begged—what you were asking for, and whom you were asking, you didn't know. You flew downward, engaging the tractor magnet on the bottom of your ship. Just a little closer, you urged, biting your lip in concentration, willing the enemy ship closer to yours through the Force. Finally, you heard the clank. The ship was attached.

"Y/N!" you heard through the comms, a crackling sound drowning out whatever else was said. Relief flooded through your body.

"Ani," you breathed, allowing the ship to guide you upward.

"Y/N, listen to—" you heard, the crackling increasing, causing Anakin's voice to come in and out of the ship's comm. "Fly out of—" he continued, "—in the storm."

"Don't worry, Ani," you answered calmly, "I've got this." You breathed in the Force, following the wind currents.

"Y/N, no—" Anakin shouted, but whatever he said next was cut by the crackling. You felt the disturbance, but it was too late. Something hit the side of the ship, hard, something that caused the glass around the co*ckpit to crack, though the glass held, for now. As you spun out of control, the enemy's ship attached to yours, a strike of lightning illuminated the scene, and you saw it—a tentacle, larger than the storm itself, sliding back down toward the water below.

"What is that?!" you screeched, pulling on the ship's controls.

"Giant—" crackled through the comm, but you didn't need to know the thing's name. You pulled up as hard as you could, urging the ship away from the grasp of the beast, but it was no use. Another tentacle slammed into you, wrapping around the ship, pulling you down, down towards the head.

"Y/N!" you heard through the comm, but the voice sounded farther away. You breathed. You felt something—a presence. It was angry.

"It...it's creating the storm," you said, disbelieving, feeling the giant monster thrashing around you, its anger hitting the surface of the water, like giant hands splashing. You heard Anakin's voice, but didn't register what he'd said. You were falling deeper into the presence of the beast, and you felt your consciousness acknowledged.

The way you communicated with the creature was not with words. It was a fascinating experience. You forgot, for a moment, where you were, forgot that you and Anakin were in danger. The creature's mind was unlike that of any animal or alien you'd ever encountered. The creature didn't only keep its brain in its head—you felt the mind and emotions in every tentacle, including the one wrapped around your ship. It was with this mind that you pleaded. You felt that the creature was angry, but also that it didn't have a reason—rather, this anger felt like it was a natural process, a seasonal cycle. As you waded deeper into the creature's emotions, you felt primarily that the tentacled beast was curious about you. It was unfamiliar with your kind, you found—it had never encountered another being like you, in the Force. It was clear that this beast, whatever it was, was strong in the Force. You asked it, respectfully, in its language. Please. You pleaded with it to conclude its thrashing, to stop making its storm, only for a moment. You found the being confused by this request. It didn't seem to understand that you were in danger, in its throes.

"Y/N!" you heard through the comm. "Y/N, please, please, are you okay? Are you there?" The urgency in Anakin's voice pulled you back to the present, and it gave you a burst of feeling deep in your gut. It was this feeling, you suddenly knew, that communicated your reasoning to the creature that held you in its grasp. The creature knew the feeling coursing through you now. You felt the ship suddenly freed from its tentacle prison. Your eyes burst open.

"I'm here," you told Anakin through the comm, as you saw the tentacles lowering into the sea and the dark electric cloud around you starting to disperse. "Everything's all right."

"What's happening to the storm?" Anakin asked, the comm channel clearing with the cloud.

"It would take too long to explain," you smiled, pulling the ship forward and back toward the island.

***

You pulled yourself up out of the co*ckpit, looking around at the forest clearing where you'd awkwardly landed, detaching the other ship just in time for Anakin to crash it into the forest nearby. Climbing down your ship's ladder, you saw that the bounty hunters' ship was severely damaged. Anakin was pulling himself out of the rear escape hatch, looking, to your relief, unhurt. You felt a surge of a feeling you couldn't define as you hurried toward him.

"What did you—" Anakin started, but you cut him off, throwing yourself into his arms. Only now did you realize you had been shaking. Holding his solid figure to yours, you were finally able to breathe deeply. Your body stopped quivering. You inhaled the scent of his Jedi robes. Anakin, after a pause, hugged you back, holding you close and putting his hand on the back of your head.

Blushing, you pulled away from him. "What was that about?" Anakin asked, chuckling, and you saw a bit of pink in his cheeks. You shrugged.

"I'm just...glad you're okay, is all," you said, taking a step backward. "Where are the bounty hunters?" Anakin gestured toward the enemy ship.

"I didn't have any restraining cuffs, so I had to improvise," Anakin laughed. You took a step toward the ship, peaking in to see the two unconscious forms of the bounty hunters, tied together with wire from the ship's navigational computer.

"Oh, 'zank 'ze gods!" you heard from behind you, and you turned, seeing Theo running upward from the direction of the house. "'Ze danger 'as passed?" You nodded, giving Theo a bracing pat on the shoulder.

"We should contact the council," you said, a lump forming in your throat. "We have their prisoners. That's a completed mission."

"Completed?" Theo asked, his face falling.

"Of course," Anakin responded gruffly, putting his hand on Theo's shoulder.

After a conversation with the holograms of Master Yoda and Master Windu, you both set about repairing your own ship. The captives, who were now awake, sat nearby, restraining cuffs around their hands and around their mouths. A Republic prison transport was en route to pick them up and take them back to Coruscant. Though they couldn't speak or sign, they both looked at you and Anakin with the death stares you'd come to associate with enemies defeated.

"You can start it up, flea," Anakin told you, and you moved around him carefully, climbing up into the co*ckpit to try the engine. As you did, you felt the woman with violet eyes watching you. Her thoughts turned to Anakin, and then to you. It was clear she intuited the bond between the two of you, and her fury seared through you in the Force. In her mind, she pictured what you interpreted to be a very clear threat—you, dead at her hand, and Anakin, made to watch. Your stomach turned. You did not want this mysterious enemy to know too much about your Force gifts, so you did not turn, did not let on that you read the threat in her mind. Still, your stomach flipped. It felt like she knew.

After the necessary repairs had been made, you asked Theo to watch over the captives for a moment, only so you could gather your supplies from the house.

"Are you thinking about what Master Windu said?" Anakin asked you quietly as you made your way through the jungle toward the house for the last time.

"I don't understand why Master Obi Wan and Master Yuma would have gone silent." These thoughts plagued you as you stepped through the doors, heading toward the stairs so you could enter the senator's suite to pack your things. Shouldn't they have arrested that bounty hunter they'd found on Kamino, by now? Why hadn't they returned?

"I'm sure everything is fine," Anakin said, though he didn't feel sure in his Force presence. He followed you into the suite, seeing as he was a Jedi, and everything he owned was on his person.

"I hope you're right," you replied, sighing. You packed the senator's clothes quietly. You might miss wearing these gowns, you thought. You might miss pretending you were someone else. Your breath caught in your throat.

"What is it?" Anakin asked, stepping forward to put his hand on your shoulder. You felt an uncertainty entering his Force presence, and he dropped his hand, taking a step back, torn between how he felt and his desire to respect your wishes.

"I just realized that we're leaving here," you said, trying not to let your feelings enter your voice. "That we're never coming back."

"We don't know that for sure," Anakin replied. "We don't know that we'll never return." You shook your head. Anakin's thoughts swirled around, jumping from pining to grief. You had almost forgotten the conversation you had been having before the bounty hunters showed up.

"You know," you told Anakin, closing the suitcase and turning to face him. "We're here, in the Outer Rim. There's no reason we can't make a quick...stop, before we return to the Temple."

"Are you serious?" Anakin asked, looking you over as if looking for signs of insincerity.

"Absolutely," you told him, looking him dead in the eye. "Tatooine is only a parsec away. And she might need us." At these words, Anakin's eyes filled with tears. You couldn't stop yourself. You once again wrapped your arms around him, putting your hands on the back of his neck. "We'll find her, and make sure she's okay," you whispered to Anakin, reassuring him about his dream, and also reassuring yourself. Your words emerged so close to Anakin's ear, you felt goosebumps pop up on his neck.

"We are sorry to interrupt," you heard a quiet voice say from the doorway, and you broke apart from Anakin, feeling awkward. Elodie entered the room, along with Océane. "We wanted to say goodbye," Elodie said slowly. At this, Océane burst into tears.

"Oh," you said, turning to them, tears filling your eyes. The three of you hugged, crying, blubbering words of affection. Anakin stood behind you clumsily, until a crying Océane pulled him into the hug.

"I will never forget you," you told the girls as they led you downstairs. You turned and took one last look at the house. "I will never forget this place."

The girls followed you up to your ship, up to where Theo was overseeing the captives being led onto the Republic prison transport. After assuring you that the captives would remain secure until they reached the capital, you and Anakin waved to the pilots and the guards as the transport took off.

"If you ever need anyzing," Theo said, taking you into his arms, "anyzing at all, you are welcome 'ere always." Theo shook Anakin's hand.

"We are your family," Elodie said through her tears, "and if you need us, we will be 'ere." These words brought tears to your eyes all over again. You wished, so dearly, that you could say the same, but you couldn't return this sentiment. You couldn't tell these wonderful people that you would be there for them—the Jedi lifestyle didn't allow for such promises.

"Take care of each other," you told them through your tears. Anakin patted you awkwardly as you wiped your eyes.

"Goodbye, dear ones," Theo called as you climbed into the gunner seat, opposite Anakin's pilot seat. You waved as the co*ckpit closed, and kept waving as the ship took off, watching Theo, Océane and Elodie becoming dots below you as the ship rose into the atmosphere. You leaned to the side, trying to take in your last glimpses of Levangé as the ship pulled higher. You looked at the beautiful islands, the blue sea, and the dark storm clouds that dotted the horizon. You weren't sure, but you thought you could see the form of a tentacle moving in one of the hurricanes. You hadn't told a lie. You would never forget this place.

As the ship pulled out of the atmosphere and you saw space in front of you, you felt Anakin pause in the pilot's seat.

"Are you sure about this?" Anakin asked. "We could get into a lot of trouble."

"Yes, I'm sure," you told him. A burst of feeling entered your presence, and you allowed it to fill the co*ckpit without withdrawing it. You wished you could give him more than this—wished you could take away his every bad feeling. If anything, you could give him peace. You could help him find his mother. "To Tatooine."

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Chapter 23: Chapter 23

Chapter Text

Chapter 23

Anakin struggled to keep himself focused as he led you into Mos Espa. Not only was he returning to this place, this place he had hated and longed for; not only was he finally returning to his mother, possibly to free her, to save her for good; but he was here with you, bringing you to the place where he'd grown up, the place he had left behind so long ago. He kept his hand firmly on your back as the two of you walked through the spaceport. This was an unsavory place, that much was certain. You were still wearing the senator's clothes, seeing as you didn't have your Jedi attire with you on Levangé. Anakin thought this might be for the better—thought that looking obviously like Jedi might call attention in a place such as this—but still. The image of you, bare-shouldered and dressed as an aristocrat, did not calm his anxiety. He kept as close to you as he could, hoping neither of you would attract unwanted attention. You were here for one reason only.

Out of anyone, Anakin knew that you were the one who understood the version of him that he had been when he lived here on Tatooine. It had been you who had read him so fully that first day he had come to the Temple, read him more fully than Obi-Wan or even Qui-Gon ever had. You had been the one to intuit that those closest to him here called him Ani. You were the one who seemed to know, always, that however much he projected otherwise, Anakin was still very much the scared and lost little boy who had been taken from his home all those years ago. Anakin knew all of this, and yet, watching you walk ahead of him in this place gave him an unbearable amount of anxiety. This was the place where Anakin had been nothing—where he had been helpless. Anakin didn't want you to think of him that way.

But what if he was too late? What if he was, in every sense of the word, helpless? What if he couldn't find his mother? What if something horrible had happened to her? It would be all Anakin's fault. He had promised himself that he would return, when he was powerful enough, to free all the slaves. He was plenty powerful enough. Why hadn't he come sooner? Why had he let Obi-Wan and the council govern all of his decisions? If anything bad had happened to his mother, it would be his fault, his responsibility entirely.

At this thought, you turned around and put your hand on Anakin's shoulder. Your eye contact was comforting—you stared up into Anakin's eyes, and Anakin felt a wave of calm wash over him. You allowed your Force presence to permeate his. You looked pained, somehow, and Anakin wondered why.

Anakin led you to the workshop of the Toydarian. Everything seemed to be in the exact same place as it had been, like nothing had changed. Anakin was sweating. It was a hot planet, he remembered, but he knew his fear was starting to take him over. He tried to breathe in the Force, but it was hard. He was carrying too many worries. He was carrying too many loves.

The sight of Watto sitting outside his shop brought complicated feelings to Anakin's insides. He took a deep breathe, and he felt you gripping his arm in a comforting gesture. He leaned toward you, trying to keep you as close as possible, looking around furtively to make sure there were not any nefarious presences about.

Let me, Anakin said in rusty Huttese as he walked forward, taking the droid from Watto's lap. Watto looked up at him, confused.

What are you doing? Watto asked, giving Anakin a suspicious look. Anakin felt your eyes on him as you read the meaning of this unfamiliar language through his presence.

I'm looking for Shmi Skywalker, Anakin told Watto in Huttese, glancing up before attending once again to the small droid in his hands. Watto flapped his wings, startled.

"Ani? Little Ani?" Watto asked, looking up at Anakin's face as if he couldn't put two and two together. Anakin handed him the repaired droid, keeping his face stoic. "Ani! It is you!" Watto exclaimed, taking the droid from Anakin and looking pleased, and uncomfortable. "You sure sprouted, eh? A Jedi? Maybe you could help me with these thugs, who owe me—"

Anakin heard you giggle, but it didn't help to lighten his mood. "My mother," Anakin told the Toydarian firmly, cutting off his speech.

"Right," Watto continued, looking awkward. "She's not mine anymore—I sold her." At these words, Anakin's face darkened. He felt the anger running through his veins, thought he might like to slit Watto's throat here and now. It wasn't as if the Toydarian didn't deserve it, for everything he had put Anakin through, all those years...

Anakin felt your hand moving on his shoulder, bringing him back to himself. He looked downward in shame. Anakin never wanted you to read those kinds of thoughts in him. He felt torn, torn between his desire to find his mother, his urgency, and his desire to make sure you thought he was a good person, to make sure he could live up to your expectations. He didn't know what to do, now that he had declared himself to you. You had given him an answer that didn't feel firm, that didn't feel decided. He didn't know what more he could do to prove to you that he could be who you needed him to be, that he could remake the Jedi Order for you, that he could make everything all right.

As Anakin thought over these things, the Toydarian was babbling nervously, something about not remembering exactly to whom his mother had been sold, something about a marriage, something about having records in his store. It was interesting to Anakin, that Watto was afraid of him. He quite liked this reversal of power.

"I'd like to know," Anakin said shortly, and Watto immediately obliged, leading you and Anakin into his store to find the record.

***

"No matter what happens," you said slowly, as you and Anakin exited your ship, "I'll be here with you." You watched Anakin's face as he turned back from the barren landscape outside to look at you. You felt all of the conflict in him—the terror, the longing for his mother, his feelings for you, his hurt, his love. The combination of it all made you ache. You felt the need to help him with it, but you didn't know how.

"Thanks," Anakin said simply, and you nodded, following him down the ladder and toward the homestead in the desert. As you walked toward the front door, a door you saw led downward into what looked like a hole in the barren landscape, it opened. Two figures walked forward, looking at you and Anakin with caution. They looked to be about your age—one boy and one girl.

"I'm Anakin Skywalker," Anakin said uncertainly, and the unfamiliar boy stepped forward, reaching his hand out to shake Anakin's.

"Owen Lars," the boy said, introducing himself. "I guess I'm your step-brother." You and Anakin shared a look. "This is my girlfriend, Beru," Owen continued, and you nodded in her direction. You felt outward with your feelings and swallowed, hard. Whatever news there might be of Anakin's mother, it wasn't good. Owen and Beru both felt a mixture of sadness, fear, and most importantly, pity. Anakin was shaking with nerves. You pushed outward with your own presence, trying in vain to calm him.

"Is my mother here?" Anakin asked, in a tone that made you think he already knew the answer.

"No," another voice said, as an older man moved out the door on a hover-chair. "She's not. Cleigg Lars," the man said, introducing himself with a wave. "Why don't you both come inside? We have some things to talk about."

Sitting around the table indoors, Beru served you a blue milk you were unfamiliar with while Cleigg told the story, with help from Owen. You searched Cleigg's emotions for any signs of insincerity, any malice, but found none. The man felt an immense amount of love for Anakin's mother, and an immense amount of grief that she had been taken by Tuskens. You intuited that these were a species indigenous to the area, and that they were feared by the local farmers, but you didn't think it the time to ask for clarification. You reached your hand out and stroked Anakin's forearm. His insides were bubbling, you felt, with fear and anger. He was suffering, that much was plain, but he had not given over to grief. He was furious. A darkness was taking over his presence, a darkness you had only felt glimpses of in the past. This darkness terrified you. You didn't want to leave his side.

"And you are sure she is lost?" you asked quietly, looking from Cleigg to Owen, and then to Beru. Beru looked down at her lap mournfully. Anakin stood up suddenly, anger piercing his insides.

"What are you doing?" you asked him, concerned.

"I'm going to find my mother," he said darkly, his brow furrowed in a permanent frown. The feeling in his presence alarmed you.

"Your mother's dead, son," Cleigg said, his voice sounding sad. "Accept it." But you felt in Anakin's presence that he had not accepted this fact, that he would not accept it—that he perhaps never would. You stood up quickly.

"I'll go with you," you told him, reaching for your lightsaber automatically.

"No," Anakin and Beru both said at once. You and Anakin looked over at the girl, and she looked away.

"What do you mean, no?" you asked, starting to feel fearful. "Of course I'll go with you, to help you find her. I said I would stay with you," you reminded Anakin, looking him in the face. Anakin looked away.

"I need to go alone," Anakin said firmly, still averting his eyes. "These are good people, Y/N. You can stay here until I return."

"Of course," Beru chimed in, and Owen nodded fervently.

"But—" you started, trying to figure out how to argue your point. You felt it in your gut: you couldn't let Anakin go alone.

"Wait for me here," Anakin said shortly, and without looking at you, he swept from the room. You immediately went to follow him, but Owen stood up, stepping in front of the doorway.

"The Tuskens," Owen said quietly, looking at you with sincerity, "are a very dangerous species. They kill without discretion." You shook your head quickly, trying to get Owen to move out of the way.

"I know I am not dressed like it," you pleaded with him, "but I am a Jedi. We will be safe, I promise, I just need to—"

"Please," piped Beru, "please just stay here and await his return. Trust me."

"No, trust me," you said, not ready to concede. "I can handle them. Anakin needs me to go with him."

"They kidnap women, Y/N," Cleigg said in an authoritative voice. "You would be in more danger than Anakin, should something go wrong. It is best you stay here." You thought, for a moment, about quickly disarming the three of them, about fighting your way out of this room and out to the courtyard, out to where Anakin was leaving. You heard the sound of a speeder zooming away. You sighed.

"Okay," you finally agreed, sinking into a chair at the table and putting your head in your hands.

***

The waiting was unbearable. It wasn't that you feared Anakin was in physical danger—you knew he could take on trained assassins, let alone a local tribe. It was that you feared, deeply, for Anakin's internal state. If what Cleigg had said was true—if Anakin's mother was truly gone—you worried that Anakin's grief might change him, forever.

You sat on the floor in a corner of the guest room that Cleigg had led you to. You kept your arms around your knees. You knew you should try to meditate, but your fear was clouding your ability to focus. You heard a knock on the door.

"Yes?" you asked, trying to be polite, but inside, you felt annoyed. You needed to be with Anakin, and because you couldn't be, you felt you needed to be alone. The door panel beeped and the door slid open.

"I brought you some Ahrisa," Beru said, entering the room with a diffident posture. You gave her a small, polite smile. "It isn't much," she continued, "but you must be hungry. It's been hours."

"Thank you," you told her, taking the baked substance out of social responsibility. The truth was, you were too stressed to eat.

"I know you're worried about him," Beru said, sitting down on the floor opposite you. "I’m sure he'll be fine. It seems he can take care of himself."

"I know he can take care of himself," you answered, taking a bite of the Ahrisa. The spices and flavors were new to you, but you realized you liked the taste. "It isn't his life I fear for."

"What do you mean?" Beru asked, looking inquisitive.

"Anakin is a very...passionate person," you tried to explain, though it was difficult in few words. "He feels things very deeply. I am afraid of how he might take this loss, if he isn't able to find her." Beru thought for a moment.

"Shmi and I were very close," Beru replied softly, looking at the ground. "She described her son as noble, talented, and selfless. She believed he could do anything, that he would do anything, to help others." These words felt heavy in your heart. Hearing how Anakin's mother described him as a child gave you an emotional response.

"He is all of those things," you said, looking at the ground. "He can do things even other Jedi cannot. And he is selfless—he would do anything for the people he loves," you continued, closing your eyes, trying to keep your emotions to yourself. "But he feels so intensely—he can't always help his reactions. It's almost like...almost like he loves too much." You opened your eyes, sighing.

"How long have the two of you been together?" Beru asked. You blushed.

"We aren't together," you responded, averting your eyes. "Jedi aren't allowed to form attachments." Beru said nothing. You looked over at her, and saw that she was giving you a look that clearly communicated something like disbelief. You were about to try to dissuade her of her assumption when you heard Owen calling out.

"Beru! Y/N! He's returned!"

***

It was more excruciating than you could have ever imagined. Watching Anakin carrying his mother's body; seeing his hardened face, his arm muscles straining to carry her limp form; watching him place her down on the ground, delicately, and reach for a shovel leaning against the house, beginning to dig. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around Anakin and never let go, wanted to hug him and never again let him out of your sight, but you held back. What you felt within him now was almost akin to a black hole—a nothingness, a dark, deep sadness that was still, quiet, and dead. You felt all of this with him, from within him. You didn't know what to do, or how to help, but when you saw Owen emerge from the house with more shovels, you took one, and together, you, Owen, and Anakin dug the grave that would house his mother forever. His beautiful mother, whom you had only seen in a secondhand dream, but would never get to meet. The woman who had raised the boy beside you, who had comforted him, and given him his name. Tears sprung to your eyes as you dug, and you let them fall. Cleigg and Beru watched on, crying silently.

After the burial, you turned to Anakin, hoping to talk with him alone, or not talk, just be with him, however he needed you. But he turned and walked into the house alone. You didn't understand this. You followed him, calling after him, but he continued to walk without a word, descending until you found yourself faced with a closed door.

"Ani," you called in to him, banging on the metal, but he didn't answer. You pressed the panel on the doorframe, and the door began to slide open, but Anakin used the Force to slam it shut. You stepped back, stunned.

"Ani," you called again, "Ani, please, I just want to talk to you." He gave no answer, but from behind the door you felt his despair, his agony, the darkness of absence in his heart. "Ani, please open the door," you tried again, and this time you couldn't help yourself from allowing your tears to enter your voice. You felt his presence sour, felt everything in him turning to darkness.

"Ani, please, let me help you," you called again, crying freely now. You felt a shift in Anakin's presence, a shift that felt like shame. That felt like a secret. This confused you. "Ani?" you asked him, trying to parse through the complex feelings you felt emanating from behind the door.

"I want to be left alone!" you heard him shout, his agony spilling into his voice. You felt in his presence that these words weren't true—that the last thing Anakin wanted was to be alone. You didn't understand.

"You want to be alone because…because you’re afraid?" you called through the door, wading through his presence, pushing the fronds aside as you puddled deeper into the swamp of his mind. You heard the sound of Anakin sobbing, and your heart tore into pieces. "Because you don’t want me to find out…" you continued, feeling forward through his presence, feeling that he was keeping something secret in the deepest parts of himself. "Because you don’t want me to know…." You gasped.

The feeling was cold, and dark, and awful. The memories of the bodies falling to his lightsaber, the screams of terror coming from the innocent, from the children. You felt their pain through Anakin's mind, felt the Tuskens of the tribe calling out for mercy, felt Anakin's own pain as he struck each and every one of them down. You felt sick, like you couldn’t breathe. Your eyes clouded over. You couldn't see.

"Get out of my head!" Anakin yelled, and the sound of his voice brought you back to the present. You took in deep breaths, trying to get the air to move back to your lungs, trying to call into yourself the Force, asking, begging the light for guidance. You heard the sound through the door of Anakin's sobs, and without meaning to, you used the Force to push the door open, pushing it so hard the metal bent.

You saw Anakin, sitting on the floor between the moisture vaporators, his head in his hands, his face puffy and red with tears, looking up at you as if you had gravely wounded him—as if you were the one who had committed a crime against living beings. But looking upon his face, you couldn't feel the atrocities he had committed anymore. You couldn't feel the pain of the Tuskens. All you could feel was Anakin's pain, Anakin's heartbeat, Anakin himself. You didn't know if it was the light side of the Force guiding you, or if you were responding to him in the only way you possibly could. Either way, you had no choice in the matter—not anymore. Love was like that, sometimes. You couldn't see anything else.

"Ani," you sobbed, stumbling forward. "No matter what, I will be here with you." You repeated your own words from before as you went to him, kneeling beside him and wrapping your arms around his shaking form.

"Now you know," Anakin sobbed. "Now you know, and you can never love me now, not after what I've done." You tried in vain to shush him, to rub his back. "They killed her, like animals, and I slaughtered them like animals. I hate them!" The darkness inside Anakin reached a pitch, before you pushed outward with your presence, wrapping Anakin and yourself in its embrace. You crafted through the Force an impenetrable bubble, one that held only love, and forgiveness, and hope.

"I will be here with you," you repeated, hugging Anakin and bringing him into your breath, breathing in the light side of the Force. Gradually, the two of you both began to breathe slower. Slowly, the darkness inside Anakin dimmed as you pushed forward with the light. You held him to you, pushing your cheek against his, both of your tears mixing as they met. Anakin's presence calmed into a dull ache.

"Little flea," Anakin choked out, and you loosened your arms, brushing Anakin's hair off his forehead with one hand.

"I will be here," you said, because you didn't know what else to say, and because you knew who Anakin was—Anakin was the little boy who would do anything for the people he loved. Anakin was not dangerous. He was hurt. He needed you. You wiped the tears off his face, and saw something he was holding in his hands, like a talisman.

"What is that?" you asked, looking down at Anakin's fingers. Anakin looked down in surprise, as if he had forgotten he was holding something.

"Oh," Anakin said, sniffling. "It's—" Anakin opened his hands to reveal a piece of blue seaglass that had been wound around with metal and attached to a beautiful silver chain. "I made this for you, back on Levangé," Anakin said quietly, wiping his eyes with his tunic, a bit of color returning to his cheeks. "It's seaglass from your favorite beach. It feels like forever ago, now. You don't have to wear it, or anything—"

But you were already taking it from Anakin's fingers, and looking at it in awe. It was a piece of happiness in physical form. The seaglass was the same exact color as Anakin's eyes. It was beautiful.

"I love it," you said quietly, opening the chain. Anakin reached out with both hands, helping you to clasp it around your neck. When it was attached, he put his hands down, fingering the piece of glass where it sat on your chest.

"How can you...forgive me," Anakin asked, tears filling his eyes, "for what I've done?" You shook your head.

"I know who you are, Anakin Skywalker," you told him firmly. If his mother no longer tied Anakin to this world, you would be the one to remind him. "I know you."

Anakin stared into your eyes, leaning closer, watching you for signs that you wanted him to give you space. But you didn't want that. Your faces grew closer.

Just then, your comms started beeping.

***********************************

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Chapter 24: Chapter 24

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

"Anakin," the ghost of a voice rang out, "re-transmit this message to Coruscant."

The pale form of the hologram of Obi-Wan Kenobi rose from both your comm and Anakin's. You'd needed to head out to your ship, to connect to the long-range transmitter. You stood below the ladder that led up to the small co*ckpit, holding your comm links in your palms, watching the message that your ship had already recorded. Your ship was, at this moment, transmitting Obi-Wan's words to the council chambers, making sure the message hit the ears of the most powerful and respected Jedi in the Order. This was not a live communication, and therefore, you couldn't say anything back to Obi-Wan. Still, hearing his voice after weeks was jarring. So much had happened between the moment you'd left Coruscant and now. You'd almost forgotten your life, your Master, the sound of Obi-Wan's voice, its specific timbre. You felt, rather than sensed empirically, that Master Yuma stood just beside Obi-Wan's holographic form. You wished, in spite of yourself, that she would step forward—that she would speak to you, that you could hear your voice. Your heart flipped inside your chest. How could you return to your old life, now that you felt you had been made into something new?

"Yuma and I have tracked the bounty hunter Jango Fett from Kamino to the droid foundries on Geonosis." Obi-Wan's hologram paused, as if distracted by something. "It is clear, now, that Count Dooku has been behind the attacks on the Galactic Senate."

At this, your eyes widened, and you and Anakin looked at one another. I told them, you thought, frustrated, but you pushed the thought aside immediately. You had too much on your mind to dwell in spite.

"The Commerce Guilds and Corporate Alliance have both pledged their armies to Count Dooku," Obi-Wan continued, addressing the council, "and are forming an...Wait!...Wait!!" Obi-Wan had drawn his saber as fast as light speed, blocking, you saw, blasts coming from somewhere outside the hologram. You gasped. As Obi-Wan backed out of view, you saw Master Yuma, her long braids swinging around her, her lightsaber held high as she too blocked holographic blasts. Both of the Jedi moved out of view, and in their place, you saw destroyer droids walking forward, shooting blast after blast until the transmission cut out.

You gaped at Anakin, stunned. What had you just witnessed? This could have only occurred mere moments ago—you'd received the transmission when you had been sitting with Anakin, in the underground room that housed the moisture vaporators. Where were Master Obi-Wan and Master Yuma now? Had they managed to escape?

"Anakin," you heard a different voice command, "Y/N." You looked back at your comm, which now showed the hologram figure of Master Mace Windu. "Return to Coruscant immediately. We will handle Count Dooku."

"Yes, Master," you heard Anakin choke out, and at this, the transmission ended. You stared at Anakin.

"We can't go back," you said quickly, and Anakin looked up at you, widening his eyes.

"Are you suggesting," he said, disbelieving, "that we disobey a direct order? For the second time?"

"Yes," you said firmly, staring him in the face, no hint of insincerity in your voice.

"Who are you and what have you done with Y/N?" Anakin asked, a laugh gracing his face for the briefest moment. The laugh didn't sound genuine. This situation was just too heavy. In the past few weeks, your life had descended from the normal level of complicated to full and utter chaos. Anakin's dark act sat heavy at the back of your mind, a weight that you tried to push aside. Still, you knew that Anakin's feeble attempt at humor was a good sign. It meant he was still trying. It meant he was breathing in the light.

"We're much closer to Geonosis than Coruscant," you said seriously. "We need to go rescue our Masters." Anakin was looking at you funny. "What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious. You felt within Anakin a very strong admiration. Amidst all of the tragedy, amidst everything, you felt suddenly buoyant, as if the seaglass around your neck was lifting you into the air.

"Nothing," Anakin said quickly, and for the first time since you'd left Levangé, his smile reached his eyes. "Agreed. Let's go."

***

"Are you ready?" Anakin asked you softly as the ship pulled out of hyperspace.

"As ready as I ever am," he heard you respond. The planet beneath your ship was a darker orange than Tatooine, but it looked just as barren, just as unwelcoming. Anakin flew the ship down low, near to the sector where Obi-Wan's transmission had come from. Anakin pushed aside his darker thoughts—his fears for his Master, his guilt, his worry for you. He tried, hard, to focus on the present.

"There," Anakin heard you say, and he looked and saw steam rising from vents near what looked like a settlement hidden in the rock.

"A perfect place to hide," Anakin responded, pulling the ship into the steam. He hoped it was harmless.

"I know you prefer the, 'guns blazing' approach," you said as Anakin touched the ship down on what felt like a metal grate. "But I think stealth is our best option here."

"Don't worry, flea," Anakin smiled. "We can do this your way.

Anakin covered his nose and mouth as he opened the co*ckpit and lowered the ladder. He gave you a hand and then descended himself, hurrying to the edge of the grate where the steam was thinner.

"Over here," Anakin heard you call, and he saw you kneeling in front of a hidden door. Anakin quickly got to work on the door panel, pulling off the metal and rewiring, his fingers moving fast. The door opened.

The two of you crept into a dark hallway. Anakin felt you reaching out, communicating to him in his mind that you should not draw your sabers until it was absolutely necessary. Anakin agreed. He didn't know anything about this place, and he thought it best not to announce your presence with the light and sound that a saber cast.

Suddenly, Anakin felt you reach out in the dark and grab his arm. Anakin stopped, listening hard, but he heard nothing. What had you felt, that he had missed? Were your abilities picking up on a presence?

"Anakin," you whispered, and Anakin turned to look at you in the low light. The sight took all feeling from his body, his legs and feet going cold. Your eyes were rolling back into your head, and your body was shaking. He'd seen this happen to you twice before—once on Hoth, and once on Serenno. The fact that it was happening now could mean nothing good.

"Y/N," Anakin whispered frantically. You didn't seem to have lost all of your awareness. You still gripped his arm firmly, and Anakin saw that your other hand was reaching out for him. He quickly took your hand in his, taking you into his arms, looking around, still seeing and hearing nothing.

"What is it Y/N? What do you feel?" Anakin breathed quietly into your ear.

"Horrible...horrible things," you whispered back, your mouth struggling with the words. "He's telling me horrible things."

"Who is?" Anakin asked, his fear spiking.

"He's here," you rasped a little louder, and at this, you fell limp in his arms, completely unconscious. The hairs on the back of Anakin's neck stood up, and Anakin felt the change before it happened. Keeping you firmly in his arms, and moving your collapsed figure to the side, Anakin drew his saber with his other hand, blocking two quick blasts that came from what looked like sonic blasters.

"Y/N!" Anakin shouted, trying to rouse you as he blocked more blasts from the oncoming attackers, bug-like creatures that clicked when they spoke. They descended upon the two of you, and Anakin pulled your body behind his, blocking each blast one-handed with his saber. The sonic blasts, however, did not rebound upon the attackers—the energy was absorbed fully by Anakin's lightsaber, and thus, Anakin was solely on the defense. While holding onto you, Anakin could not take an aggressive attack stance.

The bugs grew closer and closer to Anakin, and he blocked their blasts cleanly, still trying in vain to rouse you. Suddenly, Anakin heard the sound of dark laughter, and the blasts stopped.

"So heroic," the man said, stepping forward, clapping his hands together twice. At first, Anakin thought the unfamiliar but foreboding old man was performing a sarcastic applause. Anakin quickly realized, however, that the claps signaled to the bugs to drop their weapons.

"You must be Dooku," Anakin said, his tone confident, feigning civility, mirroring the man who stepped before him.

"Your weapons," Count Dooku gestured to Anakin's saber, which he still held high in the air.

"As if," Anakin spat, looking at the man in hatred.

"Manners, Padawan," Count Dooku said, looking quite at ease. "Your weapons, or else..." the man trailed off, and at this, Anakin saw the Geonosians behind him put their sonic blasters to your exposed and defenseless neck.

"What have you done to her?" Anakin asked, his brow furrowed in anger, his heart beating fast.

"Nothing more than what is necessary," Count Dooku said simply, and Anakin sensed an unspoken truth behind this mysterious man's presence. Anakin narrowed his eyes. "Oh, yes, she is a fascinating talent. Which, of course, can create problems for us." Count Dooku laughed, and Anakin shifted his weight so that you were fully behind him, unconscious as you were. "But, in the end, she is nothing," Dooku seethed, and Anakin's anger curled upward inside him, licking at his throat like a flame.

"How do you know who she is?" Anakin asked, suspiciously, trying to keep Dooku talking so he could find a way out of this that didn't include you in a body bag.

"I know many things, Anakin Skywalker," Count Dooku said threateningly, stopping in front of Anakin. "Now, your weapons. Unless you'd like this to get...messy," Dooku continued, and at these words, the bugs held their guns co*cked at your neck. Anakin was sweating, and he sensed Count Dooku would kill you given the slightest provocation. In fact, he thought it odd, that Dooku had not already attempted to kill the both of you. Clearly, this man was not shy when it came to killing. Anakin sighed in defeat, and dropped his lightsaber on the ground. Count Dooku immediately swept it into his hand using the Force.

"And hers," Dooku said, looking Anakin in the eye. Anakin shifted your limp figure back into his arms, and freed the lightsaber from your belt. Dooku collected your weapon in the same manner as Anakin's, and Anakin touched your face, seeing that your eyes were still moving beneath their sockets, still rolling around in your head.

"Right," Dooku said professionally, as if this matter were beneath him. "Now come with me." Dooku walked forward down the hallway, and Anakin had half a mind to try to run, with you, in the other direction—but the Geonosians were all around, in seemingly infinite numbers, their sonic blasters pointing up at Anakin where he held you in his arms. Anakin saw no choice but to follow.

Dooku led Anakin through what looked like a factory, and onto a staircase made of rock. As the two men walked, you stirred, your head moving back and forth.

"Y/N?" Anakin whispered quietly, touching your cheek with his thumb. "Can you hear me?"

"She won't wake," Count Dooku called from ahead, and Anakin flushed with anger. "Not now, anyway. Your friend is easily distracted." Dooku laughed. Anakin didn't understand. What did he mean, by this?

The Geonosians pushed Anakin forward with their blasters, down more stairs, through what seemed to be a magnificent rock structure, until they were below ground.

"Time to part ways," Dooku said harshly, and before Anakin could stop them, the Geonosians were wrestling you out of his arms. You made a soft noise, but remained insensate.

"No!" Anakin shouted, lunging forward to you, but Dooku quickly used the Force, shooting with his fingers a blue lightning at Anakin. The pain was excruciating—but in a moment, it was over. Anakin gasped for air. He'd never seen anyone use the Force in this manner before.

"No harm will come to her," Count Dooku said, and a look of impatience crossed his face. This reaction confused Anakin even more. "The same cannot be said, unfortunately, for you," Dooku continued, shooting Anakin with more Force lightning. Anakin's knees buckled and he fell to the ground, his eyes watering at the pain. When the lightning stopped, Anakin looked up just in time to see the Geonosians carrying your lifeless form out of sight.

"It's time for us to have a conversation," Count Dooku said menacingly, lifting Anakin's body with the Force. The Geonosians bound Anakin's hands behind his back in restraining cuffs, and Dooku pushed his body into what looked like a cell.

***

Anakin panted, hanging in his restraints. Count Dooku circled his form, studying him. Anakin didn't understand. Why was Dooku holding back? Why not kill him? Why carry on with him, in this way?

"I'm simply trying to understand," Count Dooku said aloud, as if answering Anakin's unspoken question. "What is it about you, Skywalker? Why are there so many whispers? Why must I preserve you?" Anakin didn't understand this speech. What was going on?

"Why are you killing senators?" Anakin responded cheekily, struggling as he hung, held by the ray shields that kept him vertical.

"And why is it so important," Dooku continued, as if he hadn't heard Anakin's interjection, "that I incapacitate your friend? Why must she be preserved, and yet blinded?" At this, Anakin was fully lost. His heart gave a pang as he thought of you, being led away by the bugs, your eyes rolling back into your head. Where were you, now? What kind of Force prison was your mind trapped in? Why did this keep happening to you, and more importantly, how?

"Ah," Dooku said, looking Anakin in the eye as he circled him. "More than a friend, perhaps? You are too forthright with your presence, Padawan. This is something you must learn to control, if you wish to be a Jedi Master. And yet..." Dooku looked away, as if looking somewhere else, into the future. "What if there is use for you, after all?"

"What do you mean?" Anakin burst out, unable to keep his curiosity to himself.

"What if I told you," Dooku said, his tone picking up in urgency, "that you could have what you desire? That under my mentorship, you could have more?" Anakin's insides squirmed.

"I want nothing to do with you," Anakin sneered clumsily.

"You could have her," Count Dooku continued, looking maniacal, and Anakin's heart panged once again, as if being tugged from the other end of the string. "The Jedi would never let you marry, but if you want the love of the one you seek..." Dooku sounded almost crazed, his eyes wide. "And you could have power—power beyond anything you have imagined. Together, you and I could destroy our enemies, and make things the way we want them." This speech tore through Anakin like a pact. How could this horrible, evil man in front of him say something that sounded so very much like what Anakin himself had said to you?

"I would never join you," Anakin said angrily, struggling in his restraints. Dooku seemed to come back to himself.

"Pity," Count Dooku responded, coming back to his civility, looking Anakin over in distaste. "That you will lose her, the one you love. Yes, I can feel it, Skywalker, I can feel the desire in your heart, the covetousness, the...despair." Anakin's stomach dropped to the floor. "A waste, that she will die, because you were too zealous in your commitment to this dying religion." At these words, Anakin screamed.

"What have you done with her?" Anakin shouted, wriggling in his restraints. "Let me out of here!! Bring her to me, now!!" Anakin yelled with as much Force command as he could muster, but it did nothing.

"You are so predictable," Count Dooku spat, "and you bore me." At this, Count Dooku hit Anakin again with more Force lightning, and the sound of his screams rang through the palace of rock.

***

When you came to, you found yourself collapsed on the ground of a small, semi-dark cell made out of orange rock. You were alone, you saw, as you sat up and rubbed your forehead. Where were you? What was happening? The last thing you remembered, you...

Dooku! you thought, and you gasped. You remembered arriving on Geonosis with Anakin, remembered walking through a dark hallway until...until you had been led into a dark hallway in your own mind. You remembered now. The presence you had encountered on Serenno, Dooku's own signature in the Force, had not turned and walked away this time. He had greeted you, had led you into his own trap. He had told you horrible things...horrible things about yourself, about Anakin, about the Jedi, about the Republic...and those horrible things had trapped you in a cage, your own consciousness keeping you prisoner. But now, as you tried to piece together that exchange, you couldn't remember. What had Count Dooku told you, in the Force? How had he imprisoned your mind?

You were shaking. You looked around, felt your belt, but saw that you had no lightsaber. Being without your weapon made you feel vulnerable, naked. You weren't even wearing Jedi clothes—you were still in the senator's garb, which was now dirtied and torn. You stood up, though you were still shaking and covered in cold sweat, and swept the cell, looking in all the corners, feeling with your fingers the place where the rock met the cold metal of the door. You tried to use the Force to open it, but it was no use. The thing wouldn't budge.

Just then, you heard the vaguest sound of a scream, like an echo of an echo, a tear in the fabric of the silence that surrounded you. It was like you felt the sound in your heart, rather than heard it with your ears. It was a familiar voice. It was Anakin.

"Anakin!" you yelled, and you banged on the metal of the door. You heard the sound of more screaming, and it brought tears to your eyes. What were they doing to him, to make him scream like that? Where was he? You had to get to him.

You paced the cell over and over, feeling every inch of the rock. You pushed with the Force as hard as you could, but the door wouldn't budge. It seemed impenetrable. You sighed, sweating, shaking your head back and forth. How were you and Anakin going to get out of this?

You paced in circles for an unknowable amount of time—how long had you been in here? There was no way of knowing. Your brain was buzzing with anxiety, and you paced and paced. Then, suddenly, mid-step, you felt movement. You felt something coming closer, through the Force. You felt someone approaching. The door opened.

"Anakin!" you exclaimed, half terrified, half relieved. In the split second you had to make the decision, you thought about trying to fight your way through the dozens of Geonosians you saw behind the door, all of them pointing their sonic blasters straight at your heart. But then you saw the condition Anakin was in—saw him being pushed forward into the cell, saw him falling forward to his knees, his arms restrained behind his back. You thought no more of fighting. Anakin could barely walk.

"Anakin," you breathed, kneeling next to him as the Geonosians slammed the door of the cell shut. It was dark, but you could just barely see his face, and you reached outward, touching his cheeks.

"Y/N, are you all right?" Anakin asked, and you saw that he was covered in sweat. He looked severely shaken, you noted, but you didn't see any bruises or lacerations, no signs of serious injury, and this calmed you.

"What? Yes, I'm fine," you said, hurriedly, "Anakin, what did they do to you? Where does it hurt? Tell me, and I'll fix it, I'll—"

"Are you sure you're all right? They didn't hurt you?" Anakin asked, his body drooping forward, but his eyes alert, looking you in the face, kneeling in front of you.

"Ani, I'm fine," you said quickly, shaking your head, "but Ani, look at you! What happened?"

"Nothing," Anakin said, crinkling his eyes in confusion, "Dooku didn't want anything from me. I don't understand..."

"Understand what?" you whispered, keeping your hands firmly on Anakin's face. He was here. Though your situation was desperate, though there seemed to be little hope of escape, you felt okay, felt wonderful, because Anakin was here in front of you, unharmed. You took in his whole form with your eyes, how sturdy and real he looked, and you felt whole in a way you couldn't describe. It was like the reality of your situation—how precious life was, how easy it might be to lose it—shattered every structure inside of you. You didn't remember, now, why you felt it so important to keep yourself far away from Anakin. Those reasons for not allowing yourself to express how you felt blew away in the wind like they were made of straw. You could no longer pretend you didn't feel the way you did. You felt like you could never let him leave your side again.

"I don't know. I don't know why Dooku has kept us alive. I don't know what he wants. It doesn't make sense." You nodded quickly, agreeing, but not fully caring. All you could feel was the relief—the relief that Anakin was okay and here with you, if even for one more moment.

"I don't know if we're going to make it out of this one, Ani," you said quietly, looking at the blue of Anakin's irises, and at these words, tears formed in the corners of your eyes. You felt the weight of the seaglass hanging on your chest. These words seemed to give Anakin new strength.

"I'll figure this out. I'll..." Anakin said, straightening on his knees, looking around the cell, trying to think. "I'll get us out of here. Don't be afraid, little flea."

"If I'm afraid to die," you breathed, quietly, "it's only because I'm afraid of being parted from you." Anakin, who had been looking all around the cell, distracted, suddenly snapped his face back to yours, furrowing his eyebrows, breathing in quickly.

"What?" he asked, not taking his eyes off you, looking confused.

"Ani, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before, I—" you choked, the tears flowing freely now. You kept your hands on Anakin's cheeks, pulling him closer to you. "I was wrong. I didn't understand..." Both you and Anakin were breathing heavily, him hanging onto your every word. You felt in him a tidal wave in the Force, forming in his ocean, beginning to rise. "I thought I could live without you, if I was strong enough, but I was wrong. It isn't about strength, and I can't, I can't live without you near me, I can't take one more breath without telling you—"

But Anakin cut you off, pressing his lips to yours firmly, and you didn't object. You wrapped your arms around his face and head, and together, the two of you intertwined in the Force, your breath curling around his breath, your soul stringing together with his. The change was irreparable. There was no going back now. There was no going anywhere, not unless the two of you were together.

You communicated all of this in the kiss, and Anakin responded in kind, his waves crashing inside of him, waves of joy, of oneness, of passion. You felt as if the two of you might still be on Levangé—you were without a care for anything else, anything outside of the two of your bodies, your forms, your selves. The rest of it didn't matter. You were connected, and no matter who might try to attack you, no matter where you found yourselves, nothing mattered as long as this bond was held intact. The Force demanded this of you: that you worship the connection you had formed with Anakin, that you revere this bond with every breath, with every heartbeat.

Dizzy, you and Anakin broke apart. The smile on his face was unlike anything you'd ever seen, in any lifetime.

"I love you," you said breathlessly, your smile mirroring Anakin's, "is what I meant to say."

"I know," Anakin replied, his love for you beaming through the Force like the sun—burning always.

****************************

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Chapter 25: Chapter 25

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Anakin felt as if his head were flying above the rest of his body, through the clouds. He felt invincible, as if he were one hundred feet tall, one thousand. He felt the light breeze on his face and smiled to feel it. It didn't matter that he was in a hovercraft, in handcuffs, being led, likely, into danger. It didn't matter that he was being held prisoner by the separatist forces led by the evil Count Dooku. None of it mattered. He was glowing. He felt he could take on any enemy, that he could fight an army by himself. He could do anything. You loved him.

He smiled still, turning to face you, noting that you didn't seem the share his feelings of elation. The two of you stood next to one another, on the hovercraft that was being led through the underground tunnels of Geonosis by armed Geonosians. Both of you had your hands bound behind your back. You looked up at him, your eyes communicating clearly in the low light. Anakin knew you were afraid. He leaned forward, keeping his balance with his hands behind his back, to press a soft kiss to your forehead. You had no need for fear. You were with him. Anakin wouldn't let anything happen to you—not now, not ever.

Anakin brushed his lips against your temple, and then pulled back, squinting as the hovercraft came out of the darkness and into the light of the day. Anakin felt you intake a deep breath next to him, and he pushed out his thoughts to try to calm you. The two of you had been led into what looked like a colosseum, though its style was more reminiscent of a bee hive. Bugs, Anakin thought darkly, giving one of his captors a sinister look. The colosseum was filled with the winged Geonosians, all of whom, it seemed, had gathered to watch some sort of show. Anakin shifted his feet as he felt the familiar presence, before he looked up and saw him.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was standing, hands bound behind his back, against a large stone pillar, one of four rising in the center of the colosseum. The Geonosians surrounding him seemed to threaten him with their rods, but Obi-Wan wasn't paying them any attention. He was giving Anakin a familiar, exasperated look—but behind this look, Anakin could see the fear in his eyes. Obi-Wan stared at him, glancing over at you, and then back to him, as if to ask why you'd come. Anakin had to work hard not to roll his eyes. Anakin glanced back at you, seeing that you were looking intently at Master Yuma, who was being bound to the pillar next to Obi-Wan's. The two of you were seemingly having a silent conversation, and Anakin felt something pass back and forth between you and Yuma, in the Force. Anakin didn't understand why everyone looked so worried—he was here. He could get you out of any scrape.

"Ahh," Anakin let slip, as the Geonosian guard prodded him with the electric rod, ushering him out of the hovercraft. Dolefully, Anakin stepped out, watching as you were led to the stone pillar next to his, furthest from Master Yuma. Anakin allowed the guard to pull his handcuffs up above his head, tying him to the large pillar with a chain.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd gotten my message," Obi-Wan said dryly, from the pillar next to his, and Anakin turned to see the sarcastic face of his Master, with its sardonic smirk and its raised eyebrows.

"I transmitted it like you requested, Master," Anakin responded with a pout, his voice feigning subservient respect. "Then we decided to come and rescue you."

"Good job," Obi-Wan said caustically, gesturing to his bound hands. Anakin breathed deeply. He would not allow Obi-Wan to rattle him. Not today—today, for all its calamity, was Anakin's favorite day. He breathed in his own feeling of triumph, savoring the memory of your words from earlier. He had you. Whatever else the Geonosians might throw at him, it wouldn't matter. You'd finally admitted you loved him, and Anakin felt on top of the galaxy.

"Just breathe," Obi-Wan instructed, misunderstanding Anakin's sudden burst of feeling. "Let the Force guide you." Only then did Anakin hear the roar. Swallowing quickly, Anakin turned to see four alien beasts being led by the guards in the direction of the stone pillars.

"Let the executions begin!" Anakin heard a voice ring out through the colosseum, and the sounds of buzzing from the Geonosians in the stands sounded celebratory.

"What about Y/N?" Anakin asked, turning wildly to look for you, but seeing only the base of the pillar on his other side.

"She seems to be on top of things," Obi-Wan said, and Anakin heard the smile in his Master's voice as he looked up, seeing you sitting casually on top of your stone pillar, though it had to be at least 30-feet high. Anakin laughed.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Anakin heard you call, "but we're under attack." Anakin glanced back at the Reek, walking toward him, pushing its front leg back in an aggressive gesture.

"I think I'll take a lesson out of your book!" Anakin grunted back, launching himself into the air right as the Reek charged. Flipping around, Anakin landed on the back of the beast. As he yanked his chain out of its loop and wrapped it around the Reek's mouth, as a bit, Anakin heard what sounded like sarcastic clapping. He grinned.

"Still need a few lessons, I think," Anakin heard you call, as you jumped, flying through the air expertly and with the proper amount of force to kick the Nexu attacking you out of the air and onto its back. As both you and beast fell, Anakin saw the Nexu's paw reach out and scratch your back. You gasped as you landed. Anakin's face fell.

"Quick, flea!" he yelled. "Get on!" You pulled yourself up, running for Anakin as the Nexu charged. Anakin held out his hand just in time, pulling you onto the Reek's back.

"Next time," you breathed heavily as Anakin used the chain to pull the Reek around to face the Nexu, "I think we should do what the council says." The Reek, at Anakin's command, charged the Nexu, putting it on its back, immobile.

"As if," Anakin responded, whirling around to see if you were okay. The two of you watched as Obi-Wan pulled Yuma to her feet, their respective beasts lying dead on the ground. Anakin steered the Reek in their direction, pulling both of them onto its back.

"Now what?" you asked, breathing heavily, as destroyer droids rolled out from each corner of the colosseum, circling you and pointing their blasters directly at your hearts.

***

You watched as the destroyer droids rolled up to you in a circle, pointing their blasters in unison with a click. You felt Anakin's heart beating in his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around him, holding onto his back. You knew Master Yuma, seated behind you and holding onto you, had intuited the change in your and Anakin's relationship immediately. You hadn't even had a moment to try to hide it from her, and even if you had, Anakin's Force presence betrayed everything. The current passing between the four of you, brothers and sisters in the Force and at the same time parents and children in the Order, was complex. Here you were, in a tigher scrape than you'd ever been in, weaponless, at the hands of the enemy. Anakin was feeling confident, you knew, and co*cky—you, his other half in the Force, were careful, cautious, afraid. You looked up into the stands of the colosseum, knowing that somewhere up there Count Dooku stood, watching the scene below. You could feel his presence, from this distance, but it felt like a tiny prick—like a pinch. You worried, though, that he might come closer—that when he tired of his game, he might try to incapacitate you as he had done before. You worried for Anakin, for Master Yuma, for Master Obi-Wan—you worried that they might die, trying to protect you, if you were once again rendered unconscious. And Master Yuma, behind you, was worrying for your safety. You felt her regarding the change in the current between you and Anakin with both trepidation, and, you could feel, pure joy. And Master Obi-Wan, his fear spiking, was oblivious, it seemed, for the time being, to your change in feelings. He was thinking quickly, worrying for your own safety and for Yuma's, but mostly, you knew, for the safety of his Padawan, the young co*cky boy he loved like family. Obi-Wan was taking in his surroundings completely, and you took this cue to do the same. There had to be a way out of this situation that preserved all four of your lives. You were Jedi, after all. You could handle this.

You breathed deeply, pulling in the current of the Force. You listened carefully to that current, knowing that it would alert you if one of the droids surrounding you was ordered to pull its trigger. Without lightsabers, you were useless to defend yourself against their blasts. Lightsabers...it was odd, but you felt, rather than heard, the hum of a lightsaber. It wasn't a hum, exactly, but a feeling—a feeling you were used to feeling in the Temple, a feeling of Jedi presences making room for each other, communicating in the Force. The feeling got stronger.

You opened your eyes with a gasp.

"What is it, Y/N?" Master Yuma breathed quietly in your ear. You smiled.

"They're here," you whispered, and as if on cue, you felt their presences converging around you. You looked up and saw them, their lightsabers lit, surrounding the destroyer droids.

"See," Anakin said, turning around to grin at Obi-Wan, "I told you we transmitted your message."

A disturbance in the Force caused all four of you to look up, and the blasters around you started firing as Mace Windu leapt down into the arena, his purple lightsaber held high.

"Quick!" you heard someone shout, and behind you, you saw Henry running forward, holding in his hands two lightsabers. He threw one up to you, where you sat on the Reek, and threw the other to Anakin, drawing a third saber from his belt and blocking blasts from the droids now filling the Colosseum. Master Faer followed him, throwing lightsabers to Master Yuma and Master Obi-Wan. All four of you leapt from the back of the Reek, lighting your sabers and joining the battle.

"Thanks!" you yelled to Henry, blocking blasts from droids as you ran into the fight, Anakin at your side. You felt the buzzing of many whispered presences around you, the emotions at their height, as these Jedi and Padawans fought the influx of battle droids now filling the arena. You saw Seeva levitating one of the droids, turning it around so that it shot at its own compatriots. You saw Yumi ducking and turning to block the blasts from a destroyer droid, her lightsaber held in a backward grip behind her back. You saw Dallum and Eha back to back, fighting off droids in complete harmony, as if in a choreographed dance. You quickly turned to Anakin, watching as he jumped into the air in a circular motion, slicing through battle droids left and right. You followed suit.

"Anakin," you called to him, and he turned back to you, grinning. "How are we going to get out of this?"

"Don’t worry, little flea," Anakin called back, pulling you to his side. The two of your sabers glided through the air, blocking the blasts and sending them back at the chests of the battle droids that converged on the two of you.

"But there are so many of them," you pleaded, the fear spiking in you. It was the same feeling you'd felt when you'd watched Anakin fly into the hurricane on Levangé—it was a feeling unbefitting of a Jedi, a fear deep and paralyzing. It was as if you finally had something important to live for: something that mattered to you so much, that the thought of losing it made you quiver. Your hand shook as you moved your saber back and forth.

"I won't let anything happen to you," Anakin said firmly, pulling you to him and reaching out his saber to block more blasts. "I won't let anything happen to us."

But you felt it around you—you didn't have time to look, to stop your fight, but you felt the despair creeping in. You felt that bodies were falling—you felt that Jedi were being slain in this fight, this fight you somehow felt responsible for.

Y/N, get DOWN!! you felt through the Force, and you didn't think twice—you threw yourself against Anakin with all the force you could muster, pushing him flat against the ground as you felt something heavy fly over you. You looked up to see that the Reek was dead, a few paces away, that it would have rolled right over you had you not heeded the warning. You turned to see Master Yuma's worried face, knowing that the Force command in your head came from her. You blinked, watching as she ran over to pull you up.

"Are you okay?" Master Yuma asked, quickly using one of her hands to block more blasts with her saber.

"Yes," you said emphatically, as Anakin jumped to his feet, his saber held up to block the shots from incoming destroyers. "Where's Obi-Wan?"

"I don't know," Master Yuma said, blocking more blasts with her saber as if trying to shield you from the battle. "I lost him in the battle—"

But a scream ripped through you in the Force, a scream so terrible you weren't sure if it was coming from outside of you or from somewhere deep inside. You felt as if your eyes clouded over, even though you could see it, beyond Anakin's outstretched arm. It was a sight that made your blood turn cold. You didn't know what you were doing; your lightsaber was slack at your side; you felt the fight around you, but you couldn't do anything to stop your legs from running toward them. But it was too late.

"Eha!!" you heard him screaming, crying, and your heart was thumping, pushing you faster toward the two figures huddled on the ground in the middle of the fight. You heard Anakin yelling for you, heard Master Yuma's terrified shriek as a blast nearly missed you, but you kept running until you were upon them.

"No!!" Dallum was screaming, crying, his arms shaking as he held the shoulders of the collapsed figure. "Eha, no!! Eha!!!" His shrieks tore through you as you knelt, reaching out your hands for her, turning her over in Dallum's arms. But the face that stared back at you was not seeing. Her eyes were blank. She was gone.

The whole world went black.

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Chapter 26: Chapter 26

Chapter Text

Chapter 26

It couldn't be. It couldn’t be.

You were screaming, but the whole world had gone silent. The colors streamed past your eyes as people moved, and blasters were fired, and lightsabers swung around in the air. You felt as if the whole world was muted, as if someone had put a quiet heaviness over everything, a slowness you barely registered through your eyes. You couldn't feel your hands, but you saw them gripping onto Eha's lifeless form, holding her arms, shaking her. You couldn't look at her face—you couldn't make sense of the way her eyes were open and not seeing.

It was all your fault. If only you didn't have this mysterious weakness with Count Dooku—if only you'd been conscious to fight him, if only he hadn't been able to take your mind prisoner—then this battle would never have happened, and Eha wouldn't be...wouldn't be...

The despair felt like a cloud around you, and your vision started to blacken again, starting at the sides of your eyesight and moving toward the center. You took a breath. You felt something moving toward you, though you seemed to have forgotten everything but Eha. Something warm was drawing nearer to you—something familiar.

You felt his Force presence wrapping around you like a blanket, as his arms wrapped around your immobile form. It was only then—only once Anakin was holding onto you, whispering into your ear—that the world started to right itself. Only now did you realize that the fighting had stopped: no more blasters were firing. The droids all stood still as the Jedi looked around, taking in their surroundings. You looked up, confused.

"It's going to be okay," you heard Anakin whispering in your ear, feeling him pulling you to your feet, holding you upright. "It will all be okay, little flea. Everything's going to be—"

But Anakin's whispers were drowned out by the voice of Count Dooku. You heard it with your ears, but it also felt like you were hearing it inside your head. Your legs started to give out again, but Anakin held you firmly upright. You breathed quickly, fighting to stay conscious.

"You have fought gallantly." Count Dooku's condescending drawl filled your mind, and you closed your eyes, shaking your head back and forth, trying to get him out. Your despair was filling you to the brim—Eha, and Dooku, and everything dark and horrid seemed to come to the front of your mind. Anakin shook you gently.

"Now it is finished," Count Dooku continued. "Surrender, and your lives will be spared."

Mace Windu responded harshly, but the words weren't making sense to your brain in this state. You opened your eyes, watching Dallum on the ground, sobbing, holding Eha's body. How had everything gone so wrong? How had this happened? You felt a sense of unreality so intense, you struggled to remember where you were and how you had gotten here. Surely, you would wake soon, and this would all reveal itself to have been a bad dream.

"Pity," Count Dooku was saying, and the voice reverberated throughout your insides. "You will have to be destroyed."

A sharp stabbing feeling ripped through the Force, and you forced your eyes open, gasping in air. You looked up, though no one else seemed to have registered the change, yet. Anakin tightened his grip on you.

"What is it, flea?" he asked softly in your ear. But it was Master Yuma who responded.

"They've come!" she yelled, and at this, the sound of the hum of many spaceships filled the arena. You saw them—open air ships flying over the tops of the colosseum, landing in the execution area, surrounding the surviving Jedi.

It was chaos. You heard someone shouting orders, heard the sound of running feet, heard the sound of the blasters firing as the droids came back to life. You dropped to your knees amidst the din, reaching your arms out toward Eha, taking her lifeless hand in yours. You looked up and saw, in a state of horror so dreamlike to you, Leve's body, unresponsive, not a few meters from where you knelt. Leve, who had only recently become a Padawan, lying dead, not feet from where Eha lay, never to rise again. Tiny Leve. Beautiful Eha. You couldn't take it. You couldn't handle the feeling that coursed through your veins.

"Y/N, we have to go NOW!" you heard Master Yuma shouting, and Anakin tried to pull you again to your feet, pulling you toward one of the transports.

"No!" you shouted, trying to get back to Eha, but Anakin was too strong. You watched as you were pulled away. "DAL!" you shouted, and this seemed to loosen Anakin's grip. You wrenched yourself free, running back to where Eha lay, in Dallum's arms.

"Dal, we need to go!" you sobbed, pulling on his shoulders. "Dal, come on, we have to go, we need to—" the sound of a blaster going off deafened you, as both you and Dallum flinched. He looked up at you.

"We can't leave her," Dallum said, clenching Eha's body as if his life depended on it. Everything was spinning. Anakin's arms were back around you, pulling your body away again, and you screamed.

"DAL! WE NEED TO GO!" you cried, flailing around, trying to get back to him, when you felt it. Calm washed over you, a calm that was coming through the Force. You felt the calm moving. You looked up and saw Obi-Wan sprinting toward Dallum, his heroic form backlit by the light from the blasters. Obi-Wan pulled Dallum away from the battle just in time—the blasts from the destroyer droids nearly missed him. Anakin's arms were a soft prison around you as he pulled you onto the transport, setting you back onto your feet next to Master Yuma, who was shouting instructions to the pilot. Obi-Wan and Dallum ran, flat out, and jumped on just in time. The transport pulled away from the arena and up into the air, shook by the blaster shots that hit its side.

"Is everybody okay?" Master Yuma yelled. The transport had raised sides, open to the air, and everyone was holding onto something. You stood, dizzily, in Anakin's arms. You heard a few responses to the positive, but you were shaking. Plenty of people weren't okay. Everything certainly wasn't okay.

"That's Dooku's ship!" Obi-Wan shouted, pointing at what looked like a speck from this distance. "Follow that speeder!"

Your head was aching. You heard Master Yuma trying to talk to you, but you couldn't register what she was saying. You felt like you might be sick. The ship jostled you, zooming in and out of the firing zone. Anakin's face leaned in toward yours, one arm still wrapped tightly around you.

"Y/N," Anakin said, his voice shaking. "Y/N, look at me."

But you couldn’t look. Your eyes were barely seeing. You couldn't acknowledge what had just happened. You couldn't make sense of it.

"Y/N, please," Anakin pleaded. "Please look at me." There was a level of Force command in Anakin's voice that you didn't have the power to ignore. You turned, looking up into Anakin's face, into his eyes. Suddenly, everything seemed to get clearer. You could hear the sound of the ship beneath your feet, feel your arms and legs. You breathed.

"That's it," Anakin said, his blue eyes shining, looking deep into yours. "It's going to be okay, Y/N. We're okay. We can get through this." You nodded, keeping your eyes on his.

"Though it seems we have a lot to catch up on," Master Yuma said quietly, "that can wait. For now, we need a plan of attack. Count Dooku must not leave this planet."

Anakin nodded, loosening his grip on you and turning to face his Master, waiting for instructions. It was only now that you realized the transport was being piloted by men in white armor. Who were they? How did they know where and when they were needed? You felt as if there were a piece missing to this puzzle. You watched as blaster fire erupted beneath the ship. Your mind churned.

"Aim right above the fuel cells!" Anakin shouted, and you looked up just in time to see the transport—the gunship, you realized—firing upon the federation starships in front of you. You breathed quickly. You must not lose focus—you were still in the midst of a battle. You were still a Jedi. You were still you.

"Our plan of attack," Obi-Wan began, giving instructions to you all, but you weren't listening. You were looking at Dallum, who sat on the ammo canisters in the corner of the ship. He was looking at nothing, his eyes staring into space. You pushed out with your feelings, pushed forward a feeling of calm towards him, through the Force. Though he didn't look up, you felt your Force presence acknowledged. You felt him joining you in your grief.

"We need to keep in mind," Obi-Wan was saying, "that our best plan of attack is all together. Count Dooku is a skilled swordsman, but we have numbers on our side." Anakin was nodding. You looked up and saw, in the distance, a hangar. The speck that was Count Dooku's speeder entered the hangar. Suddenly, your arms and legs felt cold.

No, you thought, blinking, breathing deeply. No, I can block him out. I can...

But everything was going dark. Not again, you thought desperately, but your vision was clouding, and you were losing all feeling. Ani! you tried to call, through the Force, but it was too late. Your body fell limp, and you watched as the gunship fell away from you. No—you watched as you fell out of the gunship, toward the sandy ground below.

"Y/N!!!" Anakin screamed. The last thing you saw was his panicked face, before you completely lost consciousness, before you even hit the ground.

***

"Y/N! Y/N, no, not you too!"

Pain. All you felt was pain. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, like every surface of yours was bruised. You felt a panicked feeling through the Force.

"Y/N, please, please wake up, I can't lose you too—"

You opened your eyes and blinked, looking blearily up into the bright purplish light of the Geonosis sky. You pulled your arm up in front of your eyes, squinting. Your vision focused on Dallum's face.

"Oh, thank the stars," Dallum breathed, pulling you up into a seated position. "Are you all right?"

"I think so," you said, coughing, trying to ignore the pain in your back and legs.

"We fell out of the ship," Dallum said, explaining the obvious. You looked around quickly.

"Where did they go? Where's Anakin?" you asked, looking from left to right, but seeing only sand dunes.

"They went after Count Dooku," Dallum said quietly. You looked him in the face.

"We have to find them. We have to help them!" You pushed at the sand, standing up slowly, wobbling because of the pain. Dallum stood quickly, reaching out a hand to steady you.

"Okay," Dallum responded, looking around. He sounded as if he were speaking from miles away, even though he was right here in front of you. It seemed like a part of him—maybe most of him—was not here. "This way, I think."

You and Dallum started walking through the Geonosian sand dunes. You breathed quickly through the pain, your mind on one thing. You had to get to Anakin. You couldn't lose any more today—you thought about Master Yuma, Master Obi-Wan, how they were about to face Dooku without your help. You thought about Henry and all of the others who had been in the battle. Were they all right? You couldn't think straight, but you knew you needed to get to Anakin, to help him, if you could.

"We shouldn't have come," Dallum said quietly, and you turned to see that his eyes were once again filled with tears, his face screwed up in pain. "We didn't have to—our Masters said we should stay behind, when we all got the distress call."

You felt your own eyes fill with tears, felt your mouth fall open as you watched Dallum's face. You knew who the "we" in this story was. Dallum didn't look at you, but kept pushing on through the sand, looking out in the direction you were walking.

"I told her we should stay, but—" Dallum bit his lip. "But she knew you were here. She knew you would have come, to help Master Yuma. She said," Dallum's voice broke. "She said she couldn’t live with herself if something had happened to you, and she'd stayed at the Temple."

A small noise erupted from your mouth. Finally, Dallum looked over at you. You knew he wasn't telling you this to make you feel bad. You knew that he knew—that the pain he felt now was shared only by you. He knew he could tell you this. He knew you would understand how he was feeling.

"You shouldn't have come," you agreed, quietly. Dallum nodded. The two of you continued to walk through the sand dunes, ignoring your injuries, thinking of the one you loved who had been lost.

You could see the hangar in the distance, but it didn't feel like you were drawing any closer. You worked to slow your breathing. You didn't know what was happening to you. All of that work you'd put in—years of listening to your Master, of perfecting your concentration, of making sure your emotions didn't interfere with the objective—it felt like it had all been erased in the last few days. You couldn't think straight. Your body didn't seem to be willing to do what your mind wanted it to do, and you knew it wasn't just Count Dooku. You felt jittery, raw, emotional—you felt wrong. You didn't know why this was happening, but you knew you needed to get to Anakin. If you were going to survive this mission, you needed to do it by his side.

You were jolted out of your reverie when you heard the sound of a ship taking off. You looked up, gasping. The ship that left the hangar was not the ship Anakin and your Masters had flown in there. Your heart stopped. What had happened to them?

"Count Dooku!" Dallum shouted, but there was nothing either of you could do but watch the ship take off into the sky.

"Ani..." you whispered, your whole body feeling frozen. You looked down at your feet, and then up at the hangar.

"They're okay," Dallum said, pulling you forward. "They have to be."

You swallowed these words and took them to heart. You started to run through the sand, Dallum following close behind, until you reached the base of the hangar.

Every move upward hurt. You climbed the rock, ignoring the pain from the bruises you'd sustained when you'd fallen. Your muscles knew what to do.

Dallum was a faster climber than you, due to his size, and as he climbed up onto the hangar, he looked around nervously before reaching back to pull you up. Your eyes took in the scene.

"Anakin," you breathed in relief. You saw him—he was stirring, looking around, from where he lay on the ground between Master Obi-Wan and Master Yuma. All three looked injured, but all three were starting to move.

"Y/N," Anakin mumbled, trying to push himself up when he saw you. You helped him to his feet, your arms holding onto his sides. He was all right. You were shaking with relief. "I was so worried, when you fell..." Anakin started, searching your face, looking you over.

"Ani, your arm..." you choked out, your breath getting caught in your throat. You had reached down to grab Anakin's hands, only to find one. Your eyes filled with tears.

"Let's worry about that later," Anakin said shakily, reaching his unhurt hand under your chin and pulling your face up to look at his. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," you let out, tears streaming down your face. You kept your arms around Anakin. You couldn't let go of him. You looked around.

"Master," you breathed, reaching out one of your arms toward Master Yuma as she stood. She looked around, surveying the hangar, before reaching out and taking your outstretched hand.

"We're all right," she told you firmly, looking you over with concern before moving her gaze over Anakin, and Obi-Wan, who was just pushing himself up into a standing position. You felt from Master Yuma a complex web of emotions, all of which she was silencing, for the moment, her mind focused on the mission at hand. "He's gone," she said, looking past you.

"Escaped, he has," you heard behind you, and you turned, watching Master Yoda walking in your direction, stowing his lightsaber in his belt. You swallowed your surprise at seeing him here. He was followed by more men in white armor. You gazed at them, trying to understand. "Back to Coruscant, we must go," Master Yoda said, sparing no pleasantries. "Immediately."

You turned back to Anakin, seeing him wince. Sweat covered his face.

"You need a medic," you told him, touching his cheek.

"On the ship," Master Yuma said, gesturing to the large Republic cruiser in the corner of the hangar.

You helped Anakin onto the ship, leading him into the medical bay gingerly. He shrugged out of his tunic, and you saw the extent of his injuries. A horrible guilt filled your insides like glue, but you pushed it aside, reaching to activate the medical droid. Anakin grimaced in pain when the droid started to disinfect his wound.

"I'm sorry," you said, your eyes filling with tears as you worked a bandage around Anakin's bare shoulder. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't been so vulnerable to Dooku, none of this—"

"Hey," Anakin said quickly, using his good hand to weave his fingers through your hair. "None of that. This is no one's fault but Dooku's." Anakin's beautiful features fell into an ominous look. "And we won't let him get away with it."

"But if I hadn't—" you choked out, looking down at Anakin's bandaged arm. Where there had once been a wrist and a hand, there was only air. The medical droid sealed Anakin's bandages, using its other metallic arm to inject Anakin's shoulder with medicine.

"We're together," Anakin said simply, "and we're alive. Nothing else matters." Anakin leaned his head forward, putting his forehead and nose against yours. You put both hands around his face, holding him there. You breathed in deeply, savoring his words, when you felt a disturbance through the Force. You turned your head, keeping your hands on Anakin's cheeks, looking in the direction of the doorway. Master Yuma stood there, watching you and Anakin with interest. She raised her eyebrows. You kept her gaze, both in confession and defiance. Anakin looked between you, holding his breath. The silent conversation you were having in the Force wasn't a conversation at all. It was as if you and Master Yuma were sitting, passively observing a truth you had both known for many years, but that neither of you had ever admitted to the other. You tilted your head to the side, still watching for your Master's response. Looking at Anakin, and then back to you, Master Yuma simply nodded once, her braids rustling gracefully. As she walked out of the doorway, you thought you felt a hint of joy radiate through the Force. You breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Together," you repeated, "and alive." Anakin nodded, a small, melancholy smile gracing his face. You heard more footsteps and dropped Anakin's face quickly, pulling yourself to a respectable distance.

"Are you...all right?" Obi-Wan asked, sweeping into the room, looking Anakin over with fatherly concern. Anakin nodded. "And you?" Obi-Wan asked, turning to look at you. For some reason, it seemed as if Obi-Wan were fighting back some kind of emotion when he looked at you—as if he were trying to remain guarded, when in reality he felt a deep familial apprehension. You nodded quickly. "We'll be leaving for Coruscant momentarily," Obi-Wan said hastily in response, bringing his voice back to the professionalism required of a Jedi. "I have to say—without the clones, this would not have been a victory."

"A victory, this was not," you heard from the doorway, and you saw Master Yoda striding in as the ship hummed beneath you, getting ready for take-off. Master Yoda's words gave you a chill that you felt deep to your core, a coldness you couldn't seem to shake. "The shroud of the dark side has fallen," Yoda continued, looking briefly into your eyes. "Begun, the Clone War has."

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Chapter 27: Chapter 27

Chapter Text

Chapter 27

The knighting ceremony, under normal circ*mstances, would have been bigger, and more overstated. Usually knighting ceremonies were attended by many of the Jedi who were on-world, and the council would recite lengthy passages from the old Jedi texts. Usually, knighting ceremonies were held for one Padawan at a time, or occasionally two. Now, though, a row of Padawans stood in the Hall of Knighthood, waiting for their turn.

It was a bittersweet feeling. Here you were, undergoing the process to solidify the achievement you'd worked toward for so many years. You'd finally done it—passed the trials and achieved knighthood. You were, you knew, one of the youngest to be granted this rank in recent memory. You were the youngest Padawan standing here today, a fact you'd made sure to remind Anakin of every chance you got after you'd both passed the trials. Still, the achievement—the celebration of it all—was clouded over by a heavy sadness.

The Order was expediting the knighthood process, trying to boost Padawans up in rank, you knew. There had been other knighting ceremonies in the two weeks since you'd returned from Geonosis. The council wanted more Jedi Knights to serve as generals, able to lead their own Clone battalions. You'd sat in on half a dozen strategy meetings, learning battle tactics, memorizing ancient wisdom on the art of war. The feeling of it all left a bad taste in your mouth, but you tried to push that out of your mind as you waited your turn. Truth be told, it was not the war that was imbuing this ceremony with a weighty feeling of grief. It was who was missing from this line of Padawans awaiting their knighthood.

You knelt with the others while Master Yoda read through some ancient passages. The council stood around you in a ring, and up above them, seated and watching, were a few other Knights, stragglers who had been around or those who had made it a priority to attend. As you glanced up, you saw Henry sitting among them. Seeva sat smiling behind him, still a Padawan, their Master sitting beside them. Your insides turned. You were grateful Henry and Seeva had come to show their support, you thought, and even more grateful they were alive. Still, their presence here only shed more light on the absences that were making your heart feel heavier than an entire fleet of starships.

Anakin turned his head and you glanced over at him, from where he knelt a few Padawans away from you in the line. He gave you a smirk, but dropped his pretense when he saw the look on your face. You felt his thoughts turn to them too, and you sighed.

There were five other Padawans in the line with you, those who had passed their trials at the same time you and Anakin had. Most of them were much older than you and Anakin were—it was uncommon for Jedi to undertake the trials at such a young age. You knew these Padawans only peripherally. On Anakin's other side, though, knelt Yumi, your other contemporary in this group. She looks proud, you thought gloomily, watching Yumi's smug face and upright posture as Master Yoda continued to read. Missing from the line were two faces you knew should be here with you, being granted the rank of Knight alongside you.

You missed Eha terribly. The grief held you hostage at random times—when you were training with Master Yuma for the trials, when you were attending tactical meetings, when you were eating dinner in the mess hall. The whole world felt like it was a different color now—like the tone of everything had changed from a lightness you now associated with childhood, to a darker hue, a blue feeling. You pushed these thoughts around in your mind, thinking of the nightmares that had started to come while you tossed and turned. You wouldn't be sleeping in that Padawan room again, you realized. This should be a happy thought—the accommodations granted to Knights were much roomier—but this realization made you feel even sadder.

Your thoughts turned to the other missing member of this group. You worked your breath in and out, trying to keep your face composed, to keep your Force presence from betraying your sadness. Dallum had, at least, said goodbye to you. You remembered it vividly—the evening after you'd come back from Geonosis, when Dallum had pulled you aside after dinner. He'd been wearing a traveling cloak, and his white saber was stowed in a hidden place. I can't do it anymore, he'd told you. I can't serve under this regime, under these conditions...not now. You hadn't tried to stop him, or tried to convince him to stay. You'd only thrown your arms around him and let the tears stream down your face as you'd watched him walk down the Temple steps under the setting Coruscanti sun.

"Time, it now is," Master Yoda said, and at this, you raised your head high. You were a Jedi. You knew that it was your job to allow change to come and go—to allow joy and sorrow to exist simultaneously. Only through their union would you find peace.

Anakin went first. You watched him look back at you as he was called to stand and step forward. His face was giddy—how much these circ*mstances seemed to suit him, more so than they did you. But, then again, Anakin cared for few people, and all of them—those that were living, anyway—were in this room, beside him. The way he preferred it. Obi-Wan stepped forward out of the circle of Jedi Masters and nodded to Anakin to kneel.

Both Obi-Wan and Yuma had been granted seats on the council upon the return from Geonosis. Many Jedi had been lost in the battle, including a few Masters with council seats. You thought the appointment fitting—your Masters were among the most skilled in the Order. They deserved seats in the decision-making chamber. You watched as Obi-Wan knighted Anakin with his blue saber, and sighed quietly as Anakin's Padawan braid was severed. Anakin picked it up, looking at it, before walking and standing to the side of the council's circle.

Yumi was next. You watched as Master Garris stepped down from the elevated seating area, where he'd been watching the proceedings. He stepped forward to knight Yumi, who was glowing, her beautiful angular features alight with pride. It made you happy, to see her happy, you realized.

The older Padawans were knighted one by one. For each of them, the council stood with their lightsabers lit in a circle, reciting ancient words. This ceremony had been performed for thousands of years. You couldn’t help the sneaking feeling in your gut that these rituals might soon be forgotten.

"Y/N," you heard Master Yuma call. "Step forward, please."

You stood and walked into the center of the council's circle. Master Yuma walked forward from their ranks, holding her green saber blade straight in front of her. You knelt.

Master Yuma, along with the rest of the council, recited the ancient passage. You bowed your head, and felt the heat from Yuma's saber blade as she knighted you on both shoulders. You looked up into her eyes and felt her acknowledgement of your grief, before she quickly and accurately severed your Padawan braid. You watched it fall to the floor. You were a Knight.

"I for one feel completely ready to lead my own battalion of Clones," Yumi told you after the ceremony, as the new Knights and other onlookers lingered casually. "It's high time we had some order around here."

You glanced at Anakin, who was talking to Obi-Wan. He glanced back, giving you a sly grin. You blushed.

"It seems you have other priorities," Yumi continued in her beautiful song-like voice, and you turned back to look at her, seeing a devious smirk on her face. You blushed an even deeper warmth.

"No—I mean—it's not—" you stammered.

"Don't worry, small fry. Your secret is safe with me, remember? I'm glad you're finally getting on that," Yumi responded, turning to look at Anakin as if he were a painting she was considering at a museum. "I mean, someone should." If your face grew any hotter, you thought, you'd be able to power a lightsaber.

"I wish they were here," you said quietly. Yumi's face fell.

"Me too," she admitted. She glanced at you, and then turned around, walking in the other direction, toward her Master. You sighed. Yumi had never been one for emotions. Great chat, as always, you thought, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Congratulations," you heard someone say behind you, and you turned. Henry stood in front of you, smiling, appearing to you in the Force as polite, respectful, and attentive as he always did.

"Thanks," you said, and you meant it. You really were glad to see him.

"Hard," Henry continued, watching you, "not having the whole group here, to see this, isn't it?" You nodded, swallowing. You felt Henry trying to comfort you through the Force.

"It is," you sighed. "I wish—"

"Hello, Henry," Anakin bellowed, a little too loudly, stepping slightly in front of you, as if to shield you from Henry's view.

"Congratulations, Anakin," Henry smiled at him. Anakin did not return his smile. You gave Henry an apologetic look from behind Anakin's shoulder. Henry bowed his head to you, and then nodded to Anakin, turning away. You sighed again.

"We did it, flea," Anakin whispered in your ear, turning to stand in front of you, his tongue poking through his smile, his joy full now that Henry was gone. Anakin was so beautiful, and so happy—you couldn't help but smile back.

"We did it," you repeated.

"Listen," Anakin continued, "I was thinking, tonight, to celebrate...maybe we could go somewhere."

"Somewhere?" you asked, raising your eyebrows, trying to hide your smile by biting your bottom lip.

"Yeah, somewhere," Anakin continued, his smile growing. The two of you grinned at each other like children who shared a secret. You would have thought that this...tension between you and Anakin would have gone away, now that you had both admitted your feelings for each other. On the contrary, the energy between you two had only grown, and changed. Your heart started beating faster. "Just the two of us," Anakin added, leaning in closer.

"Y/N," you heard the voice of your Master interject, and you and Anakin quickly leaned back to a respectable distance. "May I speak with you for a moment?" Master Yuma smiled at you, and then at Anakin, but you felt a hint of apprehension in her presence.

"Of course," you responded, nodding to Anakin that you would happily continue your discussion later. He nodded back, bowing awkwardly to Yuma before turning in the other direction.

"Will you walk with me?" Yuma asked, and you nodded, feeling a bit apprehensive yourself. You followed your Master out of the Hall of Knighthood and into the hallway toward the elevator.

You and Master Yuma had not discussed, with words, your new relationship with Anakin. It was plain and clear to you that she knew almost everything, and it was also clear that she knew you knew she knew. Still, it was as if you had made a pact to keep it subtext. It was less complicated that way, you thought. Now, though, you worried she might finally want to confront you about it, and the prospect of this made you nervous.

Master Yuma led you into the elevator and pressed the button on the panel to descend. You shifted uncomfortably between your feet. Once the doors closed, Yuma spoke.

"We need to talk about Geonosis," she said, and you looked over at her, trying to read through the feelings you felt in her presence.

"What about Geonosis?" you asked, thinking of all that had occurred on that planet, the wonderful and the horrifying.

"We need to talk about how you reacted," Master Yuma said quietly, "when Eha..." she cut herself off. This is not where you had thought this conversation was headed. You held your breath. "What if Anakin hadn't been there," Master Yuma continued, talking faster now, her voice growing more frantic, "to pull you out of the battle? What if I hadn't been there to ensure your safety? You lost your head completely, Y/N. You allowed yourself to be clouded over by emotion, and it nearly got you killed." Master Yuma's accusatory tone cut through you like a saber blade.

"I'm sorry," you responded softly, "I just—"

"I know you are grieving," Master Yuma said gently, putting a hand on your shoulder. "I know that this loss is very hard for you. But you cannot be putting yourself into battle—into positions where you will be in much more danger than we were in on Geonosis—if you are going to react to losses the way you did."

You didn't know what to say. You knew she was right, of course. You had lost your head completely on Geonosis, in every sense—you hadn't been able to control your impulses at all.

"I know," you responded. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me...I don't understand..."

"That brings me to my second point," Master Yuma continued, almost harshly, as the elevator doors opened on the main floor of the Temple. "Though you are no longer my Padawan, and you are no longer obligated to continue your training," Yuma said, walking forward while you jogged to keep up, "I think what happened with Count Dooku is evidence that we have more work to do."

"In what way?" you asked, confused, trying to keep up with Master Yuma's long strides.

"You need to be able to halt your own empathic abilities in the Force, when you wish," Master Yuma said, stopping at the end of the hallway in front of a large window that looked out over the city. She turned to face you. "You have mastered the skill of blocking others out of your own Force presence; now, you must learn to stop yourself from taking in the presences of others. You must learn to control your ability to intuit, to turn it on and off, so that when you an encounter a presence like Dooku's—" At these words, Yuma stopped herself, as if her voice had refused to come out. She swallowed quickly, looking out the window as if to calm herself. "If you encounter a Sith presence again, you must learn to stop them from taking hold of your consciousness, the way Dooku has done in the past." You realized, now that she was done with her speech, that Yuma was shaking. You reached out your hand to grip her forearm.

"Of course I will continue training with you," you replied quickly, your eyes wide. Yuma finally turned back to look you in the face. You felt her concern swelling through her entire presence, and you realized why her tone was so harsh. "You're completely right. I won't lose my head again. I understand what is at stake. I will do whatever you ask of me, to learn greater control of my abilities."

These words softened Yuma's harsh stare. Her face fell into an earnest look.

"Dooku could have killed you on Geonosis. Easily." Yuma's eyes shined with the intensity of her concern.

"I know," you responded. You still couldn't put a finger on it—why Dooku had chosen to take you prisoner in your mind, why he hadn't just killed you when he'd had the chance. None of it made sense.

"I just want to keep you safe," Master Yuma said softly. "I have always wanted to keep you safe."

"I know," you said again, throwing yourself into her arms. Yuma stroked the back of your head gently.

"I do want you to be more open to your emotions," Yuma continued quietly. "I am happy, that you're—that you're allowing yourself to feel." You both knew what she was referring to. You decided to keep silent. Master Yuma stroked your head, coming upon the small bit of short hair near your neck where your Padawan braid had been only moments before.

"It is weird," Master Yuma said, sighing, pulling away from you. "But you deserve knighthood more than most. I am very proud of you." You smiled.

"Thank you," you said, breathing these words in deeply. You didn't know what you would do without your Master, without her warmth, her discernment, her kindness. It was like having a whole family, all in one person.

"I'll leave you to celebrate on your own," Master Yuma said, her smile growing, a twinkle in her eye. "However you see fit."

At these words, you blushed deeply.

***

"Where are we going?" you asked again, giggling as Anakin pulled your hand, leading you through the streets of upper Coruscant.

"You'll see," Anakin responded, looking back to you with a smile. His beauty would never lose the ability to make your breathing stop, you realized. You put your free hand on your head, trying to keep the shall you'd wrapped around yourself in place.

You and Anakin were now of age, meaning you were allowed to roam the city as you wished. Still, tensions had been high since the beginning of the war. You'd been warned not to wander into unfamiliar territory, so as not to worsen the growing anti-Republic—and therefore anti-Jedi—sentiment. You'd settled for donning these shawls as a disguise. Anakin pulled you forward, his hand gripping yours tightly as you wandered through the streets and past buildings.

"We're here," Anakin said cheerily, coming to stop at a deserted street corner. The sun was just starting to set, casting a golden light over Anakin's features. You couldn't help yourself. You reached up, feeling the place where Anakin's Padawan braid used to be. Had his hair always been this soft? You brushed your hand up to rest it on the back of Anakin's neck.

"And where is 'here', exactly?" you asked him, glancing around with a teasing tone. The truth was, it didn't matter to you where you were. All that mattered to you was that you could keep inching closer to the person who'd brought you here.

"You don't remember?" Anakin asked, leaning in toward you, playing your game. These words gave you pause.

"Remember?" you asked, stepping back and looking around. It looked like any other Coruscanti street corner, apart from the beautiful boy standing in its middle.

"Okay, not here," Anakin said, his voice evoking a playful banter. He stepped over toward the building to his right, pushing the panel on the wall and lowering a ladder. "Follow me."

"I believe this is called trespassing," you called up to Anakin as he climbed the ladder, you following behind, laughing.

"You've done it before," Anakin replied cheekily, pulling you up from the ladder and onto the rooftop, a few stories up. You pulled the shawl off of your head and looked around, squinting in the golden sunlight.

"Is this...where..." you started to ask, stepping out onto the rooftop and remembering.

"Where you first experienced the wonders of Felucian Spice? Yes, yes it is," Anakin said, laughing, his face turning downward, giving his smile a slightly maniacal look.

"Stars," you said, remembering, "that must have been what...three? Four years ago?"

"This is also the place," Anakin continued, stepping forward to take your hand, "where you agreed to be my friend."

"I was already your friend," you said, laughing as Anakin grabbed your other hand, pulling you toward him.

"Not officially," Anakin said, leaning down and smiling without his teeth, his face looking mischievous. "If my memory serves, you also told me to quit bothering you." Anakin pushed his fingers gently through yours. You blushed.

"You didn't listen," you replied, pushing your lips together over your smile. "You still bother me." Anakin leaned his face in closer.

"Still want me to stop?" Anakin asked, leaning down and looking up through his lashes into your eyes, pressing your intertwined hands up near your shoulders. You shook your head, grinning shyly, before Anakin pressed his lips against yours.

After some time, you and Anakin broke apart. Though it had been weeks since your return from Geonosis, and you were starting to get more used to it, you still felt giddy every time Anakin touched you, like you were in danger of melting into the ground. Your whole body felt tingly, your face flushed.

"There is more in store for this celebration," Anakin said boastfully, dropping one of your hands and pulling you with the other toward the opposite edge of the roof. Here you saw that Anakin had draped a blanket over the metal, and there were a few colored bottles set beside glasses and a basket full of fruit and bread.

"Is that nectarwine?" you asked, still trying to get your head on after the kiss. You absentmindedly fingered the sea-glass necklace you wore.

"I want you to pretend," Anakin said, nodding and gesturing for you to sit on the blanket, "that we are still on Levangé. Just for tonight," he continued, laughing. "Tonight there is no war, and everything is as happy and carefree as it felt then, on that island." You nodded, smiling.

"I wonder how Theo is doing," you said, sitting down and working to uncork one of the bottles. "And Elodie, and Océane!"

You and Anakin drank and talked and watched the golden sky turn to pinks and purples, and then to blues. The sun set over your city and you couldn't help but feel happy, in spite of yourself. Though so many horrible things had happened, so many wonderful things had happened too. Maybe that's the secret of life, you thought. That good and bad continue alongside each other, and always will.

"How did you remember where this place was?" you asked, pouring Anakin and yourself more nectarwine. "How did you find it again, after all these years?" Anakin blushed at this question. You felt his presence turn to memories, memories you hadn't yet felt in his mind. Him, sitting on this rooftop, alone. You felt his answer before he said it.

“I came back here, every once in a while. To think.” He didn’t say more, but you felt him dwell on his long years of pining, the years he'd spent waiting for you to return his feelings. You felt his thoughts turn, for a moment, to his previous fears: he thought about how he used to wonder if you’d never want him, about how he used to think he couldn't live one more day without being close to you. You reached over, running your fingers softly over his forehead and down his cheek. He smiled, his cheeks turning pinker.

"I can't say I wish you'd told me sooner," you said slowly, wanting to communicate how you felt, but not having words big enough to express your feelings. "Because I know you tried. So, all I can say is, I'm sorry. I thought, then, that I was doing the right thing. It wasn't easy for me, either." Anakin turned to look at you.

"You don't have to apologize, Y/N," Anakin said, reaching his right hand up to place it over yours on his face. His new fingers shifted in his black glove, and you felt fear pierce his Force presence.

"What's wrong?" you asked, taking his gloved cybernetic hand and wrapping your fingers around it.

"Sorry," Anakin said softly, looking down, "I know it's weird." Anakin pulled his gloved hand out of yours, holding it up, moving his cybernetic fingers. "I know it's probably not...what you want, to reach out for me and to get metal, to want to touch my hand and touch artifice instead." Anakin's face turned bitter as he dropped his right arm, looking out at the skyline. You felt his insecurity through his Force presence, and you couldn't help yourself. You pulled your body over to where he sat on the blanket, positioning your face right in front of his.

"Look at me," you instructed softly, and Anakin obliged, looking up into your eyes. "All of you could be replaced by metal, and still, I would love you always," you told him fervently. Anakin's eyes were like glass, like an entire ocean. You fell into their depths willingly. "It is your heart I adore, your very soul," you continued, "not your flesh."

The feeling that entered Anakin's presence was so intense, so vast, that you couldn't fully classify it. He reached his metallic arm up and placed his gloved fingers behind your head, pulling you toward him.

This kiss lasted longer than the ones that had preceded it. The two of you fell into each other fully, the stars above you shining down like primordial spotlights, capturing something that would be meaningful even to the gods. You lost yourself in it.

"Little flea," Anakin whispered, pulling away, breathing quickly, "we can stop, if you want. If you—"

"I don't want to stop, Ani," you breathed, leaning against him on the hard rooftop and pulling his face back toward yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking you in the face. You nodded ardently, leaning in to kiss him. You then pulled away, thinking quickly.

"Unless you don't want—" you started, but Anakin was already pulling your face to his, pressing his body to yours like something missing that had finally found its home. You didn't need him to say anything else—his Force presence was screaming at you, his exact plans and desires apparent in the air as you let his kisses drag you away.

Afterward, you lay against Anakin, the blankets wrapped around both of you. It was a warm night. Anakin played with your hair, and you looked up at the stars.

"Lots of things are going to change, now," you whispered quietly, turning to look up into Anakin's eyes. He nodded, understanding that you were referring to something bigger.

"But some things will stay the same," he replied, grazing his lips over your forehead. "I have loved you always," Anakin continued, "and I still will, even beyond the scope of time and space." You nestled against his cheek.

"Whatever changes," you whispered into his ear. "I want you to remember..." You paused, and Anakin turned his face to look into your eyes. You smiled. "I love you always," you affirmed softly. "Just as much."

************************

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Chapter 28: Chapter 28

Chapter Text

Chapter 28

"This is useless," you grunted, wiping sweat from your brow and pulling your saber back into your favored defensive position.

"Imagine where you would be," Master Yuma said in her annoyingly calm, even tone, "if you gave up each time a skill proved difficult to master." You sighed.

"No skill has ever been this difficult," you complained, watching Master Yuma hold her green blade up in front of you. "I think we might need to admit we've finally come upon the limits of my ability."

Master Yuma co*cked her head, then clicked the button to switch off her lightsaber. The training room was now illuminated only by your saber blade, its green light still alien to you. You'd lost your lightsaber—the one you'd made yourself, as a youngling—on Geonosis. When you'd undergone the process again, you'd found yourself with a different colored blade. This had worried you; could this perhaps be indicative that your powers were changing? That perhaps you were losing some of your ability? Everyone had told you not to worry about it. You'd heard stories of Jedi who had forged different colored blades at different points in their training, you reminded yourself. And, of course, Master Yuma's saber blade was green. Surely the color didn't mean you were less powerful now; Master Yuma was one of the most powerful Jedi you knew. Still, while you swung your new blade around, something felt off. Different.

"Maybe we should try a different approach, today," Master Yuma said, exhaling slowly. You followed her lead, switching off your lightsaber.

"What do you mean?" you asked warily. Master Yuma gestured for you to follow her over to the meditation chamber adjacent to the training room. In here, the light was even lower, and the fabric-covered walls muted the sounds of the traffic outside. You couldn't hear the passing speeders from this room—all was quiet.

"Sit," Master Yuma instructed, and you let the air out of your chest, trying to push out your frustration.

"Master, it's been six months, and we haven't made any progress. Don't you think—"

"No," Master Yuma cut you off, putting her finger to her lips to shush you. You felt your eyebrows pull down into a frown. Master Yuma had insisted, after the Battle of Geonosis, that you learn greater control of your empathic abilities before you be given the task of commanding a battalion of clones in the war. At the time, you'd agreed, wanting to pacify your Master, and thinking that it wouldn't take long for you to learn the skills necessary to make sure no dark-sider was ever again able to incapacitate you through the Force. However, though you'd put all of your effort into it, you just couldn't seem to turn your intuition off. Together, you and your Master had tried everything. Still, you couldn't help but read in Master Yuma's presence now her patience, her understanding at your frustration, and, above all, her intense worry for you. You could even feel the presences passing by outside in the Temple hallway. Though you had been working to turn off your ability to intuit what others' were thinking and feeling, it seemed like all of the work you'd done had had the opposite effect. Your powers were growing more sensitive. It was like a bunch of hushed emotions were passing around you, all the time. You had to actively work to ignore them, to focus on the moment.

If you were being truthful with yourself, your eagerness to become a general had nothing to do with a desire to help the war effort. When you thought about the war, you felt an odd, displaced feeling in your middle. It was like taking a bite of something that didn't taste the way it should—something was just a bit off, but nobody else seemed to notice. Of course, you wanted to do your part to help preserve the republic, but you knew your desire to get onto the battlefield had more to do with joining him in the trenches than it did with becoming a soldier.

Anakin, now the leader of the 501st clone battalion, had been off-world more and more as the war had progressed. You longed to join him, to fight alongside him, to make sure you could protect him from harm. Above all else, you missed him terribly. When he was gone, thinking of him felt like physical pain. It felt as if the walls of the Temple, once your safe haven, were closing in on you, like you were trapped here.

You tried to wipe the scowl from your face as you sat on the meditation ottoman facing Master Yuma's. You recognized that she had felt where your thoughts had turned, and you breathed, pushing out your anger and frustration. You knew it wasn't anything but care and protectiveness that made Master Yuma so hesitant to let you join in the war effort. You knew this, and you knew also that, as a Jedi Knight, you weren't beholden to her judgement the way you had been as a Padawan. Though you'd thought about appealing to the council, about trying to convince them it was time for you to join in the fighting, you'd decided that you couldn't betray Yuma's trust like that. Not after everything she'd done for you.

"Okay," you said, breathing evenly now, your thoughts calmed. "What did you have in mind?" You felt the answer swirling in Master Yuma's thoughts, and you frowned.

"It won't be pleasant," Master Yuma began, looking at you with apologetic eyes.

"Shocker," you said, the sides of your lips pulling up in a small grin.

"I've been wondering for some time, now," Master Yuma explained, ignoring your sarcasm, "about the proper motivation. About how to make you want to shut out the presences of those around you." You held your breath, waiting for her to continue. "If you are willing..." Master Yuma paused, watching your face.

"I'm willing. What do you want to try?" You asked, impatience slipping into your presence once again.

"Instead of thinking of certain things, trying to distract you in combat," Master Yuma explained, her eyes lowering, "I want to try to...enter into a meditative state, with you. I want you to see if you can find a way to keep my presence out."

"And you want to motivate me to do so...by thinking of things..."

"That I believe you will find unpleasant. Yes." Master Yuma's eyes softened, showing her concern.

"Let's get on with it, then," you said, breathing out through your mouth and closing your eyes, flipping your palms to face them upward in your preferred meditation pose. You heard Master Yuma breathe out as well, and felt her discomfort and guilt. You pushed out with your feelings, trying to encourage her. Couldn't she see that your frustration wasn't with her? That your impatience had nothing to do with her training? You hadn't seen Anakin in over—

It began quickly. You felt yourself descending into Master Yuma's presence, feeling with her into the depths of her mind, into her memories. It was all so much more real in meditation than it was when you read her passing thoughts during combat. You felt as if you were experiencing Master Yuma's memories, as if you were there, seeing with her eyes. She was meditating on you, as a small child, watching Dallum push you down in the courtyard. You'd scraped your elbow, and started to cry. Yumi stood nearby, laughing with the others. You flinched, slightly, but it wasn't a bad memory, really. Not anymore. You wondered where Dallum was now. You remembered, though, that you were supposed to be blocking out Master Yuma's presence, and you began trying to extricate your mind from hers.

The memory shifted quickly. You felt with Master Yuma another memory, this one less familiar. It was a memory you weren't present for. Anakin and Henry were staring at each other murderously, the ground of a senate apartment littered with debris and shards of glass that were rumbling in the Force. Obi-Wan said something to calm the situation, and you watched as Anakin's face turned away, his angry façade falling into a pained expression. This tugged at your heart strings a bit more. You hated to watch him in pain.

The memory shifted again before you could get your bearings. Here was Anakin, again, charging at Count Dooku, trying to take him alone. You gasped. You watched in terror through your closed eyelids as Anakin was quickly overtaken by Dooku, watched as the love of your life screamed in pain, watched as the lower third of his arm was cut from the rest of him. You balled your open palms into fists. Master Yuma replayed this memory, and you worked in your mind, trying to pull each of the fibers of her thoughts away from you in the Force, trying to push away Master Yuma's memories, push her entire presence out of your head. It wasn't working.

Master Yuma's mind shifted again. You'd been here before. You stood, now, in the arena on Geonosis. You watched yourself kneeling over Eha, screaming for her, watched her dead eyes staring into nothing. You clenched your teeth with the effort, trying in vain to push Master Yuma's presence out of your mind, but you couldn't do it. It felt like each mind fiber of connection through the Force needed to be carefully disentangled—but the problem was, there were millions of fibers, and even as you used your effort to pull back two or three of them, more grew into place. You just couldn't sort through the mess enough to dispel Master Yuma's presence from your mind.

And, truthfully, there wasn't anything Master Yuma could show you that would motivate you in the way she was suggesting. She didn’t know that you were already plagued by visions much worse than the ones she showed you.

You hadn’t told anyone about the nightmares, the visions that came for you every night when you went to sleep. When you closed your eyes after a long day of training, you already saw unpleasant, terrible things. It started out like a fog, like some kind of cold darkness descending after you when you were alone. It felt like an echo of what Count Dooku had done to your mind, on Geonosis, and part of you worried that the Sith had infected your mind, somehow, that they'd left their mark on you. Whenever you were alone, if you closed your eyes to sleep, you saw all of it, every horrible vision Master Yuma could think of and so much worse. Anakin killing and maiming every member of that indigenous tribe on Tatooine; little Leve, unmoving in the Geonosis sand, her limbs splayed out from under her; Dallum’s screams as Eha stared into the black nothingness of death. Not Yuma, not even Anakin knew what you saw when you closed your eyes at night. You saw other things too, things that hadn’t happened. Things you hoped never would: a war torn galaxy; people fleeing from huge ships and men in white armor, men that didn't look like clones, men who were attacking people at will; a coldness seeping across the universe, into everything. You sucked in a breath.

"It's not working," you exhaled, opening your eyes to find Yuma staring at you.

"What was all that?" Master Yuma asked, her eyes narrowing. You felt your stomach drop. You'd forgotten to pull your presence back into yourself, in the effort of trying to wade through the tangle of Yuma's memories.

"Nothing," you said unconvincingly, looking down at your hands.

"That didn't look like nothing." Master Yuma's voice shook. You sat in silence for a moment, avoiding her eyes. Suddenly, the door to the meditation room opened.

"General Ohno," the clone stated, walking through the door and nodding to you and Yuma. You broke your meditation pose, flexing your fingers, sore from being balled into tight fists.

"Marlo," Yuma greeted the commander of her clone battalion. "What is it?"

"You're wanted in the council chambers, General," Marlo reported, all business. "It's urgent." Master Yuma nodded, and quickly stood up.

"We aren't finished with this," she mumbled under her breath, giving you a severe look before turning and following the clone out into the hallway. You groaned, watching her retreating form.

***

You walked through the halls of the Temple and back to your quarters slowly, lost in thought.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact reason for your unease. Was it that you weren't making any progress? New skills had always come easily to you, and you could admit that the difficulty you were facing now, in trying to halt your intuitive abilities, had you feeling a little downhearted. But—no. It wasn't that.

Was it the war? The general emotional atmopshere of the Temple and its inhabitants had changed drastically in the last six months. You knew this better than anyone, being able to sense the feelings of those around you. But that didn't seem right, either.

Was it restlessness? This was the longest you'd gone without a mission since you were a youngling. You knew the long days of training in the Temple, and the days of studying strategy while Master Yuma was away, were starting to wear on you. But—no. You knew that wasn't it.

The feeling inside of you now felt heavy, dark, and empty. It was like your insides could contain an echo—there was too much space. It frightened you. You were feeling lonely, you realized. You felt alone, very much alone. You couldn't share with Master Yuma all of the things that troubled you. You'd lost your best friend, you'd lost some of your other old friends, and you barely ever saw any of the friends you still had in the Temple. When Anakin was away, it felt like you were alone in the universe, the center of your own very empty galaxy.

You sighed. There was nothing you could do, you realized, but bear this feeling the best you could. There wasn't a way out of this emptiness. You simply had to endure it.

You pushed the panel on the wall and entered the opening door into your Jedi apartment, kicking off your boots. The apartments afforded to Jedi Knights were simple, but comfortable. The one-bedroom unit had a spacious living room with seating and a table, attached to a kitchen that contained all of the basic fares and necessary appliances. The bedroom, too, was comfortable. However, as of late you'd found the big bed too empty. Sleep had been torturous, whenever you'd been able to sleep at all.

You flicked on the lights and glanced out the window at the setting Coruscanti sun. The best part of this new apartment was by far the windows—they were much larger than those in your Padawan dormitory. You loved the natural light. You stood, for a moment, admiring the view, allowing the pangs of your empty feeling to overwhelm you, wiping a quick tear from the corner of your eye.

It was only then that you felt the disturbance. Faster than lightspeed, you pulled your presence back into yourself, assessed your surroundings, and tensed your muscles, readying to strike with your hand on your saber. In this millisecond of preparation, you reached out with the Force, trying to sense what the danger was. But—

"Oh," you breathed, feeling the Force presence in the air and almost collapsing as you turned, quickly, and reached out for him.

"You're usually more difficult to sneak up on," Anakin said in a low, quiet voice, his smile illuminated by the golden sunset streaming in through the blinds.

"Ani," you sighed contentedly, putting your arms around his neck and holding yourself close to him, allowing his presence to wash over you, bathing you in the feeling of rightness and peace.

"I missed you, too," Anakin said, a little louder, putting his hands on either side of your face and pulling you back so he could look at you. "More than you know," he continued, leaning in and holding his face inches from yours.

"What happened on Florrum?" you tried to ask, but Anakin was pressing his lips to yours, enthusiastically, without restraint. He lifted you up into his arms and placed you on the counter in the kitchen.

"I'd rather discuss that later," Anakin whispered hastily, slyly sliding your knees apart with his hand and stepping between them.

"That sounds reasonable," you agreed breathlessly, completely amenable to his desires. You felt Anakin's shoulders move as he laughed, then felt him press his hands more firmly around the sides of your neck, kissing you with reckless abandon. You loved Anakin when he was like this—when the passion of your reunion took away some of his politeness, when he was just a little bit less careful with you, when he couldn't help himself. He grabbed onto you now, his Force presence blaring his joy into the air, and didn’t let go.

You woke up the next morning with the feeling that you'd slept longer than usual. With Anakin next to you, your nightmares had evaded you, and you smiled, your eyes still closed, reaching out for him through the sheets. Your hands came up empty. Your eyelids blinked open.

You saw the light of the morning through the blinds on the bedroom window, saw from a distance the traffic passing by outside. You saw the sparse room and soft white sheets mussed. But you were in this room alone.

Panic struck your heart quickly, and your eyes widened. Surely Anakin couldn't have left already? Surely he wouldn't be gone again so soon, leaving you alone here, with your feeling of emptiness, your impossible training, your nightmares—

You got out of bed, breathing a little too quickly as you walked, barefoot, into the kitchen.

Here you let out a slow, relieved sigh. Anakin stood with his back to you, working the caf machine, his tunic tied sloppily, the hair on the back of his head messy from sleep. You glided over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

"Good morning," he said quietly, and you felt him grab your hand and pull it up so he could kiss your fingers. You stepped back as he turned to face you.

"I like your longer hair," you smiled, reaching up to run your hand through his new, short curls. Anakin smiled back, the praise causing a slight pink to grace his cheeks.

"I like your everything," Anakin laughed, tracing your face with his fingertips. You stood this way, looking into each other's eyes, for a long moment. The caf machine beeped at you.

"What have I missed, while I was gone?" Anakin asked as he turned and started to pour the caf into small cups. The way Anakin phrased this question was odd—as if he were being careful, as if he were worried about the answer.

"Absolutely nothing," you grumbled, taking the cup from Anakin and following as he lead you over to the couch. "Everything's been the same, here. Painfully so." Anakin sat next to you on the cushions and put his arm around you, leaning over to kiss the top of your head.

"I doubt that," Anakin said, still careful.

"It's true," you answered, staring straight ahead. The only updates were ones that you needed to keep to yourself. "I'm sure you have much more exciting stories."

"When does Master Yuma think you'll be ready? You know, to join us—"

"Tell me about Florrum!" You cut him off, avoiding his eyes. "You were there for so long—has the situation improved, at all?"

"Well," Anakin said, grinning, leaning forward to put his cup onto the side table. You knew he was gearing up to tell you of all of his strategic maneuvers, all of his triumphs as general in the war. He truly was a natural at this, and though you admired his skill, as always, there was a part of you that felt a disquiet. Was it because you were envious? You didn't know. For now, though, you were happy to change the subject.

"We had secured the western front," Anakin was saying, and you snapped your attention back to focus on his story. "Rex was—"

But Anakin was cut off by a beeping, coming from the chrono he'd taken off last night. It sat on the kitchen counter, blinking up the codes from its illuminated face. Your heart sank so far, it seemed to you it had disappeared out of your body all together.

"Not yet," you said softly, your eyes widening, your breathing fast. "You can't leave again already." Anakin kept his arm firmly around you, but you could feel his eyes on your face. You realized you'd absentmindedly grabbed onto the sleeve of his tunic with a vice-like grip. You loosened it, with effort.

"We don't know what it is," Anakin said, his voice unsure, leaning over to kiss your cheek before getting up to check the chrono and read through his summons. "It could just be for a strategic meeting, or—" Anakin broke off, turning his head back toward the direction of the bedroom. It was only then that you heard another beeping sound. You got up quickly, going to the door.

"It's coming from my chrono," you whispered, your panic turning to confusion. Anakin's face broke into a wide grin. You turned around to look at him, your eyebrows upturned, not understanding. "I'm...being called to the briefing?"

"It's about time," Anakin said smugly. "We're back!"

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Chapter 29: Chapter 29

Chapter Text

Chapter 29

"Yuma," Master Windu said in a serious tone, "you have the floor."

You quickly pulled your head up, snapping your mind back into attention. You stood in the middle of the council chambers, atop the High Council Tower, surrounded by the seated council members. You'd rarely been in this room—under normal circ*mstances, you would have been reverent, and fully focused.

But you felt the worried presences around you now as if your head was in a beehive. The buzz of the different feelings and thoughts had started to drown out the spoken words of the council members. The hum around you had even begun to drown out your own anxiety about why you had been called to this meeting—you were desperate to return to the field, but you had a sneaking suspicion that Master Yuma was not about to let you participate in this new mission without a fight. The hum swelled, as if many people were speaking, rather than one person. You shook your head, trying to block it all out. You knew you needed to focus.

"Thank you," Master Yuma said, giving you a brief and significant look before addressing the other council members. "Though I have already made my thoughts clear on this subject, I find my must repeat myself—while Y/N's force abilities have been an asset to us in the past, it is my position that under the current circ*mstances, they will be a liability on the battlefield. Given her experience with Count Dooku on Geonosis, I firmly believe that she should not be asked to serve in this war until we are able to make more progress with her...enhanced empathic abilities."

You felt your face flush with anger and defiance, but you worked to control your reaction. You kept your eyes blank, glancing at Yuma's worried face before looking beyond her, out the window toward the teeming city below. You breathed in and out. You wiped yourself of emotion, pulling your Force presence densely and minutely into yourself.

"With all due respect, Yuma," Master Plo Koon replied, looking between you and your former Master, "isn't Y/N the one who saw through Count Dooku's pretenses before the war even started? If we had listened to her warnings—"

"I am not trying to belittle nor diminish my former Padawan's abilities," Master Yuma quipped harshly, cutting off the end of Master Plo's sentence. "I, more than anyone else, understand that her abilities far outstrip many in the order. But it is the nature of her abilities, not their potency, that we must consider now. She is not ready to face the realities of war."

You kept still, allowing yourself to focus outward and take in the presences around you. You didn't turn around to look at them all, but you felt in the minds of the council members that Yuma's words were falling on deaf ears. Your insides grew spiky at the thought—with fear, or with excitement, you did not yet know. You held your breath.

"Your perspective on this is valuable, Yuma," Master Windu replied, his voice full of authority. He turned to Yuma and leaned closer, his tone pacifying. "But we cannot afford to spare either of you any longer. The situation on Felucia has worsened. This could turn the tide of the war altogether." At his words, you felt Yuma's frustration swell, and something else rising in her presence. It felt like electricity, shocking her from her insides. It was panic, you realized.

"Agree with Master Windu on this, I do," Master Yoda stated in his sage voice. "Worthy of our faith, Y/N has proven herself to be." You turned to look at Master Yoda, feeling a burst of affection. Why could Master Yoda find it within himself to have faith in you, when your own Master could not?

"Very well," you heard Yuma reply shortly, and you avoided her eyes, turning instead to look at Obi-Wan, who sat on the other side of the circle, his legs crossed casually.

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan said, meeting your gaze before turning to face Yuma, "Y/N might better serve under your leadership on this mission." You wrinkled your eyebrows, confused. "As Commander," Obi-Wan clarified, "of the 415^th." The 415^th was Master Yuma's clone battalion.

"We have new battalions that need leadership," Master Windu protested, but Master Yoda held up a small, wrinkly hand.

"Time to train a new battalion, there is not," Master Yoda said. "Right, Obi-Wan is. For the moment, serve as Commander Y/N will."

"If she does well," Obi-Wan said, a twinkle in his eye, "she can advance in rank when we return from Felucia."

"Right," Master Windu agreed, his intimidating stare lingering over you for a moment before he looked down at his holopad. "It's settled, then. Now, we have other business to attend to before we adjourn. Y/N, you are excused."

***

"Commander," you whispered angrily, "is the rank of a Padawan."

"At least you're coming with us," Anakin whispered back, giving your hand a small and inconspicuous squeeze. The two of you hurried toward the hangar, your Jedi cloaks sweeping behind you.

"As if I am not the youngest Knight in recent memory," you continued, like he hadn't said anything. Anakin sighed. "As if I am not more skilled than half of the generals in the Army of the Republic."

"You're more skilled than all of the generals," Anakin replied, his face forming a small, teasing smirk. "Present company excluded, of course."

"Then why?" you continued, Anakin's attempts at distracting you failing miserably. "Why does Master Yuma treat me like I'm weak? Like I need protecting?"

Anakin didn't respond. The truth was, you did need protecting. Anakin knew it, and so did Yuma. Your empathy, for all its uses in interrogation, in meditation, in spiritual practice, was dangerous when it came to war. Your tendency to hesitate before the kill, your reluctance to make the difficult choices required of a soldier, your inability to face darksiders without succumbing to their influence—all of these things meant that you were not to be trusted on the battlefield, at least, not on your own. And it was a good thing that you would not be on your own, Anakin reasoned, looking at your face as you huffed along beside him, your angry pout causing a warm and spiraling feeling to rise in his torso. You would be with him, and he could protect you. That was all that mattered.

"Yuma is overreacting," Anakin said quietly as the two of you emerged out of the blast doors and onto the large hangar. This, he thought, was at least a partial truth. "Because she's worried about you." Anakin leaned away from you and took a step to the side, making sure none of the clones that littered the hangar would have any reason to suspect his relationship with you was anything more than professional.

"But you aren't," you said, turning to Anakin and giving him a blazing stare, your eyes piercing. "Right? You have faith that I can do this?" Anakin's insides flipped. How he had assumed he could keep his thoughts to himself around you, after knowing you so long, he didn't know.

"Of course you can do this," Anakin replied swiftly, taking a tentative step toward you and holding your gaze. "I know you can do this." And he wasn't lying, not really. The two of you, together, could most certainly take on any battalion, droid or otherwise.

You stared at Anakin for a brief moment, narrowing your eyes, looking for any sense of falsehood. Anakin gulped. Then the sound of familiar footsteps interrupted your standoff, and he watched you subtly take a step away from him, putting on a casual demeanor.

"Are you ready?" Obi-Wan asked, glancing at Anakin before turning attentively to look down at you, paying you extra attention. You nodded fervently, and Anakin saw a hint of irritation cross your face.

"Where's Yuma?" you asked, keeping this frustration from entering your voice.

"Already aboard, assembling the 415^th," Obi-Wan answered, looking more closely at your face, as if to make sure you were okay. You nodded at him, keeping your face stoic, but Anakin noticed a bit too much color in your cheeks. Obi-Wan turned to face him. "Anakin, you'll need to assemble the 501^st on the right flank vessel," Obi-Wan instructed, "and then meet us for briefing on the command ship."

"Right," Anakin said, his mind snapping back into leadership mode. It was hard to reconcile these two sides of him—the side he was with you, and the side he was with his clones, his soldiers.

After making sure Rex had his battalion accounted for and in tip top shape according to protocol, Anakin boarded the command ship, walking swiftly through the halls as the vessel took off. As he approached the forward command center, he heard voices.

"...just want to make sure you understand the gravity of the situation," he heard Yuma's voice say.

"I understand, Master," Anakin heard you reply, your voice devoid of color. Anakin pressed the panel on the wall and the door opened. You and Yuma stood on opposite sides of the command deck, all but glaring at one another. Obi-Wan's tired face emerged between you. Next to Obi-Wan stood Marlo, the captain of Yuma's clone force.

"Good, we're all here," Obi-Wan said, nodding to Anakin. "Yuma, if you please."

"Of course," Yuma replied, turning away from you somewhat reluctantly. "As you all know, the situation on Felucia has come to a critical point." Yuma summoned a memory chip from atop the navicomputer with the Force, dexterously catching it between her fingers and sliding it into a spot beneath the command center's holo-deck. A holographic display of the Felucian terrain rose from the deck's consol. "The separatist army has taken control of the eastern front, and with it, they've gained control of the farming villages on this side of the river." Yuma pointed out the snaking form of the body of water in the middle of the hologram. "Our forces have managed to hold the line here, keeping control of the Commerce Guild headquarters, but the droid armies continue to launch attacks on the front." Yuma stood up straight, eyeing her fellows, taking on the posture of General. "If we lose the headquarters, we lose the planet, and with it the Perlemian trade route."

"Once we arrive with our reinforcements, it shouldn't be hard to retake the eastern villages," Anakin said, co*cky as ever. Yuma shook her head.

"You mustn't underestimate the jungle environment. We're losing Clones to more than droids on Felucia." Yuma's face was tight.

"What does that mean?" you asked, looking between Yuma and Obi-Wan.

"It means poisonous fauna," Obi-Wan answered, stroking his beard and looking down at the holographic map, deep in thought. "It means disease, and bugs. It means jungle rancors," Obi-Wan looked up at you all somberly. "We'll need to strategize around the limitations of the planet."

"Certainly," Master Yuma agreed. "Now, I suggest all of us retire to get as much sleep as possible during the journey. Rest will be hard to come by once we arrive." You nodded, your eyes glazed over. Anakin took a step closer to you as Obi-Wan turned away to give orders to the pilots. Yuma continued to converse in hushed tones with Marlo, discussing various possible strategic maneuvers.

"Just like old times," Anakin whispered, feigning an unserious tone. You didn't look up. Your eyes were unfocused, clouded. Anakin reached for your arm, giving it a small shake.

"Except for, you know. A galactic war," you responded slowly, finally focusing your eyes in on his face, giving him a small smile.

"That," Anakin said quietly, glancing at Obi-Wan's turned back before reaching up to stroke your cheek, "and, now I can do this." Anakin watched your face relax as he softly pulled his fingers across your jaw, gently placing his thumb on your bottom lip.

"Rest," Anakin heard Master Yuma's voice repeat from behind him, and the two of you quickly stepped away from each other, blushing.

***

You were running through a hot, arid desert, your skin scorched from the sun, your face bruised. You screamed into the hot, dry wind—for Anakin, for your Master, for anyone who could come and help you—but you heard no response. The dry air caused you to choke, and you fell down onto the ground...through the ground.

You were topsy turvy, wrong side up. You fell through space until you landed, with a thud, on a snowy planet. Men in unfamiliar white uniforms surrounded you, and you put your hands up, as if to block your face. Where was your lightsaber? You felt your side, but couldn't find your weapon in time—the men started to shoot. You saw the light from the bullets...

You blinked, and suddenly, you were surrounded by lava. Someone was coming, you knew, someone you needed to fear. You looked around, wondering where to hide. You blinked tears out of your eyes. It was all too much, this anger, this hate, this horrible feeling. It felt like everything in you was burning, like everything was wrong, like nothing would ever again be right. You felt a lurch somewhere in your middle.

You blinked again, and suddenly, you were staring into a pair of bright, violet eyes, intent on the kill...

"No!" you screamed, sitting up with a start, flailing your arms in the air, looking around for some weapon, for something with which you could defend yourself. You breathed heavily, gasping, trying to figure out where you were.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to disturb you," you heard a familiar voice say. You blinked again, pushing your sweaty hair away from your face. Your breathing calmed slightly.

You were in your bunk, on the command ship, and Yuma was entering to sit on the bunk across from yours. The dreams that had plagued you for months flashed again through your mind, but you quickly pushed the thoughts out of your head, pulling into yourself, sucking your presence out of the air.

"It's okay," you said, quickly, swinging your legs off the bunk so you could face your former Master. "What is it?" You avoided Yuma's eyes, feeling the worry in her presence fill the cabin.

"I wanted to make sure..." Yuma began, her voice sounding hesitant. You finally looked up to meet her gaze. "I wanted to see if everything was okay," Yuma corrected.

"Everything's fine," you said in a calm voice. You knew you weren't fooling anyone. Your hands were still shaking. You clasped them on your lap, trying to calm yourself.

"I also wanted to make sure you knew," Yuma continued, watching you carefully. "That my reluctance for you to join me and my batallion has nothing to do with my estimation of you, as a fighter or as a Knight." This was a loaded statement. You knew there was more in Yuma's presence behind these words.

"I know," you said, in a mollifying tone. You had to remind yourself to breathe.

"With great power," Yuma said, staring you in the face with her kind eyes, sparkling as they did against the gold rings in her braids, "Often comes a great burden. You are very powerful, Y/N. You thus have a great burden to carry."

"I know," you repeated, your voice shrinking.

"That is why it will be crucial, while in the midst of battle, for you to follow my orders exactly." At these words, you felt a flame spark inside you—the flame of the old resentment, the frustration that had grown in the six months you'd been benched from the field.

"I know," you responded flatly, staring at the wall. Yuma's presence softened.

"Is there anything...you feel the need to confide in me?" Yuma asked quietly, and you felt in her presence that she was dwelling on your nightmares, the visions you'd accidentally shown her in the meditation room, and the visions that she had read from you in your sleep. Yuma's perception through the Force was flawed when compared with your own—she didn't read the fully formed images, thoughts, or feelings from you. Instead she read an echo, as if she were watching your thoughts through muddy glass, or as if she heard the inferior version echoed across a large cave. She didn't know the true essence of what plagued you in your sleep.

For a moment you wanted to confide in her—tell her everything that you'd seen, tell her how deep the fear and terror was in each of your dreams. You wanted to cry into her shoulder and allow her to stroke your hair, the way she used to. You wanted her to tell you everything would be okay. But you held back—you knew that not even Master Yuma could make all of this okay. And you didn't want her to think you weak, not now, when you were finally being allowed to join in combat, against her wishes. You felt yourself close a shell around your vulnerability. You wanted to prove to Yuma that you could be a true soldier.

"No," you said, trying to be convincing, but failing. "I'm ready for this," you added, swallowing as you looked into Yuma's eyes.

"I know you are," Yuma said, smiling warmly at you and patting your head softly as she stood. Behind these words, Yuma's presence was unsure, fearful. You sighed.

"You should get some sleep," you told Yuma, and she nodded, taking this as her cue to leave your quarters. She walked to the door and pressed the panel on the wall.

"Rest well," Yuma said softly, turning back to look at you before exiting into the hallway of the ship.

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Chapter 30: Chapter 30

Chapter Text

Chapter 30

"Commander," Captain Marlo said again, and only this time did his words fully rouse you out of your brain fog. "We've reached orbit."

"Right," you nodded, pretending as if you hadn't just lost your head a little bit. You had been standing at a hallway viewport, watching the ship come out of hyperspace, when that same feeling of buzzing presences had descended on you. The hum in this ship was anticipatory, anxious, battle-hungry—in these presences were the sentiments of soldiers preparing for war. But you'd found yourself getting drawn in by their impressions. And then the humming had shifted, to other feelings, other...places? You'd felt others, children, families, the sounds of birds, the steps on cobblestones, speech in alien tongues...but it was impossible, surely, for you to sense such things when you were this deep in space. Focus, you reminded yourself. You mustn't let your sensitivity to the Force plague you now.

You followed Marlo to the main hangar, where Yuma, Obi-Wan, and Anakin were preparing to depart the command ship. Even though you'd only been separated for a few hours, the sight of Anakin made your heart leap, made your presence relax. A smile fell upon your face as if involuntarily. Anakin grinned back, and you felt a similar swell of emotion in the Force, coming from him.

"Everything is prepared, General," Marlo told Yuma, and Yuma saluted, giving the hand gesture that signaled to Marlo that it was time to return to his troops.

"We've just had word from the existing battalion at the Guild headquarters," Yuma told you all. "Their scouts have intel that the Droid Legion has split into three factions, aiming to strike the front from different angles." At these words, Master Yuma pulled out a handheld holoprojector. A hologram of a rudimentary map arose between you.

"Y/N and I will lead the 415^th to cut off the southern platoon," Yuma instructed, pointing to a dot on the map. "Anakin, you'll take the 501^st around here, on the southeast. Obi-Wan—"

"The 212^th and I will take the eastern side," Obi-Wan interrupted, nodding. "I assume time is of the essence." You felt a slight disturbance in the Force and looked over at Anakin, seeing him attempt to hide the traces of his pout, his eyebrows downturned.

"Yes, it is," Yuma agreed, pocketing the holoprojector. "May the Force be with you both."

"May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan replied, turning to the other side of the hangar, where his ship sat ready to take him to join the 212^th on the flank vessel. A pause hung in the air as Anakin stood, as if caught in a Force hold, half-turned away.

"I—" Anakin swallowed, looking pained as he glanced between you and Yuma. You felt your face flush.

"We'll see each other again soon," Yuma told Anakin bracingly. You felt something move in the Force, something between Yuma and Anakin. You scowled, sensing the reason behind Anakin's distress, and finding it a little insulting.

"May the Force be with you both," Anakin sighed, and with that, he turned to follow Obi-Wan to board his own ship, off to join the 501^st.

As the command ship was to remain in orbit, you followed Yuma onto one of the landing craft, holding onto the railing on the side as the ship took off. You stood facing at least one hundred clones, all armored and ready for battle. Marlo too had donned his helmet—you could only recognize him by the markings on his torso plate.

"What's our play, General?" one of the clones asked Yuma. You wished you knew his name.

"The Serrulean ambush," Yuma instructed, updating her holopad quickly as the lander made its way down to the surface. The other clones all received their instructions in their armor, and you heard rumbling chatter. You quickly ran over this tactic in your head—the Serrulean ambush was a stealth maneuver, devised to sneak up on the enemy from multiple sides. Clever, you thought, to use the Legion's own plan against them. You'd had all the war tactics memorized for months, but you still ran over this one in your head over and over again, remembering the role the Commander and General must play at every turn. There were no viewports aboard this lander, only the shaking of the ship and the feeling of movement. The air was tense and thick, a dingy remnant of what it must smell like in the clones' quarters. You felt the anticipation in the Force. You were surprised to feel the ship touch down onto the surface so quickly.

As the lander's doors opened, upward toward the sky, and clones spilled out, you felt a blast of warm, humid air hit your face. It was not like the pleasant warmth of the air on Levangé—this air was assaulting, wet, and muggy, even slightly foul smelling. Within seconds you felt your hair sticking to your forehead, your body beginning to sweat under the thin armor you had put on for the first time. The Jedi insignia stood out, red, on your shoulder.

"Serrulean formation," Yuma said quietly into her comm, and as the lander pulled up from the jungle, you watch the clones disperse in perfect harmony. You followed Master Yuma at the head of the remaining group of clones, making sure your steps were quiet.

The jungle was truly unlike anything you'd ever seen. It was overgrown, colorful, and bright. The trees and the greenery—if you could call it that, multicolored as the flora around you was—loomed high above the troops. You'd never seen plants that looked like this, or plants of this size. Some of the plants resembled those that grew in the Temple gardens, in shape at least—but these were massive, as big as the tallest trees on Batuu, and brightly colored. You saw in the distance several rocky outcrops, and, farther away, what looked like mountain ranges. The ground underneath your feet was wet, soft, and warm. The brightness seemed unnatural, and it wasn't only the plants; the sky was a bright yellow, with purplish clouds hanging low over the jungle. Everything around you gave you that sickly, uncanny feeling—as if these colors were dangerous.

Almost as if responding to your train of thought, you felt the disturbance before the danger, and you quickly reached out a hand, pulling the clone to your left out of the way just in time. Through no provocation, the giant succulent to the left of the group, a bright purple and lime green, erupted like a geyser, orange gas pouring out into the air right where the clone had just stood. The group processed this silently, pausing to watch the plant continue erupting before all of the orange gas disappeared from the air. The clone you had saved saluted you, and you saluted back, finally feeling useful. Yuma patted you on the arm, giving the group of clones the silent hand command to continue forward.

The group walked for some time through the jungle, the clones holding their guns co*cked. Your lightsaber hung at your side, as you were waiting for Master Yuma's cue to light it—lightsabers were to remain unlit during all stealth maneuvers. You felt outward through the Force, sensing the vibrations through the ground, feeling forward for any danger. That's when you felt them.

About fifty yards ahead of you, you felt the pounding of metallic feet and the hover of Armored Assault Tanks. They weren't moving in your direction, but perpendicular to your path, in what you assumed was the direction of the Guild headquarters. You reached forward, lightly placing your hand on Yuma's arm. She nodded without looking back at you—she'd felt them too.

At Yuma's hand signal, you and the clones fanned out through the dense underbrush, taking on a perfect Serrulean attack formation. You saw Yuma using her comm to signal silently to the other clone groups. You walked forward slowly, holding your breath, until you were in attack position. The droid troops were just paces in front of you now, and you looked around, seeing the clones readying themselves. You waited for the signal, trying to breathe out your fear.

It happened all at once. At the signal, you leapt into the air, lighting your saber in one fluid motion. You had at least ten droids halved and in pieces on the ground before any of them had turned to regard your attack. But they were turning now, and you heard the clones behind you, their blasters going off with the sound of the lasers. The battle droids were all over the place, unsuspecting as they were of your attack. You'd gotten through a large chunk of them before the Amored Assaut Tanks had the chance to turn around.

You felt it before it would happen and shouted at the clones nearest you to get out of the way. You jumped again, flying into the air like a flea, feeling the heat from the blast singe the bottom of your tunic. Your ears pounded, trying to recover from the sound the tank had made from the blast of its powerful guns. You landed amidst the bodies and the scattered armor, you heart beating firmly.

Focus, you told yourself again, feeling the pang inside of you, turning away from the lost clones. You couldn't let yourself grieve. You had to remain in formation.

"Y/N, the tanks!" you heard Yuma shout from your right side. Turning to see her running forward toward the hovering tank, ahead on your right, you spun quickly, running in between the confused battle droids, keeping your head low. You used your saber to block their useless shots, swiping through and destroying those you could as you ran. You kept your eyes on your target.

The tank loomed above you, and you watched as another blast shot out of its gun, hearing the sound of it making contact with the battalion behind you. You ran flat out, as fast as you could, dropping to your back and sliding underneath the hovering craft, your saber held out above your chest like a sword.

Slicing through the metal was easy—you used your momentum to carry your slide until the tank was no longer above you. You hopped up, blocking a blast from the command droid emerging from the top of the tank, and reflecting the bullet back toward its chest. The tank made a horrible grinding noise and fell to the earth. You turned and saw Yuma standing by her disabled tank. She nodded to you, smiling.

It was then that you felt it—through the energy of the battle, through the sounds of the clones engaging the droid army, through the blasts from the tanks, something bigger was thundering your way, faster than any instrument of war could travel.

"Yuma!" you shouted, turning to see her eyes light up in fear. You turned back to behold it: the largest creature you'd ever seen on land, thundering through the jungle, flattening trees and plants. A jungle rancor.

The creature roared with fury, using its large arms and claws to tear apart the tank closest to it. It then roared again, turning on the clones, who started to aim their blasters at its head.

"Don't engage it!" Yuma shouted into her comms. "Its armor is too thick." But it was no use—the jungle rancor ran forward, scattering clones and droids alike. The beast took no side, but it was out for blood.

"Full back!" Yuma shouted again. You saw, from a distance, the clones retreating into the jungle, their guns aloft, shooting at the droids and at the rancor. But you couldn't follow them—you stood, with Yuma, in the middle of the platoon of droids, all who seemed to be following orders to shoot right at your hearts. You blocked their attacks with your sabers, but they were closing in. You found yourself back to back with your former Master.

"What do we do?" you asked, your voice frantic, blocking the blasts from the droids as you saw the rancor raging through the platoon, grabbing droids and shoving them into its mouth.

"We need to get out of here," Yuma said, stating the obvious. She was looking around quickly, assessing your surroundings. You did the same.

"There!" you yelled, pointing to the nearest rocky outcrop behind the rancor. You could see the tiny dark line that indicated a cave high up in the rock.

"Right," Yuma said, looking around as she used her saber to block blasts left and right. "On my signal."

You nodded, but you had no need. You were communicating with your Master through the Force. This was a maneuver you'd done before, in different circ*mstances, though your situation had never been so dire as this.

"Now!" Yuma shouted, and you both leapt into the air, in formation, your sabers spinning around you as you flew in an arc, out of the circle of droids, slicing through them with your blades. You landed lightly, your Master beside you, and the two of you watched as the rancor turned toward you, swiping away droids left and right with its giant claws.

"Run!" Yuma yelled, but you didn't need telling twice. You turned and sprinted, holding your saber in a reverse hold behind your back, blocking blasts as you felt them come. As you climbed up into the jungle rock, you looked back, seeing the rancor turning on the tanks. They were attempting to fire at it, but the blasts were bouncing off its thick hide, going in all directions. You felt one of the blasts hit the ground beneath you, shaking the rock.

"In here," you said, turning to give Yuma a hand up into the cave you'd seen from a distance. Droids were not intelligent enough to come find you in here, and so, you knew, you'd be safe hiding for the time being. But not for long, you thought, your heart hammering in your chest.

"Farther back," Yuma instructed quietly, and as she climbed fully into the rock face, you both crawled, farther into the cave, into the darkness.

You were surprised at how far back the cave went. This was no ordinary jungle, you realized, feeling the dampness of the rock floor and the humidity of the air.

"This should be sufficient," Yuma whispered when you'd crawled far enough in that your forms were just barely visible. You turned back, your eyes struggling to adjust to the dim light, seeing Yuma kneeling and pulling out her chrono. The cave was not large enough for either of you to stand. You looked around, seeing that the tunnel kept leading inward, into the rock.

"What now?" you asked quietly, seeing Yuma signaling with a few taps.

"I've told Marlo to regroup with the others at the Guild," Yuma responded, looking back up at you. "We'll have to find our way there ourselves." Yuma gestured toward the dark tunnel, holding her saber high and trying to see forward.

"How do you know there's another way out?" you asked, holding your saber up in the same fashion. You couldn't see much from the light it cast. The green of your saber and Yuma's against the rock gave the cave an eerie feeling.

"I don't," Yuma responded. "Only one way to find out."

You continued crawling forward, feeling Yuma's troubled presence behind yours. Eventually, the tunnel in the rock grew larger, and it widened enough for you to stand. You brushed your tunic, pushing your sweaty hair away from your face. It was slightly cooler in here than it had been in the heat of the jungle, but it was still humid.

"You know," Yuma said casually, "you did very well out there. For your first battle, I mean."

"Thanks," you said gruffly, walking forward and holding your lightsaber high. You were conflicted. On the one hand, you couldn't help but feel a hint of the same annoyance that you had felt on the ship, when Anakin had been reluctant to leave you. Why did everyone seem so protective? Why did Yuma feel the need to praise you, now? It was a little condescending. On the other hand, you were glad that Yuma was with you. Her presence made this feel like just another mission—like old times. It was comforting, having her support.

"Even though I know you'll be leading your own battalion, soon," Yuma continued, and you could hear a smile in her voice, "I think we still make a good team." In Yuma's presence you felt a hint of nostalgia, a warm feeling. You sighed.

"We do," you said, turning and smiling at your former Master. She clasped your arm briefly, then gestured for you to continue forward.

The cave seemed to grow darker and darker as you delved deeper into the depths of the rock. The ground under your feet started to feel funny. The darkness swayed a bit, as if the rocks themselves were humming, vibrating. You felt as if the cave was starting to moan, to chant—except it wasn't the cave. You heard the humming continue, a buzzing, a bell chiming somewhere, the voices rising in a swell.

"Y/N? What is it?" you heard Yuma ask from behind you, her hand touching your shoulder.

"I...I don't..." you said, scrunching your eyes shut, stopping in your tracks. It was like the ground was telling you not to continue. Yuma pulled on your shoulder and spun you around, holding her saber high so that she could look at your face.

"Is it Dooku?" Yuma whispered, barely making a sound. Whatever she saw on your face, it was causing her to feel alarmed. Her presence was frightened. You blinked, trying to see what was really in front of you. Through your blurry vision, you saw Yuma pull out her chrono, signaling to someone.

"No..." you started, trying to feel your way through the murky weeds of the humming, feeling the clouds coming for you once again. It wasn't Dooku—of that you were sure. You would recognize his presence. But...you heard the sounds of singing, some old, low song, the dark voices all singing the same note. You felt the sounds of voices rising and falling, heard the buzzing of a fly landing in a field of grass. You heard the grass, the wind swaying through it. You heard them all, all of them alive, living. You felt it coming. You felt the darkness meeting the light.

Suddenly, the ground under you rumbled, as if the rock had been hit by another blast. The cave started to shake, the ground underneath you unstable. Slowly, the rock split, shifting, opening a chasm before you.

"It's going to cave in!" Yuma shouted, pushing you out of the way. You fell, hard, fighting through the fog to reach for Yuma, but it was too late—you felt her arm slip away from yours, felt her sliding away from you, down into the depths of the cave.

"Yuma! Master!" you yelled, frantically, but the humming was growing louder. The dark voices were swelling, their low notes chanting in the darkness, and you couldn't see. You couldn't feel. You reached out with your hands. "Master!" you yelled again, feeling the fear enter your presence, but it was no use. It was too dark. You felt the cave pulling you forward, swallowing you. Were you falling into the chasm? You couldn't know. The humming was all around you. The voices were getting louder.

Something grabbed onto your wrists, pulling them together and binding them. The humming wouldn't stop. You reached out with the Force, pushing the humming back, pushing it off you. It was then that you felt the presence—a familiar presence. You wrenched your eyes open.

"Hello, again," you heard in the woman's voice, and you stared into a pair of malevolent violet eyes.

********************

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Chapter 31: Chapter 31

Chapter Text

Chapter 31

"Anakin, be reasonable," Obi-Wan pled. The two Jedi Knights hurried alongside the outer perimeter of the Guild headquarters, where their battalions had, thus far, managed to hold the base.

"I'm going after them," Anakin promised, his brow furrowed as he turned to look at his former Master. Obi-Wan's face looked exasperated—the stress and exhaustion from the battle read in every line near his eyes, in the way his mustache moved to the side. Anakin knew Obi-Wan well enough to see the fear and worry behind this carefully cultivated façade.

"Anakin, you mustn't let your feelings cloud your decision-making," Obi-Wan implored, rounding the corner toward the recently constructed command center at the center of the Guild, where Rex and Cody waited to consult the Council via hologram. The Jedi back in Coruscant were waiting to hear about the progress on Felucia, but Anakin didn't care about the Council. He didn't care, at the moment, about the 501^st holding the Guild from separatist forces. He was beyond concern for the war. He only knew he needed to get to you.

"Yuma signaled for help, Obi-Wan!" Anakin fumed, his jaw clenched, his breath coming hot and tight out of his nostrils. "Do you really believe she would have signaled for anything less than—"

"No," Obi-Wan responded, slowing his stride as the two of them neared the rudimentary command center. "I don't believe she would have signaled needlessly. But—"

"But nothing. They need our help. Something's wrong, I know it, I...I can feel it." Anakin felt his chest tighten at these words, his worry and anger closing around his heart like a fist. Why couldn't Obi-Wan understand that you were in danger!?

"Our orders," Obi-Wan said with a tired, heavy sigh, "are to remain at the Guild. If we are unable to hold the front here—"

"I know our orders," Anakin spat, breathing hard. He turned his angry pout on his former Master, who looked back into Anakin's eyes with concern. Anakin shook his head, trying to clear his anger, trying to focus. He took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm going after them," Anakin said shortly, turning to head back in the direction they had come, back toward the perimeter of the Guild, toward the direction of Yuma's signal. "It is your choice whether to come or not."

Anakin turned to walk away, his angry stride starting to break into a jog as his thoughts turned to you. He knew he shouldn't have separated from you, he thought angrily. If anything at all happened to you...Anakin couldn't consider the possibility. His insides turned to steel, a hot, heavy, twisted metal, and he quickened his pace. You were his whole world, his reason for existing. He would not allow anything to happen to you.

Behind him, Anakin heard Obi-Wan heave another sigh. The sound of his Master's quick steps growing nearer reassured Anakin that Obi-Wan was, at last, seeing reason. The two Knights hurried away from their duty, toward the sound of the distress call they knew they must answer.

***

You strained, trying to pull at the restraints around your wrists, around your ankles, but the heavy metal bounds wouldn't budge. You were held in a restraining plastron that stood in the middle of a large, empty cavern. You searched the ceiling and looked into the sides of this voluminous cave, trying to discover a way out, but it was too dark for you to grasp your surroundings fully. The only shapes around you were the many stalagmites that rose from the stone floor. The cave itself seemed to be whispering to you, making noises that were not noises that could be made without a voice. The humming continued. You felt your head drooping, felt your consciousness pulling away from you. You gritted your teeth, fighting to remain in the present, fighting the battle with your brain fog and winning.

The woman with the violet eyes leaned up against one of the larger stalagmites, watching you with a malicious expression on her face. When you looked into her eyes, the whispering voices in your mind grew louder. Why were you having this reaction now, in the presence of this woman who, while an enemy, was certainly not a Sith? Why were you struggling to maintain a hold on your consciousness? The cave continued to whisper, as if deriding your questions, as if mocking you for your ignorance. You struggled against your restraints some more.

"Let me go!" you yelled again, infusing into your voice all the Force command you could muster. The woman sat watching you, a wicked smile gracing her lips, but she did not respond. You tried again. "You will remove these restraints!" you shouted, but the woman simply laughed.

"This is entertaining," the woman drawled, her voice jogging your memory in a sickening way, your stomach turning. You felt outward toward her in the Force, feeling her anger, her hatred, her...insecurity? The instability within this woman raged within her like a fire, burning up every thought. You felt her presence like you were holding something that burned your fingers. You scrunched your eyes closed, trying to force her impression out.

"I'm aware of your abilities, you know," the woman said, and you opened your eyes, glaring at her where she sat so casually. "I can see what you're trying to do. But your intuition won't help you now, I'm afraid." She pushed herself up off the ground where she sat. "Knowledge of what's to come won't stop it from happening."

"What do you want with me?" you spat, glaring at this woman and feeling the hatred from her presence lap at your insides like a flame. Or, maybe, you considered, this was your own anger. You took a breath to calm yourself. You mustn't lose focus.

"Retribution," the woman said casually, holding up her hand and looking down at her nails, as if she were bored with this conversation. "Revenge, I can admit. And pain." She looked back up at you and took a few steps closer, smiling with her teeth in a way that made your insides squirm. "I want you to feel pain. And you will." She co*cked her head, turning to her left. You felt their presences coming in—the people entering the cave felt fear, a sickening, all-encompassing fear, a fear mixed with ire. You turned in your restraints to regard three large men carrying a heavy-looking crate. You gasped, recognizing the one with the bald head and the lightning tattoo. The man looked up at you as the henchmen approached, giving you a menacing glare.

"Yes, I am not the only one who wants revenge," the woman continued as the men set the crate down in front of where you were restrained. "She will suffer, my friend," the woman said, signing her speech with her hands to the man with the tattoo, who grunted in response. "But the pain must wait."

The men walked away, and you tried to turn yourself around in your restraints to see where they exited, but it was no use. You were bound too tightly. The woman stepped forward and pressed the panel on the side of the crate. As it opened, you felt the sounds of the whispering intensify, those low notes continuing in the back of your mind, a long, melancholic chant. You felt your eyes roll back into your head, and you fought, trying hard to regain your eyesight.

"Convenient," you heard the woman say, and you pushed your eyes forward, regarding her with blurry vision. She'd stepped even closer to you, leaning in, her purple irises alight with some foul emotion you felt swelling around her. "That this," she continued, gesturing with her hands toward the cavern around you, "was once a dwelling place for a Sith Lord and his apprentice." You felt her thoughts turn to her henchmen, and their fear as they regarded this place. You started to understand. "I knew, of course, that you would be difficult to subdue," the woman continued, "without a little help. And since my uncle refuses, for some reason, to touch you, I knew I needed to get a little...inventive."

At these words, your thoughts started to spin. Her uncle? Who was this woman? And how did she have such knowledge of the Sith, of the ways of the Force, if she wasn't a Jedi? She couldn't be even five years older than you were. You felt her presence turn sour, her anger singing you from within. You forced your eyes open, so that you could look at her.

"Yes, I can feel your confusion," the woman mused, her brow furrowing. "Though we are not all gifted in the Force as you are, these rudimentary changes in energy are apparent. To me, anyway." The woman laughed without humor.

"Who are you?" you asked, knowing that you would be able to decipher the answer in her thoughts. The woman smiled an evil smile as she lifted her head out of the crate. She raised her eyebrows. You couldn't see what was in her hands.

"Ah, yes, I suppose your abilities would come in handy when seeking information," she said, but you only half heard her. You were concentrating on the images and impressions flashing through her thoughts—Count Dooku was there, and you delved deeper, feeling into the woman, feeling her memories. You saw her as a child, petulant, moving things with her mind. You saw Dooku, yelling at some other man, felt the child's emotions. She was crying. You felt other things too, things you couldn’t decipher.

"Dooku...is your..." you began, trying to piece it all together.

"My uncle," the woman seethed, standing up and looking you head on. You saw in her hands a large needle. You swallowed, bringing yourself back to the moment. You felt the woman's anger at Dooku's name. "Yes," she continued, walking to your other side, holding the needle in front of her. "My uncle became, as you might know, very disenchanted with your Order. He refused," she continued, stopping to study you, "to allow anyone in his family to join." You felt other images flash by in her mind—images of Dooku hitting her across the face, pushing her to the ground, shouting at her.

"He hid you," you stated, looking deeper into her mind, trying to glean any information that might help you escape this mess.

"Yes," she answered, her eyes showing just a hint of the pain you felt raging within her. "He made sure no one would ever find me. He made sure I learned every sick, twisted ability he could teach me. But I was never enough for him." She paused, reading your reaction as you felt her memories, her pain from her training.

"He shouldn't have done that to you," you started quickly, taking advantage of her silence. "Had you been found by the Order, you would have been trained differently. But it isn't too late—"

"It is," the woman hissed, "altogether too late. For me," she grinned, her anger twisting her face into that same, wicked smile, "and for you."

"What does any of this have to do with me?" You asked, confused.

"Ah," the woman laughed. "Well, my uncle wasn't too happy with me after our little meeting on Serenno. You remember?" she asked, and the memory of it came back to you, though it felt like a lifetime ago. You and Anakin, searching Serenno for answers about the separatist attacks on the senators. You thought of Anakin with a pang, remembering the fight you'd had after your first encounter with this woman, wondering where he was now in the battle raging outside the cave, whether he was okay.

"Yes, you and pretty boy caused quite a stir between me and my dear uncle," the woman grimaced. You thought you could sense the ghost of a scar across her face, one that might have been made by a lightsaber. "And, of course, the Count was furious that I had encountered you, furious that I had betrayed details about his involvement to the ones so special to—" she cut off at this, and you sensed, for the first time, fear in her presence. What had she been about to say? Special to who?

"Regardless," she continued, "I didn't forget that you bested me then, and I planned to make it up to my uncle. Earn his favor, or, at the very least, escape his...wrath." You furrowed your brow, confused. "I wanted to kill you, you see," she said, "to make up for my mistake. But my uncle told me you were not to be harmed, not to be dealt with." This piece of information stopped your thoughts in their tracks. Not to be harmed? As instructed by Dooku? How could that be?

"I listened," the woman added, continuing her story. "I did not attempt harm you, though I admit I resented you even then. I didn't understand why you were known to my uncle, why you and your precious lover boy were not to be touched. I started to wonder what my uncle was hiding, when he would slip away. I wanted to know who he was conversing with, at night, why he shuddered with fear at random moments." The woman paced to your other side, the needle looming large in her hands. "But I was careful. I began to eavesdrop, collecting what information I could, while still performing those menial tasks for my uncle—sending bounty hunters to scare the senators, trying to stir up dissent within the Republic. But then—" she cut off, her face twisting, and you felt that she might as well be talking to herself, her presence so deep in her memories. "Then I was sent to attack a senator on Levangé." You swallowed, a lump forming in your throat. "A job I thought would be simple, a task I knew I could perform to get back into my uncle's confidence." The woman's face screwed up in anger, and she stepped forward again, looking into your eyes.

"You ruined that for me too, you see," she said, her eyes level with yours. "You got me captured, got me interrogated, thrown into a Republic cell. My uncle was furious." You looked down, seeing that she was squeezing the needle, her hands straining around its large barrel. "Sure, he...liberated me," she said, laughing a harsh laugh. "But he punished me. He was terrified of his secrets getting out, you know." The woman took a breath, as if she was losing control on her calm pretense. "He banished me, once he was done with his punishments. I was turned out like a common rat. And all for him to declare himself, not even a week later, to the Republic. All for the war to start, for his schemes to be made public." You wanted to keep this woman talking, keep her focused on her story so you might find a way out of this, find your way back to Master Yuma, wherever she was in this mess of tunnels. You focused your Force energy on your binding, trying with all your might to unlock the mechanism, but it was no use. Your hands and legs remained bound.

"So you see, all of my woes can be traced back to you," the woman was saying, her eyes on you, her face in a slightly maniacal smile. "I lost everything. All because of you. You ruined a lot of things for me," she said as she leaned forward, looking into your face. "You took away my family, took my position, took my uncle's fascination...and, without the purpose he had given me, I started to seek a new purpose. Revenge."

"You...you don't have to do this," you whispered, looking around frantically. "I didn't take those things from you. You were born into the worst of circ*mstances, but you can still—"

"Still what?" the woman asked derisively. "Still lean into the 'light side of the Force'? You will soon learn," the woman snarled, "that there is no such thing as the dark and the light. There is no difference between the Sith and the Jedi, Y/N. Both seek power, mastery of the Force. The only difference is the wording they use when they speak of their methods."

"How do you know my name?" you asked breathlessly, looking back to the needle in the woman's hands.

"I know all about you, Y/N. I eavesdropped plenty on my uncle, and his conversations with his...Master," the woman fumed, and you felt again the pinpricks of fear in her presence. "I know that you and your precious Anakin Skywalker are to be 'preserved' for him," she continued. "I know that, because of this, I cannot harm you. I cannot kill you. They would find out," she smiled, holding the needle, looking like she wasn't all there in her mind. "They would come after me, and kill me. I don't know why they bother with you, why they discuss you and your friend..." the woman stepped up in front of you once again, sizing you up, your form much shorter in stature than hers. "So I had to be clever, when planning my attack. I still have contacts in the separatist movement, you know. It wasn't difficult to visit a few of their bases, trying to form a plan. And then I stumbled on this wonderful place," she explained, raising her arms and gesturing around the cave. "Knowing, as I know, that you struggle with your so-called 'dark side'...I thought a Sith dwelling would be the perfect place to hold you. But how to get you here!" The woman laughed shrilly. "It has not been easy. I knew I needed to push the separatists as far toward your Guild as possible, knew that if the situation were dire enough, the Republic would send you, their prized student. And I knew I needed to do it without attracting my uncle's attention." The woman breathed deeply, as if she were basking in her success. "It took longer than I expected. But finally, you arrived. And now I will find my revenge. I can still hurt you." She reached out with her hand, touching the side of your temple. You bristled at her touch.

"My uncle was terrified that you would find out anything about me," the woman continued, switching the needle from her right hand to her left, like she was playing with it. "He hid me even from his own Master, you know. And perhaps that is why he sent me away—I was becoming too much of a liability." She laughed again, her eyes darkening. "But I don't care to follow his rules anymore. You will know my name. And you will remember who it is that causes your pain." You looked at the needle again, and back into her eyes, your presence finally giving over to fear.

"Vyra," she said plainly, reaching out and touching your hair, as if you were old friends. "My name is Vyra. And you don't have to worry about this," Vyra added, gesturing to the needle in her hand. "It isn't for you."

It was then that you felt the disturbance—the presences moving toward you, the rift in the Force, as if something were being set in motion, as if the song were swelling toward forte, the symphony reaching its final act. The whispering voices in your head joined the cacophony, growing louder, growing excited. Your head ached from the effort it took to stay present, to keep your consciousness in the here and now.

"Bring her in, boys," Vyra said in a manic, evil tone, her smile taking over her whole face. You turned to regard the same three henchmen carrying something, walking toward you. You strained to see the limp form in their arms.

"No!" you shouted, your eyes filling with tears. You pulled at your restraints, pushed out with the Force, your fear and panic swelling along with the voices in your head.

"Yes," Vyra contradicted as the men lay the unconscious form of Master Yuma beneath your feet. "I would have preferred lover boy, of course," she added casually, like you were discussing the weather. "That was the original plan. But he is well protected, and when your Master," she continued, the word rolling off her tongue contemptuously, "basically fell into my lap? Well, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. She was so easy to collect, unconscious as she was. She fell from quite a height."

"No!" you shouted again, as loudly as you could, your voice grating against your throat. "Let her go!"

"Your Force command is useless, here," Vyra said slyly, reaching to prop Master Yuma's unconscious body in a seated position against the nearest stalagmite. "But it's entertaining to see you struggling so much. Please, continue."

"What are you going to do to her?!" you pled, continuing to struggle against your restraints. "Let her go, now!"

"I would have thought it was quite obvious, by this point," Vyra responded, rolling her violet eyes. "Even your intuition doesn't allow for basic deduction skills, I suppose." Vyra pressed the needle against Master Yuma's neck, almost gently, injecting her swiftly with some kind of clear liquid. When she was finished, she stood up, admiring her handiwork.

"It should only take a few minutes," Vyra explained, her face the face of pure evil. "This is a fun concoction that my uncle tends to use on his...enemies. It will make her see things," Vyra clarified, taking a step away from Master Yuma and back toward you. "See unpleasant things. It's an excellent form of...emotional torture. And I thought, since I am not able to harm you, physically," Vyra added, stepping until she was inches away from your face once again. "How else to torture an empath?"

Your heart beat madly in your chest as you watched Master Yuma start to twitch. How were you going to get out of here? You needed to think quickly. You saw, underneath Vyra's dark cloak, the form of a lightsaber—Yuma's lightsaber. If you could distract her, you might be able to wrest the lightsaber from her through the Force. But how to use it, with your hands bound as they were, above your head?

"No..." Yuma whimpered, and you looked back at her, horrified, watching her form start to shake. "No, no, no..." Yuma was shaking her head back and forth. You felt her presence descend into terror, felt your own following hers. Her eyes shot open.

"NO!!!" Yuma shouted, looking around wildly, her eyes unfocused.

"Master!" you yelled for her.

"No, Y/N, no!! No!! Get away from her!! Stop it, stop hurting her..." Master Yuma yelled wildly, her eyes unseeing, her body jolting back and forth, reacting to the poison's effect on her mind.

"Master, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." you started to sob, your own body shaking. You could feel every dip in your Master's presence, saw with her the vague impression of yourself...of yourself being threatened, of yourself being hurt.

"Isn't it excellent?" Vyra asked, her eyes alight with excitement. "I did not know, of course, that the images her mind would conjure to torture itself would involve you...how fun!" Vyra clapped her hands together.

"Stop!! No!! NO!!" Yuma was shouting, and in her mind you felt the impression of dead bodies all around her, piling up. You saw through her presence your own form, lying on the ground, unmoving, your eyes open, your mouth gaping. You saw Anakin's form lying next to yours, and Obi-Wan's next to his. You saw with Yuma a pile of dead Jedi.

"No, no, Y/N, no, it's all my fault..." Yuma cried, her head shaking back and forth, her hands pushing into her eyes.

"No, Master, no..." you sobbed, trying to think clearly through the voices that were laughing, jeering in your head. "No, it's not your fault, Master, it isn't real, it isn't real, Yuma, come back to me!"

"It's all my fault," Yuma said again, "I tried, I tried..." From where she was slumped against the rock, you saw that her unfocused eyes had tears streaming from them.

"No, Master, no, it's not real, I'm going to get us out of this, I'm going to help you, Master!" you cried, looking around wildly, screaming in the Force, asking for something, anything that would help you get out of here, anything to help you fight. You strained against the bounds on your hands and legs, pressing with all your Force effort, willing them to open. They wouldn't.

Vyra stood next to you, leaning in, looking into your eyes, enjoying every moment of your agony. As you turned to look at her, every part of your insides seemed to erupt. You spat at her, your body still raging in the Force, trying to get out of your bondage.

"You see what I mean," Vyra said gleefully, "about the dark and the light? It's all a myth, Y/N. You'll know soon enough." You felt Vyra's thoughts turn to the kill.

"Um, Vyra..." you heard one of the men say, approaching quickly.

"What?" snapped Vyra, turning to the man reluctantly.

"Code blue. They're close."

"No!" Vyra screamed in rage, her hands balling into fists. "Urrghh!" She swiped at the air with her long limbs, hitting something imaginary.

You felt the voices swelling around you, the hum echoing against the cave walls, blocking out every sound. You pushed against them with all your might.

"No," whimpered Yuma, her pain tinging the air around you.

"Ruining the fun..." you heard Vyra say, as if to herself, and you looked at her, seeing that her face was calculating. "Only one thing to do, now," Vyra said, her face illuminating as she took Yuma's saber from beneath her own cloak and lit it.

It happened as if in slow motion. You felt your body twist, screaming at your restraints, pressing yourself forward toward your Master. Vyra kept her eyes on you as she leapt toward Yuma, pressing, in one, quick motion, the saber's green blade directly into Yuma's chest.

"NO!!!!" you screamed, your sight turning to black, your feeling in the Force so strong that you thought you might shatter your own blood vessels, shatter the cave around you. You felt the stalagmites begin to crack.

"Until we meet again," you heard Vyra say maliciously, and you wrenched your sight back to reality, trying to see through your blurry eyes as Vyra pocketed Yuma's saber and leapt into the air, disappearing upward into the darkness.

"NO!!" you screamed again, your head turning backward and forward, looking around for your attacker, straining against your restraints. Your rage continued to shake the ground, continued to cause the stalagmites to crack. But there was no one left to attack—Vyra and the henchmen were nowhere to be seen. You breathing was coming in large gasps, your mind unable to comprehend your surroundings, your entire self shying away from what had just occurred. It couldn't be. Yuma couldn't be...

"Master," you whimpered, looking through the darkness at the form slumped over against the stalagmite. "Master....master..." you continued, as if compulsively, begging the universe to let her respond, begging her through the Force to wake up. "Master! Master!! MASTER!" you shouted, reaching out through the Force, feeling forward toward Yuma's insensate form. But you couldn't feel your Master there, you realized. You couldn't feel anything.

You kept your heavy lids open, beholding the unmoving form of the person who was your family, your mother, your father, your mentor, your safe harbor, your source of comfort and knowledge and love. The person who had taught you every important value you held dear. As you looked at her, you saw, to your astonishment, her form vanish, her clothes falling empty to the ground.

It was then that you descended into madness.

***************************

very very super sorry about this one. new chapter soon <3 if you care about this story, know that this hurt me to write lol

Like my story? Leave a comment, come say hello onTumblr, and, if you're feeling loaded, buy me a $3coffee:) Any support means a lot!

Chapter 32: Chapter 32

Chapter Text

Chapter 32

You didn't know where you were. You didn't know what you were—you couldn't feel any sense of self, anything embodied. You floated between sensations. You were the rustling of a creek, the sound of a whisper, a hand held up to the cover a mouth; you were a sleeping beast, some alien shape, its breathing loud and heavy; you were a seed floating down to its new resting place; you were the darkest parts of a deep ocean, a sea floor mouth sucking in; you were the creatures traveling through deep space, somewhere far away. Except they weren't far away—you weren't anywhere. You were everywhere at once.

You couldn't remember yourself, what shape you were supposed to take. You were the pleasant breeze in a warm place, and suddenly you remembered what it felt like to breathe. You were a breath. You felt the darkness hiding inside the minds of those too far gone, felt it in the shadows beneath a dead tree, and shuddered in fear. You remembered fear. You felt the dark side and the light in a continuous tug of war, each fighting to overthrow their own delicate balance. You were the Force.

It was then that you heard a voice. Emotion filled you, and you realized that somewhere, somehow, you were able to be filled. You remembered that you had once had a body. You heard the voice again, and you felt yourself shrinking. You knew that voice. You wanted to get to that voice.

"Y/N!" the voice was agonized, and you pulled against the boundaries of your presence, trying to bring yourself closer to the voice.

"Y/N!" the voice continued, pleading. "Y/N, please wake up, please look at me. Can you hear me, Y/N?" You felt the voice's sadness and you remembered sadness.

"Obi-Wan, what's wrong with her? Look at her eyes! What—"

"She's breathing steadily," a different voice responded, and you found you remembered this voice too. "And she doesn't seem to have any major wounds." You felt this other voice's pain, so understated, so controlled compared to the pain of the voice you remembered now to be the most important voice in the universe. You struggled within yourself. Who were you? Where were you? Were you dead? You remembered death.

"Y/N," that most important voice asked, gently, in supplication. "Y/N, can you hear me? It's going to be okay, we're here, we've got you." You found you could feel this voice's body, feel the sweat dripping from the forehead, feel the energy as it changed forms. The body expended energy in a swift motion, and you felt the hum of a long blade of light. You felt, somewhere, shackles being broken, felt their entropy as they fell to the ground.

"Anakin..." the second voice said, in a tone that sounded appalled. You felt this voice's energy, too, felt the inertia as the leg moved and kicked something on the ground, something hard. "It looks like someone's been tortured."

You felt yourself withdraw at the word, felt a heaviness descend over you that you associated with the memory of having a body. You were no longer floating. You tried hard to feel yourself, your arms, your lips, because you remembered now that you had arms, had a voice, too.

"Y/N," the beautiful voice sobbed, "Y/N, please wake up, please come back to me."

"What's that she's whispering?" the second voice asked, and you felt in the Force the voice's dread, anxiety, terror. These emotions descended on you, and you began to remember yourself.

"It sounds like, "Master"..." the wonderful voice responded, anguish ripping through the Force in his presence. You wanted to call out to him, to locate him in this fog. You tried to use your voice, but you couldn't find it.

"Yuma..." the second voice spoke, barely more than a whisper. The voice sounded farther away from you now. You felt the energy expenditure it took this presence to reach down, grab something, something light. Something empty.

"What?" Anakin asked, and as his name broke through your fog, you struggled against the heavy feeling, trying to find him.

"I can feel it...Yuma...she's...gone," Obi-Wan's voice choked. The memory came back to you swiftly, excruciatingly, and as it did, you descended further into the deep darkness, losing your feeling, losing all sensation and thought.

You were in some deep abyss, somewhere, if somewhere existed. You were both floating in it, pressed in by it, and somehow, you were the abyss, the pressure. You felt the sense of beginnings and endings, continuously existing side by side.

"Y/N," you heard the voice say again, and you remembered again the importance of find him. You felt leaden, but you worked to push through your memories, push through to find your body.

It seemed like some time had passed. The energetic impressions had changed—there were lots of voices, a hum of anxious presences. This jogged your memory. You felt great disturbances in the Force, heard the sound of booms and blasts. The disturbances caused you to fear. Where was he? Was he okay?

Ani you thought firmly. Ani. This thought repeated, and it encouraged you. Suddenly, you felt your arms, your legs, felt your head as someone was cradling it. You felt hands touch your face lightly.

"Y/N?! I'm here little flea, I'm here." The voice said hurriedly, amidst the sound of more booms. You felt the rush of air as a pair of lips met your ear. "I love you," Anakin's voice breathed, in barely a whisper, right next to your temple. "Come back to me."

***

Anakin was dazed. His head stormed, his heart beating heavily in his chest. He couldn't believe it—it didn't seem possible.

Yuma. She's gone, Obi-Wan had said. The words repeated over and over again in Anakin's mind as he hurried toward the command center. A blast from the separatist advance caused Anakin to stumble, but he kept his balance, hurrying after Obi-Wan and carrying you in his arms.

There was no time to get you, even, to a medical base. No time to try to follow your absent attacker, or attackers, wherever they might be by now. Anakin had argued with Obi-Wan, trying to convince his former Master to let him pursue them, but in the end, Obi-Wan's reasoning had won out. Anakin wasn't about to leave you—not in this condition. The front at the Guild headquarters was crumbling, the battalions of clones unable to hold the line against new separatist platoons that had recently landed, heavily armed. The headquarters shook again under Anakin's feet.

Anakin hastened after Obi-Wan, looking down at you, trying to gauge if he could see any improvement. You looked much the same—your eyes were white, clouded over, their normal color obscured by a foggy, milky film. You moved your irises back and forth, but what you were seeing, Anakin didn't know. You occasionally whispered things—Master, over and over again, when he had found you, and now, nonsense, nothing in any tongue Anakin had ever heard. You wouldn't respond to him, didn't seem to know that he was there. The sight of you, imprisoned within yourself, like this, made Anakin's entire body go cold.

The Guild shook again in response to another blast as Anakin and Obi-Wan rushed into the crumbling command center.

"We need to get her off-world," Anakin barked at Rex, his Captain immediately springing into action at his side. "Once we've transported her to a medical base, we can—"

"It's too late for that," Cody interrupted, joining Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Rex as the headquarters shook on their foundations. "The front is hopeless. We need to order an immediate evacuation."

"What is our status?" Obi-Wan asked quickly, looking, with Cody, at the chrono on the clone's armor that showed the number of troops subsumed by the battle.

"If we lose the Guild headquarters," Rex began, evidencing his unwillingness to give up on a fight, like his General. "We lose the Perlemian route. We can't back down from this fight." Anakin would have smiled at Rex's battle-readiness, had the situation been different. Instead he scowled further, gripping your immobile figure more tightly.

"What happened?" Marlo asked, looking shocked at your motionless body in Anakin's arms. The building shook again, rubble falling from the ceiling.

"It will take some time to discover that," Obi-Wan responded quickly, looking back at you with worry before facing Marlo head on. "I agree with Cody. An immediate evacuation of our remaining troops is top priority. The front is theirs."

"Yuma?" Marlo asked, breaking protocol by calling his General by her first name. Anakin swallowed, hard, his head feeling heavy.

"Lost," Obi-Wan uttered softly, turning his face away from the group to hide his reaction.

Anakin gripped you more firmly still, the heavy feeling in his head turning hot, turning to anger, to rage. Whoever had done this would pay, Anakin thought, this anger settling deep within him. Anakin would make sure of it. He would discover who had harmed you. Their days were numbered.

Anakin allowed the anger to wash through him, feeling the command center shake as Cody, Rex, and Marlo ordered their troops to fall back to the rendezvous point, while Obi-Wan contacted the command ship, ordering the landers to begin the evacuation. Everyone took on the tone and the demeanor of soldiers, but Anakin felt the grief beneath their focus. The daze he had felt at the news of Yuma's death had turned sour, turned to militant concentration, turned his thoughts toward the kill, toward revenge.

He looked down at you, feeling, in the view of your face, his anger fade to a small flicker, a flame that would become necessary later. Your eyes were still clouded, your mouth slightly parted. He touched your face tenderly, cradling your head with his other hand. You would be okay, he told himself. He would make sure you were okay. He would not leave your side.

"Ani," you sighed softly. Anakin jumped slightly, looking into your eyes, trying to see whether or not you might be beginning to rouse.

"Y/N?!" he asked excitedly, cradling your face closer to his. "I'm here, little flea. I'm here," he told you fervently. Anakin knew that whatever was happening to you was some great mystery of the Force, knew that he could not understand the way your mind encountered that great energy barrier. Still, there were some things of which he was sure, and that you and him were, and would always be, connected in the Force, he knew in his whole being. His love for you was more powerful than any curse, than any poison.

Anakin glanced up at his former Master and the other clones that still littered the command center. No one was looking his way, except for Rex, who, when meeting Anakin's eye, very plainly and intentionally turned away. Anakin pulled your form closer so that he could whisper in your ear.

"I love you," he told you fervently, trying to infuse a power into his words, breathing the living Force into his lungs. He looked at your face, cradled in his hands. "Come back to me."

Chapter 33: Chapter 33

Chapter Text

Chapter 33

It was heavy. There was no other way to explain it. Your grief was a heavy pillow, suffocating you as you lay in your bed. You felt like the sheets might swallow whole you under the weight. The feel of Anakin's arms around you faded in the face of the soft, quiet, heavy feeling pressing on you. It was like being underwater. It was like trying to fight wind stronger than a hurricane. It pushed you down, and you felt like you had no strength to fight against it.

You'd awoken after Felucia in the Temple's medical chamber, Anakin at your side. You had no memory of anything that had happened after Yuma had been killed, and you didn't understand why Anakin looked so full of relief, why he had tears in his eyes at the sight of you. Obi-Wan had simply explained that you had lost consciousness, similar to the way you had when encountering Dooku's presence. Something in Anakin's face told you that it wasn't quite that simple.

Still, you couldn't find it in yourself to care, much, about what had happened after your Master had been taken from you. You couldn't find it in yourself to care about anything at all, other than the arms that remained around you, other than having Anakin by your side. You found that there were times when even that desire started to fade; when you felt the heaviness pressing in and lost any feeling at all.

"Y/N," Anakin whispered, shaking your arm a little, reaching over to run his fingers gently through your thick hair, pushing it away from your face. Every so often he would say something like this, something soft and gentle, like he were trying to make sure you could still hear him.

"I'm here," you replied, not looking at him, but reaching out and gripping his sleeve. Anakin brushed away the tears that fell softly and steadily out of your eyes and onto the sheets of the big bed in your Jedi apartment, situated in the Knight's Billet in the Temple. This is where you had remained for days, barely moving, barely sleeping or eating, struggling to fight the weight in order to keep breathing.

After you had left the medical chambers, you had recounted to the Council how Vyra had lured you into that cave, how she had manipulated the severity of the battle on Felucia and used the Sith dwelling to call to you in order to trap you and 'torture' you. You had told them what she had said of her reason for doing so, her grudge that she had held since you had been assigned your mission on Serenno. You had explained what she had recounted about Dooku and his mysterious "Master"; you'd noticed that Yoda and Windu had shared a look at that information. You couldn't bring yourself to care, at the moment, what that meant. You had struggled for breath, standing in the center of that circle of Jedi atop the tall tower, as you had recounted the last moments of Yuma's life: how she had been in the throes of a horrible vision, caused by the poison that made her live through her worst fears. You could barely get the words out when you described Vyra killing your Master, and taking her lightsaber. Obi-Wan had stood up to walk you out, his hand on your back the whole way back to your apartment, his face grim. You hadn't emerged since.

"Y/N," Anakin said again, stroking your face, your arm. "You need to eat something." You shook your head. The thought of moving at all, let alone eating, drinking, sounded too hard. You felt the heaviness pressing in on you.

"I love you," Anakin said again, and the agony in his presence was like a spark, a stabbing pain that brought you out of the heavy feeling, if only for a moment. Your eyes filled, again, with tears.

"I know," you whispered, looking into his eyes.

"I'll be here with you," Anakin said, reaching forward to kiss your eyelids, brushing the tears away with the gentle press of his lips. "I won't let them make me leave."

"You can't stay forever, Ani," you sighed, curling into him, wishing your words weren't true.

"I won't—"

Anakin cut off his words, feeling the same disturbance in the Force that made your senses heighten. Someone was coming.

A soft knock sounded on the door of the apartment. You and Anakin both looked at each other, sensing the presence that stood outside.

"Maybe he'll leave," you breathed into Anakin's ear, not moving. Anakin remained still, listening. You waited, holding your breath.

"Y/N," you heard, Obi-Wan's soft voice calling through the door as he knocked again. If he came into the apartment, it would only take a few steps past the kitchen for him to see through the open bedroom door, where he would find you and Anakin in bed together—

"What do we do?" you whispered, panicked, your eyes widening. Numb with grief you may be; but if you and Anakin were caught, it could risk your position in the Order. Anakin's eyes darted around, and landed on the tiny wardrobe built into the wall. Jedi Knights were granted little storage space, as they were not to keep possessions of their own.

"Anakin, he'll sense you!" you whispered frantically, but Anakin was already up and running in his boxers to the wardrobe. He sucked in his gut and used the force to close the wardrobe's doors as you heard Obi-Wan's voice sound again from outside the door.

"Y/N, I'm coming in," Obi-Wan said, his voice gentle and suppliant. You pulled yourself up in your bed, fighting against the heaviness in your limbs as you used the Force to summon your robe, hastily throwing it on over your nightgown as the door to your apartment opened and Obi-Wan stepped inside.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Obi-Wan said as he walked forward to stand in the open door of your bedroom. You knew you probably looked like Moraband; you hadn't visited the refresher in days, and your hair was a tangled mess on your head. You felt Obi-Wan's thoughts linger on the dark circles under your eyes.

"That's all right, Master," you replied, your voice hoarse. Obi-Wan walked forward and pulled the chair near the window around so that it was facing you. You gulped as he turned, looking back to you as if to ask, may I ? You nodded, gesturing that he should sit. Obi-Wan had never been inside your apartment before—his presence startled you enough that you felt the heavy numbness backing away from you.

"I came to bring you this," Obi-Wan said, leaning forward in the chair and pulling something from the pocket of his robes. As he reached out to hand it to you, you sighed in amazement.

"How...?" you asked, leaning forward to take your lightsaber from him and gripping it. You felt each familiar divot of the hilt like you had found an old friend lost to time; you felt the ghosts of tears prickle behind your eyes, and you willed them away.

"I recovered it for you, on Felucia," Obi-Wan responded quietly. "When you were found, in that cave." His tone was careful, quiet, and solemn. "I wanted to return it to you before, but...it seemed a difficult enough moment." You thought back to facing the Council, to the whirlwind of emotions you'd faced upon waking up here, in the Temple, without your Master, for the first time in your life.

"Thank you," you managed to get out, looking back up at him and keeping your tears at bay. He simply nodded. You looked around, feeling awkward, working to keep your gaze anywhere but on the wardrobe behind Obi-Wan's back.

"I also..." Obi-Wan started, and you met his gaze, his face lit by the rays of sun streaming in through the partially closed blinds. "I am also here because I wanted to make a proposition to you."

You squinted, gripping your robe around yourself, inclining your head to indicate that he should continue.

"You are, of course, under no obligation to do so..." Obi-Wan started, rubbing his hands over his mustache and through his beard. "But...I know how important it was to Yuma that you work on your ability, to block out the presences of the Sith." At these words, your heart dropped. The weight came back in full force, pushing you down. It was an effort to keep yourself seated, to not lay back into the sheets and give in to the heaviness that pressed into you. You swallowed, nodding. "I would like to continue your training, in that regard," Obi-Wan said, watching you intently, his voice soft. "Not to pick up where Yuma left off, necessarily. But to work to make sure you are fully in control of your abilities...so that, when the time comes that you must protect yourself, you are as prepared as you can be. I would like to do everything in my power to help you."

You struggled to breathe evenly, working the air in and out of your lungs. You knew that Obi-Wan meant well—that he was trying to show care for you, and for Yuma, by offering to help. And you knew you needed the help, knew now that your susceptibility to the dark side of the Force was a liability. So you couldn't help but hear the unspoken truth behind Obi-Wan's words—that it was your fault, what had happened on Felucia. That if you had made more progress in your lessons with Yuma, she would still...

Be here, you finished in your head, your eyes welling up against your will. You didn't need Obi-Wan to tell you. You knew the truth. You knew who was responsible for Yuma's death.

"Y/N," Obi-Wan started, leaning forward like he wanted to do something to comfort you, but you shook your head, letting the tears fall.

"I'll do it," you said, pushing against the heaviness. "I'll train with you." It was all you could manage. Obi-Wan paused, as if debating, then leaned back in his chair, putting his hand down.

"Good," Obi-Wan replied, his voice contemplative. "I'd like to start right away, given that the war has made it so my time at the Temple is limited. Tomorrow?" You nodded, looking away from him, your face flushed at your embarrassment. You'd never cried in front of Obi-Wan, and you didn't like it—you didn't want to feel weak around him, the Jedi who was always so very much in control. Until recently, you'd thought of yourself and Obi-Wan as similar souls, similar warriors who kept their emotions in check. You now realized that you were useless in more ways than one, that people like Obi-Wan would always surpass you. You wanted to go back to sleep.

"The last thing..." Obi-Wan continued, his voice unnervingly gentle. "I wanted to tell you," he said, leaning forward in his chair, waiting until you looked up to meet his gaze, "that you aren't alone. Though I know that no one and nothing could ever replace what Yuma was to you—to all of us—I want you to know that you still have family, here. That you still have a mentor that cares for you deeply." You blinked, the brazen affection in this statement disarming you.

"And that if you ever need to discuss anything," Obi-Wan continued, "anything, even things that you wouldn't bring to others in the Order, you can come to me. Whenever you need." You could have sworn Obi-Wan glanced infinitesimally toward the wardrobe, but it was so fast, you must have been imagining it.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan," you said, your voice small, your gratitude sincere. You felt so much affection and adoration for the Jedi Master sitting in front of you. You wished only that his faith in you wasn't so displaced. You felt your body shaking, the effort of pushing off the weight beginning to wear on you.

"That's all," Obi-Wan said, smiling at you as he stood, walking toward the door. "I'll expect you in the meditation chambers tomorrow." You nodded, feeling drained. "Don't—don't be unkind to yourself," Obi-Wan added, pausing in the bedroom doorway to turn back to you. "All of this is hard enough as it is." You nodded again, wondering how he could sense what you were thinking so accurately. Obi-Wan turned away, striding for the door to the apartment.

You listened as the front door slid shut, waiting, your heart beating. He didn't return. You sank back into your pillows, pulling the robe around you in a cocoon as you heard the wardrobe door slide open.

Anakin didn't say anything as he lay down next to you, pulling your whole body and cradling it in his arms, burying his face in your hair.

"Training might be a good thing," Anakin whispered, in a tone like he was trying to sound optimistic. You pulled yourself closer to him, your body quivering as if you were cold. You felt the tears at the edge of your eyes again, felt the quivers turn into quiet sobs.

"I'm here," Anakin said, kissing your head and stroking your back. "I'm here." What else could he say? Everything certainly wasn't okay. You tried in vain to calm the sobs, but they continued. Whenever you fought the numbness enough to stave it off, this was what happened. It was, in some ways, worse to feel.

"I should have been there," Anakin said vengefully, his voice shaky, "I shouldn't have left you." You inhaled, quickly, another sob breaking out of you.

"Are you saying—are you saying that you could have prevented it?" You pulled back in Anakin's arms, looking him in the face, your eyes wide. "That it's my fault, that she's...that she's...?" you felt your body continue to shake. Unfamiliar anger pulsed through you, the bitter anger that was only self-directed. You needed somewhere to put it. Nothing made sense, anymore. Your brain turned to fire.

"No, of course—no, Y/N, of course that's not—" Anakin started, alarmed, gripping your arms as you pulled farther away from him.

"You don’t have to say that, because I already know!" you replied, shouting now, as you pulled yourself out of the bed, standing before him. Anakin was on his feet immediately, his arms outstretched for you, but you backed away. "I know what happened is my fault entirely!! If I hadn’t—choked—if I had just listened—"

"Y/N, no, no, that's not it, no, listen to me, that's not..."

"You heard Obi-Wan," you continued, sobbing again. "And you said it yourself. Yuma was right. I was a liability, and because of me, my Master is dead."

"Y/N!" Anakin was shouting now, reaching out for you again, but you pushed him away, backing into the corner of your bedroom and sinking to the floor.

"Just leave," you choked, closing your eyes, feeling the world around you start to sway. "Just go." The world was starting to fade.

"Y/N," Anakin said gently, moving toward you slowly, his arms outstretched like he was approaching a loose rancor. "Y/N, it isn't your fault. None of it was your fault. I didn't think that for one second, and neither does Obi-Wan."

"Just leave," you repeated, softly, your sobs coming freely now. You didn't deserve to be comforted. You wanted to descend into oblivion. You were starting to lose the feeling in your legs, in your arms. You looked around, but saw that your vision was blurring over.

"I can't do that," Anakin murmured softly, and you felt his hands prying at your arms. You hadn't realized you'd been gripping your knees so tightly. You started to breathe quickly. "Look at me, Y/N," Anakin whispered, and you looked around, frantic now, your eyes clouded, unable to see. "Come back to me," Anakin breathed into your ear, and you blinked, his face swimming into view.

"I can't ever leave you," Anakin said, pulling you into his arms right there on the floor. You wanted to reply. You wanted to tell him that you couldn't ever leave him, either. You wanted to promise that the two of you would be together forever. But the world had changed, when Yuma had been taken from you. Or, you had changed. You now knew that everyone, no matter how much you loved them, would someday vanish. You didn't understand it—how one day, someone could be so very real, and the next, they could be gone. And Anakin would vanish, someday, too. You leaned into him, feeling how very real and alive he felt, with his arms around you. You felt the heaviness descend as you wept.

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Chapter 34: Chapter 34

Chapter Text

Chapter 34

You felt the crisp, cool, morning air of the Temple hit your face like a bucket of water, as if the wind wanted to keep you awake and upright. You walked slowly through the hallways, focusing on your breathing, on the cold air, the hard marble beneath your feet, on anything but the whispered conversations you heard around you. Not heard—felt. You knew that the few Jedi you passed in the halls were not responsible for the accumulation of the voices in your head. This was just how it was for you, now—you couldn't help but pick up too much, like you were receiver that was too sensitive, picking up too many transmission signals.

It was easier to ignore the feel of all of the whispering voices than it was to ignore the pain you felt in your entire being. Walking through the Temple halls, even, felt like walking through thick, piling sand, your limbs aching. But you knew you mustn't focus on the pain—the pain of your grief, still so heavy, or the pain that twinged in your mind as you thought about the fight you'd had with Anakin last night—you mustn't let it consume you. You had work to do.

You felt horribly guilty for how you had shouted at Anakin the previous evening, how you had pushed him away, how you had told him to get out. Not that he had listened; he'd held you all through the night, and even after you'd calmed enough to dose, you still felt the guilt of it in your veins. So, when you'd awoken to the coruscanti light streaming in through the window slats, and you'd seen Anakin fast asleep, his peaceful, beautiful face finally at ease, you knew it wouldn't be right to wake him. You'd taken one last look at his face, admiring the shape of his jaw, his eyebrows slightly downturned in sleep, his eyelashes that shown blonde in the morning light, before you'd slipped out from under the covers and donned your robe, holstering your lightsaber before sneaking out of your apartment.

There would be time to apologize later. Now, you knew, you needed to clear your mind. You kept walking. As you passed the archives, something that you had been thinking about since you had returned from Felucia flashed through your head. Later, you told yourself, turning to look ahead and stilling yourself for what was to come.

You stopped outside the meditation chambers. You knew you didn't need to knock—knew that he would sense your presence. And, as you heaved another sigh, working to keep your body upright, fighting the weight of that ever-present grief, you heard his quiet voice.

"Enter," Obi-Wan said, and you pushed the button on the panel on the wall, walking slowly into the darkened meditation room. Everything inside was a shade of blue and grey, even the pale light slipping in through the mostly-covered windows. The room contained only a few soft ottomans, and gave the impression of stillness, of calm. Even so, you had to hold your breath as you bowed to Obi-Wan and took your place on the ottoman across from his. Everything in this Temple reminded you of Yuma. Everything reminded you that she was no longer here.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me," Obi-Wan said gently, his eyes grazing over your form, your face. You realized you still had yet to visit the refresher, your hair still looking like a nest something might crawl out of. You couldn't find it in yourself to care.

"Thank you for...offering, to help me train," you responded, bowing your head again slightly, forcing yourself to look him in the eye.

"I will do what I can," Obi-Wan replied, folding his legs on the ottoman, assuming a straight-backed meditative position. You followed suit, and found that your body felt comforted in this position, like muscle memory, as if its familiarity made the weight a little bit easier to bear.

"It is my understanding that you were unsuccessful," Obi-Wan began, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "when trying to extricate yourself from Yuma's thoughts and memories in the Force."

"Yes," you said, swallowing hard, trying to ignore the lump that had formed in your throat as you thought back to those training sessions, some that had taken place in this very same room. It felt like a different lifetime, compared to the one you were living now.

"And you were unable, as well, to stop reading other's presences, when you tried." You felt Obi-Wan's thoughts drift lazily toward Anakin, and you checked to make sure your own Force presence was folded neatly and minutely into yourself. The last thing you needed from this training was to reveal too much.

"Yes," you said again, watching Obi-Wan with interest.

"What did it feel like? When you tried to disentangle yourself from Yuma's presence?" Obi-Wan sounded genuinely curious. You swallowed again, pushing your head and back up straight, blinking away the pang that her name sent through you.

"It felt like..." you thought back to those training sessions. "It felt like there were thousands of...tendrils, connecting my presence to Yuma's presence, in the Force. And all of the tendrils were tangled together, knotted and looped...it took so much effort to disconnect one, or two, but before I could make progress, her thoughts or emotions would shift, and new tendrils would take their place. I could never get too many disconnected at once."

"An interesting metaphor..." Obi-Wan mused, his hand gracing over his mustache, his eyes unfocused as he considered your words. "My thought is that we are going about this the wrong way." He looked up, making eye contact with you once again.

"I'm listening."

"I've observed your Force empathy myself..." Obi-Wan said, looking at you as if he could see through you, right to your very soul. "I've found that your own emotions form a strong connection to those you read in others."

You thought back to all the times you'd mistaken others emotions for your own...with Anakin, the first day you'd even met him, or with Henry, when you'd seen his memories and assumed they were yours. You nodded.

"Sometimes...sometimes they even become indiscernible," you confirmed. "My own emotions, and those I read in others." Obi-Wan nodded as well.

"Logically it follows that extricating your emotions from the emotions of others would be very difficult," Obi-Wan said. You thought back over your relationship with Anakin—how at first you'd been afraid your feelings of affection, longing, of love weren't yours at all. Over time, though, your own feelings had grown such that their strength couldn't be denied. They had asserted themselves over you, over both of your lives. You shuddered at the thought, at how difficult it felt, even now, to not be by his side, not be in his arms. How those emotions threatened to swallow you whole.

"If the two are inseparable," Obi-Wan continued, snapping you back to attention, "instead of trying to separate your emotions from the emotions of another, I'm wondering if we can cut both off at the source."

"You mean..." you pondered, thinking this through, "not feel anything?"

"Not exactly, no," Obi-Wan explained, his voice thoughtful. "You are gifted at meditation, yes?" You nodded, wanting to see where he was going with this. "Instead of trying not to feel anything, you might think to separate yourself from your own emotions, when in particularly dangerous or high-stakes situations."

"You're speaking of impermanence," you murmured softly. Obi-Wan nodded. It was an old Jedi principle, one you had learned from a very young age—that the root of all suffering was impermanence. That to fear the impermanence led to anger, and then to hate, and then to suffering. A Jedi must accept the impermanence of all things. Especially emotion, you thought to yourself.

"I think you might have more success if you were to try to separate yourself—your being, your very soul—from those momentary feelings. The emotions you feel, and those that others feel, entangled and entwined as they are." Obi-Wan watched you, waiting for your response.

"So, it isn't about trying not to feel..." you said, thinking deeply. "But rather, allowing my sense of self to detach from my feelings, when the occasion calls for it."

"Yes." Obi-Wan affirmed. "It isn't about escaping your own emotions...but rather, forming a stronghold against them, and the ones you might read in others." Obi-Wan paused for a moment while you thought this over. "The Sith are controlled by their emotion." You looked up, and for a moment, instead of Obi-Wan's blue iris, you saw the purple one that had haunted you in your dreams. "They draw strength from it, yes," Obi-Wan continued, "but they also let it consume them. It seems to me that when you intuit Sith presences, that emotion consumes you too."

You thought back to when Count Dooku had taken you prisoner in your own mind. It had felt like being led down a dark path, one that narrowed, narrowed, until...until you'd been trapped. You didn't want to be rendered useless ever again. You didn’t want anyone else to come into harm's way because you were unable to keep your own mind for yourself. As your resolve hardened, you sat up straight, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze.

"What must I do?"

It was difficult work. Obi-Wan led you through a series of visualization exercises, and then meditations. You waded so deeply into the weeds of your own mind that you felt, for a moment, afraid you might get lost in it once again. But Obi-Wan was there, his voice guiding you, allowing you to continue mapping those deepest parts of yourself. You soon found that you were not one whole, but a composite mix of things; you were not solely a Jedi, nor were you solely the self that Yuma had taught, nor the woman that Anakin loved. You were many different things, different forms, ever-shifting and changing along with your consciousness.

By the end of the lesson, you'd achieved a moment—only a moment—in which you had looked at Obi-Wan and felt nothing emanating from his presence at all. It snapped away as you lost your focus, and you'd been certain that it was a mistake, but Obi-Wan had assured you that he did not have the gift of hiding his Force presence, and that if you had not been intuiting it, you had made great progress. You could admit that the flow of conversation in the back of your mind, the ever-present murmuring, had quieted to only a trickle. This was a great improvement from the storm of voices you had grown accustomed to. After only one day's effort, you and Obi-Wan had achieved more than you and your Master had been able to accomplish in six months.

"Thank you," you said, breathless, sweat dripping down your brow from effort. For the first time since Felucia, you felt a bit looser, like you didn't have to try quite as hard to stand up straight.

"I appreciate your gratitude," Obi-Wan said kindly, "but you know it isn't necessary. I want to do anything I can to help you." You nodded your thanks to him, all the same. Obi-Wan's face became thoughtful. "I've never encountered anything like you, in the Force," he added, considering you.

You paused, taken aback. Obi-Wan, one of the most talented Jedi in the Order, who'd had a Padawan that—

"But...Anakin..." you mumbled, confused.

"I've never encountered anything like either of you," Obi-Wan said, chuckling and rubbing his beard. "You astound even the wisest of us." You laughed too, and felt yourself surprised to hear the sound.

"I know it doesn’t help," Obi-Wan remarked softly, "But I…have been in your position before. I watched my own Master be killed." You went quiet, your eyes fully on Obi-Wan, his head bowed, his hair hanging over his face, his eyes glazed with the memory. "And I was there, and I could do nothing to stop it. The mark that it leaves…it gets easier, with time. Easier to bear the weight of it."

You had never heard Obi-Wan speak of his Master before. Qui-Gon’s passing had happened when you were so young—it had scared you, at the time, with all the rumors surrounding how it had happened, but you hadn't thought, at that young age, of the effect it must have had on his Padawan.

"It does help," you told him quietly. The two of you sat for a moment in comfortable silence.

"How do you feel?" Obi-Wan asked, looking you over with careful concern. You considered his question honestly, allowing your body to express itself to you.

"I feel...hungry," you breathed, surprised at yourself. Obi-Wan smiled widely, and you grinned back at him, feeling, for the first time in a while, like there was solid ground beneath you.

***

Anakin stalked through the halls of the Temple. Jedi who were in his path moved swiftly to get out of his way; a maintenance droid squealed as the toe of Anakin's boot just missed it, but he wasn't paying attention. He looked down for a moment, but could barely see the tendons in his hands as he clenched his fingers into fists. He barely noticed the way the other Jedi were looking at him, his furrowed brow, his tall stature. He had other things on his mind.

He had awoken in your bed to find it empty. Fear and panic had gripped his heart as he tore apart the sheets, looking through the apartment, calling for you. It was only then that he remembered your training with Obi-Wan, your promise from the previous day. It had calmed him, but only a little. He had dressed quickly, sneaking out of your Jedi apartment with ease. He knew he had to find you.

Anakin's heart raced thinking about how you had been these previous days, how immobile you seemed, how you had been refusing to eat or drink, how you hadn't been able to get out of that bed. It terrified him whenever your eyes started to glaze over; when you didn't seem to fully see the room you were in. He was worried you might slip back into that Force haze at any moment, that space where you had seemed all but lost to him forever. He wouldn't let that happen.

The meditation room was empty; Anakin paused in the doorway only for a moment, before wheeling around and continuing down to the lower level. Where could you have gone? Surely not back to the medical chambers, unless—unless something had happened to you, during your training? Unless your mind had gone back into that cloudedness—

Surely there was no way the council had already sent you into command, was there? Anakin himself had been granted a small reprieve after the events of Felucia. He knew the council had appointed you general of the 415^th batallion, Yuma's former position. He knew you had accepted command—what else could you have done? But could the council have sent you back into combat so quickly? Panic gripped Anakin's heart as he considered what it might mean if you returned to battle in your current state. He paused just outside the Temple gardens, half-ready to turn around and head back up toward the medical bay, to the council chambers, to demand to know where you were, when—

He felt a tug within him in the Force. It was a familiar presence; it felt like comfort, and reddish brown hair, the sleeve of a tunic...

Anakin found him on the other side of the gardens, in the corner, sitting with a cup of tea.

"Where is she?" Anakin demanded, looking around quickly. Obi-Wan seemed relaxed, so, at the very least, nothing horrible could have happened to you.

"Good morning, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his voice sounding tired.

"Where is she?" Anakin asked again, bouncing back onto the heels of his boots for emphasis, feeling unable to keep still, even in the presence of his seated Master.

"I believe she went to get something to eat," Obi-Wan replied, looking warily up at Anakin.

"To eat?" Anakin asked, pausing for a moment, debating turning around on the spot and heading for the mess hall. But if you had gone to get something to eat, then—

"Training went well, then?" Anakin asked, lowering his voice, perching on the bench next to the one on which Obi-Wan lounged, in the corner of the Temple garden.

"I would say so," Obi-Wan said in his infuriatingly calm voice. Obi-Wan took another sip of his tea, looking out at the garden as if deep in thought.

"What does that mean?" Anakin asked, feeling impatient.

"I'm not sure," Obi-Wan replied, his voice still infuriatingly calm.

"Don't be cryptic," Anakin accused, leaning back on his bench and crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. "Do you think you'll be able to help her, or not?"

"I am optimistic," Obi-Wan said, finally turning in Anakin's direction to look him over. "You should be patient with her, Anakin. This was a serious loss for her."

"I know that," Anakin responded, his heart pounding, his anger jumping up a pitch. "I am being patient." Did Obi-Wan think he, Anakin, didn't know what you needed? How could Obi-Wan not see that your well-being was the most important thing in the world? Of course, Obi-Wan couldn't know about your relationship with Anakin...but didn't Obi-Wan realize the importance of keeping you alive, regardless? Didn't Obi-Wan realize how much danger you were in? Anakin took in the posture of his former Master, how calm Obi-Wan seemed, how superior, and felt his frustration grow. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath.

"She's grieving—" Obi-Wan tried, but Anakin cut him off.

"Felucia, Obi-Wan?!" Anakin rasped, his volume increasing. "That wasn't grief!" Anakin recalled again the way you had looked with your body limp, your eyes clouded over, milky white, unable to hear him, trapped in your own suffering.

"I'm looking into it," Obi-Wan responded quietly, lowering his eyes.

"Well, look harder," Anakin said, his breath coming out in a huff. He leaned forward again, looking to Obi-Wan beseechingly. "If she takes command of the 415^th, and she doesn't have this under control—"

"If you don't trust her by now," Obi-Wan began, but Anakin cut him off again.

"Of course I trust her! But you know as well as I do—as well as Yuma did—that her gifts are a liability!"

"She is not a liability to the Order—"

"I don't give a kriffing gundark about the Order! I'm talking about her—her life. You need to help her, Obi-Wan. We need to...to find a way to make sure..." Anakin's breathing was heavy. He found himself looking down at his hands, his shoulders moving up and down quickly with his breath. He blinked, his fear overwhelming him.

"We will help her," Obi-Wan said, putting a bracing hand on Anakin's shoulder. "And she will help herself."

***

You sat, staring into the archive memory, sifting through the holobooks to find what you were looking for. The Temple library was quiet, the atmosphere one of focused attention. Something about it calmed you, but you also found it a bit unnerving, that every bit of galactic knowledge that existed could be found in these very archives.

Your stomach was full for the first time since Felucia; you were sitting upright, able to fight the weight of the grief that had been threatening for days to consume you. You felt exhausted, and sad, but it was a start. And after attending to your needs in the mess hall, you'd come straight here, to the Temple library. Even in the darkest parts of your grief—even when you'd been totally trapped under that weight—you'd known what you needed to do next. You'd been forming your plan. All you had needed was the strength to begin. And, thanks to your training with Obi-Wan, today you'd found it.

You used the controls to pull forth one of the holobooks, and as the holoimages came up, you sat down to focus. You felt yourself getting lost in the text, trying to remember everything. Your focus was so intense that you didn't feel his presence coming until he was right behind you.

"Why are you researching Galactic Sign Language?" Anakin asked, his hand gently stroking your shoulder. Such a small, subtle movement was likely to go unnoticed by those other Jedi in the archives, absorbed as they were in their own research. The sound of his voice made your body electrify—all of the longing, the guilt, and the desire passed through you at once. You shivered.

"It's a long story," you told him, turning around in your chair to face him full on.

"I'm sorry," you breathed, right as Anakin had said the same thing, leaning in toward you, his eyes wide. You felt the corners of your mouth turn up at the sides, and Anakin's face fell open, his surprise taking away his supplication.

"Me first," you said, getting up out of the chair and shutting off the hologram. As you faced Anakin, you felt through his emotions in the Force, sifting through as if the man in front of you were a different type of archive memory—one that was tangled, passionate, complex, brilliant, and beautiful. His emotions mirrored your own; you felt his guilt, his longing, his love for you. The first and most prominent emotion surrounding his presence was worry, and this made you feel even more guilty.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," you told him quietly, aware of the others milling about the great library. "I'm sorry I took my anger out on you. It's only anger at myself—" Anakin looked as if he were going to cut you off, but you silenced him, holding up your hand. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with you at all. Not when you are so kind," you voice grew quieter, "and so loyal, and so patient with me." Your faces were closer together now; if anyone were to look over, they might wonder why you were having such an intense, whispered conversation. "I'm sorry I fell apart," you continued, feeling the hint of the tears pinpricking the corners of your eyes. You pushed through, closing your eyes to keep the tears from falling. "You shouldn't have to worry about me. I won't let it happen again. I promise I'll be here for you. With you."

"I'm the one who should be sorry," Anakin said eagerly, acting as if he were about to take your hands in his, and then looking around, thinking better of it. Instead, he surreptitiously reached up and brushed under your eye, stroking away the ghost of the tear that didn't fall. "I shouldn't have said anything about...I shouldn't have assumed I know anything about what it felt like for you, on Felucia."

You nodded, but really, he didn't need to apologize. You'd put your own words into his mouth; it hadn't been a fight between you and Anakin, but one between the warring sides of yourself. And you knew now that you needed to face those warring sides head on, and deal with them before they could manage to hurt anyone else.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," you said, pulling half of your mouth up in a small smile. Anakin's eyes were stars, on fire, the blue looking like it was burning, like it would melt out into the air.

"Obi-Wan said training went well," Anakin whispered, hopefully, looking around you for a moment before grazing your hand with his.

"I think it did," you whispered back, looking up into his eyes. You wanted nothing more than to take his face in your hands, but you held back. All this secrecy, you thought, might just drive you mad.

"And you'll tell me about your research..." he continued, glancing back at the archive computer behind you.

"Another time," you assured him, looking around again, making sure no one was close enough to overhear while you leaned in closer toward him. "You know that I love you," you breathed. Anakin's face broke into a joyful smile, his body leaning in closer to yours.

"You know," he said quietly so only you could hear him, "that I love you more than all of the books in this archive." He glanced back at the other Jedi, huddled in their research. "And more than all of the stars in the galaxy, and more than all of the galaxies in the universe." Anakin met your gaze, his sorrow gone, his eyes alight and mischievous. You felt the intention in his Force presence, and it made your insides turn over, your breath becoming short.

"And I love you more than whatever lies beyond that," you whispered, smiling up at him, your heart full. Anakin surreptitiously stroked his hand over the top of yours once again.

"Do you have much more research to do?" Anakin asked, his face forming a familiar, co*cky smile.

"It can wait," you murmured, smiling and co*cking your head as you strode past him toward the doors, gesturing for him to follow.

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